When My Client Said, "I Am Here": A Breathwork Story

There are certain moments in my work that stay with me long after a session has ended.

A few days ago, one of those moments happened.

During an Immersive Breathwork session, my client shared that she could feel gentle hands resting on her shoulders. At first, I simply smiled because my hands weren't on her shoulders at all. They were resting on her feet, helping her feel grounded as she continued to breathe.

As the session unfolded, she described the sensation becoming even stronger. It felt, she said, as though many hands were softly supporting her whole body and gently encouraging her to surrender into the earth beneath her.

I didn't try to explain what she was experiencing.

I never do.

One of the things I've learned over the years is that every Breathwork journey is unique. Two people can lie side by side, breathe in exactly the same way, and have completely different experiences. While I may offer reflections from a somatic or energetic perspective, I’m mindful not to impose meaning on someone’s experience. It's to create a space where they feel safe enough to begin listening for themselves.

Towards the end of the session, she quietly said three words.

"I am here."

Those words have stayed with me ever since.

Not because they sounded profound.

Because they felt true.

The Body Often Speaks Before We Do

When people first come to Breathwork, they often tell me they feel stressed, overwhelmed or disconnected from themselves. They usually describe what's happening in their lives, the demanding job, the relationship that's no longer working, the uncertainty about what comes next.

What fascinates me is that while the mind is busy telling its story, the body has often been telling the same story for years.

I notice it in breathing patterns.

I notice it in posture.

And very often, I notice it in the shoulders.

Of course, not everyone carries tension in the same place. Every body is different. But over the years I've become curious about how frequently the shoulders seem to carry responsibility, pressure and the feeling that we always have to keep going.

Sometimes we've carried those feelings for so long that they simply become normal.

We stop noticing how much effort it takes to hold ourselves together.

What Happens When the Body Feels Supported?