Alyssa Luboff, PhD

There are times when life is really hard, when it feels like everything is falling apart, like things couldn’t possibly get any worse, until they do. How are you supposed to handle that? How are you supposed to even begin to make your way out of a mess like that? Start by asking yourself just this question:

If you are like me, the very thought of breathwork can leave you gasping for air. No form of mindfulness sounds less relaxing or restoring than being asked to focus on your breath. Your heart starts racing. Your breathing becomes fast and shallow. Or maybe you get a queasy feeling in your stomach. For people who suffer from conditions such as PTSD, anxiety, and chronic pain, the thought of breathwork can bring to mind more panic than peace.

As our world grinds to a halt – Flights canceled, production stopped, commutes erased – Our planet, for the first time since the Industrial Revolution, Reverses the flow and begins to breathe. She is healing, shedding, transforming. And this virus, ironically, attacks the human lungs. We gasp for air. What do we do now? Are we doomed? How do we breathe?

I once read the Tao Te Ching from cover to cover in a single afternoon. Sucked in and mesmerized, I had no words; simply, the truths of the Chinese classic resonated with my soul. This is how it is to flow with the universe. I emerged from my office as if to another world, my head swirling with the poetry of being. Everything felt alive, as if it were speaking to me, as if we were not separate, but deeply interconnected.

Most people know that meditation calms the mind and relaxes the body; they are also aware of the tremendous health benefits of this practice. The problem is that many people find it hard to sit still long enough to meditate. One of the most commonly taught meditation techniques is to focus on the breath. If the mind wanders, we are instructed simply to notice this and to return the attention gently back to the breath. For people with a restless or racing mind, this technique