We spent three hours in Hobart shopping for clothes for the kids, which Sylwester didn’t enjoy much. By the time we were done, we were all quite hungry. We knew a really good café with delicious food on the way home, but we needed to hurry, or it would close. So, we rushed to the car park in the rain. Once we were in the car, we were all exhausted and hungry, and the tension began to build.

As Sylwester started driving, he got frustrated with the seatbelt and angrily swore. His outburst triggered a lot of anger in me, and I just let it out, shouting and blaming him. My mind started forming an angry story, and I completely bought into it! Sylwester shouted back, blaming me, it was all pretty intense.

Now, this kind of scenario between us happens very, very rarely. I can’t even remember the last time we fell out so badly. Even our eldest son started crying and shouting (which is extremely rare!), and Aliya immediately joined him. Once Sylwester shouted back, my mind stopped racing, and… I found myself in a state of peace… I wondered why this was happening to us. Then I shifted my perspective to, Oh, this situation happened FOR us, and that really settled in my heart. I became curious.

I turned to Marcel, and I was in awe. He had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply. I had never seen him breathe so deeply, slowly, and with such concentration. He was the one who went within, he didn’t blame anyone or hold onto anger or sadness. He stayed with the sensations in his body that the moment brought to him. When he opened his eyes, he was so calm, and his peacefulness spread to the rest of us immediately.

About ten minutes later, I asked Wiktor to change the song, and Marcel asked me,

“Are you sad? You sounded sad when you just said that.”

“Did I? Maybe I am a little. It was a pretty big moment for all of us… I saw you breathing,” I added, looking into his eyes.

He smiled.

“Where did you breathe into your body?”

He pointed to his solar plexus calmly.