Four breaths. Six words.

I came across a thin little paperback book by a Vietnamese Buddhist named Thich Nhat Hanh (pronounced "Tik · N'yat · Hawn") that just caught my attention.

Michael Jonesmjones@stuttgartdailyleader.com

Some time in the early 90s, while scouring the aisles of my local public library, I came across a thin little paperback book by a Vietnamese Buddhist named Thich Nhat Hanh (pronounced "Tik · N'yat · Hawn") that just caught my attention. With only a simple flower as the central image of its otherwise plain white cover, "Peace is Every Step" captivated me the moment I flipped the book open to see what it was all about.

The first thing I remember turning to was a little section talking about the idea of conscious breathing, where you take a moment to have what your body is doing mesh completely with what you are consciously aware of. I'd never thought twice about breathing, so it was an idea that I flippantly thought of as unnecessary.

The book, though, insisted otherwise.

"Our breathing is the link between our body and our mind. Sometimes our mind is thinking of one thing and our body is doing another, and our mind and body are not unified. By concentrating on our breathing...we bring body and mind back together, and become whole again."

Okay, I thought. That seemed like a fair enough idea. I cannot help but think of all the things I find myself trying to do at once — reading, listening to music, thinking about how the day went at work, thinking about how it might go tomorrow — all the while taking for granted that my body is doing all of these wonderful things without any conscious thought of mine.

Seriously, if I had to remember to breathe I would have turned blue a long time ago, and nobody would ever be reading these words.That moment all those years ago has resulted in a lifelong fascination with the writings of Thich Nhat Hanh, which is why I found myself turning to see what (if any) writings of his might be able to help me deal with the anxiety I have been feeling over the past few months.

Turns out, there was. In 2012, Thich Nhat Hanh released "Fear: Essential Wisdom For Getting Through The Storm," which specifically deals with the very feelings I have been dealing with. A quick online purchase later, and I was soon reading this new book and looking to see what new things I could find in his teachings to help me today.

Turns out, I could have started from where I was many years ago.

In his new book he returns again to the idea that first drew me in at that Louisiana public library, and he teaches that the first thing to do when fear or anxiety intrudes itself upon you is to reflect upon it as you center yourself by making sure your body and mind are working together.

In order to properly know what is going on with your body — the fear, anxiety, stress, etc. — you have to be able to have your body and mind working together and understanding one-another. The first step in achieving that? Mindful breathing.

Putting aside this new book for a moment this made me look back to "Peace Is Every Step" and re-read once again the section that first caught my eye. The thought in that was that perhaps this time I might do more than just read the words, but instead understand them and try to do what they suggested.

The section I mentioned earlier? The "Present Moment, Wonderful Moment"? There is a poem it suggests to help you remember to be, y'know "present" in the moment. Each line goes with a relaxed in-breath and then out-breath…where you contemplate or read each line along with the corresponding moment.

Breathing in, I calm my body.

Breathing out, I smile.

Dwelling in the present moment,

I know that this is a wonderful moment.

How simple is that? Four lines that go along with four breaths — two in-breaths and two out-breaths.

Yesterday at work whenever I found myself a bit overwhelmed by the frustrations or challenges of a particular moment or situation, I tried my very best to return to this little contemplation poem.

Not quite up to remembering the full poem each and every time — and unwilling to carry around a book and whip it out each time I feel overwhelmed or out of sorts —I will admit to condensing the poem down to the bare essentials, as suggested by Thich Nyat Hahn himself.

Four breaths. Six words. I can not express to you clearly enough how the simple act of stopping to pay attention to myself and my breathing allowed me to calm myself and get back to the job at hand, once my anxieties had been quieted.

Four breaths. Six words. Dozens of books read and the words of one man that I will likely never meet in this life, but who has proven to be a part of mine for the past 20+ years.

Maybe these words will inspire someone to take a trip down the aisle of their own public library to see if there might be a copy of a simple white book emblazoned with a yellow flower on the cover might hold some answers for them as well.

For those of you who might shun the thought of seeking guidance from a Buddhist as it may conflict with more western religious orthodoxy, I want to close by suggesting another of this wonderful man's books — "Living Buddha, Living Christ" where the traditions of compassion and holiness meet. In Christianity, he finds mindfulness in the Holy Spirit as an agent of healing. In Buddhism, he finds unqualified love in the form of compassion for all living things. In both, he finds an emphasis on living practice and community spirit.