The Anatomy of a Breath

Fellow Humans, hello! I set out this month, with all good intention, to write this column as a summary of the polyvagal nervous system response and how we can incorporate this information into our practices of self-care. Three thousand words later and no sense of end in sight, I was brought face-to-face with two important truths: 1) That I often gravitate toward the most complex tasks because they seem more “serious” and “scientific” and, 2) The process of writing itself was teaching me where I needed to go: clear and important foundational ideas. 

So today, I want to talk to you about breathing, specifically about the anatomy and function of the breath and how we can learn to work with our own breathing to take care of our nervous system and emotional well-being. Historically, I have minimized and skipped over breathing practices for much of my adult life, both in my role as psychologist and in my day-to-day strategies for managing anxiety and stress. I think many of us do. In my experience, breathing techniques are often offered in the spirit of wellness that makes me squirm: if you can just master your breath you can find peace and balance. It shows up in yoga classes, in mindfulness trainings, on smart-watches, and in self-help manuals. However, without a fundamental understanding of what is actually happening while breathing (and a lot is happening), these general instructions tend to disappoint and, in some cases, may actually increase anxious feelings — we will talk about this a bit later in the column. 

First, a brief overview of the Nervous System and how it impacts our bodies in relationship to stress. The Autonomic Nervous System (ANS) is a complicated communication network that takes in information about the environment (sensation) and generates motor responses (movement, heart rate, etc.) in response to those environmental cues. There are two parts or subsystems that make up the ANS. The Sympathetic Nervous System (SNS), when activated, is associated with the fight-or-flight response, including increased heart rate and breathing pace, surges of adrenaline, and dry-mouth. A healthy SNS response means we can be alert to our environment and body cues, use energy for goal-directed actions, and act quickly when necessary. The Parasympathetic Nervous System (PNS) is associated with “rest and digest” functions; when activated the Parasympathetic Nervous System slows the heart rate and blood pressure, activates digestion processes, and generally supports feelings of calm and safety. A healthy PNS response means we can heal and rejuvenate, feel safe and peaceful, and have access to a broader range of cognitive and emotional processes. We need both functioning well to feel balanced, of course—the Sympathetic Nervous System acts as the accelerator, the Parasympathetic as the brakes.

Now, let’s break down the breath. The process of inhaling activates the Sympathetic Nervous System, and the process of exhaling activates the Parasympathetic Nervous System. This is important information because different styles of breathing will directly impact the type of regulation you are trying to achieve. Anyone who has had a panic attack well understands the physical sensation of feeling unable to breathe, which leads to gasping or gulping big breaths of air, a reasonable survival response but a terrifying feeling. However, when we consider that big inhales are activating the sympathetic arm of the nervous system, the intensity of the inhales can fuel the fire. Anxiety is already the emotional expression of an activated sympathetic nervous system. When feeling depressed or lethargic, breathing often reverses this pattern. Shallow inhales and longer exhales are typical when we are feeling slowed down, and this imbalance of exhaling breath can over-involve the parasympathetic arm, even if energy or activation is needed at that time. 

When offering support in exploring our breathing habits, I always stress that this is important work to do when we are already feeling calm and focused so that there is not pressure to enact a new strategy in the middle of emotional flooding. The midst of a panic attack is no time to try a new technique (and good luck trying to remember any new information in that state, regardless!). Furthermore, many people, particularly folks with trauma histories, can find that focusing on the physical body activates panic during breathing or meditation exercises. If you find the experience of “turning inwards” activating, you are not alone. I encourage you to try the same exercises but to focus “outward” — like watching a seconds-hand on the clock to keep track of time, or tapping your finger on something that makes a noticeable sound. Here are a few exercises that I recommend to start. 

1. Tune in to your own breathing without trying to change anything. Notice where you tend to “emphasize” the breath pattern — whether you inhale longer or shorter than the exhale, and how long you tend to “hold” your breath between the two actions. No judgement here, just information about your patterns. 

2. Purposefully activate your sympathetic nervous system — take long, deep inhales, pause, and then really blow out your exhale in a quick breath. Repeat several times and notice your body sensations and mood. Do you feel energized? Focused? Or lightheaded and anxious?

3. Purposefully activate your parasympathetic nervous system — take regular or slightly shorter inhales, hold briefly, and then really exaggerate your exhale, trying to exhale for at least twice as long as the in-breath. Notice your body sensations and any feelings that come up now.

4. Practice this a few times a week and start to vary your techniques depending on what you are learning about your own body and its responses. I have learned that I am a chronic breath holder, and remembering to practice long-exhalations during the day feels like a mini-nap in terms of a reset. 

5. Incorporate your personalized practice during the day, both when it feels “necessary” and also if you just remember, as a continued way of supporting your body.

I do want to spend a moment briefly attending to the other realization I opened with today, the one about equating “complexity” with seriousness and expertise. I uncover, every day, new ways that I have absorbed and enact — and am therefore obligated to unlearn — the practices of academia and institutions that reflect oppressive power-dynamics, colonized thinking, and intellectualization. This is serious business; an ethical practice of psychology or any mental health care requires us to think about this in a focused way. So please join me next month for the first of a two-part series on Liberation Psychology, how important it is that mental health care functions as a liberatory practice rather than as a system of control, and why the field overall often has that equation backwards. 

Until then, I wish you all good, balanced breaths and happy nervous systems.