The Loud Breather Next to Me

The person next to me breathes really loud and its bothers my practice, how can I tell him to shush up?

Often, when we prepare for our practice, we tend to the details and attempt to compose a perfect scenario for everything we are about to do.  We find the perfect spot in the room to lay down our mats, lining up the edges of the mat with the floor-boards, carefully placing our yogi-toes towel down with the orange circle right in the front and center of our mats, and with our water bottle to the side and our wardrobe appropriately fluffed, we are then ready to begin our journey into the world of spontaneous meditation.  We step into downward facing dog, maybe pedal our legs a few times, start to connect to our own breath and then just like that we are pulled right out of the moment by the sound of our neighbor’s breath.  And in a matter of moments, that breath, the breath of our neighbor, becomes the object of our complete and undivided attention.  We disconnect from ourselves and our own practice and allow the sound of another’s breath carry us away into perhaps frustration, irritation and distraction.

Perception is reality.  The way we perceive things is the way that they exist for us.  So, what if, instead of perceiving this as an annoyance or distraction, you shift your perception of it and identify it as an opportunity to truly focus your awareness and attention inside yourself?

When we empower our senses to control our thoughts and our minds, we often disengage from the present moment.  We get carried away and we lose the opportunity to fully embrace the now.  Can you begin to draw your senses inward and allow the mind to control the senses instead of enabling the senses to control the mind?  By focusing more profoundly on your breath and your own deep inner experience instead of allowing your awareness to be pulled outside of yourself, you can liberate yourself bit by bit from the control of external stimuli.

In this context, the breath reminds me of the conductor in an orchestra.  When the attention of the musicians is thoroughly and utterly focused on the conductor, a magical, melodious harmony is created.  There is cohesion and peace and unanimous purpose. This is similar to what happens when we practice Pratyahara and enable our minds to control our senses. Now imagine if there were ten different conductors for one orchestra and they each were doing their own thing and conducting according to their own preferences.  There would be chaos and discord and cacophony.  Attention would be scattered all over the place.  This is similar to what can happen when we allow the senses to control the mind.  Our thoughts jump all over the place, from one external stimulation to the next, and we miss the opportunity to be fully connected and fully present.

Peace doesn’t mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, hard work or distraction.  It means to be in the midst of all of those, to dwell in the middle of confusion and imperfection, and still be calm in your heart, gentle in your mind and connected to your breath.

Much Love,

Jennifer