The Pin in the Balloon

On perfectionism and breathwork in Ojai.

Today I met with my Spiritual Therapist and he asked me how everything is going with the substack, this was part of my answer: 

After working in editorial for ten years as a fashion market editor, people always mistook me for a writer. I am not a professional writer. I helped to create the images you saw in the pages (let's be real, on Instagram). I would write captions and short blurbs, but toiled over them for hours and then had them rewritten, fact-checked and scoured over by at least ten people as the pages went through to the printer. This isn’t that. This will have typos, errors and my opinion. I have been struggling to release these posts for fear of judgment and my perfectionist tendencies. I am not sure I want people to know more about me. I am interested in using this to share what I am learning or experiencing while making sense of it at the same time. I am excited that my friends, teachers and yoga community are willing to talk about these topics with us… but I am stifling myself, procrastinating and in-doubt. I’ve always felt that the standards I’ve set for myself have been unattainably high. What I am saying is, it’s been nearly impossible to let myself just write. 

Said Spiritual Therapist said “write that… it will put the pin in the balloon”. 

I already feel better. 

Last February I had my first experience with breathwork. It wasn’t pleasant. In fact when it finally ended, I was pissed. I wasn’t expecting that this two part inhale and one part exhale would make my hands into cramped immobile lobster claws (which I later learned is called Tetany). I was in a paralysis that pushed me into a panicked state where I felt I couldn’t raise my hand for help. Once the class started to ease off the breath other participants were able to journal and chat, while I felt stuck and broken. I slowly sat up, saw Alden and said “what the fuck?” Why were we doing this? Why did I feel so alone and why are people telling me the cramping in my hands was proof that I “cleared” something from my heart? My anger mounted. Luckily, I was friends with the teacher and discussed my lonely experience with her after I settled down. Was I just unprepared? Did I really have a block in my heart so strong that it sent me into panic? I felt scared by the power of the breath. 

Nine months later I was on a flight to Ojai to see David Elliot, an author, teacher, healer and — a master at teaching this technique of pranayama. 

Of course after my first experience I swore I wouldn’t try it again, but I kept hearing about my peers' transformational experiences and I wanted to know what all the hype was about. During other trainings I sat out when breathwork was on the schedule, I leaned in when Alden and other trainees came out of it and wanted to know if anyone felt the way I did. 

Alden went on to do the level 1 - 5 Healer training with David Elliot at Omega. When she came back she said she was the most open and connected that she had felt in a long time. I listened to both of David’s books on audible (highly recommend this since he is dictating), The Reluctant Healer and Healing. His Kentucky accent makes this all the more enjoyable. 

A diagram from Healing 

I was ready to give the breathwork another shot and had Alden lead me through a one-on-one session at her apartment with her dog, Miss Billie, by my side. With stones in my hands, oils on my skin, burnt sage wafting in the air and Annie Lennox’s, Why blasting, I felt great. I reminded myself to let go. My hands still cramped, but less this time, my chest and mouth tightened, I kept breathing. My chest was vibrating and then out of nowhere something clicked, I experienced a fleeting moment where all my self doubt was suspended and I let out a laugh. I thought “that’s it”. I cried. Laughed some more. And kept breathing. 

I try to keep myself so in-control, so disciplined, that I forget to let go. This meditation with the breath pushes me out of my brain and into my body. Yes, it helped that I had just finished David’s first book before doing this but there’s only so much intellectualizing you can do. I just had to do it.

Me and Miss Billie at Alden’s. 

I now collect ocean stones. 

After a few more sessions, solo, in class and with David on zoom, Alden and I went to Ojai to see David in person. We went to his home in a tucked away oasis swarming with hummingbirds. I saw his gardens and met his dog, Rainbow. I was nervous, stammering over my words, I just listened to 15 hours of this man’s books! We talked about the things in my life that I want to work on and then I got on the table to breathe. 

At the end, laying there with ocean stones in my hands, I basked in the feeling, not the thought, but the feeling that I am enough, and life can be easier.  I have so much love to give — it's like a tidal wave crashing up against an alleyway — when I breathe that alleyway widens. 

After breathing on my walk in Ojai.