When and where I share my story impacts the story I tell. When I feel safe and secure the details come pouring out with analogies and metaphors and so much literary clarity. When I am angry the story comes falling out, scattered and unclear except for the emotion behind it. When I am sad, only the tears can be seen whereas my breath cannot be caught long enough to have words behind them. I am only as clear as my feelings are. Slowing down to tell my story so as my emotions don’t overtake, overwhelm me in the telling. I must breathe in slowly and breathe out slower. If anger is arising I must feel it fully, hear my heartbeat in my ears, and release it while breathing. If sadness is cloaking me, I must feel it but breathe before the cloak becomes my skin. The ability to tell my story comes from my ability to breathe, carefully, intentionally, fully. 

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