VerbAsana

Every Breath

As a young child, the breeze in my neighborhood was pure enough that the exhaust from a passing car made a noticeable difference in the air quality. I would hold my breath as long as I could and, if need be, run away from the noxious cloud to avoid polluting my lungs and body. It was basic instinctual knowledge that the quality of my breath affected the quality of my being.

I clearly remember an occasion when I was around five that I stubbed one of my big toes bloody. I was already quite experienced in stubbing at the time, but on this occasion I had the insight to sit down, look at it openly, and take a few full breaths while inviting the sensations to come through, unimpeded. I was just curious how bad it could really be, but to my astonishment the sensations almost immediately shifted from a throbbing, searing pain to a warm, tingling sensation. It was as if I'd just discovered magic. My breath had prompted me to experience what was, instead of feeling something imaginary, sired by my fears of what could or should be.

When I had the good fortune to play in a swimming pool, I would frequently quiet my mind with some slow flowing movements focusing on the sensation of the water moving across my body as I soared beneath the surface. Once settled, I'd slide down to the bottom where the outer quiet matched that which I'd cultivated inside and blissfully hover in timeless stillness.

I learned some basic pranayama (yogic breathing exercises) in high school. With this, I found reinforcement to my supposition that my breath was intricately interwoven with a deeper connection to my self and that exploring my own depths was akin to communing with all of Mother Universe.

Ancient cultures from Asia to South America realized the significance of breath and adopted breath into their rituals and healing practices. Breath has ever been synonymous with life itself. In Genesis, the bible says: "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." The Buddha taught (in brief) "Mindfulness of in-and-out breathing, when developed and pursued, brings clear knowing and complete release." In yoga, pranayama is the bridge between the outer and the inner practices. My personal discoveries proved to be echoes of those made by ancient seekers from around the globe.

As a carpenter, I've spent much time holding my breath while focusing intently on an exacting task requiring total attention: pranayama and meditation in practical application. (Yes, the irony of me spending time in a field that is so inherently contrary to lung health has not escaped me.) Tending a campfire requires less precision, but can be a similar exercise in breathless activity.

When I encounter others who are indulging in their anger, fear, or resentment, my breath is my tether to my own sense of well-being. This not only keeps me happy and healthy, but it also helps them back to their desired state, as I'm able to see the person behind the chaos and to gently hold a space for their own timely transformation.

My breath continues to increase my awareness of my physical body, my mental/emotional states, and beyond. Its movement through my heart center strengthens my feelings of connectedness to each being I encounter and to all other elements of this world. Its work deep into my belly can spark substantial impetus for movement, thought, and creation.

After years of my breath being the focus of my meditations, the driving force behind my movement, and a tool for altering my perspective, it has become my doorway to the ever-evolving moment—to a sense of timelessness where I feel perfectly content being in my own skin, whatever the circumstances, as naturally as I breathe.

As a yogi/teacher, my job is to share this knowledge with my students, empowering them to harness the power of their own breath to energize, calm, and balance themselves. I marvel at the way that breath helps people into their selves and their postures and delight when I chance to see someone "get it"—when the struggle ceases to be, and serenity takes center stage. And I know, from my own experience, that the deepening sense of self and of being present can translate into all of life, giving a fuller sense of satisfaction with whatever life presents—like the difference between simply eating a meal and really savoring it; or spying a beautiful sunset and pausing to soak it in.

Now, I still feel an obligation to myself and/or Mother Universe to try to manifest the fullest expression of my being. I understand that with each breath I invite the universal life force into and throughout my being. That its manifestation inside of me is my truest essence. And that, that spirit doesn't belong to me; I merely borrow a cup of the divine from the source of all, breath by breath. So, my wish is to be present with—to make the most of—each and every breath.

Thatcher Ross teaches meditation and is certified in both Kripalu yoga and Acu-yoga. His goal is to empower his students to maintain their own health and to explore their inherent connection to joy. You can find more information about his classes, unabridged versions of his articles, and reach him at yogabug.com or contact him by phone at (614) 885-3355.