Namaste dear visitors:
Swamiji here. My distant cousins Baba and Maraya asked me to drop by. They thought my ancient yoga might help you stressed writers. No wonder! Dealing with all that Facebook, Twittering, Blogging, Traffic and Free Radicals. I'm told that even my distant nephews have Raspberry phones, or some such fruit!
Enough! When I was in your form, I trained a Yogi master, who trained another Yogi, (not to be confused with Yogi Berra), who trained another yogi, who trained that mystifying magician of yours, David Blaine. But human credentials are real and non-real. Just like your flowers. The daisy is yellow but no. It reflects yellow. It is not yellow. Real and non-real. The power of words.
Back to my subject. Breathing. You all do it. Now you must learn to do it with focus and release your anxieties. The Universe can handle it. So breathe with that belly of yours. Let the prana follow your spine till it fills the top must bellows, uh, lungs. Say "taking in peace" or "yeah, way cool". Say any thing or no thing. Now let go. Just let go. Bye bye crap.
Now notice that empty space just before the prana rushes in. That still space is the Void where all exists. All creativity and every thing else you need exists there. Feel it out!
Aah! Shiva shivers up and down the Kundalini path. What a way to go. Breathing in life and letting life go.