We’re told to breathe.

Why should we be told? Isn’t breathing something that comes naturally, is innate to all living things?  Inhale and exhale. Easy. Or is it?

As an adult, I didn’t know how to breathe properly until I was working on my MFA in Dance.  In many of my graduate classes, the act of breathing was studied, discussed, and practiced. I learned there is a moment at the top of an inhale, where you can’t take any more oxygen in, where you pause (unconsciously) and then you exhale.

I thought it was all somewhat irrelevant, even a little absurd, until I went back to my job as a university dance teacher. Suddenly, I was aware of my student’s breathing patterns. Some were shallow breathers (like me). In out, in out, with no thought at all. Others breathed deeply, steadily, fully. Those dancers seemed calmer, more in control. I also noticed they had more stamina during the hard combinations I would give at the end of class.

I went back and looked at my notes from grad school. They made more sense, and I found ways to share what I had at first dismissed as irrelevant with my students.

It turns out the act of breathing is natural, but to do it well we need to be intentional, aware of our habits, of our process.

I thought of this today because I feel like I have been metaphorically exhaling a lot lately. Getting rid of things, for myself and  for family members. Saying good bye to things I have loved.

Releasing rather than holding on.

What I learned about breathing years ago helps me stilI: That for every breath in there is an equal breath out. It’s even one of Sir Isaac Newton’s laws of action: “Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.”

It is exactly proportional. Try it. Breathe in deeply til you have to stop, then exhale just a little bit. Breathe deeply again. (You really can’t. Not for long.)

So, maybe I haven’t been exhaling more than I’ve been inhaling. Maybe I’ve just been inhaling something that isn’t tangible physically, like all the books and photos I’ve been exhaling or letting go of. Maybe I’ve been inhaling a desire to simplify, to trust that “things” aren’t the source of happiness and satisfaction, and that taking that in enables me to let go of the tangible things I used to think were needed in order to hold onto my memories, my childhood, -- part of my  identity. I tell myself that as long as I continue to grow I can’t lose what is valuable. The “pearls” in our life are not material.

 It makes me wonder what else I can exhale. Old fears, old, moldy character traits, torn never-to-be-used-again prejudices. What do I need to inhale in order to have an equal exhale of those things? To breathe intentionally, with purpose and expectation.

My dancers who learned this lesson, or knew it already, were able to attack the hardest part of their technique class with energy, stamina, and joy. They were able to keep going when others fell away. They were able to appreciate the beauty and strength inherent in the act of dancing.

This ability is natural to all of us. Young children know that and do it beautifully, effortlessly. Maybe we can all recapture that in our mature years. Breathe In. Pause. Breathe out. Repeat.

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