breathing exercises

Today, while doing my breathing exercises, the ones that help me make the most of my damaged lungs, parts of which have been replaced by sarcoid granuloma, I realized how harsh my voice is to myself.

The exercises ask for something precise: breathe in and out rhythmically, for a certain length, in and out. But sometimes I have to sneak in an extra breath, or I miss the cue. And there it was, a voice in my head, sharp and fast: “Wrong. You messed up again.” My body would tense before I even noticed the thought had arrived.

I would never speak to a friend that way.

So I started deliberately using a different voice. Different language. “Well done for trying. Well done for showing up for your lungs, sweetie.” I began smiling every time I missed a beat, instead of tensing up.

And I remembered something my doctor said Thursday, that I’m the most disciplined patient she has. I told her I do my physical therapy and breathing exercises almost every day. Sytze confirmed it, when she looked at him in disbelief.

Doing my exercises is one of the ways I take care of myself. So why was I scolding myself for not doing them perfectly, every single breath?

Because of this month’s theme in the Wilder forum (Befriending your whole self), I was more conscious of the pattern in me and more able to meet it with gentleness. If I could do the exercises perfectly, would I still need them? No. It isn’t my job to be perfect. It’s my job to try.

So: well done, Josh. You did the exercise today.

It struck me, after, that this is exactly what I already know from my labyrinth-making and knitting. A labyrinth has no wrong turns, it is just a path you walk, one step at a time. A dropped stitch doesn’t undo the sweater. A mistake in the pattern can be accepted or redone. I’ve been learning this for years. And now it is time to teach it to my lungs.