Ordinary Days By Lauren Denton: Inhale, exhale, sunlight, repeat
I realize the topic of reducing stress and anxiety was around before the pandemic, but since the pre-pandemic days feel like a hundred years ago, it can seem like it all started with March of 2020.
Fast forward to now and it seems like everyone is talking about ways to reduce stress and beat back anxiety, in whatever form they come. And lately, I’ve been paying more attention. The funny thing is, I’ve learned a lot of interesting and helpful information via scientific studies, professional opinions, podcasts and books, but one of the best teachers has been my dog. Yep, Ruby the shedding doodle. I’ll get to her in a minute.
My attention was first piqued a couple years ago, when I went to a parenting conference with a prominent child therapist who taught us about box breathing: slow inhale, hold for four seconds, slow exhale, hold for four seconds. Then came Andrew Huberman, neuroscientist and podcaster, who talks about the importance of long exhales, which stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system, helping you relax.
That advice was echoed by my online Pilates instructor (I call her Jackie), who is always reminding us that long exhales tell the body it’s OK to relax and calm down. (I’ve reminded my girls about this technique when they’ve been keyed up about an upcoming test.) Counselor Michele taught me about the 54321 grounding technique: while breathing slowly and deeply, you find five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can see and one thing you can taste.
It's not just breathing that can reduce stress, but also sunlight and fresh air, two things I thought I was already pretty good at. Michele taught me about the importance of getting early morning sunlight “in your eyeballs,” as she puts it. Of course, she didn’t mean for me to stare directly at the sun, but she talked about how absorbing sunlight through the eyes and skin — specifically sunlight in the early morning — wakes up the cells in our bodies and helps produce dopamine, which gives us a sense of wellbeing and motivation. Even better if we can get that early morning sunlight before we drink our coffee. (Something about caffeine and adenosine and receptors, but I’m a writer, not a scientist, and anyway I can’t wait until the sun makes it to my backyard before I pour my first cup.)
And the fresh air part? Try this — get up and walk outside your house or office, where you can see the sky and trees and hear birds chirping. Does that simple action not make you take a big, chest-expanding inhale?
But my most recent (albeit clueless) teacher of stress-reducing techniques came in the most unlikely form: Ruby. Though she leaves tumbleweeds of hair all over our floor, barks wildly at anyone who walks in our front door and can clear a room with her bodily functions, Ruby is an expert at the very things I’ve been learning.
One of my favorite things about Ruby is a normal part of her preferred morning routine. After breakfast, she’ll go stand by the back door and wait patiently for me to let her outside. Once I open the door, she saunters out into the grass, does her business, then finds a patch of sunlight. She sits, facing the sun, and from my vantage point in the house, it appears that she closes her eyes. The sun reaches our yard in patchy stages, so much of the yard will still be shadowed, but there’s Ruby in a halo of sunlight, face toward the warmth, absorbing all that dopamine goodness while her ears flutter and her tail occasionally thumps the ground.
The next part of her preferred morning routine involves me and the leash. We take walks most days, sometimes two a day — especially now that I have this new knowledge about deep breathing and sunlight and fresh air. As we walk, she trots ahead of me, tail wagging, and stops to sniff anything that seems interesting. She’s wary of trash cans and lawnmowers, and she gives other dogs a wide berth, but once we’ve passed the scary things, she forgets her worries and goes right back to sniffing and smiling. And the longer we walk, the lighter my shoulders feel. Concerns and problems don’t disappear, but somehow, the combination of warmth on my skin, breeze on my face and blood pumping through my arms and legs makes the problems seem a little more manageable.
I’m not saying neuroscientists and other professionals aren’t important — obviously they are. I use the breathing techniques I’ve learned, and I’m teaching them to our girls. We talk about the importance of moving our bodies and getting vitamin D and more “green time” than screen time. But I’m also watching Ruby. I (try to) wait patiently for opportunities to come. I pay attention to interesting things on our walks. And I find patches of sunlight and face the warmth.
When I’m not writing about my family and our various shenanigans, I write novels and go to the grocery store. You can find my books in stores, online, and locally at Little
Professor Bookshop. You can reach me by email at Lauren@LaurenKDenton.com, visit my
website LaurenKDenton.com, or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks or
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