Inhale, Exhale: Simple Breathing Exercises to Anchor Your Soul
By Grace — The grandmother you always needed. Sourdough, wisdom, and zero judgment. ·
The peonies are finally starting to unfurl here in Vermont, and the garden is waking up with that frantic, beautiful energy that June always brings. I spent most of the morning with my hands in the dirt, trying to convince the stubborn weeds to vacate the perennial bed, and I found myself holding my breath. I do that, you know—clench my jaw, shallow-breathe, and brace myself against the day as if I’m waiting for a gust of wind to knock me over. Maybe you do it too?
It’s funny how, even at sixty-seven, I still have to remind myself that my lungs don't belong to the to-do list. They belong to me. They are my first and last tether to this earth. Today, I want to talk about how we can use those quiet, rhythmic movements of our chest to find a little more stillness in a world that feels like it’s constantly rushing to get to July.
The Teacher’s Secret to Calm
When I was teaching second grade, the classroom could go from a peaceful reading circle to a chaotic flurry of flying erasers and lost homework in the blink of an eye. I learned very early on that if I started shouting, the room only got louder. But if I stopped, placed my hand on my chest, and took a deliberate, audible breath, the room would eventually quiet down, too. It’s a bit like a mirror—your body reflects the energy you give it.
Breathing isn’t about 'fixing' a bad mood or erasing your stress. It’s about signaling to your nervous system that you are safe in this moment. You don’t need a yoga mat or a meditation app to do this. You just need to be exactly where you are.
The 'Box of Five' Technique
My grandson, Leo, taught me a version of this when he was struggling with a math test last spring. He calls it the 'Box of Five.' It’s simple, and it works because it gives your busy mind a little task to focus on, which keeps it from wandering off into the woods of 'what if.'
1. Find a comfortable place to sit. It doesn't have to be perfect. The kitchen chair works just fine. 2. Inhale through your nose for a count of five. Feel the air hitting the back of your throat, cool and crisp. 3. Hold that air for a count of five. Just let it sit there, like a pause between sentences in a good book. 4. Exhale through your mouth for a count of five, like you’re blowing out a birthday candle. 5. Wait for five counts before you take the next breath.
Repeat this four times. That’s all. It’s barely two minutes of your day, but it’s enough to reset the dial. It’s a way of telling your body, 'We aren't running from anything right now. We are just sitting here, and that is enough.'
Finding Rhythm in the Mundane
We often think that 'wellness' has to be a big, scheduled event, but I’ve found that the best medicine is woven into the chores we’re already doing. When I’m kneading my sourdough—and goodness, that dough needs a lot of patience—I try to time my breaths with the movement of my hands. Push away on the exhale, pull back on the inhale.
If you’re doing the dishes, let the warmth of the water be your prompt. Every time you pick up a plate, let your shoulders drop away from your ears. Take a deep breath as you scrub, and let it go as you rinse. You’re washing away more than just soap and suds; you’re clearing the residue of the morning’s frustrations. We can turn the most tedious tasks into a little anchor for our peace if we just pay attention to the air moving in and out of our bodies.
When the Weight Feels Heavy
I know that some days, breathing feels like climbing a mountain. When Tom passed, there were weeks where I felt like the air wouldn't even reach the bottom of my lungs. Grief has a way of making us feel small and tight. If you’re in a season where you feel like you’re holding your breath just to keep it together, please be gentle with yourself.
Don't force a 'deep' breath if it doesn't want to come. Just notice your breath. Just watch it go in, and watch it go out. You don't have to change it. You don't have to make it 'better.' Just acknowledging that you are breathing is a victory. It’s a testament to the fact that you are still here, and you are still moving through it.
A Small Invitation
I’m going to go put the kettle on now. The sun is hitting the porch, and I think I’ve earned a cup of chamomile and a few minutes of just watching the wind move the leaves on the maple tree.
Why don’t you try that Box of Five exercise once before you move on to your next task? Then, come back here and tell me how it felt. Did your shoulders drop? Did the room feel a little quieter? I’m always sitting right here, kettle on and ears open, if you need to talk about whatever is weighing on your mind.
Sending you so much love and a deep, steady breath today, dear one.