I meditate on an infrequent basis. As a child I innately practiced on a regular daily basis, though I was totally unaware of what it was I was doing. I just found I couldn’t survive if I did not connect with Whispers, a connection to my higher self.
Along the way, sometime during college, I lessened my connection of going within, where I found Whispers. I reckon coz my mother, my tormentor, was 1,200 miles away and embracing my newly found freedom to explore life without fear for the first time, meditation fell to the wayside. (Did I ever turn to the Higher connection in college? You bet! In one of my darkest moments, I called upon Him and He proved most powerful and merciful to me at that time. After which I interpreted my pain and suffering as a road to a stronger bonding belief to an even higher level with Whispers).
So where does breathe come in? After attending classes at Drepung Loseling Buddhist monastery for years in Georgia, where hearing the guided meditation began with the chime of the singing bowl, the words “concentrate on your breath” sort of flew over my head. I did not recognize how imperative this simple meaning of watching one’s breath is!
Now I will, metaphorically speaking, jump to the piano that fell on my head since I missed the tap on my shoulder in teaching me this lesson in a gentle way.
A couple of days ago I went to support a dear friend. The drive to her went without incident being it was street driving comfortable enough for a flat lander like me. Flatlander is a term I earned now that I live in mountainous Colorado; it describes a person who was raised on low altitude or a city. Having grown up in Manhattan and then South Florida constitutes me a flatlander.
What I am getting at is, how I got myself into trouble which specifically began with my return drive home. I simply pressed “Go home” on my GPS without looking at the route I was about to traverse since the original ride to the destination went fine.
Dusk approached as I found myself suddenly on 470, an unlit, highly trafficked highway in the mountains some of which parts are void of railings. I was suddenly being challenged by one of my fears; namely falling off a cliff. Oh, it is not unwarranted, I assure you! Fifty years prior, I was fifteen, on a summer trip around the United States, with a group of other high schoolers from South Florida travelling by bus. We were somewhere in the mountains of Colorado when the imbibed bus driver fell asleep behind the wheel and the front wheels went over the cliff. We were lucky a future police officer was amongst us. His alertness of the situation had him grab the steering wheel while simultaneously placing his foot on the brake pedal as he shouted for everyone, “Run to the back of the bus and sit low, so we don’t go flying off this cliff!” We were in our crouched positions for three long terrifyinging hours. Petrified grimacing faces of those moments came flooding into my mind along with the cries and outbursts, “how much longer?”
Fifty years later the fear that came over me then was being relived and worsened knowing I was at the helm of my own fate. I looked to my right and saw no barrier to catch me only a body of water as I traversed 35 miles an hour in a 65-mile highway. GPS was telling me what to do but I was overwhelmed and turned off the wrong place now for the third time. Panic was high, I told Siri to dial my neighbor. As I was describing my plight, my neighbor friend heard my irregular breathing and told me to “calm down”. Cars speeding by; no lights on the highway, mountains on one side, water on the other caused greater fright and my breathing became erratic, I wanted to pull off to a shoulder, but I saw no barricade and I fear-filled exclaimed, “my face is numb and now my neck is numb!”
My neighbor emphatically wisely advised, “call 911” so I did.
Within minutes the friendly and professional Morrison Firefighters were in view. Seeing the Aurora lights are on my bucket list, but I never thought I would be so happy to see these flashing lights! First thought was, Thank God, I am getting off this stinking mountain without injury to myself and anyone else. By this time my whole body was numbed and tingling, and one firefighter said something to me about the dispatcher mentioning I “was taking fast short breaths.” Soon enough I was transported by ambulance to the Emergency Room. I have an inoperable brain tumor, so a precautionary Cat-Scan was done before I was released.
But the important thing here is I finally received explanation for why my body goes numb. I had a feeling it had to do with nerves but how this numb and tingling could be avoided was not yet explained to me. I was thirty-eight the first time I experienced this uncomfortableness. I was under great duress in my life. Stress had me in a state of holding my breath as I forged forward the best I could to be the pillar of strength I needed to be for my children. I was not aware I held my breath. Luckily, when I felt light-headed, numbness or tingling, I was either in a place where I could grab a seat or just sit on the ground when the feeling came over my body. This happened in line when I was dollars short to pay for our groceries with my children by my side and it happened a couple of times at a doctor’s office too. It wasn’t until I lived in Georgia and I told the doctor “I sometimes feel faint, I get so I can’t respond, my body locks down, but I will know everything you say,” that this ailment was given a label. “You suffer from vasovagal response.” Knowing there was a name for my conditional told me I am not the only one.
Now here’s where we make a negative experience into a positive one: I asked this last ER doctor “What can I do if this happens again?”
She simply said, “breathe.”
“Doctor, can you explain what exactly is going on since this isn’t the first time this numbness happens?”
What I understood through weaved in medical jargon she said: “Holding your breath and hyperventilating will cause the tingling and numbness in your body. It’s about having more carbon monoxide in your body than oxygen. That’s why you were fine once you were relaxed. Next time just take time out and breathe.”
I replied, “And I will be proactive in my GPS usage and check the routes it shows me instead of following without caution.”
To readers and to myself I add, I want to be smart enough to learn the easy way- that’s the tap on the shoulder- like the monk telling us to “pay attention to your breath.” Easy is right there in our face, we just don’t catch the importance sometimes, and then we end up having to learn the hard way- the piano falling on our head- to learn a lesson. In this case, finding myself facing a fear of being out on a cliff’s edge.
And so there we have it, after suffering with this condition for almost thirty years I understand the importance of correct breathing. I share what I have learned coz I feel I had to learn everything on my own and I would have loved to have known this sooner. It is important for me to say I am not a doctor and I truly hope this reaches someone who needs this open platform to add any insights or shared knowledge free of judgement.
