Who is the Breather?
An Interview with Richard Rosen
In this interview, Richard Rosen shares his expertise on pranayama from the perspective of a practitioner and a master teacher. He explains the importance of connecting with one’s authentic breath and promises that developing a practice can be meditative and transformative.
Integral Yoga Magazine (IYM): In your classes you pose the question, “Who is the breather?”
Richard Rosen (RR): Yes, it’s like a koan. I don’t ask my students to answer that question or to even think about the answer, but to let the answer emerge through the breath. The breath emerges on various levels, and we see there’s a physical, psychological and spiritual breather. We can talk about the physical level fairly easily. How do you feel when you inhale and exhale? You can’t use the brain to figure that out. You need insight into your personality as a breather. So, I tell my students: “Don’t think about the answer, just ponder the question.” I think that asking, “Who is the breather?” is the same as asking, “Who am I?” That’s a process that keeps going on. There’s no ultimate answer. I’m continuously looking and asking in order to look at myself and figure out who I am. Watching my breath and watching myself, as the breather, is a two-pronged practice. The breather is a message of who I am. If I listen carefully to the breather, I can start to get some feel. I can listen physically to the sound and also to what comes up from the breathing—meaning, listening in a figurative sense. In the beginning, I don’t think most students grasp the transformative power of breath. Because we breathe from the moment we’re born to the moment we die, we don’t recognize the transformative effect on the body and mind. My practice has been going on for a good, long while—25-plus years. I wish I could say I have some very deep insights but I’m still a work in progress. It’s been a very useful thing to think about the breath. It helps me look at myself day after day, to keep aware and to stay conscious about what I’m seeing, what I’m doing and my daily behavior.
IYM: What does it mean to “control” the breath?
RR: I don’t like to use the word “control” in reference pranayama. I know that the Sanskrit term for pranayama is often translated as, “control of the breath.” But, I think the breath has an innate intelligence. If we allow it to lead us in the practice, we can learn a lot about ourselves in the process. I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and control the breath. Control comes from the brain and the ego. Breathing is a deeper process; we need to cooperate with the breath. I like to think about pranayama as having three steps. The first step is conscious breathing—you don’t really do anything except to observe the breath. Do that for a good, long while so you get to physically know yourself—how you breathe, your breathing idiosyncrasies. You have an identity as a spouse, a friend, a worker, but you also have an identity as a breather. You have to understand a bit about that breather before you do anything about it. This first stage is very important.
Next, is to begin to work with the breath. Once you have a basic sense of your identity as a breather, you can begin to work with the breath using traditional, time-tested techniques—whatever your Yoga school teaches. The third stage is spontaneous breath, in which a technique isn’t needed. It’s like crossing the river with a boat—once you get to the other side, you don’t need the boat anymore. That’s what Patanjali called “the fourth breath.” He said there are three everyday phases: inhalation, exhalation and the pause between the two. The fourth breath is the breath that comes on its own. There’s nothing you can do; you have to wait for it to come to you.
IYM: What else should we know?
RR: Initially, when students begin the breathing practice, they mostly attune to the physical aspect: how the breath feels. I also ask them to watch the speed, the quality of the movement—is it smooth or rough? Look into the torso as if it were an empty container and you could breath from the groin to the top of the shoulders. It’s like a visualization, and it gives you a feeling for the freedom of your breathing—whether you are opening to the breath or whether there are areas of the body inaccessible to the breathing. All modern asana practice begins by first looking at the body and this also applies to pranayama. Once you have a sense of yourself as a physical breather, you can begin to understand the emotional component of the breath. I ask students, “What is it like to inhale? Do you grab on or do you inhale gracefully? When you exhale, do you push away or do you let go of the breath gracefully? It’s important to be conscious of how you inhale and exhale. A lot of people grab the inhalation, which I compare to raga (desire). I compare pushing the breath away, during an exhalation, as dvesha (aversion). It’s difficult to get a sense of this, as we are accustomed to our own breathing. We have to step back in an objective way, which is artificial, because consciousness and breath are two sides of same coin.
IYM: What do you mean by that?
RR: Patanjali says consciousness is in a state of movement and continual fluctuation; it’s irregular; sometimes smoother than other times. This is reflected in our breath. If you are disturbed, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. When you start watching your breath, in the first stage I described, the quality of your breathing somewhat reflects your consciousness. When you begin to observe your breathing, it shines a light of awareness and that, in itself, is a transformative act. You can’t watch your breath without changing the breath. When you start to watch it in a very consistent way, the breath itself begins to slow down. When it slows, it begins automatically to smooth itself and that affects the brain, which then slows and smooths down. That allows you to observe the breath more closely which in turn slows and smooths the breath, then the brain and it continues to goes around circularly in this manner.
IYM: Would you talk more about visualizing the torso as an empty container?
RR: I ask students to visualize their torsos as if each one is a pot. An old Hatha book—the Gheranda Samhita—calls this Ghata Yoga (pot Yoga). I think sage Gheranda was referring to the whole body, but I have adapted it to just the torso. I have students visualize themselves, hollowing out the torso, removing all the organs in that area and then pretending they can breathe into the entire space of the torso, from the groin to shoulders. When they do this, they typically experience that the inhalation is moving in certain areas of the pot but not in others. Typically, the lower belly, upper chest and back of the torso are un-breathed. In addition to watching the breath, which slows and smooths it, I also ask them not to try to move breath into unbreathed areas, but to shine their awareness into those areas. If they do this practice regularly, the breath spontaneously moves into the darker areas. So, coming back to the idea of pranayama not being about breath control, it’s about allowing it to move on its own volition into areas that are being illuminated by consciousness.
I recommend a daily practice but, if not possible, at least four to five times a week for 15 to 20 minutes. The more you can do, the more useful over time. It’s like playing piano—if you want to progress, you have to practice. When people take up the piano, they will naturally think, “I have to practice.” It is the same with our Yoga practice. With practice, the breath smooths, slows and becomes fuller and more complete.
IYM: Would you talk about the pause between breaths?
RR: It’s extremely important to stay very conscious of the pauses, particularly at the end of the exhalation. I have students extend that pause—not breath holding per se, but you come to a rest and linger there for a few extra seconds. If you observe very carefully during that time, you’ll see the thoughts come to a complete stop. I compare that to a movie screen. When you go into a movie theater and sit back in the chair, waiting for the film to begin, you look up and what you see is a blank screen. When the movie comes on, you forget the screen. But, the picture wouldn’t exist if not for the screen. Yet, the screen isn’t affected by what is projected—it doesn’t matter if it’s a western or thriller or comedy—the screen stays the same. The pause at the end of an exhalation is the screen upon which the breath is projected. So, I ask my students to be aware of the breath moving on the screen of stillness. When you inhale and exhale, can you do it in a way so as not to disturb the underlying stillness.
IYM: You talk about “authentic breath.” What do you mean?
RR: It’s what your breathing would be like if you didn’t have a lot of obstacles in the way. We block our own breath. The first step in conscious breathing is getting out of your own way. We watch ourselves to figure out what is blocking authentic breathing: Tension, stress, physical misalignment have to be acknowledged before you move on in your breathing practice. This is why you want to do asana practice in conjunction with pranayama practice—it helps you learn about alignment and to release stress. Everyone has their own authentic breath—they just have to get out of their own way in order for it to emerge. You can’t do it directly; you peel off certain layers, and it comes out. One reason to practice pranayama is so you can become aware of your breathing, not just during your practice but throughout the day. That’s why we do Yoga— to become aware of ourselves. My favorite motto is a quote from Sri Aurobindo: “All life is Yoga.” We use our formal practice to expand our self-awareness throughout the day.
IYM: What role does the Yoga or pranayama teacher play in this process?
RR: Teachers have a role to play beyond the classroom. We need to be willing to make ourselves available to students when needed. Asana and pranayama may seem benign but these are transformative practices and you have to be ready to take responsibility as a teacher to help students navigate challenging times. It’s important for a serious student—whether they come one or two times a week or they have a home practice, to have a professional relationship with a teacher. They get to know the teacher and the teacher gets to know them so, when they encounter difficulties in practice, they have someone to whom they can turn. I think it’s important for teachers to understand they don’t have to be therapists but to be resources to whom students can come for help and advice.
I tell my students that, when they are having a hard time, it’s often a sign they are making progress. It’s not a time to be discouraged but to be encouraged. Some of the old forms are breaking down. These forms, patterns and habits are living creatures, and like all living and breathing creatures, they often struggle to stay alive. You have to convince them they have a place of economy in your being—it’s just that they have to change and accept new roles. It’s important to help students understand progress isn’t always what they think it is. It’s not always feeling better, but feeling worse. The mark of a true student is that they can stay with their practice even if things aren’t going well.
IYM: You have talked about taking “refuge in the breath.” What do you mean by that?
RR: For many, breathing practice goes through a process, a series of steps. The first usually is: I don’t want to do this practice; it’s hard and there’s no payback. I put in all this time and effort, yet I don’t see any change. It’s natural to feel that way. But breathing is a lot subtler than asana, and takes more time for most people. You have to be patient and put in the time. The first stage of any breathing practice is what one my teachers used to call mule work—you have to do it! I don’t think you need to push yourself, but if you stay with it, your practice becomes a little less onerous and starts to become interesting—even if it’s not much fun. Gradually, you start to feel something and begin to get curious and want to explore. After that, it becomes even more interesting and you don’t have a problem getting up in the morning to practice. Then, it actually becomes enjoyable. You do it every day because it feeds and sustains you. That’s what I mean by breath as your refuge. Usually, it takes some time to get there on a consistent basis. Yogis talk about having adhikara—the ripeness or qualification for this practice. I tell my students not to beat themselves over the process. Everyone ripens at their own rate. If you have to continually fight yourself over the process, then maybe you are not ready—wait for another time.
When I’m feeling overly stimulated, or angry or aggravated, I can use my breathing to calm things down. When I feel tired or low energy I can often use it to pick myself up. It’s become a refuge for me. I think its unfortunate in American Yoga that pranayama is undervalued. We don’t include it enough in our classes. That will hopefully change, as Americans become more sophisticated as Yoga practitioners. I think pranayama is the core of Yoga practice.
An Interview with Richard Rosen
In this interview, Richard Rosen shares his expertise on pranayama from the perspective of a practitioner and a master teacher. He explains the importance of connecting with one’s authentic breath and promises that developing a practice can be meditative and transformative.
Integral Yoga Magazine (IYM): In your classes you pose the question, “Who is the breather?”
Richard Rosen (RR): Yes, it’s like a koan. I don’t ask my students to answer that question or to even think about the answer, but to let the answer emerge through the breath. The breath emerges on various levels, and we see there’s a physical, psychological and spiritual breather. We can talk about the physical level fairly easily. How do you feel when you inhale and exhale? You can’t use the brain to figure that out. You need insight into your personality as a breather. So, I tell my students: “Don’t think about the answer, just ponder the question.” I think that asking, “Who is the breather?” is the same as asking, “Who am I?” That’s a process that keeps going on. There’s no ultimate answer. I’m continuously looking and asking in order to look at myself and figure out who I am. Watching my breath and watching myself, as the breather, is a two-pronged practice. The breather is a message of who I am. If I listen carefully to the breather, I can start to get some feel. I can listen physically to the sound and also to what comes up from the breathing—meaning, listening in a figurative sense. In the beginning, I don’t think most students grasp the transformative power of breath. Because we breathe from the moment we’re born to the moment we die, we don’t recognize the transformative effect on the body and mind. My practice has been going on for a good, long while—25-plus years. I wish I could say I have some very deep insights but I’m still a work in progress. It’s been a very useful thing to think about the breath. It helps me look at myself day after day, to keep aware and to stay conscious about what I’m seeing, what I’m doing and my daily behavior.
IYM: What does it mean to “control” the breath?
RR: I don’t like to use the word “control” in reference pranayama. I know that the Sanskrit term for pranayama is often translated as, “control of the breath.” But, I think the breath has an innate intelligence. If we allow it to lead us in the practice, we can learn a lot about ourselves in the process. I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and control the breath. Control comes from the brain and the ego. Breathing is a deeper process; we need to cooperate with the breath. I like to think about pranayama as having three steps. The first step is conscious breathing—you don’t really do anything except to observe the breath. Do that for a good, long while so you get to physically know yourself—how you breathe, your breathing idiosyncrasies. You have an identity as a spouse, a friend, a worker, but you also have an identity as a breather. You have to understand a bit about that breather before you do anything about it. This first stage is very important.
Next, is to begin to work with the breath. Once you have a basic sense of your identity as a breather, you can begin to work with the breath using traditional, time-tested techniques—whatever your Yoga school teaches. The third stage is spontaneous breath, in which a technique isn’t needed. It’s like crossing the river with a boat—once you get to the other side, you don’t need the boat anymore. That’s what Patanjali called “the fourth breath.” He said there are three everyday phases: inhalation, exhalation and the pause between the two. The fourth breath is the breath that comes on its own. There’s nothing you can do; you have to wait for it to come to you.
IYM: What else should we know?
RR: Initially, when students begin the breathing practice, they mostly attune to the physical aspect: how the breath feels. I also ask them to watch the speed, the quality of the movement—is it smooth or rough? Look into the torso as if it were an empty container and you could breath from the groin to the top of the shoulders. It’s like a visualization, and it gives you a feeling for the freedom of your breathing—whether you are opening to the breath or whether there are areas of the body inaccessible to the breathing. All modern asana practice begins by first looking at the body and this also applies to pranayama. Once you have a sense of yourself as a physical breather, you can begin to understand the emotional component of the breath. I ask students, “What is it like to inhale? Do you grab on or do you inhale gracefully? When you exhale, do you push away or do you let go of the breath gracefully? It’s important to be conscious of how you inhale and exhale. A lot of people grab the inhalation, which I compare to raga (desire). I compare pushing the breath away, during an exhalation, as dvesha (aversion). It’s difficult to get a sense of this, as we are accustomed to our own breathing. We have to step back in an objective way, which is artificial, because consciousness and breath are two sides of same coin.
IYM: What do you mean by that?
RR: Patanjali says consciousness is in a state of movement and continual fluctuation; it’s irregular; sometimes smoother than other times. This is reflected in our breath. If you are disturbed, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. When you start watching your breath, in the first stage I described, the quality of your breathing somewhat reflects your consciousness. When you begin to observe your breathing, it shines a light of awareness and that, in itself, is a transformative act. You can’t watch your breath without changing the breath. When you start to watch it in a very consistent way, the breath itself begins to slow down. When it slows, it begins automatically to smooth itself and that affects the brain, which then slows and smooths down. That allows you to observe the breath more closely which in turn slows and smooths the breath, then the brain and it continues to goes around circularly in this manner.
IYM: Would you talk more about visualizing the torso as an empty container?
RR: I ask students to visualize their torsos as if each one is a pot. An old Hatha book—the Gheranda Samhita—calls this Ghata Yoga (pot Yoga). I think sage Gheranda was referring to the whole body, but I have adapted it to just the torso. I have students visualize themselves, hollowing out the torso, removing all the organs in that area and then pretending they can breathe into the entire space of the torso, from the groin to shoulders. When they do this, they typically experience that the inhalation is moving in certain areas of the pot but not in others. Typically, the lower belly, upper chest and back of the torso are un-breathed. In addition to watching the breath, which slows and smooths it, I also ask them not to try to move breath into unbreathed areas, but to shine their awareness into those areas. If they do this practice regularly, the breath spontaneously moves into the darker areas. So, coming back to the idea of pranayama not being about breath control, it’s about allowing it to move on its own volition into areas that are being illuminated by consciousness.
I recommend a daily practice but, if not possible, at least four to five times a week for 15 to 20 minutes. The more you can do, the more useful over time. It’s like playing piano—if you want to progress, you have to practice. When people take up the piano, they will naturally think, “I have to practice.” It is the same with our Yoga practice. With practice, the breath smooths, slows and becomes fuller and more complete.
IYM: Would you talk about the pause between breaths?
RR: It’s extremely important to stay very conscious of the pauses, particularly at the end of the exhalation. I have students extend that pause—not breath holding per se, but you come to a rest and linger there for a few extra seconds. If you observe very carefully during that time, you’ll see the thoughts come to a complete stop. I compare that to a movie screen. When you go into a movie theater and sit back in the chair, waiting for the film to begin, you look up and what you see is a blank screen. When the movie comes on, you forget the screen. But, the picture wouldn’t exist if not for the screen. Yet, the screen isn’t affected by what is projected—it doesn’t matter if it’s a western or thriller or comedy—the screen stays the same. The pause at the end of an exhalation is the screen upon which the breath is projected. So, I ask my students to be aware of the breath moving on the screen of stillness. When you inhale and exhale, can you do it in a way so as not to disturb the underlying stillness.
IYM: You talk about “authentic breath.” What do you mean?
RR: It’s what your breathing would be like if you didn’t have a lot of obstacles in the way. We block our own breath. The first step in conscious breathing is getting out of your own way. We watch ourselves to figure out what is blocking authentic breathing: Tension, stress, physical misalignment have to be acknowledged before you move on in your breathing practice. This is why you want to do asana practice in conjunction with pranayama practice—it helps you learn about alignment and to release stress. Everyone has their own authentic breath—they just have to get out of their own way in order for it to emerge. You can’t do it directly; you peel off certain layers, and it comes out. One reason to practice pranayama is so you can become aware of your breathing, not just during your practice but throughout the day. That’s why we do Yoga— to become aware of ourselves. My favorite motto is a quote from Sri Aurobindo: “All life is Yoga.” We use our formal practice to expand our self-awareness throughout the day.
IYM: What role does the Yoga or pranayama teacher play in this process?
RR: Teachers have a role to play beyond the classroom. We need to be willing to make ourselves available to students when needed. Asana and pranayama may seem benign but these are transformative practices and you have to be ready to take responsibility as a teacher to help students navigate challenging times. It’s important for a serious student—whether they come one or two times a week or they have a home practice, to have a professional relationship with a teacher. They get to know the teacher and the teacher gets to know them so, when they encounter difficulties in practice, they have someone to whom they can turn. I think it’s important for teachers to understand they don’t have to be therapists but to be resources to whom students can come for help and advice.
I tell my students that, when they are having a hard time, it’s often a sign they are making progress. It’s not a time to be discouraged but to be encouraged. Some of the old forms are breaking down. These forms, patterns and habits are living creatures, and like all living and breathing creatures, they often struggle to stay alive. You have to convince them they have a place of economy in your being—it’s just that they have to change and accept new roles. It’s important to help students understand progress isn’t always what they think it is. It’s not always feeling better, but feeling worse. The mark of a true student is that they can stay with their practice even if things aren’t going well.
IYM: You have talked about taking “refuge in the breath.” What do you mean by that?
RR: For many, breathing practice goes through a process, a series of steps. The first usually is: I don’t want to do this practice; it’s hard and there’s no payback. I put in all this time and effort, yet I don’t see any change. It’s natural to feel that way. But breathing is a lot subtler than asana, and takes more time for most people. You have to be patient and put in the time. The first stage of any breathing practice is what one my teachers used to call mule work—you have to do it! I don’t think you need to push yourself, but if you stay with it, your practice becomes a little less onerous and starts to become interesting—even if it’s not much fun. Gradually, you start to feel something and begin to get curious and want to explore. After that, it becomes even more interesting and you don’t have a problem getting up in the morning to practice. Then, it actually becomes enjoyable. You do it every day because it feeds and sustains you. That’s what I mean by breath as your refuge. Usually, it takes some time to get there on a consistent basis. Yogis talk about having adhikara—the ripeness or qualification for this practice. I tell my students not to beat themselves over the process. Everyone ripens at their own rate. If you have to continually fight yourself over the process, then maybe you are not ready—wait for another time.
When I’m feeling overly stimulated, or angry or aggravated, I can use my breathing to calm things down. When I feel tired or low energy I can often use it to pick myself up. It’s become a refuge for me. I think its unfortunate in American Yoga that pranayama is undervalued. We don’t include it enough in our classes. That will hopefully change, as Americans become more sophisticated as Yoga practitioners. I think pranayama is the core of Yoga practice.
