Let Yourself Be Breathed

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the breath.

Not necessarily breathwork. Not using the breath to do something or change something or get ourselves into a better state.

Just the breath itself.

The fact that, through all of it, we are being breathed.

Some moments give us room to reflect, make meaning, make choices, shift perspective.

And some moments really don’t.

Sometimes the most available thing is simply to soften a little. To notice where we’re bracing. To unclench. To allow a little more breath in.

Maybe that, in its simplest form, is nervous system regulation.

Not always becoming calm.

Not making the hard thing go away.

Just becoming a little less defended against the moment we’re already in.

Softening instead of tightening.

Opening instead of resisting.

Making room for what is here.

And underneath all of it—the breath.

The same breath moving through grief and excitement. Through ordinary Tuesdays and enormous transitions. Through the moments we want to hold onto and the ones we would happily skip.

How weird this humanness is.

Can we make room for that, too?

Learning From Each Other

I’ve been thinking about this in my own life as I move through some big transitions.

My daughter Flora’s move to UGA has gone surprisingly well. There was so much anticipation around this transition, and I’m deeply grateful for how it has unfolded.

I’m also especially grateful for all the parents who came before me in this particular season of letting go.

I’ve had the privilege of sitting with people through college drop-offs, changing relationships with their kids, empty nests, pride, grief, freedom, worry—and all the strange combinations of those things.

Turns out I was learning from them, too.

That’s one of the beautiful things about being a therapist that I don’t think we talk about enough. Of course, therapy exists for the client. But being present with so many people as they move through the seasons of their lives inevitably teaches us something about being human, too.

We are all moving through something.

Beginning something. Ending something. Holding on. Letting go. Anticipating. Grieving. Celebrating. Healing.

And breathing through all of it.

Maybe the practice isn’t always figuring out what it means.

Maybe sometimes the practice is simply making enough room to experience what is already here.

A Simple Grounding Practice: Let Yourself Be Breathed

For a minute, don’t try to take a deep breath.

Instead, notice that breathing is already happening.

Feel the inhale arrive without asking it to be bigger.

Notice the exhale leave without pushing it away.

Then find one place in your body that might be willing to soften by 5%.

Your jaw.

Your shoulders.

Your belly.

Your hands.

The space around your heart.

You don’t have to relax completely.

You don’t have to feel better.

Just soften enough to allow a little more breath in.

And notice:

You are still here.

You are still breathing.

Life is still moving through you.

Make room for all of it.