Something strange happens when people close their mouths and begin to breathe. Breath is the tapping in point. The map begins to be drawn out. The body begins to relax. The stories become awake. Often we don't allow ourselves the opportunity to circulate the breath, expose the stories. Immediately inserting words, suffocating the experience, ending the feeling that is coming up, that becomes habitual. But what happens when you keep riding that breath, watching it and feeling it. Allow it to wash away the tar covering all the parts that have been missing out on the breath. Circulating, flowing and then soaking in the afterglow. The exposure, the light beaming down on this memory, this sensation. What do you feel here? Before the words there is a feeling. Can we sit here? Slowly we begin to uncover beneath the feeling, it cracks and melts away.
Writing from this place, this place of discovery and of witnessing the feeling and the truth beneath that feeling-- that is what we do in "Writing with the Breath." We write from a place of honesty and flow, allowing the words to move from the heart, directly and with no filter. We put pencil to paper so our stories can emerge as they want to be told, rather than as we want them to be told. We let the writing write us. Because when we witness and process our stories with full consciousness and honesty, that's when we are able to tap into our truth.