Keep Breathing
- 3 days ago
- 15 min read
Sunday Service, 21 June 2026
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Claude Debussy, ed. Susann McDonald - The Maid with the Flaxen Hair (performed by Grace Cross)
Opening Words: ‘For Those Gathered in Worship’ by Barbara J. Pescan
In this familiar place, listen:
to the sounds of breathing, creaking chairs,
shuffling feet, clearing throats, and sighing all around
Know that each breath, movement, the glance
meant for you or intercepted
holds a life within it.
These are signs
that we choose to be in this company
have things to say to each other
things not yet said but in each other’s presence still
trembling behind our hearts’ doors
these doors closed but unlocked
each silent thing waiting
on the threshold between unknowing and knowing,
between being hidden and being known.
Find the silence among these people
and listen to it all—breathing, sighs,
movement, holding back—
hear the tears that have not yet reached their eyes
perhaps they are your own
hear also the laughter building deep where joy abides
despite everything. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Barbara J. Pescan welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining via Zoom, and anyone tuning in at a later date via YouTube or the podcast. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.
This morning’s service is titled ‘Keep Breathing’. Over the next hour, we’ll reflect on the power of the breath as a spiritual anchor amid the storms of life. I hope this will be a gentle, contemplative hour – almost impressionistic – as we draw on the insights of wise teachers and the more oblique truths revealed in poetry, and take time to sing, pray, meditate, and breathe together. As the Buddhist teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, once said: ‘Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts. Whenever your mind becomes scattered, use your breath as the means to take hold of your mind again.’
Chalice Lighting: ‘The Persistent Flame’ by Amy G. S. A. Brooks
Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. It’s a moment for us to stop and take a breath, settle ourselves down, put aside any preoccupations we came in carrying. This simple ritual connects us in solidarity with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proud and historic progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.
(light chalice)
We light this chalice
to kindle a flame of warmth
as a reminder
of the connection that draws us in
to a community that opens us up
in gratitude
for the breath in our lungs
and the love in our hearts,
for the gift of this day, alive.
Hymn 147 (purple): ‘Spirit of Earth, Root, Stone and Tree’
Let us sing together now. Our first hymn is number 147 in the purple book ‘Spirit of Earth, Root, Stone and Tree’. It’s a lovely lilting hymn for a summer’s day. For those joining on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and sing up!
Spirit of earth, root, stone and tree,
water of life, flowing in me,
keeping me stable, nourishing me,
O fill me with living energy!
Spirit of nature, healing and free,
spirit of love, expanding in me,
spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,
inspire me with living energy!
Spirit of love, softly draw near,
open my heart, lessen my fear,
sing of compassion, help me to hear,
O fill me with loving energy!
Spirit of nature, healing and free,
spirit of love, expanding in me,
spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,
inspire me with living energy!
Spirit of life, you are my song,
sing in my soul, all my life long,
gladden and guide me, keep me from wrong,
O fill me with sacred energy!
Spirit of nature, healing and free,
spirit of love, expanding in me,
spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,
inspire me with living energy!
Candles of Joy and Concern:
Each week when we gather together, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, an opportunity to light a candle and share something that is in our heart with the community. So we’ve an opportunity now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle and say a few words about what it represents. We’ll go to the people in the building first, then to Zoom.
So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us who or what you light your candle for – please keep it brief – be considerate of others. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak, as we want people to be able to hear you.
(in person candles)
And if that’s everyone in the room we’ll go over to the people on Zoom next – you might like to switch to gallery view at this stage – just unmute yourselves when you are ready and speak out – and we should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.
(zoom candles)
And I’m going to light one more candle, as we often do, to represent all those joys and concerns that we hold in our hearts this day, but which we don’t feel able to speak out loud. (light candle)
Time of Prayer & Reflection: based on words by Leaf Seligman
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. The is based on words by Leaf Seligman and it invites us to focus on our breath as part of our prayerful practice. You might want to adjust your position, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever helps you get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – be fully present – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us. (pause)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being,
we turn our full attention to you, the light within and without,
as we tune in to the depths of this life, and the greater wisdom
to which – and through which – we are all intimately connected.
Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the
silence and stillness at the very centre of our being. (pause)
Let us pause in the stillness to rest for a while,
to quiet ourselves so that we can feel what stirs within.
Each breath draws us closer to the pulse of life
and with each exhalation we make room for something new.
May we find in this gathering the comfort of those who care.
May we encounter patience along our growing edges
and compassion in our most tender spots.
When life presses in and shifts us off balance,
when pain assails us, and frustration mounts,
may the rhythm of our breath steady us
and bring us back to a place of gratitude.
Here, in this community of the spirit, may we find
the inspiration and encouragement we need
to face our challenges and nurture ourselves.
And in the presence of suffering across the globe
may we redouble our efforts to practice kindness and justice
- right where we are - with the hope that the light of our actions
will travel like the light of faraway stars to reach far beyond our knowing. (pause)
In a few quiet moments let us take some time to pray inwardly the prayers of our own hearts;
calling to mind all those souls we know to be suffering this day, whether close to home, or
on the other side of the world. Let us hold all these sacred beings in the light of love. (pause)
Let us also pray for ourselves; we too are sacred beings who face our own struggles and muddle
through life’s ups and downs. So let us take a few moments to reflect on our own lives, and
ask for what we most need this day – comfort, forgiveness, or guidance – to flourish. (pause)
And let us take just a little longer to remember the good things in life and give thanks for them.
Those moments in the past week where we’ve encountered generosity, kindness, or pleasure.
Let us cultivate a spirit of gratitude as we recall all those moments that lifted our spirits. (pause)
Spirit of Life – God of all Love – as this time of prayer comes to a close, we offer up
our joys and concerns, our hopes and fears, our beauty and brokenness,
and we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal.
As we look forward now to the coming week,
help us to live well each day and be our best selves;
using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice and peace. Amen.
Hymn 111 (purple): ‘O Brother Sun, Sister Moon’
Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is number 111 in your purple books – based on the words of St Francis: ‘O Brother Sun, Sister Moon’.
O Brother Sun, you bring us light,
all shining ‘round in fiery might.
O Sister Moon, you heal and bless,
your beauty shines in tenderness.
O Brother Wind, you sweep the hills,
your mighty breath both freshens and fills.
O Sister Water, you cleanse and flow
through rivers and streams, in ice and snow.
O Brother Fire, you warm our night
with all your dancing coloured light.
O Sister Earth, you feed all things,
all birds, all creatures, all scales and wings.
O Sister Death, you meet us here
and take us to our God so near.
O God of Life, we give you praise
for all your creatures, for all your ways.
ONLINE Reading: ‘Here. Now. You.’ by Kat Liu (read by Lochlann)
This piece by UU Buddhist Kat Liu opens with a well-known saying by Thich Nhat Hanh: “Breathing in, there is only the present moment. Breathing out, it is a wonderful moment.”
Kat Liu tells her story: When I heard the Venerable’s robes rustle at what I estimated to be about forty minutes, and yet she did not give the signal that our sitting meditation had ended, that’s when I knew she would take us to the full hour. But my knees were complaining and my mind was bored with counting breaths. What to do in the time remaining? Suddenly a stray thought entered: What if this were your last breath?
Funny thing, I immediately began to breathe slower. Drawing in the air to fill every crevice of my lungs and then slowly pushing it out until there was nothing left to expel. “Well,” I thought, “I must want to live.”
Of course, when I got to the end of that “last” breath I was still there.
So I began another breath, still asking, What if this were your last breath? There were flashes of regret—unfinished projects, loved ones grieving—but one breath isn’t enough time to do anything about regrets. There was only enough time to experience the moment, to know that I was there, breathing.
Inhalation. Exhalation. When the moment passed, there was the next moment, and the next. In this way, I spent the remaining twenty minutes entirely in the present.
Outside of the meditation hall, we still plan for the future and think of the past. But so often we replay past regrets and worry about future events to the point where we’re no longer present in the present. As the Venerable says, “We forget that we are breathing.”
(pause)
When stuck in traffic, waiting in line, or anytime there’s nothing to do other than be present, find a comfortable position in which you can breathe freely.
Consider: what if this were your last breath?
Just for this moment, believe that this is all you have. No time to worry about the future or the past. Just enough time to know that you are breathing.
Draw it in. Savour the sensation of your lungs filling. Savour your heart beating.
Savour the sensation of your chest relaxing as you exhale.
Inhalation. Exhalation. Here. Now. You.
Singing Meditation: ‘Meditation on Breathing’
As we move into meditation we’re going to do something slightly different today. On your hymn sheet you have the words – very simple words – of a sung meditation on breathing. I know at least some of you are already familiar with this. The words are very simple: When I breathe in, I’ll breathe in peace; When I breathe out, I’ll breathe out love. And there’s an even simpler drone part which repeats ‘breathe in, breathe out’ on one note. You can choose any one of the lines – melody, descant, or drone – and stick with it. Or you can switch willy-nilly between the three which is what I like to do.
When it comes to chanting I have a policy and that’s to keep singing long enough that the chant long enough for it to do its work on us. That means long enough that people who haven’t sung it before have a chance to learn the tune; long enough for those who know it to get bored; and still keep going round and round until we emerge out the other side of boredom into something more profound. So I’ll keep track of how long we’ve been going so you don’t have to worry about it! I’ll sit down while we’re chanting but when it’s time to come to a close I’ll stand up to indicate this and we’ll just come to the end of the melody. That’s a lot of instructions but I think it’s good to be clear! After that, we will hold a few minutes of shared silence, during which you might like to continue focusing on the breath, and the silence will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear some lovely music from Grace.
All that said, Andrew, can you give us the melody line, and we’ll all sing it through once together?
And then the descant line? And finally the drone. So let’s give it our best go and just keep going!
‘Meditation on Breathing’
When I breathe in, I’ll breathe in peace.
When I breathe out, I’ll breathe out love.
(breathe in. breathe out)
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Erik Satie, trans. Yolanda Kondonassis - Gymnopédie No. 1 (performed by Grace Cross)
Reading: ‘Breath’ by David Whyte (excerpt, adapted) (read by John)
Breath is a word that wants us to live in our mouths in the same way that it can live in our own bodies: without undue effort, and left to itself, relying on the easy, rested, autonomic give and take of the body itself. Real rest is the breath simply looking after itself and looking after everything else as it does it. Breath is not only an invitation into the body but the essence of the way we already know how to live in that body. Easy, relaxed, breathing always leads to surprise: at how centred we already are, how unhurried we are underneath it all, how patient we never knew we could be.
Breath is the very first thing we give to this world and the very last thing we are allowed to take from it. Breathing is what we do before we understand a single thing about our world, and the last thing we will do despite all of our hard-earned wisdom. The first breath an infant takes and the last breath they will take, are both seen intuitively, no matter our beliefs, no matter if we are religious or not, as moments of pure holiness, whether their life in between could be described that way or not. Breath bookends our life but also every single moment of our lives; between each breath is where everything happens, and where, if we really inhabit the breath everything that happens is magnified.
Breath is the essence of generosity in its thankless companionship and the emblem of faithfulness in its constant visiting and its momentary merciful absences, fetching and carrying for us without our thanks or appreciation; inviting and reassuring, no matter our outward difficulties: breath is one of the few dynamics in our wilful lives that works constantly on our behalf without needing coercion, praise or forceful encouragement. Breath invites us to live our life as generously and as easily in its giving and taking as breath itself. Breath is the unquenchable source of both visible and invisible help in our days, giving when we do not ask, teaching us, with each in-breath, how to receive when we feel we do not deserve to receive.
Breath anchors and holds us practically in the rhythm of time and the rhythm in each and every moment of our days while holding within its amplitude and depths. Breath is the alpha and omega of our being, the essence of our ability to give and to receive; breath sustains our everyday practical existence, while beckoning us into the deeper timeless tidal rhythms beyond any possibility glimpsed in our everyday life.
Breath is a parable telling us how to live, how to give and receive, and how in the most restful way, to let it all go in the end. Every breath, fully taken, is our daily, unconscious, reconnaissance of the invisible frontier between life and that mysterious, literally breath-taking, giving-up we have only arbitrarily decided to call a death.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘Breath of God’
Time for another hymn now – it’s on your hymn sheet – ‘Breath of God’. We haven’t sung this one in a very long time so I’ll ask Andrew to play it through once for us in full. Let’s give it our best.
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what thou dost love,
And do what thou wouldst do.
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Until my heart is pure,
Until with thee I will one will,
To do or to endure.
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Till I am wholly thine,
Till all this earthly part of me
Glows with thy fire divine.
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
So shall I never die,
But live with thee the perfect life
Of thine eternity.
Poem: ‘Breathing Room’ by James Crews (read by Juliet)
There should be a room in every house
or office building set aside strictly
for breathing. No speaking allowed,
no phones, clocks or other devices
may be brought inside. Let the walls
be empty and white, only potted ferns
stirring near windows thrown open
to a night-breeze bearing the scents
of jasmine and lilac. You can count
if you like until your heartbeat slows
to its own natural pace, and your mind’s
as blank as a page in the back of a book.
If someone asks for directions, say
it’s the room at the end of the hall
with nothing else in it but a few plants
and all the air you can breathe.
Poem: ‘Blessing of Breathing’ by Jan Richardson (read by Jasmine)
That the first breath
will come without fear.
That the second breath
will come without pain.
The third breath:
that it will come without despair.
And the fourth,
without anxiety.
That the fifth breath
will come with no bitterness.
That the sixth breath
will come for joy.
Breath seven:
that it will come for love.
May the eighth breath
come for freedom.
And the ninth,
for delight.
When the tenth breath comes,
may it be for us
to breathe together,
and the next,
and the next,
until our breathing
is as one,
until our breathing
is no more.
Poem: ‘First Breath’ by Adam Lawrence Dyer (read by Azita)
That first breath must be delicious.
It must be more tantalizing,
more intoxicating than any drug,
fragrant like no flower will ever be
enticing like no body scent.
It must be all of this, and more
yet without words or memories, how do we know?
That first glorious rush of air
wants us to keep breathing
wants our hearts to keep beating
wants our eyes to open and see
wants our souls to open and say “yes.”
The first breath wants us to live all our life saying,
please God,
let me live
let me breathe
for just one day more
until we breathe our very last.
Hymn 83 (purple): ‘Just As Long as I Have Breath’
Time for one last hymn now, number 83 in your purple books, ‘Just as Long as I Have Breath’.
Just as long as I have breath,
I must answer, "Yes," to life;
though with pain I made my way,
still with hope I meet each day.
If they ask what I did well,
tell them I said, "Yes," to life.
Just as long as vision lasts,
I must answer, "Yes," to truth;
in my dream and in my dark,
always that elusive spark.
If they ask what I did well,
tell them I said, "Yes," to truth.
Just as long as my heart beats,
I must answer, "Yes," to love;
disappointment pierced me through,
still I kept on loving you.
If they ask what I did best,
tell them I said, "Yes," to love.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Grace for lovely music, Andrew for accompanying our hymns, and Edwin for supporting our singing. Thanks to Lochlann, John, Juliet, Jasmine and Azita for reading. Thanks to Juliet for greeting and Azita for making coffee. If you’re online stay for a chat with Charlotte if you can. If you’re in-person please do stay for tea and cake (it’s Victoria Sponge or Carrot Squiggle Cake this week).
This afternoon we have our summer solstice labyrinth mini-retreat from 1pm-3.30pm. That’s led by me and Sarah and we could squeeze one or two more people in if you haven’t signed up.
Tonight and Friday we’ve got our online ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week it’s on the theme of ‘Praise’ – sign up for that with me please.
Our walking group seems doomed! For the third month in a row we’ve called it off as it’s meant to be 34 degrees on Tuesday. We’re going to give it a rest for the summer – back in September.
This month in the Better World Book Club we’re reading ‘Just About Coping’, that’s about mental health, written by London psychologist Natalie Cawley, let me know if you would like to come.
The LDPA – our London District Association – has got a place to walk in the London Pride parade on Sat 4th July so if you’d like to march behind the Unitarian banner contact the district minister.
Vita is going to be offering a Sunday afternoon workshop on Indian Head Massage on 5th July.
Next Sunday our service is titled ‘Little by Little’. That’ll be followed by singing with Margaret.
Details of all our various activities are printed on the order of service, and also in the Friday email, so sign up for our mailing list if you haven’t already done so, and the summer newsletter is out (if you know anyone who might be interested in what we do then take a copy to give them for free). The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections.
Just time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: based on words by Craig Rowland
As we extinguish this chalice flame,
may its hopeful light remain within us,
encouraging our spirits and guiding our steps.
Let us carry forward the strength of this community,
the courage to speak truth and live with integrity,
and the hope that transformation is possible.
And in each breath we take, may we remember
that the work of love, justice, and healing is ours
to continue—both here and beyond these walls.
Go in peace, with the light of this gathering to illuminate your way. Amen.
Closing Music: Samuel O. Pratt - The Little Fountain (performed by Grace Cross)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
21st June 2026