To begin, sit tall enough to breathe, without becoming athletic.
Whatever that looks like for you.
When you are ready, softly close your eyes.
With your eyes closed, feel the breath as it already is.
First, simply noticing inhale and exhale. No counting yet.
The weight of gravity. The ribs moving, if they will.
What else do you notice in the weather of the breath?
If a four-count feels easy, you may try it. If not, stay natural.
Four easy inhales, if comfortable. Four easy exhales. No force.
No heroics. We wake the breath. We do not whip it.
Let the ribs widen sideways, if they can, without strain.
And letting the count go if dizziness appears.
Continue now with a natural breath, as well as the body.
If you feel lightheaded, stop the count. Return to ordinary air.
What do you notice behind the eyes now?
Just observe. Accept. Gentle work is enough breathwork.
Allow the room. The lungs can be awake without a contest.
Morning breath is inner weather stretching, not a race.
There is nothing to conquer. Only air, arriving and leaving.
If the mind turns this into sport, return to a kind count, or none.
Being connected to breath, body, and a pace you can keep.
You are awake in the lungs, not only in the clock.
Let attention travel back. Breath finding its own size.
Open your eyes. The day can be breathed, not conquered.