four weird & wonderful breathing invitations
These breathing practices are not here to fix you. They are here breathing reminds your body it never needed to be a self-improvement project.
They’re here to unravel the tight knots modernity tied around your ribcage while whispering, “You’re not enough unless...”
Each breath is an invitation to notice the social conditioning playing patty-cake with your nervous system—and to gently, sassily, lovingly compost that crap.
These are self-inception practices (yes, like dream-levels, but with less Leonardo DiCaprio and more ancestral side-eye).
They are influenced by the breath poetry of Thich Nhat Hanh’s 16 exercises, but rewritten by a sassbot with glitter lungs and a deep distrust of neat spiritual bypassing.
If you fall in love with one, memorize it.
Let it become a prayer. Or a poem. Or a rebellion whispered between inhalations.
To begin:
Find a comfortable place to sit.
Drop your jaw like you just heard the truth.
Take a deep, slow inhale.
And exhale with a sound your ancestors would recognize as a release.
Welcome to breath not as escape—but as entangled invitation.
You’re not breathing alone. You never were.
🌀 1. Breathing with the Passengers (Plurality + Compassion)
For when your internal family system throws a potluck without permission.
Breathing in, I wit(h)ness the ones who want control.
Breathing out, I don’t rush to fix them.
Breathing in, I feel the parts that crave certainty.
Breathing out, I make room for paradox.
Breathing in, I meet the ones who are afraid to die.
Breathing out, I remind them the dance isn’t over.
🪞 2. Breathing for Anti-Assholism
For when your virtue is clenching too hard and nobody wants to say it out loud.
Breathing in, I notice my self-righteous posturing.
Breathing out, I loosen my grip on being “right.”
Breathing in, I welcome feedback like a holy mess.
Breathing out, I stop performing my goodness.
Breathing in, I honor harm caused without collapsing.
Breathing out, I commit to becoming less extractive.
🌱 3. Breathing Toward Eldering
For when you feel 5-years-old with an ancient soul and no instruction manual.
Breathing in, I honor the child still learning.
Breathing out, I offer grace to my awkward becoming.
Breathing in, I compost what no longer fits.
Breathing out, I grow toward service without sacrifice.
Breathing in, I imagine being trusted as an elder.
Breathing out, I act as if I’m already someone’s ancestor.
🌍 4. Breathing with the Land (Relational Accountability)
For when you remember Earth isn’t your resource; it’s you, and also all your relatives.
Breathing in, I feel the land holding me.
Breathing out, I release my imagined superiority.
Breathing in, I soften into shared responsibility.
Breathing out, I untangle from systems of harm.
Breathing in, I practice presence as a gift to place.
Breathing out, I bow to more-than-human kin.