The Art of Acceptance in Breathwork

I remember the first time I tried breathwork. It was at a retreat center in Ubud, Bali. You know the type – lush jungle, the distant sound of gamelan music, and more yoga mats than you can shake a stick of incense at. The facilitator, a serene man in white linen clothes and long white beard and hair. "Just breathe," he said, his voice as smooth as the rice paddies outside, "and let whatever comes up, come up."

So there I was, lying on a mat, surrounded by blissed-out strangers, all of us breathing like we were running a marathon while perfectly still. And let me tell you, what came up was... rage. Blinding, white-hot rage.

For an hour, while everyone around me seemed to be floating on clouds of ecstasy, I was a volcano of anger. I was mad at the mosquito buzzing near my ear, furious at the sweat trickling down my back, someone was touching me, and why was that guy making so much noise when he was breathing?! I had visions of getting up, kicking someone in the head and storming out. But of course, I’m too polite to ever make a scene.

When we ended the session, we were in a sharing circle and everyone was sharing their incredible experiences, and even the guy who sounded like he was literally being murdered in the session, had nothing but positive things to say. Then, the final kicker, Ben said “I saw angels!”. I was done.

I left that session feeling like I'd failed at breathwork, which is ridiculous when you think about it. I mean, I've been breathing successfully for decades. But more than that, I felt like I'd failed at relaxation in Bali, which seemed like the ultimate irony.

But here's the thing: That "rage-filled" session? It taught me more about breathwork than any blissed-out, love-and-light experience ever could. And trust me, those came later, along with a whole spectrum of other experiences.

This is a story about breathwork, but it's really a story about acceptance. About how the path to transformation isn't always paved with earth-shattering revelations and cinematic breakthroughs. Sometimes, it's about embracing the uncomfortable, the intense, and yes, even the seemingly negative emotions that bubble up when we least expect them.

In the world of breathwork, as in life, we're often chasing the high, the breakthrough, the moment when everything clicks into place. But what if the real growth happens when we learn to sit with whatever shows up, whether it's good, bad, or nothing at all?

The Rollercoaster of Breathwork Experiences

So, you've decided to dive into the world of breathwork. Maybe you're expecting a blissful journey into tranquility, or perhaps you're bracing yourself for an emotional tsunami. The truth is, and sorry about this analogy, breathwork is like a box of chocolates – you never know what you're gonna get. Let's unpack this grab bag.

First off, let's talk physical sensations. Imagine your body is a musical instrument, and breathwork is the virtuoso player. You might feel tingling in your fingers and toes, like you're being gently electrocuted by joy. Or perhaps waves of heat wash over you, making you wonder if you've accidentally wandered into a Bikram yoga class. Some people report feeling as light as a feather, while others feel like they're sinking into the earth. And let's not forget the classic "my hands are turning into lobster claws" sensation. Yes, that's a real thing.

Now, onto the emotional rollercoaster. Remember that rage I experienced in Bali? That's just the tip of the iceberg. Breathwork has a knack for bubbling up emotions you didn't even know were lurking in your psyche. You might find yourself laughing uncontrollably one minute and sobbing the next. Some people report feeling overwhelming love and compassion, while others come face to face with long-buried fears or resentments.

But wait, there's more! Let's not forget about the mental fireworks. Your mind might suddenly achieve crystal clarity, solving that problem that's been bugging you for weeks. Or you might find yourself lost in a fog of confusion. Some people report vivid visualizations – entire movies playing out behind their closed eyes. Others experience complete mental silence, a vacation from the constant chatter of the mind.

And then there's the experiences that make you go, "Did that really happen?" People have reported feeling like they're floating out of their bodies, encountering spirit guides, or reliving past lives. One person told me they spent an entire session as a tree, feeling the sun on their leaves and their roots deep in the earth. Whether you believe these experiences are literal or metaphorical, they're certainly interesting!

It’s hard to predict. You might have an intense, life-changing experience one day, and the next session could feel like you're just lying there breathing funny. This unpredictability is part of what makes breathwork so powerful – and so frustrating.

So why do we tend to judge these experiences? Well, we're human. We like to categorize things as good or bad, productive or wasteful. We bring our expectations to the mat, hoping for a specific outcome. But here's the secret: in breathwork, as in life, the magic often happens when we let go of those expectations and embrace whatever arises.

As we take this journey of acceptance, remember this: there's no such thing as a "good" or "bad" breathwork session. There's only your experience, in all its messy, beautiful, confusing glory. And every single bit of it is worth exploring

The Good: Embracing Positive Experiences (Without Getting a Big Head About It)

Ah, the good stuff. The breathwork sessions that leave you feeling like you've just had a spa day for your soul. These are the experiences we secretly hope for every time we lie down on that mat. Here’s something that a lot of people don’t talk about…sometimes, these blissed-out sessions can be just as challenging to navigate as the tough ones. Let me explain.

Picture this: You're in a breathwork session, and suddenly, it hits you. A wave of euphoria washes over you, and you feel like you're floating on a cloud made of cotton candy and good vibes. Your body is tingling with energy, and you swear you can feel love pouring out of your pores. You've cracked the code of the universe, you’ve reached enlightenment, and everything makes perfect sense. It's amazing, right?

These positive experiences in breathwork can take many forms. Some people report feeling a deep sense of peace and tranquility, like they've finally found the mute button for their chattering mind. Others describe moments of profound insight, where the solutions to their problems suddenly become crystal clear. And then there are those who experience a kind of ecstatic joy, a feeling of oneness with the universe that makes them want to hug trees and write poetry about the beauty of existence.

Now, you might be thinking, "Sign me up! What's the problem with that?" Well, here's the catch: Just like that triple chocolate fudge cake in the fridge, too much of a good thing can lead to a stomachache. Or in this case, attachment.

It's easy to get hooked on these blissful experiences. Before you know it, you're chasing that breathwork high, showing up to every session with the expectation of achieving enlightenment. And when it doesn't happen? Cue the disappointment, frustration, and the sneaking suspicion that you're somehow doing it wrong.

So, how do we embrace these positive experiences without getting caught in the trap of attachment?

Here are a few ideas:

1. Enjoy the moment, but don't cling to it. Treat each positive experience like a beautiful sunset – appreciate it fully while it's happening, but don't expect to see the same one tomorrow.

2. Practice gratitude. Instead of thinking, "This is amazing, I hope I feel like this every time," try, "I'm grateful for this experience, whatever comes next."

3. Stay curious. Even in the midst of bliss, maintain an attitude of exploration. What can you learn from this state?

4. Remember that every experience, whether conventionally "good" or "bad," has value in breathwork. That feeling of universal love is no more important than the frustration you felt in last week's session.

5. Use positive experiences as fuel for your practice, not as a goal. Let them inspire you to continue exploring, rather than becoming an endpoint you're trying to reach.

The art of accepting positive experiences in breathwork isn't about dampening your joy or downplaying amazing moments. It's about learning to surf the waves of bliss with the same equanimity you bring to the waves of challenge. It's about saying "yes" to the good stuff, while keeping your heart and mind open to whatever comes next.

So the next time you find yourself floating on that cloud of breathwork bliss, by all means, enjoy the view. Just remember – the real magic of this practice isn't in any one experience, but in learning to embrace them all.

The Bad: When Your Breath Becomes a Roller Coaster (And You're Afraid of Heights)

Remember that time in Bali when I turned into a human volcano of rage during what was supposed to be a blissful breathwork session? Well, buckle up, because we're diving into the deep end of the breathwork pool – the challenging experiences that make you wonder why you ever thought conscious connected breathing was a good idea in the first place.

Sometimes breathwork feels less like a spiritual practice and more like an extreme sport. You lie down expecting to float on a cloud of tranquility, and instead, you find yourself wrestling with the Loch Ness Monster of your subconscious. Fun times, right?

These challenging experiences can take many forms. For some, it's physical discomfort – your body decides to reenact every ache and pain you've ever had, plus a few new ones for good measure. You might feel like you're alternately freezing cold and roasting hot. Or perhaps your limbs start tingling so intensely you wonder if you've accidentally stuck your finger in an electrical socket.

Emotionally you might be fine one moment, the next you're sobbing uncontrollably. Anger might bubble up from nowhere, making you want to hit something. Fear can creep in, anything from a vague sense of unease to full-blown panic. And let's not forget the shame spiral – suddenly every embarrassing thing you've ever done is playing on repeat in your mind's eye.

For others, the challenge is mental. Your thoughts might race faster jumping from your grocery list to solving world hunger to wondering if you remembered to turn off the stove. Or you might encounter the void – a vast emptiness where your thoughts used to be. That feeling of dissolving in to nothingness can be terrifying.

And then there are the experiences that defy easy categorization. Past traumas resurfacing. Encountering parts of yourself you didn't know existed (and aren't sure you wanted to meet). Feeling like you're literally dying (spoiler alert: you're not, it just feels that way).

Now, your first instinct when face-to-face with these challenges might be to bail. And, you’d be totally forgiven for doing so. But here's where the magic happens: learning to stay.

I once met a woman named Sarah at a breathwork retreat in Devon we ran. Sarah described her first intense session as feeling like she was being turned inside out emotionally. "I wanted to run screaming from the room," she told me. "But instead, I just kept breathing. And you know what? On the other side of that intensity was the most profound sense of release I've ever experienced." Learning to sit with these feelings can help to stretch your window of tolerance in your everyday life. If you can sit with these feelings, if you can stay with them, then what else can you stay with when it’s not comfortable?

So how do we work with these challenging experiences? Here are a few strategies:

1. Remember, it's just a breath. No matter how intense things get, you're still just lying there breathing. You are in charge. Feeling too intense, slow down your breathing. Remind yourself that you are safe.

2. Get curious. Instead of labeling the experience as "bad," try asking, "What's happening here? What can I learn from this?"

3. Use anchoring techniques. Focus on physical sensations like the feeling of the mat beneath you or the air on your skin to ground yourself.

4. Embrace the suck. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is to fully feel whatever's coming up, no matter how uncomfortable.

5. Keep breathing. When in doubt, come back to your breath. It's always there for you, like a loyal friend who doesn't mind if you're a hot mess.

6. Know when to seek support. While facing challenges can be growth-promoting, if things feel too overwhelming, there's no shame in asking for help from a facilitator or therapist.

The art of accepting challenging experiences in breathwork isn't about becoming a masochist or ignoring your limits. It's about expanding your capacity to be with all parts of yourself and your experience. It's about saying "yes" to whatever arises, trusting that on the other side of that yes is growth, healing, and a deeper understanding of yourself.

So the next time you find yourself in a breathwork session feeling like you're falling apart, remember: it's all part of the process. You're not doing it wrong – you're doing it spectacularly human. And that, my friends, is where the real transformation begins.

The Nothingness: When Your Breathwork Session is Boring

So, we've talked about the highs, we've looked into the lows, but what about the... well, the nothing? You know, those breathwork sessions where you're lying there, breathing your heart out, and... crickets. No fireworks, no emotional tsunamis, not even a slight tingling in your pinky toe. Just you, your breath, and the growing suspicion that you might be the most boring person on the planet.

Welcome to the fascinating world of neutral breathwork experiences. And yes, I did just use "fascinating" and "neutral" in the same sentence. Stick with me here.

In our adrenaline-fueled, dopamine-chasing culture, we're conditioned to always expect something to happen. We want our meditation apps to tell us we've achieved enlightenment. We want our yoga classes to leave us feeling like we've been blessed by a thousand gurus. And we definitely want our breathwork sessions to be transcendent journeys into the depths of our psyche.

But sometimes, breathwork is just... breathing. And that's where things get interesting.

Neutral experiences, far from being failures, are actually opportunities. Opportunities to get comfortable with just being, without the constant need for stimulation or progress. In other words, it's like a gym for your "presence" muscles.

But let's be honest, sitting with nothingness can be surprisingly challenging. Your mind might start throwing a tantrum like a toddler "This is boring!" it whines. “I paid for this experience!” or "We should be having visions or releasing trauma or something!" And before you know it, you're mentally redecorating your living room or planning your grocery list, anything to escape the vast empty void of... just breathing.

So how do we work with these neutral experiences? How do we find the peace in the nothingness?

Here are a few ideas:

1. Embrace the boring. Instead of fighting against the lack of excitement, try leaning into it. Get curious about the boredom itself.

2. Focus on subtle sensations. Just because there are no fireworks doesn't mean nothing's happening. Can you tune into the tiny movements of your breath? The feeling of your body against the mat?

3. Practice contentment. Can you be okay with things exactly as they are, even if "as they are" feels like absolutely nothing?

4. Remember, neutral doesn't mean bad. A lack of intense experience doesn't equal a lack of benefit. Sometimes, the calmest waters run the deepest.

5. Use it as a mirror. Our reaction to nothingness can reveal a lot about our relationship with stillness and our need for constant stimulation.

6. Think of it as a palate cleanser. These neutral sessions might be giving your system a much-needed break between more intense experiences.

The art of accepting neutral experiences in breathwork isn't about forcing yourself to enjoy boredom. It's about expanding your definition of what's valuable. It's about recognizing that sometimes, the most profound growth happens in the spaces between the big moments.

So the next time you find yourself in a breathwork session that feels about as eventful as watching grass grow, remember: you're not doing it wrong. You're not boring. You're practicing the high art of being present, exactly where you are, exactly as you are. And in a world that's constantly demanding we be more, do more, experience more – well, that might just be the most radical thing you can do.

Practical Strategies for Acceptance: Your Breathwork Survival Kit

Alright, intrepid breathers, we've explored the good, the bad, and the nothing of breathwork experiences. Now it's time to equip you with your very own breathwork acceptance toolkit. Think of this as your Swiss Army knife for navigating the wild terrain of conscious connected breathing.

2. The "Yes, And" Technique

Remember your high school drama teacher insisting that the key to good improv is saying "Yes, and..."? Well, turns out it's not just for aspiring actors. Next time you're in a breathwork session and an unexpected sensation or emotion pops up, try mentally saying "Yes, and..." to it.

"Yes, I'm feeling inexplicably angry, and I'm curious about where this anger might be coming from."

"Yes, my left foot is tingling like crazy, and I wonder what other sensations I might notice if I keep breathing."

It's like being the world's most supportive audience member for your own experience.

2. The Body Scan

Acceptance starts with awareness, and nothing builds awareness quite like a good old-fashioned body scan. Here's a quick and dirty version:

• Start at your toes and work your way up to the top of your head.

• At each body part, take a moment to notice any sensations (or lack thereof).

• The trick is to observe without judgment. Your left knee is aching? Interesting! Your right elbow feels nothing at all? Fascinating!

Think of yourself as an alien scientist studying the strange creature that is your body.

3. The Naming Game

When emotions or sensations arise, try naming them. Out loud if you're brave (and not in a silent retreat), or just in your head if you prefer.

"Hello, darkness, my old friend."

"Oh, look, it's good old Tingle Fingers again."

It might feel silly at first, but there's something powerful about acknowledging what's happening without getting caught up in it. Plus, coming up with creative names for recurring sensations can be surprisingly fun.

4. The Surfer's Mindset

Imagine your breathwork session is an ocean, and you're a surfer. The waves (sensations, emotions, thoughts) will come whether you want them to or not. Your job isn't to control the ocean – it's to learn to ride the waves and not get crushed by them.

When a big wave of intensity comes, instead of tensing up and trying to fight it, see if you can relax and let it carry you. Trust that, like a wave and your breath, it will eventually crest and subside.

5. The Curiosity Compass

Whenever you find yourself getting caught up in judgment or resistance, try steering yourself back to curiosity.

Ask questions like:

"What's interesting about this experience?"
"Where do I feel this in my body?"
"If this sensation/emotion had a color/shape/texture, what would it be?"

Curiosity is like a secret backdoor to acceptance. It's hard to be judgmental when you're genuinely interested.

6. The Anchor Drop

When things get intense or overwhelming, it can be helpful to have an anchor – something to ground you in the present moment. This could be:

• The feeling of your back against the mat

• The sensation of air entering and leaving your nostrils

• A specific point of focus, like your belly rising and falling

• The feeling of the material of your t-shirt

Find your anchor before things get stormy, and practice returning to it regularly. It’s like having a safe place to come home to.

7. The Self-Compassion Sneak Attack

Let's face it, sometimes acceptance feels about as achievable as licking your own elbow. That's where self-compassion comes in. Try talking to yourself like you would a good friend:

"Wow, this is really intense. It's okay to struggle with this."
"You're doing great just by staying here and breathing."

It's not about forcing positivity, but rather about acknowledging the difficulty and offering yourself some kindness. Think of it as a warm, mental hug.

8. The "This Too" Mantra

Developed by meditation teacher Tara Brach, the "This Too" mantra is a simple but powerful tool for expanding your circle of acceptance.
Whatever arises in your experience, mentally add "This too":

"This joy too."
"This discomfort too."
"This boredom too."
"This resistance too."

It's a reminder that acceptance isn't about liking everything, but about making space for all of your experience.

You may have noticed the secret hiding in plain sight throughout our entire discussion: This isn't just about breathwork. The art of acceptance we're cultivating on the mat doesn't stay on the mat. It seeps into our daily lives, coloring how we relate to our emotions, our bodies, our relationships, and the world around us.

When we learn to accept the full range of our experiences in breathwork – to stay present with the pleasant, the unpleasant, and the neutral – we're training ourselves to do the same in life. We're developing the capacity to be with whatever arises, not because we always like it, but because we understand that our wholeness includes all of it.

So as you continue on your breathwork journey, remember this: Every breath is an opportunity to practice acceptance. Every inhale, every exhale, is a chance to say "yes, and" to your experience, exactly as it is. Sometimes that "yes" will come easily, accompanied by joy and insight. Other times, it'll feel like the hardest thing in the world. And sometimes, it'll be so subtle you'll hardly notice it's happening.

But with each breath, each moment of awareness, each small act of acceptance, you're not just changing your breathwork practice. You're changing your relationship with yourself and with life itself.

And that, my friends, is the real art of breathwork.

So breathe on, brave explorers. Accept the joys, embrace the challenges, find peace in the quiet moments, and remember – it's all just one breath at a time.

Jennifer Nolan