Breathe

I teach aikido. I also use aikido to teach mind-body integration, and peace of mind (or more precisely, peace of self). The ideas that follow are woven into all of my aikido lessons. This is the single most important thing I teach. Breathe.

Breath is profoundly important. We can survive without food for months, without water for weeks, but without breath we die within minutes. For our whole life, death is only minutes away, kept at bay by breath. Visualize a video game life counter persitantly ticking down; each breath resets the counter. Breath is life.

It has been emphasized at the center of different practices across different cultures for millennia: meditation, yoga, _all_ of the martial arts, marksmanship, acting, opera, dance, musicianship, and many others.

Breath lies on the border of our somatic nervous system and autonomic nervous system. We can control our breath, and we can also ignore breath and it happens on its own. It is autonomic. Some children hold their breath until passing out. Breathing resumes after consciousness is lost. By comparison, we cannot hold our heartbeat, nor hold our digestion. In fact, most activity in our nervous system is outside of direct control. However, with breath we can _influence_ our entire nervous system, our whole self.

# One Practice

Repeat this cycle of breathing four times: 1. Inhale as you count silently to four. 2. Hold your breath in while counting to four. 3. Exhale slowly, counting to four. 4. Hold your breath out, counting to four.

I suggest counting the four cycles on your fingers, as it is surprisingly difficult to keep track of such a simple nested sequence in short-term memory.

# Commentary on the Practice

This is one example that will work. There are countless other ways to breathe that will also work. This example is convenient for being simple enough to remember, even under pressure (_especially_ under pressure). It is simple enough to explain in words on a page.

It is also complicated enough to require just a little concentration. It will hold your conscious attention just enough to allow breath itself to restore balance and calm to the rest of you.

There is no particular magic in the number four. You could choose counts and cycles of two, three, or five. Smaller numbers are better than large numbers for this breathing practice.

The magic is interrupting our internal feedback loops amid vicious cycles of increasing fear and panic. The other magic is that it is short and provides immediate correction. It restores internal feedback loops from their vicious cycles into self-regulating internal balance. It restores clarity.

# Practice Required

If you only read about it, this breath remains intellectual, symbolic, disembodied. You must actually practice breathing in order for your neurons and muscles, rib cage and diaphragm to learn how to use breath as a tool to restore clarity and balance.

You must put your conscious attention to work on the most mundane, perhaps most boring activity of regulated breathing. The good news is the practice is incredibly short. You can fit it in anywhere in your day. Practice as little as once or twice a week.

Practice.

With regular practice, we can create a tool from our own breath to regulate our mind-body. The benefits are subtle and far-reaching.

A surprising side-effect is how the practice of breathing goes both ways. As we learn to use our conscious attention to regulate reactions to stress, we connect neural pathways between breath and balance. Changes in our breathing draw more attention than before. Changes in breathing signal the onset of imbalance before the internal feedback loops descend into full panic and vicious cycles.

# A Testamonial

I am occasionally asked by new students "Does aikido work? I mean in a real situation?" I have many ways I like to answer that question, none of which address The Dark Alley scenario implicit in the question. Here is one such answer.

One of my students shared a survival story with me years after having attended my aikido classes. She credits aikido practice for her survival.

I often remind classes that The Dark Alley is one of the most common fears but and also the most unlikely risk to our safety. As university students in anywhere in the United States, the biggest risk to safety is automobile accidents. Fear works like that: we fear the unlikely and the dramatic: a plane crash, terrorism, lone gunmen, The Dark Alley. We ignore the commonplace.

She was driving in a blizzard unable to stop slid into an intersection. She saw the oncoming truck approaching too fast itself to stop.

She was completely helpless.

Unable to control her own car.

Unable to stop the oncoming truck.

Under immediate threat to her safety she remembered my teaching and, more importantly, remembered her own practice.

She was _not actually_ helpless. She could still breathe.

With breath she regulated the rising panic inside her. Instead of bracing against the impact, she allowed the increased oxygen to flow through her entire body; to disengage her muscles. She met the collision with her whole body filled with peace and clarity.

Her car was t-boned, completely destroyed. She walked away from that terrible collision with only superficial cuts and bruises.

_I have another survival story from another woman who trained with me. Years later she was struck by a car, did a front roll over the hood and landed on her feet, completely surprised, and also completely unharmed. That story doesn't feature breath so prominently, but does also validate my claim that cars are the most likely threat to our safety._

.

Last night I taught my class the eight direction cut. This morning I recognize a similarity in that practice to the example I offered here about breathing. The order in which the 8 cuts happen in the exercise, we step on these cuts and pivot and shuffle on the next. These details of footwork and spatial direction occupy the analytical brain which allow the motor brain to learn coherent and integrated movement.