KICK IT | JENLISA

39

Jennie

"Lay down." I rolled my mat next to hers, leaving twelve inches between them. She rolled down onto her back, and I pulled out a face cloth. "This one's unscented, but since it's bright, fold it to whatever size you want and cover your closed eyes."

I flipped to the journal page earmarked for Lisa's meditation. During class, she responded better to simple cues rather than fluffy ones, so I hummed out short phrases. "Close your eyes. Deep breath." At her rising chest, I added, "Fill your belly."

She lifted the towel off her eyes. "Why do you say that?"

"Because when we get stressed, we breathe short." I palmed my chest. "Leaving stale air flushes them out. Let me show you. Put your hands on your belly."

She palmed her stomach. Setting my journal aside, I knelt over her. "Can I touch your chest?"

After a slight pause, she nodded. Her heart raced, flattering but counterproductive. I moved her other hand over mine, then palmed us into a hand sandwich. "Breathe normally."

With her breath, her chest expanded and lifted our hands. "See that? Feel that? You're breathing in your chest." Her abdomen drew in as I lowered our hands to her ribs. After a breath, I slipped out my bottom hand and repositioned her hands to cup both sides. Resting mine on top, the hard points of her knuckles grated my palms. "Inhale deeply to lift your hands here. Slowly."

Lisa's nostrils flared, lifting her chest and expanding her breath lower. "Good, push the air out."

Her sharp, frustrated exhale made me smile, but I moved her hands down to the lowest point of her abdomen. Dryness coated my tongue. Her muscles were so stiff behind her shirt's thin cotton. Heat collected between us, but I applied gentle pressure. "Breathe here into your lower belly. Take three normal breaths first."

I sat silent as she breathed. Her shoulders relaxed a millimetre. "Take a slow, deep breath. Chest and ribs expand, then stretch your belly full. Exhale it all out, then hold."

She breathed and paused as I instructed. After two seconds, I pushed her navel. "Push the rest of the air out and clench your stomach. Hard, hot haaaa. It's silly and awkward, I know. Humour me."

"Haaa." She exhaled with an exaggerated breath, a pink flush rising in her cheeks.

"Now breathe in through your nose." Lisa sucked in a deep breath. "It should feel cool and refreshing."

She lay silent for a few breaths, repeating the process without me asking. Each forced-out exhale came steadier and slower. I made her breathe until she relaxed her shoulders. "Hot air is stale, trapped in the bottom of your lungs." I whispered, not wanting to break her concentration. "The cool air has a higher oxygen level and might feel a little dizzy. But when stressed, we don't breathe with our full lungs."

"Anyway." I returned to my mat and lay down. "Breathing slows down the heart rate and blood flow. The brain can sometimes shut off as quickly, but other times it takes a slower approach. And that's okay. Think of the indigo paint trickling down through your brain. Coating over your thoughts, silencing them, one drip... at a time."

Peeking one eye open, Lisa remained still. Her hands splayed over her stomach, expanding and breathing with a smooth, fluid movement. I let her rest before lying down and sitting through my restless thoughts.

At the risk of 'do what I say, not what I do' syndrome, I rarely meditated. A shepherd shouldn't nap while tending sheep. I fought those sabotaging expectations with slow, loud breaths. Intentional or not, Lisa synchronised her breaths.

A few minutes later, a tickling sensation crawled across my forearm. My eyes opened to a more peaceful Lisa. Her fingers relaxed on her belly. Shoulders to toes laid still. "How do you feel?" I whispered.

"Ready for a nap." she whispered back.

"Alright then. Wake up and let's get to work."

Her chuckle warmed my ears, closing my eyes. The tickling sensation crawled over my skin. When Lisa spoke, her single word locked up my spine.

"Ladybug."