–
–
Nelly instructed Kristy to place her hands on her belly
and focus on the rise and fall with each breath.
“Let yourself get big,” Nelly said.
“So many girls today want to shrink their bellies
down to nothing.
Let yourself get big. Develop those diaphragm muscles.
They will serve you well.”
–
–
I’ve been thinking that I’d like to share another scene from Shaken, but which one? I was unsure until, er, recent events forced my hand. Yesterday and today I’ve been seeing a lot of “just breathe” advice. But how, exactly, does one do that?
In this scene, we see Kristy in art therapy practicing that calming strategy.
To write this scene, I called upon a friend, Erin Svare, who teaches yoga and fitness and women’s health. Erin gave me a lot of the language that I put into Nelly’s mouth.
Two certified art therapists were also hugely helpful for those scenes, “helpful” in that I couldn’t have possibly done it without them. They answered questions, read first drafts, offered comments and encouragement. Thanks again, Tracy Gilbert and Maria Lupo, for the important work that you do — and for sharing a small piece of that with me.
SETTING THE SCENE: It is late in the book, Kristy is recovering from post-concussion syndrome, and things are looking up. She meets with Nelly, her art therapist, for their penultimate session, which includes watercolors, breathing exercises, and goldfish.
—
It was one of those times with Nelly when it didn’t feel like therapy at all. Truthfully, it rarely did. Maybe that was another one of Nelly’s tricks? Today was their ninth appointment, and next to last. Something about insurance only paying for ten. Nelly gave Kristy a few prompts and Kristy just . . . drew. Painted, actually, with watercolors, which she enjoyed. Nelly didn’t try to interpret the meaning of Kristy’s pictures. She never did. It wasn’t like that. Kristy just felt chill. Relaxed and calm. She found that she liked making art—so long as she didn’t worry if it was “good” or not— and the creative time helped her think about things. Strange how that worked.
Sometimes she talked about those thoughts with Nelly, and other times Kristy just turned them over in her mind: like a spade digging into the moist earth.
“I think you are doing very well,” Nelly said toward the end of the session, bracelets jangling, as she and Kristy put away the art supplies.
Kristy didn’t understand at first. She studied her painting and made a face. “Very well” seemed like a wild exaggeration. Nelly had asked her to draw herself picking apples from a tree. So Kristy did. It wasn’t anything special. In the image, Kristy stood on a ladder, reaching up and collecting the apples that were red and ripe. At the last minute, Kristy included Jimbo in the picture holding the ladder steady, and Binny, who was saying in a word balloon: “I’ll make a pie!”
“I guess it’s okay,” Kristy said. “I’m not very good at people.”
“I don’t mean your artwork—which is beautiful, by the way, and happy—I mean you.”
“I think so, yes,” Kristy agreed. “My headaches have mostly gone away. I still get anxious sometimes.” “That might always be true,” Nelly advised. “This life comes with stress. Tell you what. Let’s practice your breathing.”
“Again?” Kristy asked, but was already eagerly rolling out an exercise mat. She lay down on her back. “Practice makes perfect,” Nelly said.
“Well, actually, no,” Kristy contended, propping herself up on an elbow. “Coach Izzy, my school soccer coach, she’s a stickler for technique. She says that if you practice the wrong way, then you are just hard-wiring those mistakes into your muscle memory. She says, ‘Perfect practice makes perfect.’”
“Ah, gotcha,” Nelly replied. “Coach Izzy sounds like she’s on the ball.”
Nelly instructed Kristy to place her hands on her belly and focus on the rise and fall with each breath. “Let yourself get big,” Nelly said. “So many girls today want to shrink their bellies down to nothing. Let yourself get big. Develop those diaphragm muscles. They will serve you well.”
Nelly continued talking in a soothing tone. “You know that feeling when you can’t catch your breath? When your breathing gets shallow, high in the chest? Those are our emergency breathing muscles.”
“Panic attacks,” Kristy said. “I feel like I’m drowning in air when that happens.”
“It’s a scary feeling,” Nelly said. “That’s why we’re practicing this now. Belly breathing is a tool, Kristy. A tool that is always with us—we just have to remember to use it. Belly breathing calms the nervous system, slows the heartbeat, and primes the body for work. When you feel those anxiety triggers coming along, breathing can help you cope.”
Kristy murmured, relaxed and entranced. Eyes closed, ears listening, heart open.
“We know that great athletes in every sport have an ability to tune out the noise. They eliminate the distractions. They silence the negative self-talk in their own heads,” Nelly said. “I’ve worked with athletes right here in this office. Believe me, it works.”
She reviewed with Kristy a strategy called equal parts breath. “Inhale to the count of four, pause, exhale to the count of four, pause.”
Kristy practiced counting, imagined a box with four numbered corners and a little ball bouncing from corner to corner. “Now move your hands and feel how your rib cage widens and narrows. That’s right, put your hands right there. Your body is settling,” Nelly said. “Later you can lengthen your breath. Work up to a count of six, or eight. After more practice, try to go a little longer on the exhale. In for four, out for six.”
“It’s a nice distraction,” Kristy observed.
“Yes,” Nelly said with a light laugh. “You are focused on counting, being in your body. The outside noise goes away. You are in the present moment. Practice that every day and you are setting yourself up for success. The same way a basketball player practices foul shots. Then during the game, with all that outside pressure, she can calmly knock down those shots. Breathing is a tool you can access when you face stressful situations.”
“I like it,” Kristy said. “Makes sense.”
They moved to the leather chairs and grabbed handfuls of Goldfish from a bowl on the table. The perfect snack food, in Kristy’s opinion. The size, the little hollow part in the middle, the zesty flavor. What more could anyone want?
