I'm sitting in a room with about 20 other women at the Marsh, a fitness center in Minnetonka, where we have paid to breathe together for two hours.
This is my first "breathing workshop." I am completely out of my element, nearly $40 poorer and skeptical of what lies ahead. The carpeted room we are in is bright and covered in mirrors, reminiscent of an '80s jazzercise studio with sporadic Asian elements. The view of the surrounding marsh and greenery alone is enough to put me at ease, but I do my best to keep my focus.
During the workshop, a handful of women teach us different breathing techniques, specific ways to inhale, exhale and move our bodies in order to reach a certain mental state. Between each session, the group discusses the effects of the previous exercise and the science and mechanics of the next one.
The "sun breath" is meant to help me visualize pulling the sun's energy toward myself with my hands as I breathe in-sync with the movement. It makes me feel centered, but overly conscious of my arms. The session on forced laughter is meant to get me to breathe deep in my belly and, hopefully, trigger real laughter. But a room full of unprompted cackling just ends up giving me the heebie-jeebies.
The workshop is hosted by BreathLogic, a nonprofit "breath literacy" organization that teaches people — from refugees to housewives — how to "breathe better together" at workshops and retreats similar to this one.
But why would we spend money to learn how to breathe — something we've all done since birth?
The local breathing business
Mindful breathing (also called "controlled breathing") is nothing new. One of the earliest recorded breathing techniques, pranayama, is an ancient breath-focused yogic practice that originated in India. Other practices are well recorded in Hindu scripture and Buddhist teachings, and have since been incorporated in techniques used to deal with stress in everyday life.