Breathwork Epiphanies- Lessons from Somatic Breathwork Practice

Peeking petite bud of a watermelon

Let Us Revel in the Lessons of Wonder

Hello All,

I hope that everyone is finding balance as the days continue to grow longer. Over the last month I have been spending a lot of time in the yard tending to my outdoor space. I moved late last summer, and the yard was a blank canvas of dirt tarping deep, red, clay soil. As a single mama, looking out at this large canvas has been both daunting and has filled me with wonder of what could be. The wonder has been a potent fuel in starting the large task at hand. 

There are many skills that I feel confident and competent around; my clinical practice, tending to relationships, being a present parent, cooking, etc. AND being a steward to this landscape called in the invitation for a beginner's mind. This experience has been an opening to explore wonder. What comes to mind for you when you think of the word wonder? Really, stop and take a moment to define that for yourself. When that question has been posed to others in my life over that last month some of the responses I have received include: “the feeling of surprise,” “open eyes,” “bewilderment,” “both a noun and a verb,” “to dream, explore, and ask,” and “open to awe.”  Your response may be something completely different, which I would love to hear about in the comments. As you can see, wonder is not just one thing; it is a whole ecosystem of curiosity, creativity, openness, presence and uncertainty. 

Wonder can revive the ordinary, open us up to new insights, or take something that has been hidden and reveal it. Wonder is also a crucial muscle that can become atrophied or strengthened. In our modern world, and as adults, there are so many things that can extinguish wonder. Being stuck in auto pilot, disconnection from nature, moving with haste through our days, perceiving we have all the answers at our fingertips with technology, and wanting or thinking that we need certainty. This begs the question: what do we lose when this wonder muscle atrophies? 

Without tending to the “wonder muscle” the known takes over and the unknown becomes uncomfortable and sometimes even threatening. When we live this way the unknown can activate fight, flight, or freeze in our amygdala. Uncertainty stops becoming a journey of discovery and instead something that we need to avoid.  We can miss out on the wonders that happen around us each day. It can also stunt access to more evolved and free versions of ourselves.  When reflecting on my outdoor space without wonder the daunting feeling would have left me completely paralyzed and unable to start. Sitting down to write this, I had a loose idea of what I would reflect on, and wonder helped fill the page. What is to come? What can be created? What will fill the space if I am open and curious to allow for uncertainty in my internal and external landscapes? 

In this process of tending to the yard, I have been a wonder apprentice. My mother has gracefully been a teacher of all things gardening. My two-year-old has been a teacher to wonder; everything we do inspires awe. The flagstone being lifted to reveal a busy colony of ants, the cool feel of dense clay soil, the glee in finding how a shovel can add so much depth to life. This has led to a reckoning with the value of certainty. There have been small and big challenges in my life over the last 5 years where I have yearned for certainty. In the aftermath of an accident that left me on crutches for 8 months, I was in the habit of chasing for answers. There are many areas of life, especially in the current political climate, that I thirst for certainty. Which all make sense and I can't help to think of how my shaped human habits have atrophied wonder. How easy it is to miss the towering pine trees on each corner, at the end of the street, that resemble guardians. The barn owl feather at the periphery of the park. The excitement watching a bud turn into a vegetable, holding astonishment about how much patience the stalk embodies in her veins. This journey of tending to my yard and strengthening my wonder muscle has led to rediscovering reverence for life, for mystery, for the intimacy that we can connect with when slowing down. Wonder has allowed me to intentionally connect with the animate and truly cherish things that auto pilot has pushed out of sight and out of mind. 

I am currently taking part in a 7-month teacher certification training for Morning Altars and one of our timely assignments over the last month was to create a “Cherish Altar.” The etymology of the word cherish is to “tend to something that we love, as something beloved.” So, when we are cherishing something, we are holding it with care, nourishing that thing, and our relationship to it. When we cherish something there is an active responsibility, a responsibility of love. When we connect with wonder, we are better able to be in relationship with that which we cherish. 

My Cherish Altar for Millie

My Cherish Altar was for my dog Millie, who is always at my heels. In the busyness of life being a single mom to a 2-year-old, Millie does not always receive the relational nourishment that she deserves. Connecting with wonder, creating an altar, and setting intentions to lift up this connection has been special to me and Millie. It has been so influential that in the next Place for the Space Holders we will be creating individual Cherish Altars. We will breathe intention into a nourishing relationship to that in which we cherish. I would love for you to join me in this practice. 

I hope that this post inspired some wonder, connection, and curiosity. I would love to hear about your connection to wonder in the blog comment section. Be well friends. Hope to meet you in the next month with breathwork epiphanies.

With Love,

Renee 

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