Being alone — physically alone atop a mountain — reminds me of how seldom one is alone in the sort of urbanized life we live nowadays. As I sat, there was a certain peace which I was able to capture for a moment. This physical aloneness is by no means the same as loneliness — not even close kin to it; for I was not alone. On occasions when I am able to get to a mountain top, the realization of the nature of the "mountain-top experience" returns anew.
God is dynamically present in every breath and heartbeat. In each breath we draw, the Spirit gives life. Learning to reclaim the deep, nourishing breaths of infancy is part of basic training not only in health and movement classes, but in prayer and meditation practices around the world. The deep, full breathing required to sing may well have similar importance in praying well: nothing reminds us more literally than inbreathing and outbreathing that we continually receive life and must continually release what we have received in order to receive again.