‘Become aware of the breath, the sensation of the air passing in and out through your nostrils. As you focus in on this sensation, let everything else in your mind slowly fade away. Let all the things that have happened to you today and all the things that you have to do, all your cares, all your worries, all your troubles, slowly melt away. All you become aware of is the in and out of your breath. In…. and out…. in….. out….’
The journey from Meditation to Breath
I was sitting cross-legged in a Buddhist Gompa, listening to my teacher give instructions. It was very comforting; a still and quiet refuge from the craziness of the outside world. Whenever I stepped into the temple, the thick red carpet and scent of nag champa incense burning made me immediately relax.
While my teacher was speaking I found it very easy to concentrate. Her steady voice had a certain authority, and my mind naturally did as she asked. I focussed in on my breath, its slow steady rhythm and the in–and-out of air on my throat. My concentration narrowed, tightened, focussed. In…. and out…. in….. out….. .
I felt I could really train my mind in such a space, tame my monkey mind by improving my concentration. Make it like a smooth still lake, untroubled by ripples. Make it like the clear blue sky, untouched by clouds. Meditating on my breath was working on becoming enlightened – just as Buddha had – and that was definitely a goal worth striving for.
‘There is the outside world,’ my teacher said, ‘and the inside. Your breath is the bridge between them. You know what the outside is like; full of suffering and delusion, but do you know what the inside is like? What wonders lie inside? Remember, your breath is the bridge between them. In… and out…. In… out….’
And indeed there were wonders inside. Oceans of stillness, of peace, of strength, of love and compassion for all living beings. Big mind and big heart. Buddha mind, buddha heart. Enlightenment.
But when my teacher stopped speaking and let me meditate in silence, my meditation ended. My concentration wandered, my focus slipped. My monkey mind was back, jumping around all over the place, going anywhere but my breath. I was on the bridge and trying to get back inside, but it seemed a titanic wind was pushing against me, and the more I pushed on, the harder it pushed me back.
It was even worse when I left the refuge of the temple and tried to meditate at home. Not only was there that same wind beating me back – refusing me entrance to my inside world of wonders – but the craziness of the outside world, drenched in suffering and delusion, made the bridge feel like a dangerous place, an untethered, flapping rope bridge to cross a raging torrent. One slip and the waters would swallow and drown me.
After a while, I stopped meditating. I stopped going to the Gompa, I stopped following my teacher. Although my lack of progress in my meditation was not the primary reason in my decision, it definitely played a part. The glimpses that I had of my inside world became just memories. Enlightenment seemed again unattainable. I stepped back from the breath, from that bridge of terror, and became immersed again in the outside world.
A few years later, by chance I found myself at Conscious Breathwork in Bali, Indonesia. My experience of Buddhist breath meditation had left me cynical yet longing for something to happen. I wanted to try and cross the bridge again, but I had lost the faith that I – or even anyone else – really could.
For those of you who have experienced a Conscious Breathwork, you will know that it is nothing like a Buddhist breath meditation. There is no concentration, no focussing, no mental component at all. Just breathing, Conscious Breathing. Within a few breaths of my first session, amazingly, magically, without any effort, without even really listening to the teacher, I found myself back at the bridge, staring towards my interior world of wonders. The wind was as strong as before, perhaps stronger, the bridge more unstable, and the waters below more akin to a deluge than a river, but I was back, looking at something I thought lost to me forever.
This time though, standing at the start of the bridge, I felt strangely calm. With a flash of insight I knew what I had to do. Rather than force myself across, I took a different path. For a moment, I stood up tall and faced the wind, feeling it wrap and buffet my body. Then I let myself fall backwards into the river, letting the waters engulf and sweep me away.
You see I realised that my breath was not just the bridge, my breath was also the river. And if I just let myself go, if I abandoned my fear and followed my breath it could sweep me away not just to my inside world of wonders, but to places that I could not even imagine. A place where there was no difference between inside and out, where there was not any difference between suffering and enlightenment.
If you have the opportunity to try a Conscious Breathwork, and if you then find yourself standing in front of the wild elemental rivers of your own being, then you might find yourself letting go as well.
You could even go there right now, if you are brave enough. It’s easy. Just breathe. Consciously breathe.
In…. and out…. in….. out….
Benedict Beaumont – Founder of Breathing Space
To find out more about Benedict, take a look at his profile in Practitioners Corner
