Practice

When Breathing Became a Source of Stress

Trauma-informed breathwork facilitator, trained at Nagylevegő Központ, Hungary. Accreditation: Accredited by the International Association of Therapists (IAOTH); member of the International Breathwork Foundation (IBF)

A folded blanket and cushion on an empty mat in a lamplit room

During my training as a trauma-informed breathwork facilitator, I had the opportunity to work with many different people. Some came to practise with me just once, while others returned several times. I learnt an enormous amount from these sessions, and a few experiences in particular fundamentally changed the way I facilitate breathwork today.

Am I breathing correctly?

I remember one client with whom I began a session exactly as I had been taught. After a brief introduction, we moved straight into intensive, connected breathing. It was his first experience of this kind of breathwork, and I soon noticed that things were not quite going as we had hoped. Rather than gradually settling into the process, he became increasingly focused on his own breath. Was he taking in enough air? Was he getting it right? Was I pleased with him? He was so concerned about meeting what he believed were my expectations that the technique itself took up almost all his attention.

I encountered something similar during another session. That client found it difficult to engage with the process at all during the initial stage. They were trying, paying attention and doing their best to follow my instructions, but their mind kept returning to the same question: am I breathing correctly?

Those experiences stayed with me for a long time.

After all, people do not come to a breathwork session to learn how to perform a breathing technique perfectly. They come because there is something within themselves they would like to explore. Perhaps a recurring emotion, a difficult situation in their life, tension they have been carrying for years, or simply a curiosity to understand themselves better. And what I was seeing was that when people had to concentrate on a completely unfamiliar way of breathing from the very beginning, they had less attention available for the very thing that had brought them there.

My concern was not with the breathing itself. It was with how we began.

Time to settle into themselves

Towards the end of my training, I knew I wanted to change this. I became increasingly certain that I wanted those first few minutes to serve a different purpose. I wanted people who came to work with me to have time to settle into themselves before being introduced to a new way of breathing. That idea eventually became the foundation of my own method, SensoLégzés™ (my gradual, trauma-informed approach).

A gradual approach is central to SensoLégzés. We begin with an extended, meditative period of settling in. At first, we bring our attention to the body, to natural breathing and to our awareness of the surroundings. Through guided imagery, we also invite the client to imagine a place where they feel safe. It might be somewhere real, a cherished memory or an entirely imagined setting. We allow time for them to settle into that experience and gradually become calmer. For me, this is not simply an introduction to get through before the real work begins. It is just as important a part of the session as the active breathing itself.

From there, we move forward step by step.

We begin with abdominal breathing through the nose, gradually transitioning to breathing through the mouth. The inhalation is short and active, while the exhalation is longer, soft and relaxed. The pauses between breaths gradually disappear, creating a continuous, connected breathing pattern. Everything is introduced gradually, with guidance throughout. This gives the client time to become familiar with the new breathing pattern and find its rhythm, rather than suddenly being faced with an unfamiliar task that demands all their concentration.

What I have noticed is that by the time we reach the more active stage, the breathing tends to feel much more natural. Clients no longer have to think constantly about when to inhale, how to exhale or whether they are doing it correctly. They have more space to notice what is happening within them.

Their own limits

There is one instruction I consciously avoid in my sessions. I do not ask clients to breathe harder or with increasing intensity unless they are open to exploring that. What matters far more to me is that they learn to recognise their own limits. To notice how their body responds, what feelings arise and when they might need to slow down a little. As a trauma-informed facilitator, I consider this essential. I guide the process, but it is not my place to decide how intense another person’s experience should be.

I feel this is especially important when someone comes to a session with something difficult they would like to explore. It might be an old hurt, a loss or a memory associated with strong emotions. In those situations, my aim is not to provoke the most intense possible response or to have someone relive experiences that have caused them pain in the past. I want them to have the opportunity to approach whatever arises at their own pace, while maintaining some connection with the present moment. I certainly do not want breathwork to become yet another situation in which they feel they have to perform or meet someone else’s expectations.

Towards the end of the session, we return to natural breathing just as gradually. The active stage is followed by rest and integration. The music follows the same progression, accompanying the journey from the calm beginning through the more intensive stages and back towards stillness.

I have often thought about how best to describe the difference this approach has made to my clients’ experiences. I would not claim that it has made the method more effective. That would require comparative research, and I do not believe breathwork sessions should be judged by the intensity of the experience someone has.

What I have observed in my own practice is something rather different: people seem to engage with the process in a different way. Sometimes a client encounters a difficult emotion but is still able to remain aware of themselves as they experience it. At other times, we return to something that came up in an earlier session, and they are able to explore it from a different perspective. Some sessions are quiet and gentle, while others bring up a great deal of emotion. I do not consider one more valuable than the other.

For me, breathwork is not about going as deep as possible in a single session. What matters much more is giving someone the time to experience, understand and gradually integrate what they have discovered into their everyday life.

When I think back to those two clients from my training, I feel particularly grateful for those encounters. At the time, I simply knew there was something I wanted to do differently. Today, I understand exactly why.

Because, for me, a breathwork session does not begin with the first deep inhalation.

It begins by creating the conditions in which we can truly turn our attention towards ourselves.