by Sarah Bowen
So what happens if we get our metaphorical dolphin on and consciously look at our breathing? A lot.
Healthwise, research shows that slow, focused breaths can lower stress and anxiety, improve coping skills, help people deal with substance abuse, improve our general sense of wellbeing, and boost our self-esteem. Spiritually, conscious breathing can help slow the mind and get us in touch with a more expansive consciousness. In fact, there’s a long lineage of this spiritual practice—mainly out of the Buddhist, Taoist, and Vedic traditions—to connect us to our vital life force, also known as Qi (pronounced chee) or prana.
Breathwork is the gateway drug to all of our Mindful Mondays activities. The following exercise is based on a Zen counting meditation. It’s pleasantly—and positively—addictive.
HOW IT WORKS
1. Silence your phone, computer, or anything around you that might ring, ding, or vibrate.
2. Sit so that your back is straight, allowing for natural movement of the breath within your body. No, you don’t need to invest in a fancy meditation cushion. A chair works just fine.
3. Make your eyes comfortable. This practice can be done with your eyes closed, or with your gaze softly resting on a spot on the floor, a live plant, or a shimmering candle. It’s important to keep your eyes resting, rather than staring sharply, looking around, or otherwise bringing distractions to your mind.
4. Pay attention to your breath. Notice your belly rising and falling; the movements in your chest; and the passing of thoughts as they come and go, like clouds across the sky.
5. Count each breath silently in your mind. At the end of the inhale, count one. At the end of the exhale, count two. Continue until you get to five. If you hit six, notice that your mind has wandered, and gently pull it back to one. If you find yourself wondering what is for dinner, gently pull yourself back to one. If you feel irritated at the noise coming from the room next to you, start again at one. Avoid judging the wandering. It’s totally normal. Our minds are made to think, and they will think—around 50,000 thoughts a day! Just direct yourself to counting one, two, three, four, five.
6. Feel your awareness sharpen. After you’ve been counting for a while, you may hear sounds around you more distinctly, you may feel the temperature (or weather) more precisely. Stay with the breath.
7. Return to your day slowly. When you are done, avoid jumping up quickly to check your texts or social feed. Move as if your body is on half speed, easing into activity slowly and deliberately.
8. Repeat throughout the day. How often? Whenever you need a little peace. Breathing addictions are healthy addictions.
REBELLIOUS VARIATIONS
For math haters: Let’s face it, some people have anxiety around numbers, perhaps from old math or accounting wounds. If counting is giving you anxiety, change to using the word in on the inhale and out on the exhale.
Choose your own number: Try counting to a number that is meaningful to you. For example, try your personal lucky number; 12-steppers, try counting to 12.
Count only exhales: In this variation, do not think a number when inhaling, only when exhaling. Each inhale and exhale combine into a whole breath which is counted.
Abandon counting: Eventually, you may not need numbers as a focus to keep your mind single-pointed. Abandon the numbers, and just watch the breath.
Use a phrase: A phrase, often called a mantra*, assists the mind by providing something for it to land on. My prized combination of words (no surprise) is taken from Star Wars: Rogue One: “I’m one with the Force” (on inhale); “The Force is with me” (on exhale). Of course, there are innumerable traditional spiritual phrases to choose from, including: Om Mani Padme Hum, Pura Vida, Sat-Chit-Ananda, Allahu Akbar, Baruch atta Adonai, Kyrie Eleison, or Om Namah Shiva. Or stick to English and simply repeat: “I am peace.”
Use some tunes: For many people, ambient music can help focus the mind on the breath. In fact, studies show that music can help activate the same parts of the brain as meditation and prayer, helping calm us, increase empathy, and release our brain’s happy drug: dopamine.
The reflex: Schedule a reflexology or massage session. As the therapist’s hands move up your body, focus on breathing in. As they move towards your feet, concentrate on breathing out.
Cat gazing: Hands-down, my favorite breathing meditation is with our cat Deacon. Many mornings, while I am sleeping on my back, he nestles himself on my lower legs. I become aware of his tiny, furry, black body rising and lowering. From this awareness, I tune into his breaths. With me matching my inhales and exhales to his, we become a melded being, resting in our breath. Warning: This exercise can make it difficult to get out of bed.
DISCOVER DEEPLY
• Download The Breathing App.
• Explore Pranayama** breathwork at a yoga studio near you to discover the benefits of the irritation-relieving Victorious Breath or cleansing Skull Shining Breath.
• Read The Mantram Handbook: A Practical Guide to Choosing Your Mantram and Calming Your Mind by Eknath Easwaran.
• Listen to the audiobook Mantras: A Beginner’s Guide to the Power of Sacred Sound by Thomas Ashley-Farrand.
• Take a free class on using mindfulness with animals at trust-technique.com.
• Read Guardians of Being: Spiritual Teachings from Our Dogs and Cats by Eckhart Tolle, illustrated by Patrick McDonnell.
NOTES
* The mantra is an ancient practice, but these days, the word mantra sometimes is used synonymously with motto, so I’d like to make a distinction. A motto is a short phrase that gets to the essence of the beliefs of a person, group, or organization. It often describes a mission, vision, or goal. On the other hand, a mantra is lifted from a spiritual tradition, usually those from the East, including Hinduism and Buddhism. Although mantras are often printed on T-shirts, yoga mats, and coffee mugs, their power is in the vibration of the syllables, which are considered sacred. For example, the seed sound of many mantras, Om, is said to contain the energy of the entire Universe.
** Pranayama is the Sanskrit word used to describe breath work, which combines the words prana for life force and ayama for extension. The practice centers on different poses and breathing techniques, and is included in many yoga classes. If you find yourself drawn to breathing practices, consider looking into Victorious Breath, Skull Shining Breath, or Lion’s Breath, just to name a few.
Talking Tuesday
Tuesday’s child is full of grace.
ATTRIBUTED TO A.E. BRAY
* * *
Yeah, and Tuesday’s child has always irritated me. Who exactly is this child, anyway? I was born on Wednesday. According to A.E. Bray’s classic nursery rhyme, which assigns attributes to children based on their day of birth, that means I’m “full of woe.” Consequently, I’m still a bit resentful of Bray’s lovely grace-filled child. (And possibly Monday’s fair-faced one as well.)*
But wait. It’s time to get a deeper perspective, right? Probing with a quick search for “Tuesday’s Child,” I got a well-needed spiritual slap in the face. A nonprofit named Tuesday’s Children has worked for more than a decade to provide “a lifetime of healing for those whose lives have been forever changed by terrorism and traumatic loss.” Doh!
Moving past my personal resentments and the baggage I’ve assigned to certain words is a constant part of my spiritual journey. Sometimes my list seems insurmountable: grace, blessing, gratitude, prayer, divine, and even sacred. I’m not ready to toss these words into my sacred trash just yet, but sometimes they do linger on the can’s ledge. These words seem to belong to softer, quieter people. My spirituality is often fluorescent orange with a thumping bass beat. Plenty of overtly spiritual words seem paradoxically incongruent.
On Monday, we eased in, working with an action we are used to doing naturally: breathing. Today we kick it up a notch and tackle the B-word: blessing. Some of you may be ready to run for the hills, screaming, “Don’t go there!” Your baggage around this word may be tempting you to yell
, “Screw Tuesday!” and move on. But I promise, we’re going to look at this practice with our slightly-left-of-center minds, and I encourage you to stick around. See what happens.
For example, one day I professed to a friend, “I just don’t get blessings,” my primary reference (beyond meal times and sneezing) being, “Bless me father, for I have sinned.” Somehow blessing equaled sinner. And for what reason was I supposed to ask some dude to bless me? Huh? “I hate the word sin,” I told my friend Francine. “It’s used by many people in such hurtful ways.” But as I began to rant on and on about the word sin and its misuse, my very keen friend cut me off with, “Um, Sarah, what the hell do you think ‘May the Force be with you’ is?”
Curses! Foiled again!
WEEK 1: MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU
I realized I’ve had a long history of doing blessings. Odd ones, but blessings nonetheless.
Many afternoons during elementary school, my mother would yell “SARAH!” from the kitchen upon opening my school lunchbox and finding yet another dead chipmunk. It made little sense to my mother but made complete sense to me. Raised as a preacher’s kid, I frequently visited funeral homes with my father. So I deduced that these animals needed burial in the bushes in our front yard. Unfortunately, at that age, I lacked the language to explain these actions convincingly, so I earned frequent lectures on germs. Unhindered, my connection with these animals remained, and I buried the animals gently with a small service ending with “May the Force be with you, chipmunk.”
Of course, lurking neighbors would inform me: “Those are just animals. These things happen. They should learn to stay out of the road.” And as I got older and questioned the ways in which I saw animals being mistreated, I was offered rationalizations such as: “God made us dominion over the animals. They are here for our use.” Yikes. Folding my arms across my chest, I created a force field around myself. Increasingly feeling unconnected to those around me, I tried to hide what I felt. I became embarrassed by both burials and blessings.
Then I met the man who would become my husband. As we were driving one day, he smacked his right hand over his heart. Now, he’s a bit older than I am, so I thought, “My God, he’s having a heart attack. This relationship is never going to work.” Nervously, I asked him, “Are you okay?” To which he replied, “I’m sending gratitude to Spirit for the life of that animal.” I looked out the window, realizing excitedly, he means that dead animal! That roadkill! And I knew I had found my soul mate.
Of course, I promptly adopted this practice. And we became a couple of driving heart-smackers. Then on one drive, after I smacked my right hand over my heart, my husband grinned, looked at me, and said, “Um, Sarah? That was a tire.” I blushed a bit in embarrassment, and then implored, “Um, Sean? Yeah, I know. That was a blessing for the Earth, and the trash that covers her.” And we both kinda giggled.
But when I look at this in hindsight, there is a profound lesson about blessing here. It affirms that our words of compassion do not have to be limited to clergy, religious institutions, or any specific tradition. Blessing does not require a particular ritual, nor does it have to occur only for a planned event. It can be done anywhere, by anyone. (May the odds be ever in your favor!)
In his (incredibly thorough) book Blessing: The Art and the Practice, American spiritual philosopher and self-described practical mystic David Spangler defines blessing as tapping into one’s inner spirit to create “a good deed on steroids.” Then he explains, “In practicing the art of blessing, we are really practicing being connected…. Surely a blessing is also a flow of life force between ourselves and others or between ourselves and the sacred. It’s an act of connection. It restores through love a circulation of spirit among us that may have become blocked, forgotten, or overlooked. It reconnects us to the community of creation.”
If you find yourself still struggling with the concept of blessing, or the word itself, try out these related ideas: being grateful, giving thanks, dedicating, saying grace, giving peace, or being kind. In many ways, the practice is about being rather than doing. You’ll begin to see moments in your day in which you can offer a silent, verbal, or physical blessing, or to say words for the hope of healing our planet or for the life of that animal on the side of the road.
The practice can take myriad forms and be done in innumerable ways, which makes it hard to define the steps. Instead, I’m offering some thought-starters, followed by suggestions from some of my ingenious friends.
HOW IT WORKS
1. Start your day by tuning in to the flow of life force within yourself. Perhaps repeat Monday’s breathing practices to get your flow going.
2. With breakfast (even if it’s just coffee), try a blessing. Consider saying one each time you eat today. Here’s an easy but powerful blessing from author, environmentalist, and animal rights activist John Robbins:
May all be fed.
May all be healed.
May all be loved.
3. While kicking your day into gear, think about what you are grateful for. Create your own blessings, using the starter “May.”
4. Throughout the day, expand beyond yourself. For each person you pass who looks like they are having a hard day, repeat silently: May you find peace.
5. Continue looking for moments of blessing. Say Gesundheit when someone sneezes. Offer a May the Force be with you! to someone.
6. End your day with a blessing. Recently, while staying at a New York City hotel, I noticed that my phone had a button on it to “Hear a bedtime story.” I pushed the button. After a short, guided meditation played through the phone, I heard the following blessing: “No matter what happens, tomorrow will be epic if I want it to be.” Wise words to head to sleep by, indeed.
REBELLIOUS VARIATIONS
Positive vibes: Shamanic Reiki practitioner Laura Klein offers, “I send this silent thought out to others, ‘May the universe conspire to bring you peace and joy.’”
Presence moment: Human rights activist Barbara Becker stops at noon each day when her neighborhood’s church bell rings: “I stop whatever I’m doing and go to the window for a moment of presence.”
In the car: For the past three years, interfaith minister Donna Knutson has blessed all the cars that come towards her: “It’s a practice that expands the surrounding area all at once so that I take in a large space visually all at one time. I started the practice because we can’t ‘see’ who is coming towards us in metal and steel, so this was a barrier I wanted to transcend.”
For those in trouble: Massage therapist Darby Mackenzie Line says a blessing each time she passes an accident or sees an ambulance speeding by with lights and siren on, silently offering, “May all beings be safe and free from pain and suffering” while sending light to whoever is involved. She asserts, “More than once I’ve felt ‘Thank you’ coming back.”
Roadkill remembrances: Animal advocate and lifelong student Leann Lydon divulged, “Every time I see an animal killed in the road, I offer up a brief prayer that it died without suffering and that its spirit made it safely home.”
For those grieving: Rev. Nicole Losie, chaplain for the Toledo Fire and Rescue Department, noted, “I bless all involved in every funeral procession I see. I turn off the music, interrupt any conversation I’m having, stop what I’m doing (except the driving) and silently pray for the safe return of deceased to Spirit or whatever comes next for the person, his/her loved ones, all involved in the procession, all involved in any care required while the person was still alive and after death, everyone I can think of. Then I go back to the music/audiobook/conversation, whatever. I’ve done this for probably 15 or so years. It just happened one time; I felt compelled, and then it became a practice.”
DISCOVER DEEPLY
• Light a virtual blessing candle for a friend in need of support at gratefulness.org/light-a-candle.
• Read Blessing: The Art and the Practice by David Spangler.
• Read 99 Blessings: An Invitation to Life by Brother David S
teindl-Rast.
• Get involved with Blessings in a Backpack to help elementary school children across America who might otherwise go hungry. See blessingsinabackpack.org for ways to help.
NOTES
* Although for some reason I always assumed A.E. Bray was a man, A.E. stands for Anna Eliza. It’s not clear if Anna Eliza, who was born in 1790, wrote the nursery rhyme or merely was the first person to record it (in Traditions of Devonshire). Apparently, there was a long tradition of foretelling the fate of children based on birth days. Of course, the exact future of the child differs according to which version of the rhyme you read.
Wonder-filled Wednesday
Uh-oh! Guess what day it is??
Guess what day it is! Huh, anybody?
Julie! Hey, guess what day it is??
Ah, come on, I know you can hear me.
Mike Mike Mike Mike Mike
CALEB THE CAMEL
* * *
It’s hump day, of course. The middle of our modern workweek. Popularized in the 1960s, the term hump day gained an astonishing comeback in 2013 with insurance company Geico’s Caleb the Camel ads. Wednesday has since become so synonymous with camels, it’s likely to lose its original association with the Old English Wōdnesdæg, the day of the chief god of Norse mythology: Odin (Wōden). While our modern Caleb is known for his obnoxiousness, old Odin was associated with seemingly contradictory traits: wisdom, war, poetry, healing, ecstasy, and magic.
Magic is an underutilized concept in our modern scientific world, isn’t it? In our quest to discover how everything works, we’re skeptical of things we cannot explain or prove. We’re always weaving from here to there, from this seemingly important task to that ostensibly critical task. But how often do we stop to notice brilliance in our midst, to see the wonder around us? To be amazed. To be awed. To be.
There is a sacred connection that underlies everything. Undeniably, the first step in getting beyond our own demanding egos is to see this connection. When we look at splendid things—the rainbow after a storm, the soaring mountains of the Himalaya, a newborn kitten—awe is instantly present. But the challenge is seeing the amazing in everything—in the meager things, the supposedly mundane, the hard times, the sad times, the painful times. As writer and philosopher G.K. Chesterton noted, “It is one thing to be amazed at a gorgon or a griffin, creatures which do not exist; but it is quite another and much higher thing to be amazed at a rhinoceros or a giraffe, creatures which do exist and look as if they don’t.”