Breath and Catharsis: How Breathwork Cracked Me Open
Exploring the science and history of holotropic breathwork, and the presence that follows.
My hands were lobster claws — twisted, numb, and useless.
It was the first time I experienced holotropic breathwork. Within minutes my hands curled tight, my arms tingled, and then came the flood. At first my mind worried — Is this safe? Am I doing it right? — but the narrator in my head quickly gave up. My body released what my mind couldn’t. I cried harder than I had in years.
And then came the quiet — a wide, timeless stillness, as if the noise of thought had stepped aside and left only presence.
What Holotropic Breathwork Does
Holotropic breathwork — developed in the 1970s by Stanislav and Christina Grof — looks simple: you lie down, close your eyes, and breathe deeper and faster than normal, without pausing between inhale and exhale. Sessions are usually done with loud music, in a safe space, with a group or partner, and with a trained facilitator. Classic sessions run 2 to 3 hours, though shorter introductory versions of 20 to 45 minutes are also common. It may look like “just breathing,” but the effects are powerful.
Blood chemistry shifts. Breathing this way lowers carbon dioxide in the blood, which makes nerves more excitable. That’s why people often feel tingling in their hands or even claw-like spasms.
Sensation takes over. Heat, tingling, and dizziness flood awareness, pulling attention out of thought loops and into raw presence.
Emotions surge. Normally the “thinking” part of the brain keeps a lid on strong feelings. In holotropic breathwork, that lid loosens, and emotions — grief, joy, anger — can pour out.
The inner narrator quiets. Research on similar altered states shows the brain’s “chatter network,” called the default mode network, slows down. With less self-talk, there’s more space for calm or clarity.
Together, these shifts can lead to catharsis, visions, or deep quiet.
Breath Across Cultures
The Grofs didn’t invent breathwork — they reframed an old insight: change the breath, change awareness.
Yogis practiced kapalabhati (“skull-shining breath”) to dissolve thought. Tibetan monks used tummo with visualization to generate inner heat. Modern methods like Wim Hof or rebirthing are rediscoveries of this ancient principle. Across time and place, the lesson is the same: breath alters both body and consciousness.
How It Softens the Narrator
At first, the narrator resists:
“This is strange.”
“What if I lose control?”
“Everyone else is doing it better.”
But as the breath deepens, the body overwhelms thought. Loops of worry, judgment, and replay can’t keep up. What’s left is raw sensation: tears, vibrations, awe.
In that state, the narrator softens, and in that quiet, presence takes over — your body’s signals, your bond with others, the music and space — all felt directly, without panic.
Safety First
This practice isn’t for everyone. Facilitators typically screen out people with:
Pregnancy
Heart disease or hypertension
Epilepsy
Recent surgery
Bipolar disorder or psychosis, since breathwork can destabilize psychiatric conditions
For those in stable health, though, it can be profoundly healing when held in a safe container with skilled guidance, music, and integration.
Try It Yourself: Box Breathing
Holotropic breathwork is powerful — but it’s also intense. The rapid, continuous breathing used in those sessions can bring on overwhelming sensations and is best done with a trained facilitator who can provide safety and support. That’s why I’m not offering it here as a “do-it-yourself” practice.
Instead, you can try box breathing—a simple, safe way to experience how changing the breath can change the mind. This technique is used everywhere from meditation classes to Navy SEAL training, because it quickly restores calm and focus.
Here’s how:
Inhale slowly through your nose to a count of 4.
Hold your breath for a count of 4.
Exhale gently through your mouth to a count of 4.
Hold again for a count of 4.
That’s one “box.” Repeat for 3–5 rounds. Within minutes you may notice your thoughts quieting and your body settling.
Why it helps: Box breathing works by balancing oxygen and carbon dioxide in the blood, slowing the heart rate, and sending a message of safety to the nervous system. It’s a gentle doorway into the same principle behind more intense practices like holotropic breathwork: when the breath changes, awareness changes.
The Stillness After
I came out of that holotropic breathwork session shaky, teary-eyed and strangely lighter. What stayed with me wasn’t the intensity of what came up, but the stillness after — as if the volume on the inner narrator had been turned down, making space for presence.
Holotropic breathwork isn’t about chasing visions or catharsis. Those may come, but the deeper gift is resting in the presence that’s always there when the narrator steps aside.
If this resonates, subscribe. Each week I’ll share stories, science, and practices to help soften the narrator and practice presence.