A Brush with Peace

A book I've been reading introduced me to the topic of holotropic breathwork. I was interested by a firsthand account described by the author, so I watched a short video on the topic.

Then I gave it a try. 

V was gone for the day, so I had space to be alone and vulnerable. I laid down under a light blanket, put a sweatshirt over my eyes, and began focusing on my breath. I allowed my breath to become deeper and slower, until I felt ready to be present to the current moment. I then pushed the breath to become more rapid and strong. Faster, faster, faster, until everything seemed to be breath. 

Then it began. First I was aware that my body had taken over the breathing for me; I was no longer concentrating. I gave up control, the pace of breath oscillating between fast and slow. I stopped caring, more preoccupied with an energy that settled throughout me. Stomach, hands, face, and feet tingled with it. It was a delightful sensation. After some minutes I was aware of a pain in my stomach, so I performed a short body scan. The pain lessened. 

Images began, memories from the past day, then a bird swooping toward me. Then nothing. 

No body, no breath, no feeling whatsoever. There seemed to be an absence where I had just been laying, and all that was left of me was warmth. It was silent, I could no longer hear my breath. Ambient noise seemed simultaneously faster and slower, then it simply ceased. 

I couldn't hear, I couldn't see, I couldn't feel. Just warmth. Just peace. I didn't feel these things--I was these things.

I don't know how long until it was over. Gradually, I started to feel again. I could feel my body pressing into the bed, could hear laundry tumbling, and cars on the wet streets outside. I removed the sweatshirt from my eyes to find the room filled with sunlight, and I had the impression that the sun was an old friend. 

It was 30min well spent, even if I don't quite know what to make of it. Amazing that all this came from the mere act of breathing.