At the end of last week’s first essay in my year-long Abecedarium, I committed myself to the word “breathe” for this “B” essay. I’m not sure I am going to commit to the word for the next letter at the end of each essay, but having done so with “breathe,” I’ve spent a lot of time over these past two weeks ruminating on the breath.
The instructor at our Thursday Stretch and Balance class at the Y always begins with a few minutes of breathing exercises to center us. I am always amazed at the impact that those few minutes of deep, structured breathing has on my physical and mental state. Why this happens is really no mystery. Our autonomous nervous system, which controls things like breathing and heart rate and digestion (functions that happen without us needing to consciously focus on them), has two parts. The sympathetic system is what drives our flight-or-fight response. It is typically characterized by short, shallow breaths and is often accompanied by release of cortisol and adrenaline. In fact, just taking short, shallow breaths can make you feel anxious. The parasympathetic system controls our rest and relaxation response. It is characterized by slow, deep, diaphragmatic breathing and is often accompanied by the release of endorphins, the hormones that calm you down.
This Stretch and Balance class is at 8:00 am, so I’m not totally awake when we get there. I’m clearly not ready for vigorous exercise. However, after we have done those few minutes of breathing exercises, my mind feels clear, my body feels ready to go, and I’m ready for Downward Dogs and Tree Poses. Before we transition from breathing exercises to “work,” the instructor suggests we pick a word to express our intention for the day. Something always comes to me that fits. It might be about calm and peace, it might be about getting things done, it might be about focus. Whatever it is, in that moment my mind knows what I need that day. That sort of clarity is so valuable.
Part of what I’ve been ruminating on is why I don’t do deep breathing exercises on my own. I know that from a vigorous exercise perspective, I do way better with an instructor. The effort I can inspire in myself pales in comparison to the effort I will output at the suggestion of an instructor. I have accepted that, which is why I go to exercise classes most of the time. But breathing? Isn’t that something I should be able to do without Jane instructing me to do so? Can’t I spend a few minutes each day deep breathing?
The problem is shutting off my very active inner voice. When Jane is talking us through three part or four part breathing, my mind is focusing on her voice and her direction and other mind chatter is silenced. When I attempt to direct myself to do these exercises, the “random chatter” side of my brain has no respect for the “breathe to a count of four” side of my brain. And before I know it, I’m breathing with shallower breaths again and my “random chatter” brain declares victory.
I’ve gone through stretches of time when I am fairly consistent with Mindfulness Meditation, which is all about controlled deep breathing. Honestly, I’ll do it for a few days in a row and then just forget about doing it. I have not been successful at making it a high enough priority that it becomes a must-do in my daily life. Maybe ruminating on this publicly will make me hold myself more accountable. (I’ve already been asked if I’ve started the Mandarin lessons on my Rosetta Stone. My very valid excuse is that it’s under a pile of crap in the office in the house. But once we are back home and unpacked, the accountability will resurface. Ni hao.)
Being so conscious of the impact of breathing over these past couple of weeks has made me painfully aware of how often I am in need of a deep breath. Many of those instances have surrounded the inevitable issues that have popped up around our home renovations. I actually asked the project manager this week how many Xanax pills he needs a day since EVERY DAY unexpected issues arise. He laughed. But he never answered my question. Trish and I continue to take turns melting down over our lack of control and desire for this to just be done. When we saw that the sinks ordered for the bathroom vanity didn’t fit (which is holding up cutting the granite for the bathroom, which is holding up the tiling, which is holding up the plumbing), I found myself involuntarily closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. When we saw that the HVAC guy had inexplicably left a two-inch roundish hole in the ceiling of the new bedroom (that had JUST been painted) next to where he cut the opening for the heat pump filter, I rolled my eyes—and then found myself closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. When Trish tripped AGAIN over the gate into the backyard that has yet to be rehung, we both yelled—and then took deep breaths. Nothing changed in the moment before the deep breaths and after, but we calmed down a bit. We knew things would be addressed, problems would be solved, and we’d find a way to deal with the outcomes. I’m finding myself taking deep breaths just writing this paragraph.
Think about how many times you tell yourself or someone else to take a deep breath. I was thinking of that during a recent Zoom call with my college friends, since we often share our stressors with each other. I think of that when I talk with my Mom and she’s dealing with stressful situations at her retirement home, or when my sister tells me about the frustrations of being on the board of her HOA. Deep breath. In to a count of four. Hold for a count of four. Out for a count of five. Repeat. Whether it truly helps you be in more Control or just gives you the illusion of that, it still makes a difference.