A few thoughts on breathing

I don't know how many of you out there are 'Preppers', 'survivalists', or even breathing.  I do, however, know that when it comes to the last category, I'm definitely a firm convert.

I like breathing.

That slow in and out exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide that allows one the opportunity to not only stop and smell the roses, but also to start up again and run away when the bee that ALSO had stopped to smell the roses gets pissed off at being sucked up your nasal passages.

And I firmly maintain that in order to remain a breather, it is more and more important to be now, or at least start, being one of the former.
I follow a number of sites that try to separate me from my hard earned money  make it their goal to teach me how to be a "survivor".
One of the more informative and enlightening is SHTFPlan by a guy who only goes by Selco. This guy lived through TEOTWAWKI (Google it, or not.) during the Balkan wars.
And in one of his latest interviews on another site I stop by, he compares the former country of Yugoslavia (where it DID happen) with the good ol' red, white, and blue, US of A (where of course it could NEVER happen) and notes a number of surprising comparisons.
Most of it pretty stupid shit, like vilifying the past, and changing it to suit a particular group's own views, or to make one part of the past accommodate the world view THEY think should be the "official" version. Or the impossibility of random attacks on neighbors simply for condoning opposite religious, political, sexual, scientific, racial, or (insert choice of complex individual ideology here). Free speech tolerance,  anyone?
Or any number of possible social, political, natural, or man-made calamities.

He makes some surprising observations on all this.
But this is all really not that big of a deal for me. I'm not a prepper. I'm just inherently used to being prepared. Raised that way by parents who actually BUILT a fallout shelter pursuant to the Cuban missile crisis. And I'm not a survivalist. If the purpose of my existence is only to survive, I've missed the point somewhere. My parents did NOT build the shelter to survive. They built the damn thing to protect their children and allow more generations to go on when they were no longer around.
NO one has ever built a bomb shelter in order to live past being dead.
They just want to stick around long enough to either help kick-start the next batch of breeders, or out of a sense of hubris that they somehow have knowledge to pass on that no one in the history of like, FOREVER, has ever thought of.

Which just caused a random thought. Which of course is also going to make this ramble longer, 'cause you KNOW I'm going to have to examine this new thought (Sorry).
Do you realize that we, the baby boomer generation, are the first to have a lower standard of living than our parents? Do you also realize that the term baby boomer comes from all the kids conceived during the threat of imminent extinction through nuclear war that our parents perceived? Again, they weren't being 'survivors'; they were being animals following an animal's instinct to breed in order continue the species. And doing a fine job of it, too!

So, back to whatever it is I was saying....let's see... Not a prepper.... Not a survivor, because I doubt I will survive dead, even though I've managed to give the Reaper a pretty good run so far...

So, that leaves breather.

I actually like this moniker out of all the others out there. I'm a BREATHER! With all the rights and benefits to be accorded thereto.
I have joy in breathing that prepping and surviving can never provide.

I can breathe in the scent of a new born puppy. That one unmistakable smell that tells all small boys there is faithful companionship waiting to explore rolling hills and muddy banks together, regardless if he's ever actually experienced these joys before.

The exhalation of my wife I breathe in as she leans in for a kiss.

The smell of rain. Of spring blooms and plowed fields.

The smell of wood smoke. Providing both the warmth of a comforting hearth in winter, or combined with the scent of a meal prepared with love from hands often grown feeble from age, but never from caresses.

Okay, sure. I'm fairly prepared for life's little surprises. And strive to become more so daily.

I work at being able to survive in the face of adversities affecting my well-being. A little too late for breeding purposes, though if needed for such activity, I would do my damnedest to step up to the task. But perhaps SOMEONE can benefit from my wisdom that has not come to me from age so much as from being a bit of a fuck up and (hopefully) learning from my mistakes.

I'm just a busted up old breather, taking in one breath after having enjoyed all the benefits of the last, and then living in breathless anticipation of the next as that one too is expelled.

Prep if you must, survive as you will, but take my advice: keep breathing.