Breathing for Courage and Hope (with a spiritual practice to try)

The coronavirus is reminding us to treasure deep breaths. We’re invited us to notice everyday gifts like lungs that fill easily with less polluted air. Another grace is that more clean air is available since we’re not pumping as many pollutants into it, particularly important since it seems dirty air makes the virus more deadly.

When I came down with a virus several weeks into the pandemic, my physician’s assistant mentioned that people tend to get stuck in shallow breathing during times of stress and encouraged me to be intentional about breathing deeply. My closest friend said she’d heard Christopher Cuomo talking about how important deep breathing was to his recovery from Covid-19. To be clear, such breathing won’t cure the virus but it can improve lung health and help you be better equipped to heal. 

Paying Attention to Breath

I think we’re invited to be more aware than ever of the physical and spiritual benefits of breathing deeply and intentionally. As a spiritual director, my favorite way to begin a session is to invite a moment of centering prayer. I usually remind the person I’m meeting with to try and take some of the deepest breaths they’ve taken all day, inviting fresh air to go deep into their bellies as they become present to themselves and the kindness of the Spirit around them in whose good image they’re made.

Yoga has also taught me a lot about the power of conscious breathing over the years. Heating, ‘ocean sound’ breath has become second nature over more than a decade of practice. There’s something simultaneously strong and calming about breathing with intention. It’s a wordless yet unmistakable celebration of life. 

And breath connects us. It’s usually a very good thing that in a shared space, there are physical and other resonances among people when we’re breathing the same air. This is one reason zoom is so exhausting—so many of the non-verbal cues that help us communicate and connect are missing on the screen. But since proximity, sharing the same air is the primary means of transferring the virus, right now sharing space with people—so vital to mental and emotional health—is the very thing we need to limit. Which is one of the things that has made this season so hard. We need each other. We aren’t meant to be alone, breathing alone.

Breathing for Courage and Hope

As I reflected on the sacred power of breathing, a moment during a difficult but impactful day in seminary came to mind. We were invited to share about times when God had seemed distant. We spent the entire day listening to the pain of our fellow students and sharing our own. As we heard each other’s vulnerable stories, we collectively remembered how easy it is to believe others are as ‘put together’ as they seem. To forget that everyone is carrying some kind of burden.

I was sitting next to a strong and capable pastor who, it became clear, was gathering the courage to tell her story. I prayed for her silently, my breath unconsciously slowing and deepening as I implored comfort and safety for the tender place she was preparing to expose. I became aware of another minister to her right who had the same instinct and was breathing and interceding similarly. Before long, she began relating her experience of how God met her in the midst of loss and dashed dreams. We were grateful for her vulnerability and the empathy and compassion in the room grew accordingly. She handed me a note the next day, thanking me for the way my friend and I had breathed with her, even for her somehow, freeing her words and allowing them to flow. 

A Breathing Practice

I wonder if we can do that kind of breathing with and for each other right now, even from afar? As we keep weathering the storms of pandemic and unfolding racial unrest, I encourage you to try this breathing prayer: 

Find a comfortable position. Leave your eyes open or closed. Breathe in deeply, counting to three. If it feels okay in your body, pause, holding the breath for a beat. Then, breathe out slowly and completely, counting to four or five. Continue breathing this way, tuning into gratitude for your lungs and the rest of your body. Begin to breathe for those you love, letting your breath become a prayer for them. If you get distracted, gently invite your focus to return to your breath and to your intention to breathe for hope and gratitude. If you become light-headed, try extending your breath in. If that doesn’t help, allow your breath to return to its natural rhythm for now.

Try this practice for five to ten breaths in the beginning. Later, you could set a timer for five to ten minutes. As you continue returning to this prayer practice, you might invite your breath and the wind of the Spirit to go further. Try letting it become a hope for healing for those you know who are sick, for those whose lungs struggle to take in air, for an end to the pandemic, for essential workers, for provision for those who have lost their jobs, for the silver linings of this time to impact future plans for good. 

You could even dare to allow your breath to become an ache for more racial healing and justice in this country, for an end to police violence against unarmed people, especially people of color. In light of the horrific story of George Floyd’s death by asphyxiation, you might consider focusing your breathing prayer on racial healing and justice for eight minutes and forty-six seconds, the amount of time Derek Chauvin’s knee was on George’s neck. Notice what comes up. Breathe through your grief or anger or avoidance. Breathe into hope. Try letting the Holy enter into that space with you.