Breath upon Breath…

Dear Friends,

In my late 20’s I had the opportunity to attend a 10-day silent meditation retreat. I had never been in silence for that long and was excited to see what would happen. I was expecting a long orientation process with lots of discussions about Buddhism and housekeeping, but there wasn't one. We were given a laminated card for reference and a pith instruction for the first three days.

We were asked to observe the breath at the rim of the nostrils.

The process seemed so simple: I assumed it would be like cruise control. I would settle myself into my breath and the ride would be long and smooth.

I sat down on a thin foam square and tried to get my hips to soften. I found the experience of sitting so low to the ground oppressive. Toggling between the intense sensation of my back and the cool air of my breath was difficult.

As my body adjusted, I was able to track my inhalations and occasionally the exhalations, too.

Eventually, my awareness opened and I could feel much more; the shift in emphasis between my nostrils, the clogged nasal passage on my right side, the delicacy of my nose hair, the back of the nostrils where the cartilage meets the bone, the cavities themselves, their size and sensitivity, and how each side felt relative to the other.

That was day 1.

On day two, I felt the breath changing from air to form. Sometimes there was a silky quality, smooth and flowing. Other times the breath felt effortful, like someone was pulling a wiry kite string from within. Breaths were thready and labored. Breaths were luxurious and freeing. An entire dialogue ensued at the rim of respiration.

On day 3, I was able to make connections between my emotional states and the sensations in my nose. It wasn’t a surprise that expansive mental states led to expansive breathing. What was surprising was the way breath and mind moved together. The breath was much like a trampoline and the mind the person jumping and landing in all variations of force and flight.

The reason I mention all of this is because I noticed how I have a subtle bias toward controlling the breath instead of allowing the breath to educate me. There is no prize for performative trampoline jumping, and yet I still do it. When I abandon those notions and give myself permission to breathe as I am, I find so much more to relate to.

There is no greater intimacy than the tête-à-tête with our own breath.

Long live practice!

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