The Exhale...

Class: 9:30-10:30am, "Lotus Hour", Deborah.

This month at the Lotus is all about Pranayama. The breath. The breath--often forgotten--which is in fact the foundation, not just of the practice, but of one's entire life. And Deborah, wanted to talk about the exhale. Deborah has a great accent (New Zealand?) so she can talk about just about anything and make it sound interesting...

The exhale is an interesting subject for me. The breath itself, but I suppose the exhale in particular is a source of great curiosity and consternation for me. When I was young I spent a short period of time (unnecessarily) using an inahaler for my allergies, as I would often spend days stuck in a sort of no-man's-land of breath, unable to fully inhale or exhale, and so forced to take these deep sucking gulps of air--giant sigh-like breaths--which tended to be of mild to great concern to those around me. A highschool boyfriend, in particular, was convinced I was perpetually frustrated with him because of all that sighing.

The inhaler did little to help, though it did give me a kind of fun light-headedness, and I rather enjoyed the sickly-sweet pumped chemical taste. I discontinued it after not too long and soon thereafter took up smoking, which cured me of this little breathing hiccup for the duration. However, in 2002 I quit the nicotine, and sure enough, the voluminous sighs returned. These days, though I still sometimes blame them on allergies, I know that this variation in my breath is the result of stress, fear or worry. As my practice grows, as my training as an actor continues, as my life evolves, it becomes more and more clear to me that I HOLD MY BREATH. A lot. Not only do I hold my breath, I tend to breath primarily from my upper chest, and my exhales are just wimpy little stepchildren compared to my inhalations.

So, the exhale is a weighty subject for me. Mainly because sometimes I feel that I literally do not know how to exhale. This is not a great thing, seeing as how the exhale is the source of emptiness and of letting go. The exhale, physiologically, is the thing which creates the space in your body for the inhale to come. The exhale drains the water from the pool so that the inhale might come in and fill it back up again. The exhale is the tiny little death of the breath and the inhale, the rebirth. The exhale is spaciousness and silence and emptiness and the inhale is, literally, inspiration.

Do you see where I'm going with this? If the exhale is short and shallow and...difficult...do you see the effect it might have? A clogging up of inspiration? A holding on. A refusal to let go. A building up and building up, building up so much that eventually the only possible release must come in the form of something like...

A Giant Sigh?

(Sigh). So. I've got a lot to learn about the exhale. And I'm trying. It seems that every day lately I am trying--placing my own hand on my own belly and gently, gently reminding myself to let go, to breathe out, noticing when the breath starts to get high and tight in my chest, reminding myself that there is so much more room in my body, that my instrument of breath stretches from the very bottom of my pelvis all the way up through my skull, just reminding and reminding, gently gently.

I can't say that there has yet been any miracle transformation--I still feel at times that the art of breathing is beyond my clumsiness, but I continue to just gently notice and adjust and notice and adjust, and in small steps I feel my body learning--ever so slowly--just quietly climbing in to the wheelhouse of my breath, and sometimes, like today, the body and the breath become one being--just briefly--and it all makes just a little bit more sense.

Inhale.
Exhale.

Contract.
Release.

Inhale.
Exhale.

Inspiration,
and Letting Go.

(and one great big sigh...)