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Embracing the Lessons Hidden In Discomfort
When breath becomes an escape from life's raw edges

Lately, I’ve been avoiding my breath.
It feels strange to admit that, given how much I talk about the importance of breathwork. But the truth is, I’ve been feeling untethered, almost like I’ve lost my anchor. And the idea of sitting down to breathe feels… hard. Not because I don’t believe in it—I know my breath can hold me in ways nothing else can—but because part of me wonders if leaning into the comfort of my breath would mean turning away from the discomfort of being.
I’ve been asking myself: Is soothing the same as escaping? And if I’m being honest, I don’t have the answer yet.
I’m reminded of someone posing a hypothetical thought on breathwork becoming our new addiction—a way we can numb out the pain and escape the discomfort of life. It made me giggle when I read it because I’ve thought of that too. Even though breathwork has been my anchor in so many moments, I’ve also wondered whether something so grounding could be used as a way to avoid what’s real. Its accessibility could most definitely encourage numbing from life’s discomforts.
I’ve found myself contemplating: How often have I turned to my breath to escape discomfort rather than face it? To soothe instead of sit with the rawness of life?
These questions have been sitting heavy with me as I’ve felt a growing resistance to showing up for my breath practice. Again, it’s not that I don’t believe in the power of breath—I do. I’ve felt its transformative effects time and again. But right now, part of me is questioning whether soothing my discomfort would mean masking it, pushing it aside instead of truly being with it.
And honestly? That’s left me feeling untethered, uprooted, and unsure. And yet, there’s a strange kind of wisdom in that discomfort. It’s reminding me that being present with what is—no matter how uncomfortable—might be the most honest thing I can do right now.
What if discomfort isn’t something that needs fixing? What if discomfort holds the lesson we’re here to learn?
This morning, as I read about someone’s recent struggle with mindfulness, it hit home. Because that’s exactly where I’ve been lately. And in those moments of discomfort, I’ve found that returning to the simplest thing—my breath—is what creates the space I’ve been yearning for, the space to be with what is.
So, perhaps two things can be true simultaneously: feeling untethered whilst anchoring with one’s breath in the present moment.
The Current Transits and Cycles of Maturation
I’ve started to pay more attention to Human Design transits lately and how they influence my energic frequencies. Right now, the transits are defining the 53-42 channel for me—a channel connecting the Root to my Sacral. 53-42 is all about cyclical maturation. It’s the energy of starting things and seeing them through to their natural completion, embracing the lessons that each cycle holds, and sharing them with the collective.
And honestly? This feels so resonant right now.
I know I’ve been in a cycle of resistance with my breath practice for some time now—avoiding communal sessions, feeling untethered, questioning whether I’m leaning on breath to escape discomfort. As someone with the Channel of Discovery, the 46-29, there’s really not much I’ve been able to do within this experience other than simply be in it.
At first, I judged myself for this resistance. I thought, Why can’t I just show up? What’s wrong with me? But now, I see this cycle as a part of something much deeper.
The lesson here isn’t about “fixing” my relationship with breathwork. It’s about allowing myself to sit with the discomfort, to feel the resistance fully, and to let the process unfold without rushing to soothe or escape. Breath isn’t meant to be a bandage for discomfort—it’s meant to create space for awareness, for presence, and for transformation.
This cycle is teaching me to trust the timing of things, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s reminding me that growth doesn’t always happen in the places we expect. Sometimes, it’s found in the quiet moments of resistance, in the pauses between breaths, and in the willingness to stay with the rawness of life.
The same transit last year led me to this realisation: our breath is our mantra, our breath is our medicine. In fact, I wrote about it on my Substack.
The Breath As An Anchor
Another lesson I keep returning to is that mindfulness doesn’t always have to look like long meditations or perfectly silent moments. I could easily argue here that most of the time mindfulness is as simple as one conscious breath—a deliberate inhale, a slow exhale, and the choice to pause in between. Mindfulness is the practice of presence. And being present does not equate to life being comfortable.
In fact, the opposite is more often true.
When we’re more present in our life, we’re more attuned to the subtleties; we’re more aware of the energetic currents. We feel more. We notice more. And that’s not an easy path to walk. You could say it’s a space where numbing becomes a coping mechanism, a protection against the overwhelm. And breathwork can easily become a tool that allows an escape from it all when the intention behind it is not clear.
Breath is the bridge between the external and internal world, a constant rhythm that gently reminds us to return to ourselves. For me, it’s not about mastering the practice but about allowing it to meet me where I am; allowing it to hold me as I am. When my mind is spinning, breath becomes my way back into my body—one inhale, one exhale at a time.
As I sit here writing this letter, I find myself pausing here and there and taking a conscious deep breath. And that’s enough for where I am right now. There’s no big commitment required. It’s simply a moment of reconnection, a way to incorporate spaciousness into the everyday.
“The process of breathing, if we can begin to understand it in relation to the whole of life, shows us the way to let go of the old and open to the new. It shows us the way to experience who and what we actually are. It shows us the way to wholeness and well-being.”
-Dennis Lewis-
Honestly, sometimes we overcomplicate things, thinking that we need fancy practices in order for them to be effective. But what I’m finding time and time again is that it’s the simplicity that’s often the most effective—the simplicity of the breath that invites us into the present moment and holds us as we allow ourselves to be with what is.
Take This With You
If mindfulness has felt difficult for you too lately, I invite you to practice presence today. Set aside any expectations of “doing it right” or “needing a certain outcome” and just allow your breath to be here now. One inhale, one exhale, one moment at a time.
I’m curious: what are you struggling with right now?
Sending you a deep and nourishing breath,
Silvia
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