The late afternoon sun slants across the wooden deck. A faint shadow pools in every crease of the checked shirt, and beyond the white railing a field of pale green grass sways. One hand rests on the chest, the other on the belly.
The hand on the chest barely moves, and only the hand on the belly rises and falls slowly. The shoulders are away from the ears and the chin is tilted up slightly to catch the sun. The eyes are unfocused, not fixed on any one point.
What usually arrives on an afternoon like this is haste. When the sense that the work is not finished runs out ahead of the body, the breath shortens and the shoulders stiffen first.
Place a palm on the belly, breathe in for a count of four and out for a count of six. After about three rounds, the range the palm travels may have changed a little. There is no need to try to do it well.
The same gesture can be drawn out in the hallway on the way back to the office after lunch. Slow the steps, and instead of a hand on the belly simply track whether the breath reaches down that far as you walk, and you come to notice where the eyes have settled, on the flower bed outside the window or on the door frame at the end of the hall. Whether the focus is driven into a single point, or spread wide like an afternoon loosened by sunlight. Walking while checking how the eyes are placed becomes one method as well.
The sunlight has crossed all the way to the end of the deck, and the hands are still resting on the chest and the belly.
