In Canada people are breathing. I notice this the moment I step off the plane, home from San Francisco for a weekend visit. There is spaciousness here, where people draw breath full down to the belly and then, in a natural and relaxed manner, release the diaphragm and gently exhale. In America it is different.
In America people breathe shallowly, fearfully, like they are hiding under the stairs. Under the veneer of extroverted Americanness is a layer of subcutaneous anxiety. A readiness to duck and cover at any moment. The throat is constricted, muscles primed for fight or flight.
I step out of the tube into YVR and draw cool air deep, deep into my lungs. It has been been four months since I breathed so fully. Fully here, fully home.
Photo borrowed from: https://www.flickr.com/photos/pajamas-for-llamas/20022253772/in/photostream/