I’ve been practicing this Wim Hof breathing video
every day for almost a week…
It’s eaten into my music time on my cushion,
but now I’m breathing more consciously—
and maybe when my breath is strong enough,
I will breathe consciously as I play my music.
I have been preparing for this moment for so long:
Where I feel totally free and at ease,
allowing myself to create authentically
from my deepest center,
letting the love of life, of presence
flow from me, radiating harmony into the world.
As a teacher I can be in control;
I tell you what to do,
and I expect you to do it.
But when I’m the student,
I get antsy…I want to fiddle with things.
Tonight I was a student
in a breathwork class.
I remembered the necessity of trust
allowing the teacher to hold the space for me.
It felt strange at first,
because I am chronically the one who does the holding.
As I breathed
and the layers of my emotional body were peeled back
to reveal what was percolating underneath it all,
I remembered the saying
How you do anything is how you do everything.
I thought about how LIfe as my teacher
must get so frustrated with me, my fiddling.
Life just wants me to trust and surrender,
allowing the space to be held for me,
allowing myself to be held.
I give the good medicine that heals.
My voice carries magic
that soothes, uplifts and restores.
My touch brings life and renewal.
I watch as tension melts away
and peace returns to those
who come seeking the healing I offer.
I instruct them to remain present.
I remind them that we only have this now.
I can articulate perfectly
how our brains are hardwired
to remember negative information,
and how there is so much hope
our brain’s capacity to be reshaped.
I marvel at this ability
to give my students what they need,
to instruct poses that strengthen,
balance, reshape and empower,
to guide their breathing,
slow their heart rates
and allow the present moment
to blossom like a flower within them.
But when it’s time for me
to take my own medicine—
well, let’s just say
that I’m a wonderful doctor
but a terrible patient.
Take a breath, now,
long, slow and deep—
how do you feel?
Just one breath,
just one breath,
long, slow and deep—
You are peace.
I learned a breathing technique last night,
and this morning,
I ditched my established meditation routine
and focused on this one thing.
It was kind of amazing
to try something new.
After more than 1.5 years doing the same thing,
it was a revelation
to just switch it up.
And then I wondered,
In what other areas of my life
have I gotten stuck in a routine,
and where else do I need to
ditch the old
and just switch it up?
Standing here, looking forward
I can hope, I feel strong,
I know I can make it through this.
I feel angry, I feel hurt,
I feel betrayed,
I am filled with grief.
Standing here, right here
in this present moment,
I am aware of the swirls of thought
and my tendency to look back
and to look forward.
Standing here, opening my eyes,
I see what choices I have.
I sit down.
I close my eyes.
I breathe in and out, slowly.
This moment is all I ever have.
This moment is all I ever need to know.