The Medicine of Breath

The Medicine of Breath
Turns out enlightenment is just good oxygen management.

A few months ago, during a silent retreat, I experienced a guided holotropic breathwork session, led by an experienced somatic therapist.

I lay on my mat, eyes closed, rhythmic music drowning out the sounds of the synchronized breathing around me. Within minutes, I could feel energy building in my body. At first, my hands tingled. Then, as the time went by, they burned. Heat surged through me, then waves of cold. I was sweating, my mind focused intently on the raw symphony of my own breath. It was as if every cell in my body began to hum with life.

At the peak of the session, the tension that had been stored in my body for months, possibly years, erupted and released. I felt as though I had stepped outside myself while somehow being more in myself than ever before. When it ended, I lay still, tears of joy and gratitude flowing down my cheeks, completely emptied yet profoundly whole. It was as if my breath had reached into every hidden corner of my being and reminded me what it meant to be alive.

That moment changed my relationship with my body forever.

Before that retreat, I had been running on fumes. I was exhausted, irritable, and weighed down by the unrelenting pace of everyday life. I snapped easily, often over things that didn’t matter. Even my relationship with my wife carried the tension of that constant strain, my unending irritability wearing her down. I was exercising, eating well, going to therapy, doing all the “right” things yet something fundamental was off. I was trying to fix my mind through thinking, my body through movement, and had never thought to look towards the bridge that connects them both: the breath.

Since that day, I’ve practiced breathwork daily. Some sessions are short, just ten minutes before an important meeting or during an afternoon slump when my energy dips. Those sessions revive me more effectively than any espresso ever could. At night, I use slow, deep breathing to lull myself to sleep, exhaling away the stress of the day. And when time allows, I dive deeper, giving myself over to longer sessions that feel almost psychedelic in their depth. Each time, I return to stillness more grounded, more present, more myself.

The transformation has been remarkable. I’m calmer, more focused, less reactive. When challenges arise, I meet them with clarity instead of tension. The pressures of life have not eased up; I have softened.

Breathwork has become my daily reset, a way to regulate my nervous system and empty the clutter that builds up from the day’s chaos. It’s astonishing that something we do unconsciously every second can hold such power to transform how we live.

There’s a reason Navy SEALs are trained in box breathing, a simple technique of inhaling, holding, exhaling, and holding again, each for four counts. It helps them stay calm under fire, steady under extreme pressure. The breath, with its steady rhythm, anchors them in the present moment. If it can serve warriors in chaos, it can serve us in the quiet wars of our daily lives.

What makes breathwork so profound isn’t just the physiological effects like oxygenating the blood, releasing stress hormones, and regulating the nervous system. It reminds us of what we’ve long forgotten, that control and surrender aren’t opposites but partners in the same dance. The breath is where the two meet. We take control by breathing consciously; we surrender by exhaling completely.

Each breath is both an arrival and a letting go.

I now think of the breath as my constant companion, the silent witness that’s been with me since birth and will be there in my final moments. It connects me to everything: to life, to my body, to the here and now. When I lose myself in thought, when the noise of the world pulls me away from stillness, the breath calls me home.

So, dear reader, if you’ve been feeling overwhelmed, anxious, or drained, I invite you to leverage the ever-present power of your own breath. Start small. Try a few rounds of box breathing; in for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four. Notice how it feels. Let your breath lead you back to yourself.

And if you’d like some professional guidance, I recommend Breathe with Sandy on YouTube or Kirsty Lyon on Insight Timer. They are both wonderful resources for beginners and advanced practitioners alike.

Until next week,

Ric


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