A deeper study of the breath: the Breath as Guide 

The following article is an exploration of the effect of the yogic breath across ancient text, modern science and personal experiences (as a yoga practitioner, teacher and through students’ reflections.

“Resistance to breathing is resistance to change. Resistance to change is resistance to living. Resistance to living is a kind of walking dead. Inhale deeply, friend; inhale.  Your breathing practices and emotional healing will lead you to virtuous behaviour and a life of non-grasping and joy. The heart, unencumbered by grief and resentment, will blossom from merely an emotional heart into a spiritual heart.”[1]

 

1.         Introduction

It is the first thing we do when we are born and it is the last thing we do before we leave our physical body and die: breathing. We breathe IN for the first time when we are born and we breathe OUT for the last time when we die. By our mere birth, breath is being borne. And our death is marked by the moment our breath ceases to be. In between these two moments, our breath never leaves us; it is our constant companion. It is ever present yet never the same. Breath is life. It sustains us to the point that, without it, we cannot live. It brings vital oxygen and disposes of unwanted carbon dioxide. Yet, it is much more than that. It transports us to the present moment, which is the only place in time where unity between mind, body and spirit can be experienced. The breath is the bridge that enables us to experience the natural connection between body, mind and spirit.

The fact that breathing is a most powerful tool to connect to the present moment is not a recent discovery.[2] On the contrary, ancient cultures have long recognized that breath awareness anchors us to the ‘here and now’ and teach us of the value of gaining a profound understanding and experience of the breath in order to perceive the union of body, mind and spirit. Perceiving this union can entirely transform the way in which we view ourselves and the world around us. It is this that has motivated people from all over the world, century after century, to develop a breathing practice.

To fully experience its transformative power though, we need to be borne to the breath; we need to wake up to its wisdom. Only dedicated practice will allow for this awakening. A dedicated practice, described by Patañjali[3] as an intense practice in a spirit of detachment, requires a keen interest to explore the breath, coupled with the sustained effort to attempt to bring our presence to our breath. And as simple as this practice may seem, few of us are curious enough[e1] . And, for those of us who are, not many succeed in focussing the mind sufficiently to be attentive to our breath for more than a few seconds.

When we do manage to bring our awareness to the breath at different moments during our day, we experience that the way in which we breathe varies dependent on where we are at in terms of our body, mind (in terms of our thoughts and emotional state) and spirit (our sense of being one with all). When we increase our level of physical activity, our breath naturally accelerates and becomes more profound, while when we are angry, our breath also quickens but becomes more superficial and irregular. And, when we are deeply at peace, our breath moves in and out in a slow and even pattern. Bringing attention to our breath then allows us to connect to what is in a given moment, whether on the physical, mental-emotional or spiritual plane.

This part of the memoire delves particularly into the link between the breath and our emotional state of mind. Van Den Berk underscores the important relationship that exists between emotional stress and tension, and the way in which we breathe.[4] Put differently, our breath and our emotions are interrelated. Even though we speak of them as two things; they are in fact one and the same.[5]

The Hatha yoga tradition views the body as a learning tool to more fully live the spiritual realm of our lives. Using the practice of Hatha yoga, this memoire sets out to better understand how it is that the yogic breath can tune our awareness to our inner state of mind, a realm of consciousness that is beyond thoughts, emotions and one that is inherently still and peaceful. 

In searching for a first description of the yogic breath, I did not find it in the Hatha Yoga Pradipika or other foundational texts to yoga. I did, however, come across such in the 1904 text ‘The Hindu-Yogi Science of Breath’, written by Yogi Ramacharaka. Having first described how one can breathe with the upper chest alone, with the belly alone and with the ribs alone, he then describes the ‘yogi’ complete breath:

“Yogi complete breath includes all the good points of High Breathing, Mid Breathing and Low Breathing, with the objectionable feature of each eliminated. It brings into play the entire respiratory apparatus, every part of the lungs, every air-cell, every respiratory muscle. The entire respiratory organism responds to this method of breathing, and the maximum amount of benefit is derived from the minimum expenditure of energy. The chest cavity is increased to its normal limits in all directions and every part of the machinery performs its natural work and functions.”[6]

A serious exploration of the yogic breath in all its dimensions would require a study of anatomy, chemistry, physiology, and physics and, given the nature of my particular curiosity about the link between the breath and our inner state of mind, of psychology as well. This memoire does not set out to do so. Instead, it will explore key neurological and philosophical aspects of the breath, as well as the use of a yogic breath-centered yoga practice in terms of its ability to reveal and change our inner state of mind, enabling us to transform and go beyond the emotional and mental turmoil that so often veils us from ‘seeing things for what they are’ without the mental projections that are generally derived from fears, judgements or expectations.

The guiding question of this part of the memoire then is ‘what is the effect of yogic breath-centered yoga practices on consciousness of, and influence on, inner state of mind?’ I aim to shed light on this question from five different angles; the first one being my own personal experience; the second a study of references the breath in ancient texts including the Upanishads and Patañjali’s Yoga Sutras; and the third a study of Western and scientific literature of the link between breath, emotional healing and spiritual growth. These three perspectives together will inform the approach to the fourth and fifth angle, which is comprised of the effect of yogic breathing as part of a yoga practice on immigrant women, most of them living in most difficult circumstances and incapable of reading and writing, as well as my reflections on teaching this yoga practice.

The exploration that you are about to read is based on the understanding borne out of lived experience that the practice of yoga can unveil the breath as a barometer[7] of inner-tensions, subsequently enabling us to decrease them so as to be better positioned to make the countless smaller and bigger decisions in response to 1000 and 1 choices we are presented with on a daily basis. A second experience upon which this part of the memoire is based is that of the breath as an intimate connection with the divine source. Etymologically, this association between breath and spirit is recognized in many ancient languages, with spiritis coming from an old Latin word meaning ‘to breathe’, as well as ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’.[8]

It may not come as a surprise that the two experiences described above are, in my humble opinion, strongly linked. One can only perceive of our life as a spiritual one if we are present to the present moment, unencumbered by inner tensions secondary to an incessant flow of thoughts and layers of repressed emotions. Emotions can only be transformed, and thoughts transcended, in the present moment. Emotions stop having their grip on us if we are truly able to feel them and thoughts lose their power over us if we stop identifying with them. And so, my curiosity in the yogic breath was and is very much fuelled by the experience that it brings me to the here and now; the only place where I can become a witness to my thoughts and experience my emotions in their purest form thereby allowing them to be transformed, to next be able to perceive of my higher Self – that which is ever-present and unchangeable and for-ever anchored in the here and now.[e3]  

Having given you a snap shot of why I choose to dedicate this piece of writing to the yogic breath, I will now gently ease you into the transformative process that preceded this exploration.

 

2.         Personal motivation for studying the breath

Yoga came into my life in early 2000. It was not our civilization’s entry into the second millennium that rocked my world, but the discovery of yoga. After a rather disheartening experience of a Hatha yoga class, for which I clearly was – as described earlier in part I -  not ready, the fast pace of a three-weekly Ashtanga practice allowed me to perceive a sensation of flow as never experienced before. Breath was taught as being Ujjāyi [9] in its traditional nasal form. Moments of ‘être à l’écoute’- as I later learned in Hatha yoga and which have become invaluable to me - were rare to non-existent. It was the practice of yoga that invited me into the world of breath; even though it took me more than ten years of practice to finally wake up to its mystery, beyond that of survival, as a transformative power.

It was not long after starting to practice yoga regularly, in late October 2000, that I began to notice a blockage in my belly, experienced as an inability to bring my breath down low into my belly during my day-to-day life. This created a perpetual sense of anxiety and stress. Not only did I experience distress at the physical, but also at the mental and emotional level – and as I learned to understand later, at the spiritual level. It was as if I was not present; I knew I was in a certain place and time, and that I moved around with this body of mine, yet it felt like I was being cocooned from the world around me. It prevented me from being in the moment and from enjoying it and, particularly relevant in the context of this exploration, from sensing, intuiting, what direction to go, what decision - whether big or small – was the right one for me to take.

I searched high and low as to why the most natural thing, breathing, had become so unnatural to me. We were no longer one; something had come between. I psycho-analyzed myself to bits and consulted others to do some more. As that year my relationship had come to an end, my dear grandmother had passed away, and I had gone through a medical process of possibly being diagnosed with a serious pancreatic disorder, possibly even cancer, there was enough material for psycho-analysis.

In retrospect, I realized that I looked for a solution to this alienating experience by intellectualizing over causal factors, rather than by simply just being one with it. At that time, I did not perceive that it may be possible to heal the self by healing the breath; by simply breathing consciously and deeply. And, when one does not know what one does not know[10], there is little one can do.

Not unsurprisingly, an answer to my question “why I had lost the ability to breathe normally?” did not come. This was, as Paulo Freire[11] beautifully coined it, impossible, as “one does not get there by starting there, one gets there by starting here.” In other words, I was looking for answers in the wrong place: I was searching my mind for something that was expressing itself by way of the breath. The answer lay, as I learned ten years later, in letting the breath become my guide, simply through developing greater awareness of its powerful existence and by relearning consciously how to breathe fully and deeply. 

So, for the first ten years of the new millennium, my breath weaved its erratic pattern throughout my day-to-day life. It was the convergence of three seemingly unrelated events, with the latter two occurring in 2011 that finally brought awareness of the fact that I had simply not paid enough – if any - attention to my breath.

What were these events? First, it took letting go of my Ashtanga practice and being submerged in Hatha Yoga for three years to come to the simple, but oh so powerful realization that I had lost the art of breathing normally; that I automatically began to breathe Ujjāyi when practicing yoga, and that off the yoga mat, my breath, with few exceptions, had become nasal and controlled, particularly my exhale. In addition, even though I had now learned to bring my breath down into my belly, my inhale seemed to stagnate at the level of my diaphragm, limiting it to filling only my belly, rather than extending to my middle and upper thorax as well. The breath that I had learned and that should render one victorious[12], had in fact achieved quite the opposite, leaving me feeling increasingly less vital.

The second event was receiving the teaching on complete breathing, from a dear friend during the first half of 2011. I remember her teaching me to first fill the belly with breath, without expanding ribs or upper chest, then to let breath enter into ribs by allowing them to move laterally and outward, and only then, to let the inhale travel to the upper chest up until the clavicles. The exhale was taught in reverse manner, with starting to empty out the upper chest, then thorax with ribs moving in inwards and lastly, the belly. The wave of relaxation that passed over me when practicing this breath was indescribable, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Any sense of anxiety, of stress, of the inability to be present, disappeared as soon as I practiced this breath. I became calm, anchored and fully present. Just like that! Finally I had found an instant tool to calm the chronic anxiety that I had learned to live with over the preceding years.

Thirdly, it took the insight of an osteopath who I had consulted because of chronic low back and leg pain during the summer of 2011. My background as physiotherapist led me to believe this pain as being sciatica secondary to disc pathology, yet my attempts at treating this from a mechanical perspective only led to the pain being worse. It came as a complete surprise to me that an osteopath diagnosed my pain as being the result of an overly controlled exhale; of a diaphragm that had ‘forgotten’ the natural art of letting go, of releasing passively. The diaphragm being a muscle with fibres that connect to the thoracic and lumbar spine, as well as to the Mm. Iliopsoas - the big hip flexor - had become so contracted from years of exhaling improperly that it was this that was causing my back and leg pain. What a revelation!

The above may give the reader the wrong impression that my ‘being born to the breath’, as I can only call it, has been a blissful experience. In part, it has been, as a whole new world had opened up to me. As I wrote earlier, the year 2011 brought a realm of knowledge from the ‘you don’t know that you don’t know’ into the realm of ‘knowing that you don’t know’. Now, rather than being powerless, I was finally aware that there was something I did not know, but wanted to learn everything about.

However, as much as my discovery of the breath was cathartic, during the second half of 2011, I became painfully aware of the fact that – despite my new-born awareness - I was not breathing well at all. Rather than feeling like I was being cocooned from the present moment, as had been the case in 2000, this time was marked by the sensation of being constantly out of breath, of being suffocated, as if being drowned. I would gasp for air as if I had been submerged under water for too long. I wasn’t swimming though; I was on plain, dry land. And, I was struggling to breathe.

I came to realize that I had lost my capacity to breathe normally. ‘What was it that I was doing? Why could I not take an in-breath without feeling like somebody was sitting right on top of my chest?’ No matter how low in my belly I tried to inhale; it did not make a difference. I was suffocating. I looked unwell and I felt unwell. As if chased by an invisible rabbit, and not knowing how to escape. Trouble being that the rabbit resided within and I did not know how to get to it. The only refuge was to stop everything, close my eyes, lie down, bring my attention to my breath and consciously breathe yogic breaths that originated in my belly. And then something would happen. Even though ever so momentarily, the experience of breathing would turn from being an asphyxiating one to one of liberation[e4] . It was as if my entire being bathed in calm and space. How amazing! 

The before mentioned events have proved to be the first step in a process of change, of transforming one thing into another. And, that ‘thing’ was the role the breath was to play in my life. From one that was obscure to one that put it at the centre of everything. This first step was vitally important, as it put the spot light on the fact that there was much more to the breath than I had ever held possible.

This caused me to search out ‘breathing experiences’ and led me to a workshop on ‘Transformational breathing’ in November 2011. In brief, the founder of this practice considers the premature cutting of the umbilical cord following the birth of a child as causal in the establishment of an unnatural breathing pattern right from birth. Without being given those few precious minutes necessary to become reliant on its own breathing capacity while still have the connection to the mother’s placenta, fear is implanted in the child’s subconscious brain and breath is changed as a result. This pattern is reinforced throughout our life as fear, sadness and other negative emotions are locked in the breath (for more about the relationship between breath and emotional well-being, see section 3 and 4 of this part of the memoire). The way in which we breathe, both in quantitative terms (rate, rhythm, depth, intensity, physical manner) but also in qualitative (degree of consciousness brought to breathing), is a tell-tale sign of our physical and emotional state of health. All … “contribute precisely to the movement and embodiment of energy within our lives.” [13]

Just as breath carries the imprint of negative experiences, so it can release them through continuous, deep in-breaths with uncontrolled out-breaths, according to the Transformational Breath facilitator that I worked with. The Transformational Breathing workshop that I participated in late 2011 led me to breathe in this manner for about one hour. The emotional release I experienced is difficult to describe. Tears flowed, screams escaped me, my feet kicked and my balled fists were hitting the ground. All along, I kept on breathing. When the workshop came to an end, I walked out into the dark night feeling lightness unlike ever felt before. The next day I experienced boundless energy, event though I slept very little due to the fact that my child had restless night.

This workshop proved to be a turning point. It sparked a fascination with the breath unlike anything I have ever known before. I have studied various subjects over the years, but always those that resided solely in the world outside me and/or in the mental sphere, and the mastering of which depended on my capacity to deduct, analyze, understand. For the first time, I was grabbed by an undeniable hunger to learn not only about the breath, but also from it through experiencing it in all its facets. This was, as one author eloquently coined it, “that magical moment when a knowledge deep within us being to awaken”[14] that there is much more to the breath than one ever had held possible before.

3.         Ancient texts on breath

A study of the effect of yogic breath-centered yoga practices on consciousness of, and influence on, inner state of mind would not be complete without paying tribute to the ancient texts, particularly those that are foundational to yoga and which have long celebrated the wisdom that is hidden in the breath.

In my understanding, the first text that refers to the breath is the Rg-veda, II – 21 – 6, which underlines that that which connects us to others is prāna, respiration and breath.[15] According to Mijares[16], the first known written account of breath training can be traced back to approximately three thousand years ago, however; as teachings on the breath were originally only given to spiritual devotees in a secretive manner, this is by no means an indication of the long history of humanity’s reverence and respect for the breath.

“Eastern and Middle Eastern traditions typically included some form of breath practice as a catalyst for alchemical transformations on physical, mental, and spiritual levels. Even though explanation and spiritual exercises differed, each depth tradition had techniques for recognizing and integration masculine (active) and feminine (receptive) energies, emphasizing methods for balancing these two poles as part of the journey to realizing one’s unity with the divine. In particular, the ancient Hindu (Vedic) teachings known as the Upanishads were filled with references to the breath, acknowledging its relationship to creation itself.”[17]

In the yogic tradition, breathing practices are called prānāyāma. It is derived from two Sanskrit words, namely prāna, which translates as vital energy according to Easwaran[18] and āyāma, which stands for extension.[19] Patañjali describes prānāyāma as the control of the movement of prāna, and coined it as one of the eight limbs of yoga, thereby revealing it as a vital tool in spiritual development. And, although he did not go deeply into the different kinds of breathing exercises, he does underscore the importance of watching and regulating the breath.[20] In Yoga Sutra II-49, he explains that, once asana has been acquired, “… the movement of inhalation and exhalation should be controlled. This is prānāyāma.”[21] The Hatha Yoga Pradipika (HYP) refers to prānāyāma as the regulation of the breath[22] and goes into great detail about eight different types of practices, namely: suryabhedana, ujjāyin, sītkārin, śītali, bhastrikā, bhrāmarin, mūrcchā and plāvini.[23]

In its broadest sense, prānāyāma can thus be understood as the control of vital energy or prāna. This sense becomes clear when reading the HYP description of prāna as being is the thread that links the psyche of a human being to his body.[24] This is why, according to the HYP, the regulation of the breath serves to control not only the respiratory breath, but all the organic ‘breaths’, as such prānāyāma is the principal method proposed in the HYP by which to master the physical body on the one hand, and the mental organ on the other.[25] And Easwaran in his preface to the Prashna Upanishad describes prāna in his usual articulate style as “… a technical term for the energy which fuels evolution, powers the vital processes in all forms of life, and ultimately becomes thoughts and desires in the mind, where it becomes most readily accessible for us to conserve and redirect.”[26]

From the above descriptions of prāna and the notion that breath work implies the movement of prāna, it is clear that breath practices are an incredibly powerful medium with which to influence our physical body and mental state of mind. The HYP articulates this ever so clearly in sloka II – 2 by stating: “… when the breath is agitated, the spirit is agitated. When the breath is immobile, the spirit is immobile, then the yogi reaches its immobility.”[27] As is evident from the above HYP classification of the various types of prānāyāma, the yogic breath is not considered prānāyāma. It has however been said that prānāyāma can also be interpreted as lengthening and expansion of the breath[e5] , or according to the translation of YS II – 49 by Maman[e6]  as the end of unconscious breathing. As such, the yogic breath could be interpreted as prānāyāma as well. For the purpose of this part of the memoire though, the term ‘prānāyāma’ will not be used when speaking of the yogic breath and instead refer to the eight specific breathing techniques proposed in the HYP.

To my knowledge, nothing is written on this way of breathing by Patañjali, in the HYP, or in any other classic text. This is confirmed by Van Lysbeth.[28] A long search finally did lead me to find a published description of this type of breathing – but only towards the very end of writing this part of the memoire - namely in a document titled ‘The Science of Breath’, written by Yogi Ramachaka in 1903[e7] . This being the only published description that I have found of the yogic breath, please find below his full description of the ‘Yogi Complete Breath’ – which he subsequently abbreviates as complete breath[29]:

Ramacharka (1903) on the Yogi Complete Breath in the Science of Breath 

Right here we wish to say that this Complete Breath is not a forced or abnormal thing, but on the contrary it is a going back to first principles-a return to Nature. The healthy adult savage and the healthy infant of civilization both breathe in this manner, but civilized man has adopted unnatural methods of living, clothing, etc., and has lost his birthright. And we wish to remind the reader that the Complete Breath does not necessarily call for the complete filling of the lungs at every inhalation. One may inhale the average amount of air, using the Complete Breathing Method and distributing the air inhaled, be the quantity large or small, to all parts of the lungs. But one should inhale a series of full Complete Breaths several times a day, whenever opportunity offers, in order to keep the system in good order and condition.

The following simple exercise will give you a clear idea of what the Complete Breath is:

1.      Stand or sit erect. Breathing through the nostrils, inhale steadily, first filling the lower part of the lungs, which is accomplished by bringing into play the diaphragm, which descending exerts a gentle pressure on the abdominal organs, pushing forward the front walls of the abdomen. Then fill the middle part of the lungs, pushing out the lower ribs, breastbone and chest. Then fill the higher portion of the lungs, protruding the upper chest, thus lifting the chest, including the upper six or seven pairs of ribs. In the final movement, the lower part of the abdomen will be slightly drawn in, which movement gives the lungs a support and also helps to fill the highest part of the lungs. At first reading it may appear that this breath consists of three distinct movements. This, however, is not the correct idea. The inhalation is continuous, the entire chest cavity from the lowered diaphragm to the highest point of the chest in the region of the collarbone, being expanded with a uniform movement. Avoid a jerky series of inhalations, and strive to attain a steady continuous action. Practice will soon overcome the tendency to divide the inhalation into three movements, and will result in a uniform continuous breath. You will be able to complete the inhalation in a couple of seconds after a little practice.

2.      Retain the breath a few seconds.

3.      Exhale quite slowly, holding the chest in a firm position, and drawing the abdomen in a little and lifting it upward slowly as the air leaves the lungs. When the air is entirely exhaled, relax the chest and abdomen. A little practice will render this part of the exercise easy, and the movement once acquired will be afterwards performed almost automatically. It will be seen that by this method of breathing all parts of the respiratory apparatus is brought into action, and all parts of the lungs, including the most remote air cells, are exercised. The chest cavity is expanded in all directions. You will also notice that the Complete Breath is really a combination of Low, Mid and High Breaths, succeeding each other rapidly in the order given, in such a manner as to form one uniform, continuous, complete breath.

You will find it quite a help to you if you will practice this breath before a large mirror, placing the hands lightly over the abdomen so that you may feel the movements. At the end of the inhalation, it is well to occasionally slightly elevate the shoulders, thus raising the collarbone and allowing the air to pass freely into the small upper lobe of the right lung, which place is sometimes the breeding place of tuberculosis. 

At the beginning of practice, you may have more or less trouble in acquiring the Complete Breath, but a little practice will make perfect, and when you have once acquired it you will never willingly return to the old methods.

 Even though what Ramacharka referred to as the ‘Yogi Complete Breath’ is nowadays known as the yogic breath, it is interesting to reflect for a moment on his possible motivation for using the word ‘yogi’, which I assume cannot be but deliberate. Although the word ‘yogi’ conjures up images of a person capable of strange contortions and amazing physical feats such as walking on burning charcoals, the Bhagavad-gītā uses a more modest definition, namely a person who goes about her daily activities with detachment from rewards.[30] In using the word ‘yogi’, Ramacharaka puts the onus back on the practitioner and reminds us directly of the power of this way of breathing while at the same time inviting us to commit to it without any attachment to specific outcomes. Although to some, this breathing technique forms a basis to prānāyāma techniques, it leads to important benefits of its own and provides us a glimpse of what we are capable of reaching through prānāyāma.[31]

4.         Western and scientific understanding of the link between breath, emotional healing and spiritual growth

The breath truly can be considered a practical mystery of human existence. Take the following sentence and one can see that there is much more to the breath than first meets the eye: “The mere fact of breathing in slowly and deeply, while thinking about what we do is the spirit; is enough to alleviate mental agitation[e8] .”[32] It becomes immediately clear that breath and inner tensions are not stand-alone phenomena of the human body and mind, but indeed are interrelated.

Van den Berk in the Dutch only version of his book “Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit[33] (which translates as: The mystery of the cerebellum: About basic functions, psychosomatics and spirituality), considers breathing one of four basic functions of our cerebellum. In this fascinating book, van den Berk gives convincing evidence of the vital role breathing, eating and drinking, sleeping and dreaming, and sex, play in living a physically and emotionally healthy life, as well as a spiritual one. All of these functions are controlled by the cerebellum (our most archaic brain that is 500 million years old), which is in touch with the cortex the seat of our intelect. He postulates and proves that dysfunctions in these basic functions will result in poor health at all levels, as well as the inability to perceive oneself as part of a greater whole. His writings provide clear scientific evidence that our emotions and thoughts directly impact our physical body and, subsequently, determine the degree to which we can awaken spiritually.

For the purpose of this memoire, I will focus on his writings on breath, particularly those dysfunctions that are persistent and create tensions that are borne out the way in which we live. When speaking about dysfunction, van den Berk[34] is not referring to functional and temporary dysfunctions in our breathing, such as the fact that we hold our breath when we are afraid, or breathe more quickly when we are excited. He is also not referring to pathologies such as asthma or emphysema. No, the focus here is on the role of the breath as the barometer of our life that registers constant pressure that resides within us. Here it is useful to make a short detour to B.K.S. Iyengar[35] thought on the diaphragm as our primary respiratory muscle and the link between breath and the tensions that we experience on a day-to-day basis. [e9] He notes “the diaphragm is the medium between the physiological and mental sheaths and in consequence tightens as it records stress and tensions that occur in daily life.”[36] So where van den Berk simply refers to ‘the breath’, Iyengar goes one step further and names the diaphragm as the place in the body that actually registers the tensions. These tensions are given a physical shape in the form of changes in the breath, which as such can be considered a barometer of our life. In reverse, work of the diaphragm can release these tensions. It comes as no surprise then that Eric Baret, who teaches yoga of Cashmere, has been heard saying during one of his workshops that diaphragmatic work means ruins to the work of psychiatrist.

Van den Berk identified three specific dysfunctions that manifest when we live with constant tension, such as permanent feelings of fear or guilt, being inclined to aggression or the tendency to perpetually repress important instincts. He states that these emotions, which negatively affect quality of life, are unequivocally passed on to the cerebellum, which immediately changes the rhythm of our respiration. Mijares refers to the late Sufi master Hazrat Inayat Khan, who underscores van den Berk’s findings, in particular those related to the importance of the rhythm of the breath in his Heart of Sufism by stating that health in fact depends "upon the rhythm of the breath.”[37]

And so, that what is efficient in a normal situation, i.e. quickened more superficial breathing becomes detrimental if it results in a permanent breathing dysfunction. Van den Berk refers to this as phase one of the dysfunction. If one doesn’t free himself from this deregulated situation by liberating those tensions that led to the dysfunction in the first place, a person then enters into what can be called phase two, during which the breathing dysfunction amplifies the emotional dysfunction. As a result of insufficient energy, a person will become even more tired, weak, irritated and start to experience physical tension in the body; tensions that at first were only psychological but are now becoming physical as well. Due to poor breathing patterns, the respiratory system becomes irritated, our intestines and shoulders cramp up and become tense and blood pressure increases – in short, one has even less energy, becomes unhappy and possibly develops feelings of depression. Phase three declares itself through a physical illness, which is only now – in this very late stadium - being registered by the cortex, even though one was of course already long ill. And so, he who constantly ventilates his lungs poorly, he whose blood constantly contains too low of an oxygen level, he who leaves too many toxins behind in his body, constantly tarts with his quality of life and lives far below the bar of optimal health.

On the following pages, I will describe three prevalent and different breathing dysfunctions as explained by van den Berk.[38] The first common dysfunction is hurried breathing with an inspiration that is too short in comparison to the expiration. Only when the inspiration is long enough and held for a sufficiently long enough time, then the respiratory centre in the cerebellum has a stimulating effect on the cranial vagus nerve, which belongs to the parasympathetic system. This system is responsible for digestive processes and recuperation – the creation of energy. It has a slowing down effect on the sympathetic system, which is responsible for generating action, for increasing muscle tension and an accelerating heart rate. The nerve with the greatest ‘slow down effect’ on the sympathetic system is the vagus nerve, which sends impulses from our brain to our throat, trachea, lungs, aorta, heart, oesophagus, stomach, small intestine, pancreas, liver, spleen, kidneys, circulatory system – in short, to almost all organs. It can be said that the vagus nerve is their protector; without it, our organs would go in over-drive and we would soon be dead. The average civilized human being is overly driven by his/her sympathetic system, with an overdose of action as a result. This is evident from a wide range of physical symptoms, namely wide pupils, dry mouth, cold sweat, paleness, a heart that beats too fast, a slowing down of the peristaltic movement of the intestines, and increased irritability secondary to an overproduction of adrenaline. This is how the pathology of the prototype Western human being develops, and which is called stress. S/he sleeps poorly, is anxious and easily aggressive. This dysfunction is typical of our times

While the ability to control breath is not at all a hall mark of an overly active sympathetic system, such control does stimulate the vagus nerve, which has a calming effect on the sympathetic part of the autonomous nervous system In order to achieve this, the inhale ought to be sufficiently long and held. This is easier said than done though as a hurried life makes us breathe in a hurried fashion and this way of breathing prevents us – as a result of a lack of stimulation of the vagus nerve – from being present to ourselves which would allow us to exert control over our breath and subsequently, slow down. As a result, we hurry more, are even less at peace and so forth.[e10] 

The second prevalent breathing dysfunction is marked by breathing solely with the upper and higher part of the chest, while having lost the art of breathing ‘with the belly’. We all started breathing perfectly at birth with an inhale that was accompanied by the rounding out of the belly. Yet ask any adult to take a deep breath and he will push his chest forward, raise his shoulders and actually suck in his belly. He is, in fact, not taking a deep breath and is doing actually quite the opposite of that. According to van den Berk, this is learned behaviour that is the result of the decision to no longer being controlled by irrational, instincts powers and instead, to consciously ‘take life in our own hands’. In essence, this way of breathing cuts us off from the unconscious, emotional part of our being. Children are being raised to control themselves, to be disciplined and to limit their spontaneous and impulsive nature. Inevitably, this includes control of the breath, most often by holding their belly still. If this pattern continues, it will lead to residual tension and an altered, dysfunctional, breathing pattern. In short, when emphasis is put on functioning that is managed by the cortex, on thinking abstractly, on control, spontaneity and ‘living from the gut’ become rare peripheral phenomena. There were our instincts are being repressed, our cerebellum is being tyrannized.

Last, the third characteristic and common breathing dysfunction is that of emphasizing the inhale and not the exhale. As the exhale is required for good breathing, an incomplete exhale will necessarily mean an incomplete inhale; one cannot fill a vessel that has not been emptied. As the exhale has everything to do with releasing one’s autonomy, a person who is no longer capable of breathing out low and deep (with the belly) symbolizes par excellence a person with a cramped-up way of living. Breathing out deeply is synonym for the ability to let go, to surrender. Only when a person breathes out all his breath, can s/he receive new energy. Only then does one notice that breath is something that overcomes you, rather than something you are in control of.

Although van den Berk mentions the working of the vagus nerve, he does not delve into the workings of the autonomous nervous system. It is important here to briefly mention Weil’s[39] work in this regard. He explains that breathing dysfunctions such as the ones described here by van den Berk are directly the result of, or reversely, responsible for an imbalanced autonomous nervous system. This nervous system is responsible for controlling a great number of unconscious activities and can be divided in the parasympathetic and sympathetic system. As mentioned, activity of the parasympathetic part ensures restorative measures in the body, such as digestion and a slowing down of the heart rate, thereby enabling rest and relaxation. Simply said, it encourages ‘being’. Activity of the sympathetic part prepares the body for action by, for example, increasing blood pressure and heart rate, and slowing down the digestive system. Simply said, it encourages ‘doing’.

Our current society tends to be very ‘sympathetic’ in nature. The average person living in today’s Western society perpetually lacks time to do all one needs and wants to do and as a result needs to think on his feet and be in constant motion. It is easy to see that this type of life style easily risks putting one’s sympathetic nervous system in over-drive. As such, it is no surprise to Weil[40] that our autonomous nervous system is imbalanced as a result of too great a sympathetic activity.

Let me now turn back to Weil and van den Berk’s observations about an unbalanced autonomous nervous system as a result of an overly active sympathetic part. It is this that is at the core of this memoire. As an avid yoga practitioner, I have long been drawn to practice prānāyāma. Yet, as a person who had trouble breathing well at the best of times, and for whom all the control in the world had not lifted that feeling of asphyxiation, I became incredibly hungry for understanding more about what was going on with me. Van den Berk, in his description of these three prevalent breathing dysfunctions, shed a light that I can only described as monumental. When I read about the hurried breathing, I felt such a great sense of recognition, of being seen, of finally ‘getting it’. What he described in his revelatory book finally started to explain that what I had experienced with my dear friend earlier last year, when she taught me conscious, controlled, deep and full inhales and exhales; the yogic breath. Reading van den Berk’s words, it was truly as if a light bulb went on.

Van den Berk’s[41] simple recipe for addressing all three of these dysfunctions is based on the assumption that it is the cortex that disturbed the natural breathing pattern in the first place; that it is the cortex who is the one to rectify this situation. This by no means requires a super natural talent, except for a religious patience to simply find our way back to breathing naturally. Only this will re-establish balance between the cerebellum and the cortex. And only then will a human being be in harmony with himself and reality.

In the research for this memoire, I came across another greater writer, Max Strom[42], whom I have already quoted several times. Strom does not refer to specific breathing dysfunctions, however both Strom and van den Berk agree on the existence of a strong interdependent link between breath and emotions. The former speaks of repressed emotions and a restless mind/nervous system, which can be calmed and even healed with a dedicated breathing practice and delves more deeply into the particularities related to this, some of which I will briefly highlight. He states that “the nervous system can be brought into harmony through breathing practices, and with zero side effects.”[43] Amongst symptoms of an imbalanced system he includes anger issues, anxiety and trouble sleeping. Whilst some may call the above character traits, Strom begs the question whether they are not more appropriately viewed as symptoms; symptoms of restless mind that can be controlled by our intentions, will and conscious practice. Here is provides an analogy that can also be found in the Bhagavad-gītā, that of horses pulling a carriage: “if the horses are reactionary and highly skittish or aggressive, they cannot be tamed and trained to pull the carriage forth on the soul’s journey.”[44] I gather that van den Berk would equate the horses in this analogy with the cortex.

Both van den Berk and Strom underscore that conscious breathing calms the nervous system, lowers blood pressure and heart rate, improves sleep and reduces stress. What interested me most was that both men put tremendous emphasis on the power of conscious breathing. And whilst van den Berk proposes zazen and the practice of observing the breath as a remedie, Strom provides in-depth explanations of various exercises that all revolve around conscious – and deep – breathing. These two people would have thoroughly enjoyed meeting each other!

Here it is important to quote a very insightful article written by St. Mary[45], in which he describes the so called paradoxical respiration, an unnatural way of breathing during which the chest rises with the inhale while the belly does not move or even recedes. An online medical dictionary gives a more elaborate definition: “that in which all or part of a lung is deflated during inhalation and inflated during exhalation, such as in flail chest or paralysis of the diaphragm.”[46] I believe the paradoxical breath can be compared to van den Berk’s hurried breathing. During paradoxical breathing, the sympathetic autonomous nervous system is being activated, and a set of twenty muscles are being used that are not designed to support respiration. This in contrast to a normal breath (during which the belly inflates during inspiration and falls during expiration), where the parasympathetic autonomous nervous system is stimulated which activates only the diaphragm.

St. Mary’s[47] description lends great support to the writing of Van Den Berk[48] and Weil.[49] He states that for thousands of years the parasympathetic nervous system had the overhand allowing for a form of breathing that only relied on the diaphragm. Now, however, we are faced with a situation where the majority of people have an overly active sympathetic nervous system which prevents diaphragmatic breathing and leads to paradoxical breathing. This form of breathing in turn stimulates an already overly active sympathetic nervous system -secondary to the way our current society operates - thereby leading to a vicious circle of both internal and external factors reinforcing a self-perpetuating cycle of sympathetic firing that keeps a person in so-called over-drive and prevents him or her from relaxing and being in the present moment.

I believe that practicing the yogic breath provides a remedy to all of the dysfunctions described above – it ensures the inhale starts with an expansion of the belly – thereby reversing a paradoxical breathing pattern – and is held momentarily at the summit – thereby ensuring stimulating of the vagus nerve that has a calming effect on our entire physical and mental system. Yogi Ramacharka already understood over 100 years ago that "the healthy adult savage and the healthy infant of civilization both breathe in this manner, but civilized man has adopted unnatural methods of living, clothing, etc., and has lost his birthright. The Yogi Complete breath goes “… back to first principles-a return to Nature …”[50] As such, one should practice the yogic complete breath until it becomes one’s natural way of breathing according to Yogi Ramacharka. Only then will a solid foundation be built.

Having laid the foundation of my personal experiences and the research this led me to undertake, you will now be introduced to the application of lessons learned as a result in the form of a yogic breath-centered yoga practice taught to mostly illiterate immigrant women whom I got to know though my contact with an organization by the name of Camarada.[e11] 

5.         CAMARADA and its women[e12] 

As part of the yoga teacher training programme at Yoga 7, we were asked to teach yoga to people who generally speaking do not have access to such. I approached the organization Camarada with the question if they were interested in a series of six yoga classes in November 2011. They were and I was invited to attend an open morning. During this time, I learned more about the organization and met the Coordinator who showed great interest in my suggestion to teach yoga.

Camarada is an organization that welcomes immigrant women and their pre-school children by offering training that enhances their literacy skills and by familiarizing them with life in Geneva. The organization hosts some 700 women per year. Most women at Camarada come from countries in conflict and have suffered cumulative losses at the physical, mental, cultural, social and economic level. Camarada aims to ensure that their time in Geneva enables them to acquire new knowledge, strengthen their self-esteem and to appreciate that what they already know.

Camarada offers free gymnastics classes to its participants every Friday morning, and so it was proposed that I could teach yoga during one of these classes. As these usually lasted an hour, and I indicated that it would be preferable to have a little more time for the yoga classes, participants agreed to come thirty minutes earlier, giving us from 8.30 – 10.00 for the yoga class.

By way of introducing myself, the practice of yoga and my intent for the six classes, I joined one gym class on February 3rd of this year. I met with five women and the gym teacher and explained that I would very much like to share the practice of yoga with them, with a focus on breath work. I informed them that I was a trained physiotherapist, and that as such, I would be able to respond to question or concerns they may have in relation to possible physical problems. Knowing that French was not their first language – nor mine - I did my best to speak slowly and in simple terms.

Three of the five women were familiar with yoga, whilst the others had never heard of it. One of the participants was a woman from India and she was instantly enthusiastic about the class. Another was a young woman from Senegal and she was equally keen to join. A third was excited but expressed having trouble with her knees and wrists. The remaining two were open to the idea and willing to explore.

6.         The students and their reflections on their breath before the practice

Ten women presented for the first class on February 24th 2012. Between them, the eight immigrant women shared nine nationalities, namely: Senegal, Mexico, Morocco, Bolivia, India, Turkey, Tunisia and Thailand. Two additional Swiss women participated, namely the coordinator and the gym teacher. Five faces were familiar to me from my first visit, whilst five others were new. I organized the yoga mats in a large circle, allowing enough space to freely move arms and legs. I lit a candle that I placed in the middle of the circle and shared this was to honour the thousands of years that yoga has been practiced, as well as to remind us of the light that is within each of us and which guides us if we learn to listen to its voice. I explained that the practice that they were about to experience was designed so as to enable us to better hear this inner voice. Before entering into the practice, I took the women’s attendance, a habit I continued for the remainder of the classes.

By way of establishing an informal baseline, I asked the women one question to invite reflection on the degree of awareness of their breath and their understanding of its role in their life, This provided me with a sense of ‘where the women were at’ in terms of their relationship with their breath. To maintain the authenticity of the women’s voices, I have opted to include their comments here in the language in which they spoke, which was either in French or in English.

I went around the circle, asking them: ‘Are you aware of your breath during the day?’ And whilst I would not have been surprised if they had told me ‘no’, their responses revealed that their breath was not a stranger to them: “Je respire quand j’ai du mal, ça m’aide à dormir”, “Je suis consciente que ma respiration devient plus vite quand je pense à des choses stressantes, comme partir de mon pays”, “La respiration me rappelle que je suis le matin – m’aide à revenir dans mon corps”, “Pour contrôler mes émotions, me calmer, je respire moins vite”, “ma respiration s’arrête quand je suis nerveuse”; “Je focalise sur ma respiration quand je suis fatiguée ou fâchée”, and “Quand j’observe mon souffle, cela me calme”.

It quickly became clear that these women were not new to the breath and had already discovered it beyond a mere means of survival. When observing their natural breathing patterns, though, without fail did their bellies fall with the in-breath and rise with the out-breath. Now the challenge was two-fold, 1) to see how much yogic breath – centered yoga practice could assist in relearning a healthy breath pattern and 2) whether the practice could deepen their relationship with their breath to the point of it being perceived as a barometer of their inner state of mind and possibly, as way in which to improve this state so as to be better able to cope with their day-to-day lives.

7.         The practice

In developing the six classes, I was guided by the desire to invite the women to experience the link between their breath and their inner state of being. In order to realize this, I wanted them first to become conscious of a number of things: ‘How do you breathe? What is the length of your inhale versus your exhale? How profound is your inhale? Does it begin in your belly or in the upper part of your chest? Does it move all the way of from the belly into your ribs and upper thorax or vice versa? Do you force your exhale or does the breath simply flow out of you? How do you breathe, really?’

I decided to try to bring out the experience of how the breath can act as a key that opens the door to our inner world by inviting them to practice the following:

• Becoming aware of their natural breath, as it presents in the here and now

• Learning yogic breathing

• Experimentation with retention of the breath when the lungs are full and empty[51]

• Synchronization of movement with breath

My intention to teach the yogic breath made me question whether there is a set order of how to fill the lungs: from the belly up to the ribs and then upper chest, or the other way around; first the upper chest, then the ribs, to only then be followed by filling the belly as a last effort? After an in-depth search of diverse literature, and after having talked with various yoga practitioners, it appears that a conclusive answer does not exist. While some are convinced that the inhale should start low and end high, others are absolutely persuaded that the opposite is true[52] . I believe the answer to this question is far less important than the understanding that the belly ought to rise with the inhale and fall with the exhale.  For the purpose of my teaching at Camarada, I decided to teach the yogic breath with an inhale that starts with a filling of the belly and ends in the upper chest, and an exhale that starts with the emptying of the upper part of the lungs, then ribs and finally a drawing in off the belly.

The philosophy underlying the teaching of all the classes was that by tuning into one’s breath, one can tune into one’s inner voice; that our breath is like the barometer[53] of our inner lives; a barometer that tells us how encumbered or free we are from our emotional baggage; how closed or open our heart is to say ‘yes’! to the adventure of being alive. As such, breath can be a school that teaches us how to listen to ourselves and be the link that connects us to our inner most being. Paying close attention to our breath has the potential to open us up to a dimension that is larger than ourselves and which paradoxically invites us to return to our true self at the same time. Last, the practice aimed to teach awareness of the notion that the breath, and as such, energy, goes there where thoughts go. 

  

8. Students and teacher’s reflections on the practice

At the beginning and end of each class, we talked for about 15 – 20 minutes about the effect of the practice or the experiences with breath during the previous week. To preserve the women’s authentic voice, their reflections are quoted below in the language they spoke in, which was either in French or English. The women’s reflections on the effect of the practice are followed by my own on teaching a yogic breath-centered yoga practice.

First class – February 24th 2012 

Students’ reflections

During the first class, the theme was observation of the breath as it is. Following the first class, I invited the women to take a moment to reflect on the effect the practice had had on them. “Je sens que j’ai plus d’espace pour respirer”; “Je me sens calme, plus en paix”; “Ca m’a fait du bien”; and, with a great look of surprise, “tears were coming from my eyes.”

Teacher’s reflections

Pursed lip breathing

Prior to teaching this class, I had discussed with one of my teachers how I should go about indicating whether to breathe through the nose or not during this first class. We decided that it would be best to not say anything and to let the women breathe freely. While teaching the class though, I noticed that quite a lot of the women were practicing pursed lip breathing. Wanting for them to achieve an as normal as possible breath – meaning one that follows a linear increase in terms of time and volume during inspiration and a rather quick initial release of air when exhaling followed by a slowing down of the speed with which the air leaves the lungs. I encouraged those women pursing their lips during the exhale to open their mouth.

Synchronizing movement with breath

Whilst I had been aware that inviting the women to synchronize their movements with their breath would be challenging, the reason for which this would be so proved to be different than anticipated. Understanding that synchronization requires a great deal of focussed attention, I had not thought about the fact that the true challenge at this point in time was that their breath was simply too fast to allow their movements to follow it. And so, unless my aim was to turn this class into a fast paced aerobic one, I had to take a different approach on this goal. I discussed this challenge with one of my teachers, who suggested that I should leave this aspect aside for the majority of the exercises, instead inviting the women to practice this consciously during one or two simple exercises.

 

Second class – March 2nd 2012

Students’ reflections

The theme during the second class was re-learning the yogic breath. At the end of the class, we once again sat down to reflect on the effect of the class and their comments were priceless: “I feel natural, like the trees and the flowers, everything inside me flows”, “Ecouter mon corps – avant je dois respirer, maintenant je suis à l’écoute”; “It is as if canals are opening in my body, along my spine”; “Ca m’a débloqué ma nuque et mon bassin, j’avais mal avant et maintenant plus”; “Je sens plus d’oxygène dans ma tête”; and, “Avant je pouvais respirer que d’en haut, and maintenant je sens que je peux respirer avec mon ventre.”

Teacher’s reflections

In order to facilitate the women’s practice at home, I handed out two sequences of postures we had practiced during the firs class and which we would be repeating during the weeks to follow.

Teaching yogic breathing

This was the class where I had planned to begin to introduce yogic breathing. The fact that I was teaching ten women whom, safe for one, were new to yoga and whom, for the most part, did not have an even rudimentary grasp of the French language, in combination with the knowledge that teaching the yogic breath is normally done over a much longer series of classes, I entered the class fully aware that I was up for a challenge.

And, a challenge it was. My first attempt of teaching this type of breathing was done while the women were lying on their back, with one hand placed on their belly and the other on their chest. When I saw how difficult it was for most of them to, first of all, understand me, and second of all, make their bodies understand what their minds wanted them to do, I dreamed of having each one of them in an individual class. However, when we practiced the rest of the postures that I had selected for the purpose of feeling the breath rise and fall in the belly, then the ribs and last, the upper thorax, it seemed like their breath was beginning to find its way from the belly upward to the upper chest with the in-breath and down again with the out-breath. Not wanting them to make them think there is only one the right way, I made sure to explain them that this was but one way of directing the breath.

When, at the end of the class, the women were once again lying on their back and attempting to breathe a yogic breath, I was amazed to see how much they had already mastered in one class. There were bellies would not move at the beginning of the class, they now tentatively did, and there were the ribs remained immobile, they were now carefully flaring outwards! Seeing that the bringing of the breath into the belly during the inhale still presented as the biggest challenge, I decided to design a particular exercise (the pump) to facilitate this during the next class.

Third class – March 9th 2012 

Students’ reflections

Before starting the practice, I went around the circle with the question: “did you experience anything unusual after the last class?” The women responded as followed: “C’est comme si il y avait un bouchon qui s’en allait”; “Il y a tout le corps qui respire”; “J’avais mal partout après mais trois jours c’est parti”; “J’avais moins faim et je mange moins”; “Before, I had pain in my ribs, but they do not hurt anymore”; “J’aime la respiration”; “Je suis encore fatiguée, mais j’arrive mieux à gérer la fatigue.”

 

Similar to the second class, the theme for the third class was learning the yogic breath. After the class, the women’s’ remarks included the following: “J’ai plus de conscience corporelle”; “Plus ouverte”; “Blockages are gone”; and, “Everything becomes natural”; “J’ai pu amener mon souffle dans mon ventre”; and, “L’acte de respirer est devenu plus facile.”

Teacher’s reflections

Making sense of words

As requested by the coordinator at the end of the previous class, I took a little time to explain keywords at the beginning of this third class. Having planned to go through quite a few of them, I was only able to explain two key words due to the amount of time this required, namely ‘inspiration’ and ‘expiration’. Listening to their responses as to what these words meant, I was happy to have taken the time to go through them, not only as this allowed to clarify the meaning of the words, but also to once again re-emphasize that the belly should expand with the in-breath and withdraw when exhaling.

Yogic breath in seated position

When I planned the six classes, I had foreseen to teach the yogic breath in a seated position during this third class. I quickly gave up on this idea, having seen that practicing this in lying position afforded the necessary proprioceptic feedback from the ground, important in these early days of leraning the yogic breath.

The pump

The exercise that I designed to help the women feel the bellowing and emptying of the belly was a flow of movements that invites synchronization of movement and breath. I called this flow ‘the pump’, as it involved lying on the back with knees being pulled to chest during the exhale and knees moved away from the chest with the inhale, while hands maintained their position on the knees and the lower back moved into maximum lordosis, proved to have its effect. The women mastered the movement rather quickly and were able to synchronize the movement of their legs and spine with the inhale and exhale.

Fourth class – March 16th 2012

Students’ reflections

Similar to the weeks before, I asked if the women wanted to share something about the effect of the last practice before beginning the practice: “Avant je respirais lentement et vite pour vivre; maintenant quand je respire je me sens connectée à Dieu et mon corps physique est plus ouvert”; “Avant, j’avais une douleur au niveau des côtes gauches et je voulais aller chez le docteur pour un électrocardiogramme, mais après trois cours de yoga, je n’ai plus de douleur”; “Water is flowing in and out, before something was kept inside, but now it is open.” “Before, I used to drink, now no more. I eat less; feel not depressed anymore and have less pain in my back and shoulders.”; “Before, I had acid reflux and the doctor gave me medication, but I have not taken them and now I do not have the reflux anymore”; “I feel less anxiety when a door closes.

Teacher’s reflections

Progressing the pump

During the third class, I had introduced the pump. This class around, I had planned to progress the flow by adding in flexion of the neck and upper thoracic spine during the exhale, thereby aiming to touch forehand on knees. While teaching this additional movement, it became clear that it caused far too much strain on the neck, and as such, I decided to teach the flow in the exact same manner as the previous week.

Fifth class – March 23rd 2012

Students’ reflections

I was very curious to hear their reflections after last week’s class, where we had put the emphasis on lengthening the exhale and staying with the lungs empty for a few moments. Comments on the morning of the fifth class included: “Je me sens plus légère quand j’expire - je me sens plus connectée avec moi et avec Dieu”; “Expulsion de tension mentale”; “Something open in my belly – no eating, no need, feels good.”

During this fifth class, we experimented with retention of the breath at the end of the inhale. Reflections at the end of this class included: “Je me sentais légère, fraîche, ouverte”; “Felt like I was flying, as if I had no body”; “En paix”; “Energy flowing”; “During relaxation, I wanted to sleep but a voice brought me back – now I want to eat” (interesting, as this same person indicated wanting to eat less during the previous practice).

I asked if they found retention of the breath easier at the end of the inhale or at the end of the exhale.. Quite unanimously, they answered that it was easier to retain their breath at the end of the exhale. One of the women commented that“… avec les poumons vides, mon regard est vers l’intérieur et avec les poumons pleins tout devient léger.” Curious to find out if they could describe a difference in terms of effect of one or the other, I asked them. Only one of the women was able to tell me how she perceived them to be different, with the effect of the retention at the end of the inhale being described as being anchored within herself and being connected with the world beyond her physical body with retention at the end of the exhale. Knowing it has taken me years of practice to perceive of such subtle differences, I had not expected that any one of the women would be able to give me such a detailed and insightful response.

Before saying goodbye that morning, I received the most wonderful words: “You changed something really for us – put the light in us.”

Teacher’s reflections

Mastering language and breath

After a round of feedback on the effect of the last class, I decided to take a moment to make sure everybody had properly understood that the rising and falling of the belly with the in –and out breath. This time around, only two, as opposed to five of 11 women, were confused; progress from the last time around.

 

Se donner au ciel

The women expressed truly feeling like a hero in a sequence of asanas that transitioned from warrior I to warrior II, stating that it felt like their chest was expanding beyond that what it normally does. Seeing the effect this had on them, I decided to add one exercise from the Buddhist tradition named ‘se donner au ciel’. This exercise involves stepping one foot back while inhaling and at the same time pulling both arms - bend at 90 degrees at the elbows - back while maintaining close contact between chest and forearms. This backward movement of the arms should be completed at the end of the inhale, at which point one looks up – in as far as the neck and sense of balance allow – and maintains full retention of breath for as long as one is comfortably able to. When ready to exhale, the breath is slowly let out while the foot in the back position steps forward; the arms are lowered and the head returns to its neutral position. Then, one closes his or her eyes and perceives the effect of this exercise on his or her entire being.

 

Sixth class – March 30th 2012

Students’ reflections

Having worked with holding the breath at the end of the inhale, I was - given my interest in parasympathetic nervous system stimulation and resultant reduction of sympathetic activity - particularly curious to learn more about the effect this had had on the women. Their comments included: “Cela s’ouvre vraiment à l’intérieur”; Avant je respirais car je suis habituée à le faire, maintenant je m’écoute”; Si je respire mal, je commence à respirer bien”; Je m’écoute, je m’aperçois que maintenant je respire avec mon ventre qui se gonfle à l’inspire.”

During this last class, the four components we had practiced over the past five weeks were integrated, meaning, 1) synchronisation of movement with breath; 2) yogic breathing; 3) experimenting with retention of the breath at the end of the exhale, and 4) retention of the breath at the end of the inhale. Feedback at the end of the class included: “Ma respiration devient plus normal, pas besoin d’y penser”; “Je me suis laissée bercer par la respiration”; “Cela me rend consciente des douleurs et des espaces qui s’ouvrent pas, mais il me manque du temps après la pratique pour rester dans la douceur. J’ai aussi peur de m’ouvrir car je me sens plus sensible  - j’ai besoin du temps pour moi par exemple en allant me promener”; “Ma respiration est comme une rivière qui coule”; “Avant la pratique je ne respirais pas avec mon ventre et après oui et puis je me sentais plus ouverte et calme.”

Teacher’s reflections

Teaching this last class was a sheer delight. The women that were there had learned the various exercises, knew how to breathe a whole lot better and finally, there in this class, a sense of flow in and between the various postures became reality for the women. It was lovely. The time flew, and I already knew then that I would very much miss teaching this group of amazing women.

 

9. Exhaling: from the upper chest to belly, or the other way around?

The yogic breath helps to break down and understand one’s breathing better as being composed of diaphragmatic, middle and upper thoracic breathing. However, an important question was raised at the end of writing this part of the memoire, namely one that relates to the order in which one is to exhale: from the upper chest to belly, or from the belly to the upper chest?. This question came about for two reasons. The first one being that Ramacharka[1] – whose work I only found recently and as such towards the end of the writing of this part of the memoire, describes an exhale that begins with an emptying of the belly and ends with the releasing of air from the upper chest; the second being that the friend who taught me the yogic breath in the first place read my memoire and told me that I had wrongly remembered the exhale. Whereas I had understood the exhale to begin in the upper chest and end with the drawing in of the belly, she advised me that she had actually taught it in reverse order, with the exhale beginning with the drawing in of the belly and ending with an emptying of the middle and upper chest. As you may be able to imagine, the realization that I had practiced and taught the exhale part of the yogic breath differently than prescribed by Ramacharka and my dear friend was rather unnerving.

Yet, at the same time, I knew that practicing and teaching the yogic breath with an exhale that begins in the upper chest and ends with a drawing in of the belly had brought me, and my students at Camarada, untold benefits. And so, I once again turned to the literature to find out whether there was a conclusive answer to the question as to how to exhale.

This search unfortunately turned up nothing other than Ramacharka’s[2] work, which as mentioned, only came on my path at the end of writing this part of the memoire, and as such after my teaching experience at Camarada. The[e1]  only other descriptions that I was able to find found are in articles on the internet. One consistent aspect in all the descriptions on the yogic breath is that the belly rises with the inhale and falls with the exhale. The other is the fact that the inhale begins in the belly and ends in the upper chest. However, when it comes to whether to first empty the upper chest or the belly when exhaling, opinions differ.

Two different ways of exhaling are proposed, with one beginning in the belly – similar to Ramacharka’s description on the previous page - and ending in the upper chest, and the other following a reversed order. The first goes by the Sanskrit name of Vibhagha prānāyāma[3], which translates as lobular or sectional breathing or complete yogic breath, and the second is referred to as Deerga Swasam[4], which stands for three-part-deep-breath. And so, after an in-depth search of diverse literature and again talking with various yoga practitioners, it seems that the exhale of the yogic breath can be practiced in two different ways. Now having experimented with both, I find myself more comfortable with an exhale that starts high and empties low.

10. Personal experiences and observation of my breath in light of new understandings

I now know that, up until that magic moment last year, I did know anything about the mystery that is the breath, beyond its mere function of survival. And that as a result, I was searching in the wrong place for an answer. I looked everywhere to find a resolve to my anxiety and self-perceived lack of presence. Here I will paraphrase the poet Rumi’s wise words, which alert us to the often forgotten treasures that lie within: ‘we knock on many doors in the search of an answer, but the door that finally gives us the answer most often is the door to our own heart.’

With my eye set on observing my own breath, I have been amazed, even baffled, to discover that I, in fact, did not know how to breathe when I first set out to contemplate the subject for this part of the memoire. At that time, I felt a strong but impossible wish to return to my pre-yoga days to know how I was breathing at the time. I questioned what had happened in the course of this last decade or more. How could I have forgotten to breathe naturally? And, most important of all, what can I now learn about my inner state of being by tuning into my breath and by breathing a yogic conscious breath?

Let me quickly remind you of the guiding question for this memoire, namely: ‘What is the effect of yogic breath-centered yoga practices on consciousness of, and influence on, inner state of mind?  Given the rather personal history that drives this question and the related yearning to integrate my breath as a supportive element of my being, rather than one that works against me, the decision to consider myself as an object of study was easily made.

I believe it would not be right to speak about inner state of mind without touching on the subject of emotional healing and spiritual growth. To me, emotions are strongly linked to physical and mental health and as such, healing is necessary if one is to grow. I believe that unexpressed negative emotions will eventually express themselves as physical ailments and ultimately hamper our process of spiritual transformation. As Strom explains:

Many people believe they are not in need of emotional healing, mistakenly believing that their health symptoms, such as chronic sleep disorders, depression, anxiety, overeating, and smoking tobacco, are issues of mind or body, but not emotionally rooted. Therefore, many become inexplicably stuck on their path, not from lack of effort, but because of the chains to the past known as anger, grief, and fear. These buried emotions, like thorns in the heart, can be crippling to our spiritual practice. It is as simple as this: when we are in pain, we become self-centered and myopic. When we heal, we become more empathetic, selfless, and sympathetic to the pain and welfare of others. We also become more sensitive to subtle energies and are able to hear the inner voice of our intuition, previously drowned out by the noise within.

The invitation to write a memoire could not have come at a better moment. It has been the perfect catalyst by which to give form to my fascination with the breath and to finally be able to step out of this self perpetuating cycle of poor breathing patterns. I have been reading books ferociously, studying ancient texts and searched out further breathing experiences. In becoming an active participant in the quest to develop an answer to the above question, I decided the make breath the focus on my own practice, whether as part of postural work, meditation or during my day-to-day activities.

Since the relatively short time that I committed myself to studying the breath, I can attest that the awareness of my breath has increased exponentially. Regularly during the day, I find myself checking in with my breath. Invariably, I take note of the fact that I am not breathing with my belly and that my breath is locked in my upper chest. Perhaps not surprisingly, it is also then that I realize that I am stuck in my head, thinking about things past and future, paying little to no attention to what it is that I am doing at that very moment. As soon as I bring my attention to my breath, take it down into my belly and accompany it for a few moments, I am back in the here and now. This brings a smile to my face, and at once, I sense joy, space, presence and an associated timelessness. Wow! The power of attention to the breath has not yet ceased to amaze me.

In consciously choosing to make breath the centre point of my practice, interesting observations have surfaced during my meditative practice. Since joining a ten-day silent Vipassana Goenka style meditation retreat in 2000, observing my breath as it comes in - and out - of my nostrils has been the focus of my meditations. Lately though, I have become aware that - when I am being distracted by my thoughts and have lost the focus on my breath - my exhale becomes forced. When refocusing my attention on my breath, I am once again able to let it flow out of me. This reminds me of my osteopath’s comment that I have forgotten the art of breathing out in an uncontrolled fashion and has strengthened my resolve to carve out a daily time for meditation.

In my postural yoga practice, I used to breathe Ujjāyin in a traditional sense. Given my challenge to exhale freely and without control, I have ceased breathing Ujjāyin, instead opting for a conscious deep breath that travels in and out and makes my belly rise, expands my chests, and elevates my clavicles during inhale and release the exhale without any control.

The decision to give a lead role to my breath in all aspects of my life, and so also in my postural work, has changed my practice significantly. Whereas my desire to open my body in the past often led me to hold or lengthen my breath; I now synchronize all my movements with the breath. As a result, it flows in and out of me without interruptions, increasingly giving me the sensation that I am one with the breath. Intuitively, it often feels right to finish the practice with kapālabhāti (HYP II - 35). After, it is delightful to sit in meditation, as I am able to experience that all is one. In contrast to before – when my breath was not the lead actor of my practice - the sense of unity stays with me long beyond the mat. This has allowed me to bring the benefits of yoga more and more into my daily life and in doing so, to that of my family and friends.

And, I continue to experiment with yogic breathing. Some days, I do so laying on my back, seated or in a standing position accompanied with an upward arm movement on an in-breath and a return of my hands in Namaste in front of the heart with an out-breath. The exercise generally lasts no more than 10 – 15 minutes. I sometime experience a release in the form of tears, sounds, or tingling sensations. I invariably feel lighter and more joyful after these exercises.

Let me briefly elaborate here on the release of tears, as I experience this regularly. Whether I am meditating, doing postural work or breathing practices, quite often a few tears run down my face. I am neither crying, nor weeping and there is no apparent emotion that accompanies these tears, yet true tears they are. I have long wondered what this meant. In reading literature for this memoire, I finally came across the following explanation: “when you learn to breathe well, at times you will inevitably experience tears. This is caused by the releasing of trapped grief that you have been holding on for years.”[7] Apparently, once this grief has been released, the tears will stop.

11. Concluding remarks] 

So, from yogic breathing with my friend in the summer of 2011 to van den Berk’s[61] revelatory book and then Strom’s[62], to my Transformational Breathing experience, personal practice and teaching experiences, have led me to be convinced of the importance of learning and teaching the yogic breath.

To answer the guiding question of this memoire: ‘The breath as guide: ‘What is the effect of yogic breath-centered yoga practices on consciousness of, and influence on, inner state of mind?’, I will first draw on my own experience in terms of the effect of integrating the yogic breath into my day-to-day life, then move on to the effect it had on my students, and last its place in a yoga practice before finishing with a succinct synthetic statement.

Personal experience and observations to date have taught me that mastering and practicing the yogic breath plays a very important role in unlocking emotions deep within me so that they can be released and in calming down an overly active sympathetic nervous system. Given that the respiration is the only function controlled by the autonomous nervous system that has both a voluntary and an involuntary component[63], it is the only natural key with which to balance an otherwise imbalanced system. Once my emotions are released and my autonomous nervous system regains its natural balance, I can grow spiritually, making me into a freer, lighter person with more inner and outer space. The voice of my intuition is strengthened and joy just simply resides in me irrespective of external circumstances that are beyond my control, rather than that I am dependant on such and need to bringing it in through one or the other external activity.

Returning to the notion of ‘The breath as guide’, my personal experiences as a student and teacher of yoga have confirmed that the breath can indeed take on the role of guide in our day-to-day life. As described earlier, I have long had the ambition ‘to bring my character to the level of my soul’. By putting my breath in the role of lead actor, this appears to be happening at an accelerated pace. It seems to have unleashed a powerful guide in my daily life and has elevated its status from a tool of survival to one of transformation; a guide that is with me - always and everywhere -and which if tapped into can teach me invaluable lessons about which choices support me on my journey, and which don’t.

As for the women at Camarada, the experience of the yogic breath connected them with themselves and that which lies beyond, created space within and generated a sense of calm and peace. Furthermore, unable to sleep, the simple act of turning attention to the breath turned one woman from an insomniac into someone who is now sleeping soundly. Another said that her constant urge to eat and frequently drink alcohol has gone away and yet another that she now feels the desire to drink water throughout the day, something previously unknown to her. And, whereas the notion of the breathe as guide was not immediately evident from the women’s previous comments, a feedback session at Camarada one month later, taught that their breath was now indeed guiding them in multiple ways. They explained that the simple act of bringing attention to their breath made them stop and reflect on how they were feeling and what they were doing. Often, it was only then that they realized that they were worried, overly busy and doing things in a manner that was not conducive to their inner peace. As one woman put it: “Tuning into my breath, I can observe myself and my behaviour and only then I can I tell myself, no! Not like this!” Once aware, they explained that the simple act of observing their breath would re-establish a sense of inner calm and subsequently, alter the way in which they were doing things.

Thanks to my personal and students’ experiences, I have witnessed that mastering the yogic breath can bring untold advantages to anyone. This, given the fact that the majority of people breathe the so-called ‘paradoxical breath’[64]. As you may remember, sees a reversal of normal healthy breathing, instead causing the belly to fall with the inhale and rise with the exhale. This causes perpetual sympathetic nervous system stimulation and does not allow for balanced autonomous nervous system functioning which in turn would allow for a physiologically normal breath, thereby causing a self – perpetuating cycle that can only be broken if one learns how to breathe the yogic breath.

This memoire does not intend to convey the message that by breathing consciously and deeply alone we can live with our heart wide and open. It may perhaps, but that is not the thinking that is driving the exploration laid out herein. Of course, many other things are required for this as well, such as the fulfillment of the basic levels of Maslow’s pyramid of basic human needs, or as so eloquently explained by van den Berk[65], a healthy dose of sleep and dreaming, eating and drinking, and sex.

But, as noted by Mijares, “breath has the power not only to restore physical health and free us from psychological limitations; it can also lead us into transformation and wholeness.” [66]

This part of the memoire has consciously steered away from prānāyāma[67], instead choosing to focus on the yogic breath. At this point in the writing though, it is paramount to take a moment to return to this subject. Prānāyāma techniques have long played a very important role in the yoga tradition, one whose power is celebrated throughout ancient texts and which has survived centuries of human development, only to remain a vital tool on the road of transformation. But, what if a person has lost the ability to breathe normally due to deep rooted emotional issues or an imbalanced autonomous nervous system? Is prānāyāma then the best prescribed exercise, or should one first recover the ability to breathe deeply and fully? My answer to this question shall come as no surprise. I indeed to believe that it is vital for a person to first re-learn how to breathe naturally, in order to be able to release the emotions that have laid dormant in the crevasses of our unconscious mind often for decades if not longer, as well as to balance parasympathetic and sympathetic autonomous nervous system activity – and only then, to venture into the amazing world of prānāyāma.

And this is where my amazement comes in, as in the thirteen years that I have now been attending yoga lessons, which were often taught by great teachers, the attention given to teaching the yogic breath and its benefits, has been minimal. In addition, as an avid yoga practitioner, it took me all these years to wake up to the fact that I had lost the art of breathing consciously and deeply. Strom articulates the same point:

“Conscious breathing is one of the most powerful transformative tools available to us, yet even with the tremendous popularity of yoga today, it is largely untapped. …Making breathing practices a part of your daily life will initiate meaningful transformation much more deeply and profoundly than yoga postures alone. Not that the practice of postures isn’t extremely significant, but if you have a posture practice and still breathe unconsciously, your mind/nervous system is probably still restless.”[68] 

As such, this memoire aims to convey that the value of the yogic breath is far from being recognized in our culture and worse, seems to have been forgotten in the teachings of yoga in the West. Even though our culture has embraced yoga as a long-lost infant, and even though breath is being taught as part of yoga practices from New York to Paris in the form of the eight types of prānāyāma, the importance of first leaning to breathe a yogic breath seems to have been lost. 

In my humble opinion then, the importance of students’ mastering the yogic breath ought not to be underestimated. In fact, I would even go as far as to argue that it is a necessary initiation technique into prānāyāma; one that should be mastered before venturing into the various breathing exercises laid out in the HYP. Of all the authors I have read in the process of writing this part of the memoire, only Yogi Ramacharka put this in writing in 1903 by stating:

“The Yogi Complete Breath is the fundamental breath of the entire Yogi Science of Breath, and the student must fully acquaint himself with it, and master it perfectly before he can hope to obtain results from the other forms of breath mentioned and given in this book. He should not be content with half-learning it, but should go to work in earnest until it becomes his natural method of breathing. This will require work, time and patience, but without these things nothing is ever accomplished. There is no royal road to the Science of Breath, and the student must be prepared to practice and study in earnest if he expects to receive results. The results obtained by a complete mastery of the Science of Breath are great, and no one who has attained them would willingly go back to the old methods, and he will tell his friends that he considers himself amply repaid for all his work. We say these things now, that you may fully understand the necessity and importance of mastering this fundamental method of Yogi Breathing, instead of passing it by and trying some of the attractive looking variations given later on in this book. Again, we say to you: Start right, and right results will follow; but neglect your foundations and your entire building will topple over sooner or later.” [69]

Of course, prānāyāma ought to be practiced and taught, but only when the yogic breath has been relearned. As such, I am now convinced of the importance of consistently integrating pre- prānāyāma breath-work into yoga classes for the purpose of first increasing students’ consciousness of their breath and then to relearn the yogic breath. Breathing practices can be taught as stand – alone exercises, as part of a meditative practice or a visualization. It can equally be taught as part of postural work, whether through synchronization of movement with the breath, or otherwise. From my own experience and that of my students, breath work done on the mat quickly finds its way off the mat, thereby easily becoming a daily practice that is not limited to the time in which one practices yoga.

This memoire sought to find an answer to the question: ‘What is the effect of yogic breath-centered yoga practices on consciousness of, and influence on, inner state of mind?’ Experience has taught me that a yogic-breath-centered yoga practice does indeed raise consciousness of one’s breath. Tuned into the breath; we can learn much about our inner state of mind. Furthermore, the seemingly simple act of bringing attention to our breath immediately begins to still our often restless mind. This allows us to go beyond the frenetic, persistent, and often automatic nature of our mental activity; one that acts as a veil that prevents us from perceiving our emotions and that what is eternal and lays beyond, namely our essence, the Self, which is peaceful, still and spacious. Connecting to the breath through its observation can be considered a fast track approach that allows us to dive to depths of our being that generally are masked by thoughts that judge, dislike, like, and so forth.

Finally, this memoire served to explore the notion of ‘The breath as guide.’ Following the exploration of this subject from various angles, I can now say that putting the breath in the role of lead actor enables us to begin to make new choices, thereby validating the role of the breath as guide. As personal and students’ experiences have shown, the ramifications of a yogic breath-centered-yoga practice are profound. It appears to create unity between mind and breath, thereby enabling awareness of the workings of our mind and, beyond such, our essence. The reverse is equally true: practicing the yogic breath influences our inner state of mind. Practicing the yogic breath balances an unbalanced autonomous nervous system, thereby decreasing sympathetic over-activity which prevents us from being present in the here and now. Metaphorically speaking, the breath can be considered a light that brings us to ‘the here and now”. Once we are present, the template from which we view ourselves and the world around us is changed. Once the template has changed, our choices will change, thereby altering the course of our destiny. Strom’s words in this regard ring very true to me:

“Show me a student with a powerful and refined breathing practice, and I’ll show you a person undergoing rapid transformation. Your very life changes quickly as your breath melts the ego, almost as fire melts ice. Your heart center opens wider, and so do your eyes, and then you see differently and make new choices based on this new vision. When this happens you will begin to sense your purpose and veer towards your true path.”[70]

Given sufficient space in this memoire, it would have been most informative to elaborate further on Doctor Andrew Weil’s revelatory findings on the relationship between the way one breathes and the functioning of the autonomous nervous systems in terms of its sympathetic and parasympathetic activity.[71] Another question begging to be explored is that off the possible relationship between conscious and unconscious emotional tension and the functioning of the autonomous nervous system. Also, now understanding the effect of the yogic breath with slight retention at the end of the inhale on the autonomous nervous system, it would have been valuable to discuss the effect of lengthening the exhale and kumbhaka with empty lungs on the nervous system. This question has been one of great recent intrigue, given that lengthening the exhale and maintaining a rest at the end while the lungs are empty is so encouraged in yoga.

The fact that the writing of this part of the memoire is coming to an end is by no means an indication that the subject is also being closed. On the contrary, the invitation to explore the breath in its many dimensions has only added fuel to the fire of my fascination and pushed me to search ever deeper. And so the journey continues.

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[1]Strom, M. (2010): Skyhorse Publishing, New York, A life worth breathing: A Yoga Master’s Handbook of Strength, Grace and Healing, p. 114.

[2] André, C (2011): L’Iconoclaste, Paris, Méditer: jours après jours: 25 leçons pour vivre en plein conscience, p. 32.

[3] Freely translated from Blitz, G. (1991): Albin Michel, Paris, Yoga. Sutras Patanjali, YS. I -.12, p. 20.

[4] Van den Berk, T (2007): Meinema, Zoetermeer, Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit, p. 68.

[5] Strom, M. (2010). Skyhorse Publishing, New York, A life worth breathing: A Yoga Master’s Handbook of Strength, Grace and Healing, p. 104.

[6] Yogi Ramacharka (1903): London L.N. Fowler & Co., London, The Hindu-Yogi Science of Breath, p.37.

[7] Van den Berk, T (2007): Meinema, Zoetermeer, Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit, p. 67.

[8] Strom, M. (2010). Skyhorse Publishing, New York, A life worth breathing: A Yoga Master’s Handbook of Strength, Grace and Healing, p. 104.

[9] The Hatha Yoga Pradipika (HYP II - 51) describes the Ujjāyin breath as followed (freely translated from French to English): mouth closed, we must inspire the air slowly through both nostrils, so that it rubs up from the throat to the chest, producing a sound.

[10] This flows from a saying that I learned while living in Canada for over a decade. It goes as follows: ‘there are three realms of knowledge: one that pertains to that what we know; another that relates to that which we do not know, and then the third, and largest category, which is the one of which we do not know what we do not know.’ The latter tends to influence our life to a far greater extent than the other two categories. And, when you do not know that which you do not know, one is left powerless until one becomes aware of that what it does not know.

[11] Freire, P. (1970): Penguin Books, London, Pedagogy of the oppressed.

[12] Freely translated from: Michaël, T. (2008): Fayard, Paris, Hatha Yoga Pradipika - Traité de Hatha-Yoga, II – 53: “Ujjāyin or ujjāpin, from the causative form of uj-JI is prānāyāma - conqueror - making victorious”, p. 153.

[13] Sky, M. in Mijares, S.G. (2009): excelsior editions, New York, The Revelation of the Breath: A tribute to its wisdom, power and beauty, p. 91.

[14] Mijares, S.G. (2009): excelsior editions, New York, The Revelation of the Breath: A tribute to its wisdom, power and beauty, p. 4.

[15] Freely translated from Sifonios, A. (no date). Philosophie Indienne: Le Veda, p. 8.

[16] Mijares, S.G. (2009): excelsior editions, New York, The Revelation of the Breath: A tribute to its wisdom, power and beauty, p. 3.

[17] Mijares, S.G. (2009): excelsior editions, New York, The Revelation of the Breath: A tribute to its wisdom, power and beauty, p. 3.

[18] Easwaran, E. (2009): Nilgiri Press, Tomales, The Upanishads, p. 122.

[19] Moline, L., Daouk, M., Gillet, G., and Deduit, Y. (2004): L’Harmattan, Paris, Yoga et medicine: Manual pratique, p. 33.

[20] Satchidananda, Swami (2009): Integral Yoga Publications, Yogaville, The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, Y.S. I – 34, p. 57.

[21] Idem, p. 158.

[22] Freely translated from Michaël, T. (2008): Fayard, Paris, Hatha Yoga Pradipika - Traité de Hatha-Yoga, p. 72.

[23] Michaël l, T. (2008): Fayard, Paris, Hatha Yoga Pradipika - Traité de Hatha-Yoga, II - 44, p. 147.

[24] Idem, pp. 72 – 73

[25] Idem.

[26] Easwaran, E, (2009): Nilgiri Press, Tomales, The Upanishads, p. 222.

[27] Freely translated from Michaël, T. (2008): Fayard, Paris, Hatha Yoga Pradipika - Traité de Hatha-Yoga, p. 129.

[28] Van Lysbeth, A. Revue Francaise de Yoga, no. 128. Faut-il respirer à l’inverse?, p. 19.

[29] Yogi Ramacharka (1903): London L.N. Fowler & Co., London, The Hindu-Yogi Science of Breath, p. 30.

[30] Easwaran, E. (2010). Nilgiri Press, Tomales, The Bhagavad Gita, p. 134.

[31] No title: http://www.healthandyoga.com/html/pran.html, May 14 2012.

[32] Free translation of Varenne, J. cited by Moline, L., Daouk, M., Gillet, G., and Deduit, Y. (2004): L’Harmattan, Paris, Yoga et medicine: Manual, p. 33. Original quote: Le seul fait d’inspirer lentement et profondément, en pensant à ce qu’on est en train de faire, suffit à apaiser l’agitation mentale.

[33] Van den Berk, T (2007): Meinema, Zoetermeer, Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit.

[34] Idem, pp. 67 – 71.

[35] B.K.S. Iyengar (2005): Rodale, London, Light on life: The journey to wholeness, inner peace and ultimate freedom.

[36] B.K.S. Iyengar (2005): Rodale, London, Light on life: The journey to wholeness, inner peace and ultimate freedom, p. 75.

[37] Mijares, S.G. (2009): excelsior editions, New York, The Revelation of the Breath: A tribute to its wisdom, power and beauty, p. 2.

[38] Van den Berk, T (2007): Meinema, Zoetermeer, Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit.

[39] Weil, A. (2008): The master key to self-healing – audio book available at: http://www.amazon.fr/Breathing-The-Master-Self-Healing/dp/156455726X, May 14 2012.

[40] Weil, A. (2008): The master key to self-healing – audio book available at: http://www.amazon.fr/Breathing-The-Master-Self-Healing/dp/156455726X, May 14 2012.

[41] Van den Berk, T (2007): Meinema, Zoetermeer, Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit.

[42] Strom, M. (2010). Skyhorse Publishing, New York, A life worth breathing: A Yoga Master’s Handbook of Strength, Grace and Healing.

[43] Idem, p. 103.

[44] Idem, p. 103.

[45] St. Mary, J. (2011): The paradoxical breath – article in Solva Thérapie 6 training material titled ‘Exercices pour Soutenir et Maintenir des Changements : Modification Posturale, Ergonomie, Modification Comportementale.’

[46] The Free Dictionary: http://medical-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/paradoxical+respiration, May 14 2012.

[47] St. Mary, J. (2011): The paradoxical breath – article in Solva Thérapie 6 training material titled ‘Exercices pour Soutenir et Maintenir des Changements : Modification Posturale, Ergonomie, Modification Comportementale.’

[48] Van den Berk, T (2007): Meinema, Zoetermeer, Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit.

[49] Weil, A. (no year): The master key to self-healing – audio book available at: http://www.amazon.fr/Breathing-The-Master-Self-Healing/dp/156455726X, May 9 2012.

[50] Yogi Ramacharka (1903): London L.N. Fowler & Co., London, The Hindu-Yogi Science of Breath, p.29.

[51] In a traditional yogic understanding, the breath is comprised of four parts, namely: expiration or recaka, inspiration or pūraka (HYP II – 71) and retention of the breathe at the end of the exhale with the lungs emptied of air, or alternatively, at the end of the inhale with the lungs full of air being referred to as kumbhaka, which stands for retention (HYP II 43). If practiced with activated bandhas, these exercises would classify as prānāyāma under the names of mūrcchā (HYP II 69) and plāvini (HYP II 70).

[52] Van Lysbeth, A. Revue Francaise de Yoga, no. 128. Faut-il respirer à l’inverse?

[53] Van den Berk, T (2007): Meinema, Zoetermeer, Het mysterie van de hersenstam: Over basis functies, psychosomatiek and spiritualiteit, p. 67.