“Breathe deeply, until sweet air extinguishes the burn of fear in your lungs and every breath is a beautiful refusal to become anything less than infinite.”
—D. Antoinette Foy
Lovely and evocative words, but if the advice to breathe isn’t working for you, I completely get it. If you’re like me and being told to just breathe makes you want to just scream, we should be friends.
Just breathe? The human body comes fully equipped to handle that exact task automatically. And cheers! I’m thankful for the fact my nervous system has that function on lock-down.
Intentionally breathing has always been one of those seemingly universal spiritually uplifting practices that didn’t seem to work for me, a practice for people with fewer problems or stronger willpower. On occasions where I did try it, my chest felt heavy and odd, and I didn’t like the effects. So, for a long time, my personal mindfulness practice involved “gentle attention” on the breath, and thus, I formed a happy compromise for many years.
A few weeks ago, I discovered a TED Talk called “Breathe to Heal.” The speaker, Max Strom, asserts quite confidently that his breathwork practice will make people feel better in ten minutes.
Ten minutes? Now, it may be helpful to note here that I’ve become a more frugal person with age, and ten minutes seemed like a conspicuously good deal. The cost vs. potential benefit analysis encouraged a temporary suspension of disbelief.
I tried the exercise as an experiment with one caveat: I wouldn’t push too hard if it ended up feeling wrong and overly uncomfortable.
The practice:
- Breathe deeply from belly to chest, making your ribs stretch a little out to the sides. Exhale.
- Do this again, inhaling for a count of four beats. If you’re curious, I nailed it. A+!
- Hold your breath for a count of seven beats. I thought to myself, “That’s not right. I’m not David Blaine!” I held my breath for a more modest, but arguably respectable, four seconds.
- Exhale for a count of eight beats. I exhaled until it felt natural to take the next breath.
It took some repetition, but I began to consider that there was something to this “just breathe” stuff. This was much simpler than other more rigorous exercises, and more approachable. Surprisingly, it felt like an immense weight had been taken off my shoulders. I felt very peaceful.
With more practice, it’s become more natural to integrate throughout my day to re-tune or release.
I carry with me a book called When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron. It’s almost poetically worn around the edges, and the gold-embossed lettering on the front has faded. It has often spoken to me in times of sorrow, pain and uncertainty.
There’s a phrase that’s stuck to me: This moment is our teacher.
It’s a comforting assurance that no matter where you are in life, you are in the perfect place to learn, grow and change. Coupled with intentional breathing, I can get in a better headspace to accept the lesson in front of me.
Now I have this tool I can take with me anywhere I go, and things become a little more possible to work with.
I share this with you with the hope that it might be helpful when you need it most.
Feel free to try it; be sure to adapt it to what works for you.
(Curious about Max Strom’s TED Talk mentioned earlier? Check it out here.)
—Jessica Lien, Prairiewoods development coordinator