SEDONA: PART X
I drove up to Debra and Tom's house around 2:00 for my breathwork session. They lived in this incredibly hip, one-story home right in Sedona. The houses in town are great because they are all the same color - kind of terra cotta-ish - and blend in with the rocks.
Tom brought me into a meditation room where there were plants, candles and a thick mat on the floor. I was instructed to lie down on my back, and he offered me a blindfold. Yeah I know, this sounds kinda kinky, but trust me -- it was NOTHING like that.
Connective breathing is exactly as it sounds: you connect your breath - taking deep breaths through your nose, exhaling through your mouth - until you literally alter your state of consciousness. I suppose it's like controlled hyperventilation?
I wasn't sure what to expect. That was probably a good thing cause otherwise I may have tried too hard to achieve what it was I was supposed to. Thinking back on it all now, I wasn't told what each session would do for me until afterwards, when I discussed each one with my guides, and even later when I went home and Googled.
Tom sat in a chair beside me, and told me that he'd be there only to remind me to breathe. He said that, should I get scared by anything that I was seeing, I could just return to breathing normally and bring myself out of the trance-like state. He started up some music of different tempos and varied styles, and told me that I'd know when to come out of it when I heard a specific song which began by naming different angels.
I can't completely recall all that happened to me during that experience. I know that I fell into an altered state of consciousness. As the music changed, different scenes of a life - my life? - played out before my eyes. At one point, I was in the desert on a mountain ledge. At one point, I was in a county - India maybe? - with people all around me. I remember the pruney face of a very old man, laughing. I remember the sound of children laughing. It was like dreaming, though I never fell asleep.
When I heard the song calling the angels and at Tom's suggestion, I allowed my breathing to return to normal. I opened my eyes and realized the blindfold was wet and that I had been crying. I felt as if I had been somewhere far away. Not a place -- but a time.
"Where did you go?" Tom asked.
"I have no idea," I replied. I began telling him about some of the images I remembered. Things which have since left my memory, although I can still remember the feeling I was left with.
"How long do you think you were gone?" he asked.
"I dunno - ten, fifteen minutes?" I guessed.
"You've been under for an hour and a half," he smiled. And sure enough, it was nearly 4:00.
Recently, I've been trying to find stuff on the internet about breathwork. Some sites have said that through connective breathing, you are accessing your biological history - from the day you were born and before that, even. I don't know if that's what I experienced. Whatever it was for me, it was amazing. I'd be interested in doing it again.