Journal page, Drozda
As the outside world grows less dependable,
I keep buttressing my inside world,
where people go on meaning well and surprising
other people with little touches of grace.
Anne Tyler
I’ve been holding my breath. It’s a shocking truth and it’s still hard to wrap my head around. Off and on, since a series of events last spring, I have been a scared rabbit breathing high and shallow.
It was a shock to find out that I was forgetting to breathe. Then I had to get real regarding the ripple effects: confusion, anger, embarrassment, and shame. Situations make it clear that I had a big ol’ blindspot! Within weeks it became time for it to be known.
My mentor, Alice, helped guide me for more than two decades. She helped me learn that we are challenged to grow right up until our last breath. Her life demonstrated that the lessons don’t necessarily get easier. I didn’t want to know that. I figured I had already endured enough of the hard/bad stuff.
Then: Alice died suddenly. She was on the earth and then she was gone. A large manilla envelope had arrived four days earlier, before the phone call. In the envelope was a long hand-written letter along with four of Alice’s ‘watercolor poem’ paintings. A few days passed and then a phone call from a friend told me that Alice did not survive the accident on a long dark dirt road in New Mexico. She was on her way to meet up with a group of friends for a chanting session. The small Toyota pickup truck that her husband, Larry, was driving struck a rock, rolled, and killed my dear one instantly.
Everybody dies, yet it is shocking. Take a deep breath.
As of this past spring, when three specific events happened, I had stopped breathing deeply. I didn’t know. I certainly didn’t know that I generally stop breathing when confronted. I didn’t yet realize that I stop breathing when challenged. I hadn’t yet learned that I stop breathing when scared. It would be a long time before I learned that I stop breathing when surprised.
My yoga practice began when I was 22 years old. I am grateful, faithful, and disciplined.
Most mornings I practice filling my lungs with air. I love alternate nostril breathing, deep abdominal breathing, and Yoga Nidra.
I have invested in scores of healing breath and bodywork sessions. I understand the need to fill the chest cavity deep and wide visualizing the lungs as if they are brown paper lunch bags being filled completely. Yet off the mat, away from class, I didn’t realize that I often default to the shallow, top-of-lungs, fear-based air intake of a cornered small animal.
Truth be told this pattern may very well have been with me forever. I was one of those ‘blue babies’ whisked away to incubation at birth. Mother often told me that she slept with me on her chest for my first 18 months so that she could provide me with additional warmth.
I recall standing in the dark of my Wren House living room at 3 am. It was summer and suddenly a fox streaked across the dark and shadowy lawn. Moments later a large dog ran through in hot pursuit. It was a striking image that has never left me. I recognize that life-threatening moment.
It is as if I have been chased.
It is as if I am being pursued.
I feel wary.
I wonder what’s around the corner?
An internal switch definitely tripped last spring. I panicked. I started wondering.
Wondering, always wondering. When will the other shoe drop?
I am consciously noticing
once again.
I catch my breath.
Gasp.
For air.
I have been sinking deep into my faith that life works while at the same time balancing this current inquiry:
How can life work?
Can life be trusted?
These are not questions that are mine alone to ask. From the winter solstice to the spring equinox each year there is time for reflection. In Buddhist teachings, this mystical segment of the year, which includes the Lunar New Year, becomes a time for reclaiming our True Nature. (Here’s a timely review)
Time to reclaim your Real Self.
Own your breath.
Breath in your Life-force.
I’m excited to be on the other side of my recent dilemma. I’m glad to be in sync with my breath once again. The journey has been uncomfortable and difficult.
Now I feel the increase of Life Force and the possibility of moving forward breathing in and breathing out with focus and intent. That awareness will make this long breathless slog pay dividends.
I’m excited, too, that I will be making an announcement in the coming weeks about ways that you and I can work together to create what I currently refer to as ‘The Art of Creating the Future‘.
I know that I am not alone in having had trauma/drama triggers ignite in the past while. We’ve been through a lot together.
I feel a wonderful creative leap taking place for each of us. It will be (take a deep breath) a joy to share this breakthrough potential with you.
Until then, here’s a bit of homework:
Consider your inner strength.
Consider the simple things that sustain you.
Consider the brilliance of your current fondest dream.
And Breathe.
Take an action and share your findings here in the comments, or in the privacy of your journal.
Share with us, or at least tell yourself, what simple strength have you cultivated? What seeds did you plant last spring? Will you bring the fruits of your labor and a current deep belief in yourself into the weeks ahead?
February 2 is our cross-quarter day, the midpoint of winter, we will be calling our strength parts forward and clearing the path. We will advance. This is the global Vision Quest Year. Every ten years we come to the point in the Creative Energy patterns where we can place our focus on overcoming the challenges and obstacles that jump out of the bushes to scare us.
Let’s explore together the Light on the other side of these dark, and necessary, default patterns …
the challenge holds the solution.
Good to hear from you
~ Iona
Hi Donna: thank you for your latest blog on shallow breathing, and incidents that take your breath away, as in the death of Alice. I’ve read your blog three times. Here are some thoughts that resonated with what you described as your experience and that emerged from my reflections on what you said.
• When I first started meditating in 2013-14 I was amazed at how shallow my breathing was. Over time I’ve also become aware of how sparse my attention was to breath, e.g. how I take breathing for granted…that changed with meditation…awareness grew, I breathed more deeply more often, but shallow breathing and my lack of awareness of it did not entirely diminish. Your blog reminded me that it’s easy to lull myself into a state of “I am awareness personified because I am a good person.” It’s much harder to stay grounded in the present moment, take value judgments about my self-worth out of the picture, and stay focused on my breathing.
• The other awareness that popped in was about the description of how Alice died—in a car accident when the car hit a rock and rolled over. Her death was swift, albeit by some perceptions violent—it was breath-taking, literally, and figuratively.
One of the fears I started addressing when I entered 3 Doors was my fear of death, and more particularly, my fear of violent death. How I define violent death may be something I need to question, but my hope has been that I would die peacefully and quickly in my sleep, that there would be no long, drawn-out journey to the end of life filled with physical and emotional pain.
Was Alice’s death quick, peaceful, and non-violent? She was going to chant with friends–peace. A piece of Earth rolled into her path and stopped her life–quick. Is that form of death violent? To me there is almost a breath-taking beauty in how she passed. Earth snatched her up. Do I dare look at death with joy? And can I be aware of how a bit of my breath gets taken away whenever someone I am close to has there final breath-taking event?
I hope you do not misconstrue what I am saying here. Loss is loss and pain is part of it. She is still with you and will be.
As I write this, I keep wondering, if Bill dies before me, will I be able to view his death with joy as well as sadness? Will I recognize he is still with me only in a different form? In Joy Coach now, I am exploring the issue of death and how it leads to new life; the marriage life makes with death at the moment of conception. Is that moment our union with the Source? Is the moment of death, another opportunity for union with the source?
These are questions that arose for me from your blog post. Thank you.
Hi Lucia ~
Thank you for reading and responding to “I Hold My Breath’. The length and breadth of your notes are worth reading line by line.
I first pause at your statement:
“Your blog reminded me that it’s easy to lull myself into a state of “I am awareness personified because I am a good person.” It’s much harder to stay grounded in the present moment, take value judgments about my self-worth out of the picture, and stay focused on my breathing.”
I imagine we could stay with this one reflection for a good long while.
It is a challenge to remain grounded in the present, in the NOW, and not be throwing opinions, including judgments about our self-worth, into the equation.
Shortly after I met Alice a doctor gave me a copy of the book that began to set me on my conscious path. The book, Psycho-Cybernetics, is a classic in the field of identity and delves into self-worth and true value in a way that provided tools to help me change, albeit, slowly as just before I met Alice I was lured into a sexual assault entrapment…the person who found me afterward; battered and in shock, felt he would be helping me by giving me a large dose of LSD. Facing a violent death and then having my mind expand for 36 hours (the experience led me to Alice and her farm) was mind-altering and life-changing, indeed.
When Alice died suddenly ( I believe it was quick, peaceful, and non-violent) her neck broke when the truck rolled…as you write, “She was going to chant with friends–peace. A piece of Earth rolled into her path and stopped her life–quick.” Yes, it was a breathtaking shock for those of us who loved her.
Addressing the fear of death is empowering.
Napolean Hill’s research led him to create the seven basic fears:
1. Fear of poverty
2. Fear of criticism
3. Fear of ill health
4. Fear of the loss of love
5. Fear of old age
6. Fear of the loss of liberty
7. Fear of death
He notes that thinking will not overcome fear … but action will!
I had to face my fear of death after being violently attacked with the full awareness that while I was being assaulted my soul carried me to safety so that I would be able to endure the immense trauma and loss of trust in life.
Yes. as you write: “Loss is loss and pain is part of it.” Those we love remain in our heart…they live there.
Your wondering about Bill dying before you is a useful exercise. In Buddhism, as you know, much focus is placed upon impermanence and the practice of non-attachment. These are not abstract concepts. Meditating on death and dying, taking a death-bed perspective on life makes it more sacred and valuable in the moment…as we know that any moment could be the taking of the last breath.
Ms. Joy Coach will lead you on. hugs~d
Thank you, Donna, for your response to my posting. Tears are flowing as I reread what you wrote about your own life experiences, tears for all the joy , respect, and courage you exhibit in your life, and tears of gratitude for the sense of validation I feel when I read your further reflections.
Life is deep, rich and breath-taking.
Much love,
Lucia
Yup.
Life is.
Deep.
Rich.
Breathtaking.
Let’s celebrate this day 😉
I love this as each word spoke to me, on this very nite, this very situation I have been stumbling thru.
You have provided me with focus; I can do it.
Hi Karen ~ Oh I am so glad to read your comment. Thank you for posting. We grow together, each bobbing along in our own Lifeboat, looking left, looking right, discerning how our neighbors are making this voyage….shore of birth to the shore of death … one breath atta time.
Focus is true support. Playful focus is the best. Take our Joy Medicine each n every day!!
Wow! Very moving. Thank you, Donna, for always sharing your challenging experiences and growth. So helpful to know we are not alone. Thank you for helping me to navigate my journey.
Much gratitude and love,
Hey A ~ Good to see ya! Thanks for reading the post and popping in with a comment 😉
Navigating our journey is the big Kahuna! Following our North Star and trusting that we have a Destiny and also that we can see ourselves dancing on our life stage with joy and appreciation for all that we’ve been given, all that we’re receiving, and all that we can share.
We grow together! Love and gratitude sent backattacha ‘-)
yes! Do not be afraid of life and of living.
Stay ALIVE! ALIVE! OH! to the last breath 😉
You are a role model!
Hi Donna! I read a quote on January 1 & I took a very deep breath. It said: This is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Make it a good one! I sat & thought on this for along time & I was breathing hard & deep. I thought in 30 days I’m turning 74. Time is running out. Blank pages! I got excited & I thought I want a good year. So first I committed myself to paint a small picture daily for 365 days. Then I started to write my thoughts of the picture.
Then I asked if the gym I attend needed a water aerobics instructor. I was hired!
And I’m planning on returning to Finland for the whole summer. I’m so excited.
I’m taking deep, long cleansing breaths & marching forward. No time to waste!!!!
Love you
Hi Linda ~
This is a fabulous and exciting report!
Your comment will inspire many…as they read your recipe here and as you live it and share it throughout the year. Bravo!!
We often forget that we are in charge of our mindset and that we can shape-shift our thinking hundreds of times a day when necessary.
Your ‘Painting a day’ intention is a noble goal! In 1993 I made that same commitment and as a result, I have a superb series titled ‘365 Days of IMMT.
More about that another time. The point is, that when we commit the Universe hears, listens, directs, and uplifts that initial intention exponentially…it is going to be so wonderful to stand with you and for you as this 74th walk around your Circadian Circle flows forth!!
AH HO!!
Thank you Donna! An amazing journey is ahead for all who will hop on the train & not jump off!
❤️
I love that tradition. Thanks for reminding me.
Hi Lynn ~
I appreciated the Tonglen reminder too.
Your thoughts really got to me Donna! I found I have been holding my breath and hanging on for the ride from reading your blog. I think the world needs to take a breath and exhale. This is leading me toward self care. Thank you for the guidance,
Hi Mare ~ thank you for posting. Yup!! words will touch, move, and inspire others to sit quietly and check in on their own breath’s depth. YES! The world needs to take a breath and exhale… and that begins with each of us doing so and sharing the gift of breath with those around us.
Sometime today we could each find ourselves in a situation where we might simply say, “Let’s take a deep breath….ahhhhhhh.”
As always, l am grateful for your brave self disclosure. Your words insinuate deeply. For me, it will take time to assimilate them. I am very sorry for your loss, proud of your profound effort to heal yourself and others.
Thank you.
Thank you, Lynn.
It took a few months for this post to rise to the surface. We want to be able to stand for something bigger than ourselves and something greater than ourselves. We want to move from being a victim of Life and Mystery so we can fully participate and enjoy this exceptional ever-changing dance. In Buddhist teachings, there is a practice called Tong Glen where we exchange places with someone who is going through a ‘hold-your-breath’ chapter. From our own location, we sit quietly and we courageously breathe in their difficulty. Then we soften our breath and send it out to them as a refreshment. We send the person that we know is having a challenge something that we feel would symbolically give them a lift. It might be an imagined flower or an imagined hug with a kind word. We exchange energy with the one who is struggling. We offer them a symbolic gift. And since energy is energy we actually shape-shift their circumstance.
It’s a lovely present to send out and it does no harm.
This is a well-timed blog share for me Donna. For much of my life I’ve stepped back and observed at different times my own small-animal anxiety. Sometimes I have to laugh. Wouldn’t we all want to be as brave and beautiful as tigers (or dragons, my Chinese sign) in the stories we tell ourselves of our own lives. But, here we are in the Year of the Rabbit. That’s a sign I can relate to. The worried eyes. The shallow breathing. The hands curled slightly inward. Sometimes I’m shocked to see my own micro-expressions of fear staring back at me from mirrors. Then I have to force myself to not cling so fast to this self image. To expand into my larger self. To come up out of the underground tunnels of my amygdala and into the light-filled rooms of my more expansive self. Into the space of the inter-are. To breathe deeply and to realize living is a shared experience. There, I just took breath. Thank you writing about Alice’s death. I know how important she was in your life. You’ve said goodbye to a few dear friends in the past year and a half. It’s eye opening these losses. Death is so rude. Insulting! How are we supposed to carry on? I watch others to learn the answer, or float in the quiet of not knowing yet. What a journey we are on. “How do I get off this ride,” are words that fluttered in the margins of my mind briefly this morning, before I caught myself. The reason isn’t so important. It’s that fear that shows up. Wearisome. It forces me to be the care taker I need. Or at least to keep trying. And to turn towards what is nurturing. Thank you nurturing us with your words.
Oh yes. The Year of the Rabbit. I hadn’t thought of that as the blog wrote itself 😉
The Lakoda tradition shared in Jamie Sam’s Animal Medicine book describes Rabbits as representing fear. It’s helpful to have symbolic language for the tests and even the pop quizzes that show up.
Your writing as usual draws me in and I land here, “The worried eyes. The shallow breathing. The hands curled slightly inward. Sometimes I’m shocked to see my own micro-expressions of fear staring back at me from mirrors. Then I have to force myself to not cling so fast to this self-image. To expand into my larger self. To come up out of the underground tunnels of my amygdala and into the light-filled rooms of my more expansive self. Into the space of the inter-are. To breathe deeply and to realize living is a shared experience. There, I just took breath. ”
Yup. The sense of self. The self-image. Our self-esteem, our confidence … that is what it all comes back to. Who am I BEing? Each time we see that we are not breathing deeply we can begin again. And we can choose to practice coming back hOMe to the center again and again and again … because that’s how we learn to remember that we’re constantly growing into the new now variation of our personal growth and evolution.
It’s so excellent to stand with and for one another as the trail unfolds.
I am right there with you, sister. While we awaited the outcome of Baby Ru’s earthly visit, I went off the rails a bit…found myself, like you, holding my breath….Awaiting the drop of the clunky steel-toed work boot. Could barely take a walk without Joe to hang onto when the wooziness set in. A few episodes of extreme vertigo…and I realized I wasn’t breathing. But thanks be to God…the tools for recovery are built in…we don’t have to go to Walmart for a new set of lungs and a return to mindfulness. But it does take time…and a gentleness with ourselves that allows us to be a truthful, kind, and willing witness. Oh yes…here we go again… lean in…watch, feel…breathe. Lots of love…
Dear Kristy ~ yes. you and your fam and baby Ru went for the most hold-your-breath journey that can be imagined. Episodes of vertigo and being off balance sometimes have known origins. Sometimes we simply fall off the edge of the earth and plummet for a time before the wings swoop in to catch us…and then we take a deep breath.
Earth School.
The inevitable edge places and the fear of losing faith in the falling/failing/f**king up.
Ooooo the ways that Life and the Mystery bring so that we can learn to trust that in truth all things are working together to support evolution.
Wooziness, indeed.
My Takeaway from your richly vulnerable comment is, ” it does take time…and a gentleness with ourselves that allows us to be a truthful, kind, and willing witness. Oh yes…here we go again… lean in…watch, feel…breathe. Lots of love…”
Here’s to leaning in.