My relationship with breath has been a profound teacher, a constant companion through diverse and demanding experiences. It began on the rugged slopes of Dolmi Barrack, a 6,041-meter peak in the Ladakh ranges. Up there, in the rarified air, each breath was a conscious effort, a lesson in lung expansion and the sheer preciousness of oxygen. Every inhale was a victory, every exhale a testament to the body’s resilience. That mountain taught me the value of drawing deep, deliberate breaths, a skill that would prove invaluable later in life.

Descending from those heights, I plunged into the underwater world of scuba diving. Here, the air wasn’t thin, but dense, pressurized, and contained within a cylinder. Each breath became a calculated risk, a delicate balance between the life-giving oxygen and the lurking dangers of nitrogen narcosis and oxygen toxicity. Running out of air became a very real threat, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the absolute necessity of controlled, mindful breathing. The lessons of Dolmi Barrack were reinforced tenfold. Deep, slow breaths weren’t just helpful; they were essential for survival.

Ironically, these extreme environments mirrored the wisdom I’d encountered in the quietude of yoga training. The deep, diaphragmatic breathing I learned on the mat – “breathing from the stomach,” as they say in the theatre – became my anchor. It was the same controlled, measured breathing I’d practiced on the mountain and beneath the waves. And it became my foundation on the stage. In the theatre, where projecting your voice and controlling your emotions are paramount, that deep, diaphragmatic breath, honed through years of practice, became the key to commanding attention and delivering a powerful performance.

From the thin air of Ladakh to the depths of the ocean and the spotlight of the stage, breath has been my constant guide. It’s brought me face-to-face with my limitations and shown me the incredible power of the human body. And it’s taught me the most fundamental truth of all: breath is life. It’s the first thing we do when we enter this world, the last thing we do before we leave, and the only thing we do continuously in between. It is the very essence of existence. And so, I share this lesson, not just as a mountaineer, a diver, or a performer, but as a breath instructor, urging you to pay attention to this vital force within you. Breathe deeply. Breathe slowly. Breathe consciously. It’s the simplest, yet most profound, act we can perform. It’s the key to navigating the peaks and valleys of life, both literal and metaphorical. Keep Breathing…