The Quiet Medicine of Breathwork: A personal reflection on healing through the breath
I didn’t always know how to breathe.
Of course, I was breathing—I was alive. But I didn’t know how to breathe in a way that made me feel held. That reminded me I was safe. That brought me back home to my body after years of rushing, gripping, overthinking, overdoing.
It wasn’t until I found breathwork that I truly felt what it means to be breathed. To soften. To let my chest rise like a tide and fall like a prayer. To let my breath unravel the tension I didn’t even know I was carrying.
Breathwork has changed my life—not in a dramatic, overnight transformation kind of way, but in a slow, deeply personal, often quiet kind of way. Like roots growing underground. Like light through closed eyelids.
And I’ve come to believe it’s one of the most powerful, accessible, and beautiful healing tools we have.
Let me tell you why.
A quiet tool hiding in plain sight
We spend so much time searching for healing in things outside of ourselves. And sometimes, yes, those things are important. But the breath—that ancient, rhythmic companion we’ve carried since birth—is always right here.
Breathwork is the practice of breathing consciously, often through specific patterns or rhythms, to affect how we feel physically, emotionally, and energetically. It’s been practiced for centuries across cultures: woven into ancient yoga, prayer, meditation, Indigenous ceremony, and modern therapeutic work.
Some styles are gentle and slow. Others are more active and intense. Some are used to soothe the nervous system. Others to stir deep emotion and energy. All of them invite one thing: awareness.
Because when we become aware of our breath, we become aware of ourselves.
Coming back to the body
I found breathwork during a season of my life where everything felt loud—internally and externally. My nervous system was overstimulated. My sleep was fragile. My thoughts were constantly swirling, and I had this deep, quiet ache in my chest I couldn’t explain.
I didn’t need more information. I needed to feel. I needed to come home.
So I started to breathe.
Just a few minutes a day at first—lying on my back, one hand on my belly, one hand on my heart. I’d inhale slowly through my nose, feel my body expand, and then exhale through my mouth, feeling the soft collapse of my chest. Some days I cried. Some days I felt nothing. Some days I slept better than I had in years.
Over time, breathwork became not just a practice, but a companion. A place I could return to when I felt overwhelmed, disconnected, or heavy.
The science of softness
There’s something tender and reassuring about knowing that breathwork isn’t just spiritual—it’s also biological. It works.
When we breathe deeply and slowly, we activate the parasympathetic nervous system—the part of our body responsible for rest, digestion, and healing. Our heart rate slows. Our blood pressure drops. Cortisol (the stress hormone) decreases. Our muscles release. Our thoughts soften.
It’s like pressing the dimmer switch on the overwhelm.
That’s why breathwork is such a powerful complement to other healing modalities—whether it’s meditation, yoga, sound healing, or Red Light Therapy. It brings the body into a receptive state, where all of these tools can work more deeply.
When I hold space for clients, we always start with the breath. It’s the most compassionate way I know to begin.
Emotions live in the breath
We often think healing means thinking through our pain. But more often, healing means feeling through it.
Our breath can help us do that safely.
Have you ever noticed that when you’re sad, your breath gets shallow? When you’re anxious, it speeds up? When you’re scared, you hold it entirely?
Our emotions live in our breath patterns. So when we shift the breath, we invite those emotions to rise, to be seen, and to be released.
I’ve had breath sessions where I cried without knowing why. Where laughter bubbled up like a spring. Where I felt waves of grief wash through me and leave me clearer than I’d been in months.
And none of it had to be explained. It just had to be felt.
A daily ritual, not a destination
Breathwork doesn’t have to be a grand event.
Sometimes it’s five minutes before your day begins—sitting in bed with your palms open. Sometimes it’s a quiet moment in the car before walking into work. Sometimes it’s part of your evening wind-down—candles lit, soft music playing, your breath guiding you into sleep.
There’s beauty in making breathwork a ritual—something steady, not perfect. Something personal and not performative.
In my own life, breathwork has become the thread that weaves my practices together. It grounds my yoga, steadies my meditation, deepens my sound healing experiences. It prepares my body for Holistic Wellness Coaching or Red Light Therapy by calming my mind. It softens the edges of grief, frustration, and overthinking in the most unexpected moments.
Some ways to begin
Here are a few of my favorite breath practices. They’re gentle, accessible, and you don’t need anything but your presence:
1. The 4–6 Breath
Inhale for 4 counts, exhale for 6.
Repeat for 3–5 minutes.
This helps regulate the nervous system and invites deep calm.
2. Box Breathing
Inhale 4, hold 4, exhale 4, hold 4.
This brings clarity and steadiness. A great pause between meetings or when anxiety is high.
3. Soft Belly Breath
Place your hands on your lower belly. Inhale and feel your belly rise. Exhale and feel it soften.
This breath is wonderful for emotional grounding and nervous system repair.
4. Active Circular Breathing
(This one is best practiced with a guide.) Inhale through the mouth, exhale through the mouth in a connected rhythm, no pause.
This can stir deeper emotional and energetic release, and can often be a part of Emotional Wellness Coaching sessions or therapeutic journeys.
What breathwork has taught me
Breathwork has taught me that healing isn’t always loud. That growth isn’t always visible. That presence can be soft, and powerful at the same time.
It’s taught me to listen—not just to what I think, but to what my body whispers when I slow down enough to hear it.
It’s taught me that I don’t need to chase peace. It’s right here, in the inhale. And in the exhale. And in the space between.
It’s taught me that I am not broken. I am just human.
And if you’re curious…
If you’re curious about breathwork, you don’t need to do anything grand. You just need to begin.
Start small. Start simple. Let your breath be your teacher.
Maybe that means attending a yoga class and noticing your breath. Maybe it’s lying on the floor with one hand on your chest and one on your belly. Maybe it’s joining a sound healing journey where the sound waves guide your breath. Maybe it’s trying Red Light Therapy after breath to help your body integrate.
Maybe it’s sitting with a practitioner—someone you trust—who can gently walk you through it. In Holistic Wellness Coaching, breathwork becomes a foundational thread in everything we explore. In Emotional Wellness Coaching, it becomes a bridge to feeling what we’ve learned to numb.
No matter how you begin, let it be enough.
A breath is a beginning
Every breath you take is a chance to come back.
To soften.
To feel.
To reconnect.
To remember that you are already whole.
This practice isn’t about fixing. It’s about allowing. About creating space inside yourself to hear the quiet truths you already know.
Breath by breath, you return.
To your body.
To this moment.
To yourself.
Closing invitation
I hope this reflection lands softly in your heart. That it reminds you how close your healing truly is. That you don’t have to earn rest or prove your pain to deserve ease.
Your breath is your birthright. Let it carry you.
And if you ever want to explore this practice more deeply—with community, with guidance, or with the support of other healing tools—The Wellness Space is here. Through meditation, yoga, sound healing, Red Light Therapy, Emotional Wellness Coaching, and Holistic Wellness Coaching, we’re creating a place where your nervous system can breathe, and your whole self can bloom.
You are welcome here. Just as you are. Always.
Love & Abundance,
-Alexis Stone