My Unforgettable Unlimited Breath Session

My day for starting Unlimited Breath was some time ago. As a person who had done some personal exploratory work before, I wasn’t too scared of what might happen. I thought it would be more of the same kind of letting go of old traumas. I figured, if I get down to that level through something as simple as breathing it would be worth it.

I was a little nervous of what I might “do” under the spell of this particular breathing technique. Would I scream? Cry? Ruin my image somehow? And by the way, how would I feel? I was curious to find out.

My Unlimited Breath practitioner greeted me at the door with a smile. We walked back to her office, which was simple but comfortable, and housed a small desk and a single massage table.

In the beginning of the session she educated me about Unlimited Breath and we talked in an informal, relaxed manner. I felt I had the space to feel safe, to open up and understand myself. With the experience of the practitioner I observed the connection between my beliefs and my experiences.

First we talked about my experiences, problems and goals. We discussed the inner programs that I had learned from my birth, childhood and family patterns, programs that I have in my mind affecting me now. She explained how we would explore memories with the understanding that they are only past decisions that can be changed in present time. She showed me that this was the door I needed to open to come to my real freedom and happiness.

After some talking/discovery I was ready to lay down to do some actual Natural Breathing.

She taught me how to breathe through what is called the “Five Breathing Basics”. I shed my shoes and lay down on the table, feeling awkward, foolish and vulnerable. With full support and guidance I began to breathe. My practitioner told me that whatever I experienced, wasn’t really important.

She asked me to speed up the breathing, but I didn’t want to. Speeding up felt like hyperventilating. I wanted to breathe slowly and deeply. My practitioner explained that the Natural Breath is breathing to the top of the lungs, not into the belly. This was not exactly shallow, but certainly not the prana breath I had learned in Yoga.

So I sped up my breathing slightly and tried to expand to the top of my lungs with each breath.

“Good, you are a natural,” I heard. I had my eyes closed. Then I drifted. I would suddenly become conscious of almost going to sleep, then pull myself back into the sustained continuous breathing. Sometimes my practitioner reminded me to breathe; sometimes I did it on my own. I was deeply aware of breathing and I could hear my practitioner’s voice perfectly well, but I was not thinking. I wasn’t doing anything.

I don’t know how much time went by. The next thing I remember was a peculiar tingling sensation in my hands, as if they were going asleep. Then the tingling intensified; the pins and needles pricked my hands faster and faster, closer and closer together. The feeling began to spread up my arms, past my wrists, and I also began to feel it in my feet. I concentrated on my breathing. I was a little scared.

And then I became aware of feeling younger and younger, as if I was speeding back through time I felt like a child. At the same time I felt my body tingling. I identified some vague feelings of sadness, loneliness and grief. Besides the tingling I felt waves of heat and cold rolling up my body from my feet.

I began to cry. It wasn’t exactly that the sensations were too much. I wasn’t connecting my feelings with any event. I just felt them and let them happen.

The end of the session was a time of relaxation and integration of the experience.  I lay quietly with my eyes closed, swimming in a sea of warm, vague feeling, breathing quietly. My body luxuriated in a deep relaxation.

I opened my eyes and smiled at her. I tried to raise myself up to sit on the massage table. I instantly got lightheaded. I settled for resting on one elbow.

I felt terrific. I was totally relaxed. I felt peaceful, calm and real hungry. I was also proud of myself. I felt an optimism about life, an excitement almost, that I stumbled upon only rarely.

The next few days flowed effortlessly. I felt relaxed, calm and happy. I was willing to roll with whatever life served up. I was eager to live.