My Anywhere But Here Blog

🌿 Coming Up for Air

There are days when life feels less like living

and more like treading water.

Not drowning exactly—

just kicking hard enough to stay afloat

while wondering when someone decided life required this much effort.

Somewhere between responsibilities, expectations, obligations,

and the endless stream of little things tugging at us from every direction,

we forget something rather important:

Human beings were never designed to run endlessly.

Even the strongest among us—

the happiest among us—

the people who seem the most “put together” on the outside—

eventually reach a moment when the soul quietly whispers:

I need a minute.

Not tomorrow.

Not next week.

Not after everything settles down.

Now.

Because sometimes what we need most

is not another plan,

or another conversation,

or another thing to fix.

Sometimes we simply need to come up for air.

⸻

There is no shame in admitting that life can feel like a lot.

Sometimes it is the big things weighing on us.

Sometimes it is the small things piling up all at once.

And sometimes it is not one thing in particular at all—

just the quiet accumulation of living through seasons

that ask more of us than we feel prepared to give.

There are burdens we carry that no one sees.

Worries we keep tucked behind polite smiles.

Battles fought quietly within ourselves

while the world assumes we are doing just fine.

How often do we smile and reassure the world around us:

“I’m fine.”

When inwardly we are anything but?

How often do we say, “It’s under control,”

when in truth it is not?

How often do we pretend to have it together

because admitting otherwise feels too vulnerable?

And over time,

even invisible heaviness can become exhausting.

Even the strongest hearts need space to breathe.

Even the steadiest souls need stillness.

Even the kindest, most capable, most resilient people

eventually need to step back from the noise

and simply exist for a while.

⸻

Perhaps that is why some of life’s holiest moments

are found in the simplest pauses.

A quiet cup of coffee before the house wakes.

A walk with no destination.

Silent prayers lifted skyward toward the heavens.

Rain against the window while the world outside keeps moving.

An evening spent doing nothing at all

and realizing perhaps that was exactly what was needed.

These moments may seem small—

almost insignificant in the grand scheme of life—

but I think they save us more than we realize.

Because they remind us

that we are allowed to stop.

Allowed to breathe.

Allowed to be still without apology.

⸻

So if today feels heavy…

if life feels loud…

if your thoughts feel crowded

and your spirit feels weary—

You do not have to go it alone.

There is a song I love called Weary Traveler by Jordan St. Cyr

that reminds us that even when life feels long,

when the road seems endless,

and when the heart feels tired from all it has carried—

to carry on.

And if it feels like this road may stretch farther than you can see,

let this be your reminder:

It is okay to pause.

It is okay to step away for a moment.

It is okay to admit

that even you,

strong and capable as you may be,

sometimes need to come up for air.

Because rest is not weakness.

It is wisdom.

And sometimes the wisest thing a person can do

is simply breathe deeply,

lift their head above the waves,

reach for God’s hand in the storm,

and remember:

You were never meant to carry everything all at once.

_______________________________________________

Susan Beth Thomas

In My Anywhere But Here, even the weary are allowed a place to breathe.