Take Today Breath by Breath
We’ve all heard the saying, “take it step by step.” I finally started to internalize that lesson when I began running cross country.
One practice, one of my coaches at the time spoke a phrase that he liked to remember when a race was getting difficult. “How do you eat an elephant,” he asked us. “You break it up; you take it bit by bit... one bite at a time,” he prompted. “Eat the elephant,” I still repeat to myself, whenever life feels overwhelming or like a race I’m concerned about seeing through to the finish line.
Another maxim frequented by my coaches was, “change the channel.” If your body is cramping and you’re worried about keeping pace, drop into your breath, focus your thoughts on being encouraging, and let your mind carry you. If you’re being your own worst mental enemy, drop into your body and let your legs prove to you that they will keep moving you forward. Sometimes, each step you take is like an act of rebellion against who you thought you were; it is an revolutionary act of bravery to dare to put one foot in front of the other, especially when you’re proving yourself wrong by doing so.
Moving step by step still constitutes moving forward. Life, though, doesn’t have clearly outlined distances with a finish line marked off by colorful flags and place markers made out of index cards. No, life is less linear than we like to admit. That’s why I started replacing “step by step,” with “breath by breath.” Focusing on my breathing brings me right back to center, whether I’m running or cramming for a final. Breath by breath. Inhaling in goodness, ease, and life force. Exhaling out self-doubt, resistance, and fear.
Learning to switch the channel to my breath has been a game-changer. Breath, at its truest form, is a mechanism of meditation. I remember one senior, at a end-of-the-season cross country team reflection, as he was joking and looking back on his time on the XC team, quip that he had seen God on many a runs. We all laughed, but we knew what he meant. There are no atheists in foxholes, as the saying goes. Praying doesn’t seem so crazy when it feels like it’ll be a miracle to run the time you’re shooting for. There’s also a certain type of bliss associated with a run during which you feel as though you’re having both an out of body and out of brain experience...
“There is something magical about running; after a certain distance, it transcends the body. Then a bit further, it transcends the mind. A bit further yet, and what you have before you, laid bare, is the soul.”
— Kristin Armstrong
We tend to think that there’s courses laid out for us in life, that there’s a path carved leading us to grace. I believe that we stumble into grace. It’s when we feel like there’s nothing left to lose that we discover what is worth living for. When we stop trying so hard to know what things will look like every step of the way, we can focus on how we want to take our next step. But, if we had all the answers, we wouldn’t have faith, or need it, for that matter.
It’s the moments that humble us the most that teach us the power of breath. First, to be a dutiful “I haven’t dropped my pre-med emphasis just yet” student on you, breath work helps us calm down by activating the bodies parasympathetic system. When we are nervous or under stress, our bodies are chemically portraying that, firing off signals that activate our sympathetic nervous system— aka our “fight or flight” response. A few deep breaths, like box breathing, can help our bodies return to a homeostatic, balanced state. Once we have gotten our body chemistry under control, it’s important to understand that our brain cannot tell the difference between a painful memory, future event, and the present moment. So, even if you’ve gotten your body calmed down after experiencing the physical effects of whatever has you frazzled, a prolonged experience of that emotion— chemically speaking— will continue occurring if you cannot detach yourself from ruminating over it.
My childhood temper tantrums live in infamy amongst my family members. I always needed a brown paper bag. The only way to get me to stop crying and convulsing was to get me to breath in, crumpling the brown paper bag, and then out, filling it back up. Lord knows what made my little self so upset those days, but there’s been a few moments that have knocked me on my ass enough to make me wonder, “do I need a brown paper bag?” Now, I am sure to let it all out, but after I’ve let the emotions run through course through my body physically, I try to let that be it. I wipe my tears, and I either journal, go for a walk/run, dance, or meditate. Sometimes it’s as simple as asking myself, “do I have any control over this outcome, in this very moment?” If no, I nurse myself down from my high-strung state, breath by breath, reminder after reminder that the whole staircase isn’t even built yet, and maybe all that exists is the single stair I’m looking at. If yes, I do some sort of activity— getting my nails done, walking, getting a coffee, crying— and then I get to work on what I can tangibly do to get the outcome I desire. It always takes that first, “I’m alive, I’m safe, this is temporary” deep, long, juicy breath to regain the headspace that allows me to come back to earth.
There’s a quote, “we make plans and God laughs,” that I heard from my idol Tinx from @itsmetinx as she spoke on a podcast episode with @dietstartstomorrow . I couldn’t agree more with her sentiment, and I feel like such reasoning speaks to why we must strive to living life breath by breath. Breathe in the now, breathe out any thoughts keeping you from being here now. We can make all the plans we want, it doesn’t necessarily make it any more likely that said plans will come to fruition.
Here’s to doing our best. To letting our bodies carry us when our minds feel heavy; to trusting our mind to love our bodies, even when they’re tired. To eating the elephant that is life: one bit at a time. To taking life step by step—breath by breath.