You're walking down a crowded sidewalk at dusk.
Above and ahead,
The lights of the buildings become brighter.
And even though it's a pleasant enough night,
No matter where you find yourself on the sidewalk,
You feel as if you're moving upstream,
Going against the grain.
Up ahead is a large entranceway,
The opening to a vast,
Towering building.
You know this building.
You slip inside,
Moving quickly through the revolving doors.
Yes,
You know this place.
You know it well enough to find the stairway off the main entranceway,
Slightly away from the crowds rushing forth to and from the elevators.
You move up the first flight of stairs until you reach the mezzanine level that overlooks the mass of people below.
You take a deep breath in,
And then breathe out.
As you watch those below,
You do it again,
Taking a deep breath in,
And then breathing out.
Allowing your attention to become centered on the present and on your breath.
Up another level of stairs,
You find the balcony from your old days here.
You crack open the door and step out.
A story or so below is the crowded sidewalk,
But from this vantage point you're able to see well up the crowded street and well down in the other direction.
The sounds of the conversation and traffic echo up to you as you take another deep breath in,
And breathe out.
After another gaze about you,
You begin to make your way back down the stairs.
First to the mezzanine level overlooking the entranceway,
And then you slip back into the crowd and are carried like a feather in a stream back through the revolving doors.
Outside it's as hectic and as loud as before,
But now you move through the crowd feeling more at peace.
Somehow things have become more effortless as you move gracefully through it all.
Remembering once again to breathe in,
Breathe out.
Always remembering breathing in,
Breathing out.
