Article submitted to Take Me Outside teacher learning package (Sept. 2022):
“Observe me, says the Breath, and learn to live effortlessly in the Present Moment.
Feel me, says the Breath, and feel the Ebb and Flow of Life.
Allow me, says the Breath, and I’ll sustain and nourish you, filling you with energy and cleansing you of tension and fatigue”
Donna Martin (poem excerpt from ‘The Breath is Life’s Teacher’)
It was a brittle winter morning. In the December twilight, my body jittered in anticipation of a World Cup skate sprint event in Davos, Switzerland. Self-doubt made the moment before my start even more restrictive than my spandex race suit. To counter the pressure, I placed the palms of my hands over my belly and drank the cool air in then exhaled out.
“Just…. this….just ….this….,” I repeated to myself with each rise and fall of my belly.
Breath by breath, the tension in my chest dissolved and my nervous muscles softened. The cloud of breath hung suspended in the outside air and reminded me of life’s wonder; I felt connected to a super power sense of purpose. As a nordic skiing athlete, I trained with my breath to align body, mind and moment for peak performance.
In my life beyond sport, the breath continues to share many teachings. As a budding Environmental Educator, I no longer need to count the amount of heartbeats in a minute or track my training. Nonetheless, the breath is an incredible teacher in the principles of reciprocity; of give and take; of ebb and flow; of human connection. If we are fortunate to inhale gulps of clean air, we are actively participating in Earth’s processes.
In a simple yet profound act, the breath is an environmental educational resource that can turn a moment of tension and human-nature disconnect to ease, understanding and belonging. Through my previous work at a nature connection program in Canmore, Alberta, Forest Play, I engaged with breath as a learning resource as one to both calm childrens’ minds and as a way to give thanks to the plants for their offerings. Gifting breath to the plants we harvested, from Yarrow to Pine Needles, is a simple act of offering thanks.
In this field of education and time on Earth, it can feel disempowering to learn of the extensive damage humans cause on Earth. Simple attention to the breath, however, is a profound antidote to the negative news because it reminds us of our active participation, belonging and the immense wonder of being alive. When we feel this connection, we remember that human and nonhuman health are inseparable. Deep breaths can do wonders.
One hot summer day in July, a herd of five year-olds bolted past me with stained cheeks and wild strawberries in hand. The child leading the charge screeched to a halt like a Bison might do upon discovering a plummeting cliff below. The children trailing closely behind then rammed into the halted child. Wham!
“I forgot!” she exclaimed to her confused and bumped friends. Without explaining, she ran back to the spot where they had just harvested the tiny, plump berry bombs. She then knelt down to the ground, cupped her hands over her mouth, caught an exhalation and lowered her hands to release her breath to the strawberry plant below whispering, “thank you”.
In one moment, she demonstrated her plant identification knowledge, the principles of reciprocity, photosynthesis processes, empathy and gratitude.
Whether on the startline of a World Cup race, in the confines of a classroom or exploring a field of wild strawberries, the breath continues to accompany and teach me.
The next time your chest is tight or your students are rambunctious, I invite you to fill your belly with a breath while thinking “just” and exhale thinking “this”. Breath by breath, I hope you too will experience the web we all play an important role in.