Why Practice Breathing?

WHY PRACTICE BREATHING?

Why should I practice breathing? The body breathes on its own. I have a busy life. Why should I add this to my list of things to do? … and, by the way, what is pranayama?

Pranayama is a Sanskrit word meaning to restrain, build and channel (yama) the life force (prana). In the 8 limbed path of yoga, pranayama is the 4^th, following the practice of asana, the poses.

I fell in love with pranayama during a yoga teaching training course. At first I didn’t understand the value of a practice focused solely on breathing, assuming that I got this while practicing asana and while watching the breath during meditation. Little did I know that deliberate, conscious breathwork would all me to undo layers of unconscious tension, helping me to relax and open in a profoundly new way.

It is difficult, actually impossible, to separate the body, mind and breath. In the Heart of Yoga, Desikachar explains that the breath is the first to register change, followed by the the body, and lastly, the mind. When we identify with the mind and the process of thinking, we are orienting and looking for answers in the wrong place. As the Zen Buddhists say, you can not work on the mind from the level of mind. You need to go more deeply, to the roots. Learning to watch and be with the breathing process is a profoundly effective tool to see the deeper aspects of your person, and of your being.

Breathing is both involuntary and voluntary: the body breathes on its own, and it is also possible to consciously alter the breath. The involuntary, autonomic, part of the nervous system is divided into the sympathetic and parasympathetic branches. The sympathetic branch works in sympathy with the reaction process: when there is fear, the breath will quicken, the heart rate will speed up, and blood will be sent to the muscles in preparation for fighting or flighting. Many of us live in this state.

A common antidote to this state, whether in or out of yoga class, is to “take a deep breath”. Why? Deep breathing is an effect of the parasympathetic nervous system. This pattern supports relaxation, and works counter to the reactionary patterns: the heart rate slows, the breath deepens, and vital energies are directed towards healing, digestion, and restoration. The focus moves towards evolution rather than fear.

Breathing in a deep and full and natural way invites the entire system to slow and calm. Forcing big breaths does not. Trying to make the body take a deep breath – especially in the midst of crisis – is only adding more tension into the system, adding fuel to the fire. So the key is to practice breathing, when you are in a conscious and relaxed state.

When we practice we work with effort both masculine and willful, and feminine and receptive. Practically, this means we deliberately engage the muscles that support breathing: we learn to use the abdominals to deepen the exhale, discover the movement of the diaphragm and the corresponding expansion through the abdominal activity, and stretch open the muscles of the chest. Throughout this work, we are aware of the quality of effort, being mindful of any strain or force. We work to find the effortless effort of which the Taoists speak. We question what it means to relax and soften into an area, to allow rather than force a deep breath. We open to receive the breath, to be inspired. The heart of breathwork is about being rather than doing. It is about being present to the flow of breath, experiencing increasingly subtle sensations and rediscovering the natural rhythm of a fully breathing body. This full breath feeds the cells and quiets the system, which in turn invites more deep breathing: relaxation begets relaxation. Eventually fuller breath and a slower heartrate become the “new normal” and this relaxed state is more accessible during stress or crisis.

So this is why we practice: to find ourselves outside of patterns of stress and effort. We practice to discover a sense of ease and fullness previously unseen. We practice bringing this deeper sense of self to the surface of our daily living.

On Balance...

A friend of mine just had her first baby and emailed that she is trying to find the balance between taking care of herself, the dog, and the new baby. My first thought was, “welcome to the club, this will be happening for years”, and secondly, I thought about yoga.

All yoga poses are dynamic and in constant motion. There is no way to hold a body still. Even if we hold our breath and stop the flow in and out of the nose or mouth (not recommended), the heart continues to pump and blood continues to flow. This movement of internal respiration is constantly bringing fresh oxygen and to the cells, and removing toxins. If this process stops the body will die.

When we “hold” a pose, we are not holding the body, but holding attention on all of the different moving parts of the body and breath. B.K.S Iyengar defined concentration as the process of holding attention on one thing, and meditation as the process of holding attention on all things. Hatha yoga offers the opportunity to focus the mind, and strengthen the power of this focus.

Lately I’ve been interested in the process of balancing different foci. Lets take the downward facing dog, and look at it in terms of height, width and depth. When we attend to rooting the hands into the earth and reaching the tail up to the sky, we are stretching the spine and working on height. Now lets focus on the second part of the yogic 3 part breath, and breath into the side of the rib cage, inviting the body to expand laterally and stretching the width of the body. Pressing the shoulder blades into the heart and lifting up the forearms deepens the depth of the body.

If we simply try to achieve what was just mentioned, we will end up looking like a Saturday Night Live skit. It is not about trying to achieve each one of these to the exclusion of everything else. It is about being aware –in this case – of the body as existing in three dimensions. That awareness alone can wake up worlds. Next we notice where the focus habitually goes, and acknowledge that we are stretching the focus. Then we begin to play, first playing with length and seeing what is here, while also keeping an eye on the other two dimensions. This process continues, as we dance between these three foci. The concentration is stretched, until an awareness of the body as a whole becomes known. We train the mind, and then go beyond mind, to a state of witnessing what is without being identified with it. This is what Mr. Iyengar means when he says that focusing on all points is meditation. From this state of wholeness, the specifics are known, but there is no effort to remember to know them. We move to a state of ease and knowing.

This state also, can not be held on to. If we get excited that we “got it” and try to hold on, it will go away. What we must do is be present in the state, and understand that it will change.

Non-Violence and Acceptance

What does it mean to treat oneself with nonviolence, or to adapt an attitude of nonviolence? The yogic texts speak of the importance of this principle of ahimsa: it is the first of the 5 yamas, or behaviors of restraint necessary for yogic study and living. I find that most students think of violence in terms of violent crime, and will initially assume that they are fine in this area. Let’s look more closely.

We often come to class wanting to feel better, wanting to look better, wanting to be better. We come in wanting to be opened and expanded; this will be a me that I can more easily love and unconditionally accept.. let me just stretch a relax a bit first. The only problem with this outlook, is that it neglects to acknowledge what is here, right now. We must start with where and who we are. We must start with treating ourselves as we would treat someone we love: by listening and accepting, and letting ourselves be our imperfect and natural self.

Acting nonviolently means that we begin a yoga pose by turning the senses inward: by carefully looking, feeling, and listening. We begin by gaining more awareness of the situation, rather than by immediately looking for a solution. A beginners mind makes no assumptions. A beginners mind approaches a pose as if it is the very first time. Instead of applying judgements and expectations onto the body, we will instead look to see how the body is in this moment. Hatha yoga offers a wonderful opportunity to witness the subtle ways we try to force ourselves to be who and what we are not.

The amazing aspect of a nonviolent attitude towards the self is that you never know what will happen. Some days you will work less deeply than usual, and then there will be the day when the body will all of a sudden open more that you ever thought possible. Our ideas about what the body can do are just ideas: the reality of the moment is larger and infinitely more satisfying.

Amrit Desai, the founder of Kripalu Yoga, used to talk about what he called the “Three A’s”: awareness, acceptance, adjustment. What you will find as you work with this map is that the adjustment happens on its own: it is not rooted in our ideas of ourselves, which are inherently limited. Working like this makes practice easier and injury free, but also makes the yogic path a constant journey of exploration. Enjoy, and Namaste!