I don’t think I ever knew how to breathe.
This sounds silly, perhaps, because clearly I am still here, but bear with me a moment… I lost the ability to trust my breath, and my body, somewhere in my past. Now, I can look back on it and place some intellectual assessment on it, say that because I was ruthlessly bullied for being “chunky” and bigger than all the other kids, I tried to hide the sound of my breathing, especially any heavy breathing, out of fear. Some call it panic attacks from PTSD. I might have even taken up smoking cigarettes at 11 as some roundabout way to sneak in deep breaths among my enemies. But as I got older and wanted to pursue more vigorous activities, such as martial arts and hiking and running, I kept coming up against this limitation I had set for myself when I was very young, even though I didn’t recognize it as such.
I literally had to relearn how to breathe, and I KNOW, beyond any doubt, that I am not alone in this. In fact, I learned that so many of us in this western culture never breathe deeply. I feel that this contributes to our collective insomnia, heightened levels of anxiety, blood pressure, headaches, and overall confusion, especially as we age and stop moving more and more and need to breathe less and less deeply. So I stumbled upon this in yoga class – breath training exercises. But the real need didn’t hit home for me until a few years later. I began to work on improving my fitness, and started trying to run. I, like so many others, embarked on a couch-to-5k plan, and although I managed to begin, there was no joy or freedom in my runs for many years. I would get to a certain place, just about a mile in, and be overcome with panic and sometimes really explosive intestinal distress. My heart rate would skyrocket, and I was just not able to take a breath, and I would have to stop.
My doctor diagnosed this as “exercise induced asthma” which I now translate to I have no idea, so let me just prescribe something. So I used the inhaler, and I never really thought it helped, so I stopped using it. I think I still have one in the junk drawer from a dozen years ago.
Fast forward a few years. I began running, or shuffling, as I called it, alone, in the woods. I took the time to pay attention to what my body was telling me. When I needed to stop and breathe, I did so. I breathed loud and hard, and there was nobody to assault me. I told myself I wasn’t going to abandon myself, over and over and over. And I started to hear. I incorporated mantras that I learned that included my intentions “May all circumstances serve to awaken this heart and mind”. Yes, even these gagging, suffocating panic attacks. I chose to look inward, listen, and learn.
Gradually, slooooooowly, I began to notice my breath. I researched how to breathe, and I learned how to effect my experience with my breath. Long, controlled exhales and shorter inhales. Only recently did I learn that the panic sets in due to an abundance of CO2 in the lungs, and the longer exhales force this stale air out. For whatever reason, I had to learn it the hard way. But I learned it. My body TOLD me. And now I am reminded of these simple, beautiful breath practices I learned in Yoga class, and I want to make sure that I raise a big banner in support. Move past panic attacks, improve cardiovascular and pulmonary health, sleep better, live with more ease. No brainer.
