Before I started this practice, if you had asked me what “concentrating” looks like, I would have recalled childhood evenings sitting at the kitchen table, a tough homework assignment in front of me; forehead furrowed, one hand’s fingers tracing the words on the assignment page, and the other hand clenching a pencil tightly; my mind zooming over the details while coming up with the “right” answer.
Fast forward a few decades, when I am introduced to mindfulness of breathing. “Concentrate on your breathing,” I’m told. So initially, I approach that task in the same way I approached my homework. Sitting erectly. Breathing in. Breathing out. My mind zooming over the details, looking for the “right” answer.
But wait… this is breathing. Something I’ve been doing since the day I was born… Is there a “wrong” way to breathe? My mind wants to intervene… Here, try a longer in-breath. Okay now hold it a bit. Now exhale. A little longer. Okay. Now breathe in again. … Slow it down! Wait, I lost count. … Jeepers, I’m not very good at this: I better try harder.
Quite frankly, if my mind were in charge of my breathing, I think I’d be dead by now. 🙂
I’ve tried various techniques to bring concentrated attention to breathing. Different teachers/books suggest various ways to relax the mind’s wish to control the breathing. Some say to pay attention to the subtle feeling at the tip of the nose — because it’s so subtle there, it’s hard to control, and one really has to pay attention. Others say to feel the sensation of breathing in multiple areas – chest expanding/contracting, belly rising/falling, the temperature variations between the in-breath and out-breath — because the focus is on multiple things, the mind has to loosen its laser-like focus (and control) on one thing and take in a bigger view of the process; plus by paying attention to so many things, the mind will be less inclined to get bored and wander off to plan next summer’s vacation.
All those techniques are useful, but I’ve learned the most about concentrating on breathing from my dogs. As I snuggle with them on lazy weekend mornings, I watch them breathe: deep, slow, relaxed. As I concentrate on their breathing, I find that the control my mind wants to have on my own breathing relaxes too. So I can bring focus to my own sensations. I’m inspired by this poem from Thich Nhat Hanh:
In, Out.
Deep. Slow.
Calm. Ease.
Smile. Release.
Present moment, Wonderful moment.
There’s a kindness to this kind of concentration. A sense of happiness. Of peace.
Just this moment. Just this breath.
With best wishes for your first week of practice,
Andrea G