Finding My Breath

It’s wild really – we breathe every minute of our lives, but most of us never stop to think about how we’re doing it. Or that we even could think about it.

But lockdown had me doing all sorts. I’d already started walking more, slowing down, trying to reconnect with something that didn’t involve screens or stress – but even with all that, my head was still noisy. The outside was getting quieter, but the inside wasn’t following suit.

That’s when I stumbled on breathwork.

Now, I’ll be honest. The idea of sitting still and breathing as some kind of transformational tool sounded like nonsense. Breathe in, breathe out – congratulations, you’re alive. But something told me to try it. And, to be fair, I didn’t have much to lose.

I started small. Five or ten minutes, sat quietly, usually first thing in the morning. Just me, my breath, and a mild sense of awkwardness. I wasn’t chasing enlightenment – I was just trying to quiet my brain. At first, it felt clunky. My thoughts kept hijacking the process. But I stuck with it.

And slowly, it started to do something.

Not magic. Not fireworks. Just… space. Space between thoughts. Space between stimulus and reaction. The kind of space I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I tried a few techniques – box breathing, 4-7-8, nostril stuff that made me feel a bit ridiculous – and then sometimes just let myself breathe naturally, but with awareness. No plan. No app. Just noticing.

The surprising bit? It started showing up in the rest of my life. I was sleeping better. I wasn’t jumping at every email notification like a bomb had gone off. My gut felt better (probably the first time I’d ever noticed that). I could take a breath before reacting – to people, to stress, to my own spirals.

Breathwork became less of a wellness task and more of a companion. It wasn’t about ticking a box. It was about having a tool that was already mine. A way to anchor myself, whether I was in the middle of a full-blown mental tangle or just trying to start the day without spinning out.

I didn’t shout about it. Still haven’t really. But it’s stayed with me.

Turns out the thing I’d been overlooking – the one I’d been doing on autopilot since the day I was born – might actually be the most powerful lever I’ve got.

And it’s right here. Every time. Inhale. Exhale. That’s the whole deal.