April | 2020 | Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray)

I’ve been thinking a lot about the breath, about breathing. For whatever reason, not being able to breathe is one of my biggest fears. It’s why I didn’t really learn to swim until a few years ago, (I couldn’t put my face in the water, because I couldn’t BREATHE and was certain I was going to die), and why sometimes when I’m getting a massage and I’m face down, I have a full on panic attack, have to stop the whole process and can only finish if I stay up on my elbows, head raised. This adds a whole other level to my anxiety about COVID-19. I ordered a finger pulse oximeter to keep at home, (if I get sick and think I’m not getting enough oxygen, I can check my levels and I’ll either know I need to go to the hospital or have tangible proof that I am in fact okay), and I’ve been practicing these breathing exercises each night before I go to sleep.

In yoga, we consciously practice with our breath. It is so central to the practice, so essential, it has its own category: Pranayama. “Prana” is our vital, universal life force and “ayama” means to regulate or lengthen. Pranayama is the effort to consciously control our life force. As typically our body is breathing without us paying much attention to it, this practice brings intention to our breathing, brings our full system into balance.

Working with our breath allows us to be fully present. It brings our mind, heart, and body into alignment. Breathing nourishes our body. It also allows us to make space, literally and figuratively, for whatever arises. Consciously breathing can calm our nervous system and at the same time bring necessary support to our physical body, especially in times of stress or illness. There is no life without breath.

I’ve also been thinking about the double meaning of “breathe easy.” In relation to physical health, it’s a good sign when we can breathe easily, when our airways are unobstructed and our respiration is regulated, unlabored. Also, when we are in a calm and confident state, our mind clear and our emotions manageable, we breathe easy. In such a time as this, it seems even more important to be in touch with our breath, to practice soothing, restoring, and energizing ourselves with our breath.

May you and I breathe easy, kind and gentle reader. May we come home to ourselves on each inhale, surrendering what no longer serves us on each exhale. As Joan Halifax (an American Zen Buddhist teacher, anthropologist, ecologist, civil rights activist, hospice caregiver, and the author of several books on Buddhism and spirituality) posted on Facebook this morning:

May I be open to the true nature of life.
May I open to the unknown as I let go of the known.
May I offer gratitude to those around me.
May I be grateful for this life.
May I and all beings live and die peacefully.

1. Signs of spring, especially the blooms. I am really missing having flowers in my bathroom, (but not enough to risk going in to the store to buy some). Soon I’ll be able to bring some in from my own garden. I’m especially looking forward to the lilacs and peonies and the tall spikes of white irises with yellow tongues that my friend Ann gifted me the year before she died.

2. Things I miss. The gratitude isn’t about not having them or the sense of sad longing I feel when I think about them, but rather the clarity that comes with being so certain how much you love something, to know without a doubt what matters. On the top of my list is my yoga students, group yoga classes, the pool and sauna at my gym, hugging my friends, seeing my family “in person”, my friend’s dogs, massages from Dana, haircuts, going out to eat, seeing a movie in the theater with popcorn and soda pop, grocery shopping, (in particular being able to go in without fear, find and buy anything you want, which leads to eating what I want not just what I have).

3. Practice. I’ve always been someone who does much better with a routine, something to ground me and give my days structure. It’s probably related to being a highly sensitive introvert. I like at least some things to be predictable, the same, dependable, to give me a sense of structure and stability amidst the confusion, chaos, and change that is life. This has never been truer than now, and I’m so grateful that every day there are at least a few things that will repeat, stay the same.

4. I’m still here, still healthy and safe. It’s never a guarantee and I’m grateful.

5. Morning walks. Most days when I go now, it’s all four of us, and I am not mad about that.

6. My tiny family. As hard as this moment is, it could be so much harder without these three. If I have to stay home all the time, if I’m scared or sad, there’s no one I’d rather be with.

Bonus joy: the internet, video chatting with Mikalina and Chloe’, good TV, good books, good podcasts, comedians, naps, a warm shower, doing yoga and HIIT workouts with Eric, sitting in the backyard in the sun, cuddling with the dogs, hugs from Eric, the way he asks me “what can I do for you?”, texting with my brother and mom, breakfast for dinner, the new skillet Eric bought, marionberry jam, laughing.