the heavy sigh

Over the last five years, I’ve seen a considerable uptick in breathing exercises. There's yoga and meditation. Apps named “Calm” and “Breethe.” Executives went from coffee to decaf to 30 minutes of breath work. And then a nude cannonball into Lake Michigan.

All of this got me thinking: How did we go for so long without breathing?

I’m being serious. I don’t think I heard about breathing until I was old enough to vote. The only thing close was the hippie substitute teacher who taught the “Take a deep breath, count to ten,” method or the choir teacher saying, “Breathe from the diaphragm.”

Yeah, you lost us at “breathe…“

There was no language for breathing. “Inhale” was what you did to a burger. “Exhale” was after a near-death experience.

After our car stopped at the edge of the cliff, we could finally EXHALE… And get back to INHALING our Big Macs.

I’m struggling to find the exact medical journal, but the dominant belief in the ‘90s was our lungs functioned like a bike tire; meaning you could legitimately run out of air. Get the wind knocked out of you. I'm OUT of breath. When songwriters penned, “I’ll love you till my final breath,” or “Take My Breath Away” they weren’t being poetic. That was certified medical language. Who knew how many breaths we had?

How did we survive?

Either:

A) Breathing is overrated (hard case to make)

or

B) We developed an adaptation, like fish with gills.

I ran in circles trying to figure this out. Couldn’t make sense of it. No breathing? Even the periodic table's symbol for oxygen is a zero.

But then, right in my moment of peak frustration and exhaustion, I let out a heavy sigh. Even though my lips were closed, enough air seeped through to fill a small inner tube.

That’s when it hit me: The most effective breathing exercise is not even a breathing exercise. It’s the heavy sigh.

The heavy sigh sounds like air leaving a tire. The duration lasts anywhere from three seconds to four days. It’s stunning how much air’s in storage. I’ve lost two pounds before during a heavy sigh. If the oxygen was swapped with helium, I'd be a hot air balloon.

The heavy sigh is its own language. Put one into Google Translate and it means anything from, “I’m frustrated,” to, “I’m super annoyed right now,” to a passive-aggressive, “I thought you were gonna put the dishes away, but I guess I’ll do it for you, because heaven forbid you help me out around here.” It’s incredibly versatile! People hear a heavy sigh in the distance and immediately hit their foreheads. “Crap, I was supposed to do the dishes, wasn’t I?”

I have nothing against the new-age breathing exercises. Nothing at all. But it seems like the goal is to bow into your practice, namaste your way into work-life balance. Achieve this constant state of chill. But is that realistic?

In contrast, the heavy sigh allows us to go, go, go. As fast as we can. Keep pushing as hard as humanly possible letting all of the stress, all the frustrations and pet peeves pile up. When we’re ready to pop, easy, let some air out of the tires.

So, next time you’re feeling stressed out, ditch the yoga class. No need for a mindfulness app. Or lunchtime Lamaze. Just take a deep breath. Keep your lips together. Imagine your flight being delayed and let out one big heavy sigh

There you go. You should be all set for another 10-12 years.