When I was growing up, we had a swimming pool in our backyard. One of my favorite things to do was to hold my breath as long as I could as I stayed still, suspended just under the surface. This became an obsession for me, and it got to the point where I could hold my breath for just over three minutes before my lungs started burning. For those three minutes, things were quiet. The world was at rest. I wasn’t naive enough to think that the problems above the surface wouldn’t be waiting for me, but for that brief time, I could gather my thoughts in complete peace. I haven’t swam in years, but to this day I still instinctively hold my breath to regroup when things get overwhelming (I can only do about 2 minutes these days).