intake and release
This past week was emotionally charged, filled with interpersonal challenges, parenting challenges, highs and lows. I turned, once again, to, Yoga in the Kashmir Tradition: the art of listening by Billy Doyle. If you’ve attended my class recently, you’ve likely experienced the book’s influence on our practice. This book reflects on the teachings of the non dual philosopher, Jean Klein, who emphasizes experience over intellectualization. Each time I read it, the words dissolve off the page and into my body infusing me with a deep peace. Breath is central to the experience. When I feel overwhelmed, or when I’m desiring answers or direction, the breath becomes my teacher. And our breath reflects a microcosm of the Metal element: intake and release.
Intake: In Chinese medicine, the lungs are referred to as the "Gate of Qi" because they are the interface between the body and the environment. This function is not just physical but also involves the spiritual aspect of connecting with the external universe and internal body energy. They are the only yin organ that opens directly to the external world. An intake of air allows the external world to touch the internal body.
Release: The large intestine’s primary function in TCM is to eliminate what is unnecessary or toxic from the body. This process is not only physical but is also considered symbolic of the ability to let go of harmful patterns, emotions, or attachments that no longer serve us. A healthy large intestine function in TCM reflects the ability to let go on all levels. An exhale for the whole body.
To sit with the breath, to observe and sense the nuance of the inhalation, is to feel how the whole body responds, echoing like a ripple across a pond.
To feel the exhale all the way to its true end—finer than a wisp of smoke—is to embrace a complete emptiness, waiting for the natural prompt for the next breath.
When I take this pause, even for a minute or two, I connect to a deeper stream of awareness. A spaciousness widens between thoughts. Urgent preferences dwindle, revealing themselves as transient surface ripples and less important than I first imagined. To articulate this feels like describing an ever-shifting play of light—it must be experienced.
Or as Billy Doyle writes,
The breath can be used in two ways: firstly to slow down the mind and to direct the subtle energies of the body. Secondly, it can have a more direct, spiritual purpose, when we emphasize the space and the silence between each breath. Here the breath is a pointer to the ultimate; we are in identity with the timeless.
