Breath work: exhaling the ick and flushing the turds

People. We know how to breathe... right? If breathing is so basic, why are therapists, wellness gurus, and emotionally regulated people with suspiciously calm voices always reminding us to do it?

Most of us have been told to “take a deep breath” to release tension, reduce anxiety, open our chakras, let the chi flow, and generally stop acting like a raccoon trapped in a recycling bin. But why does breathing actually help? What is happening in the body, brain, and spirit when we slow down and breathe on purpose?

Just as the physical body receives life and energy through oxygen, our emotional, mental, and spiritual selves can imagine receiving something life-giving through each inhale as well. Light. Cleansing. Restoration. A little internal housekeeping. When we exhale, the body releases carbon dioxide—the waste product of energy production. In the same way, we can use the exhale as a practice for releasing our own mental, emotional, and spiritual waste products.

The Brief Science Behind Breathing

Here is the typical explanation we get from counseling nerds like me and nervous-system enthusiasts everywhere: slow, controlled breathing sends “safety” signals through the nervous system, especially through the vagus nerve, which connects the brain to the heart, lungs, and digestive system. When you breathe slowly, your heart rate begins to steady, and your body starts to sense that there is no immediate danger.

The brain receives that information and reduces activity in the fight-or-flight system, which is controlled by the sympathetic nervous system. At the same time, it increases activity in the parasympathetic nervous system—the part of us that helps the body rest, digest, recover, and remember that we are not actually being chased by a bear, an email, or our own thoughts.

In simple terms, slow breathing tells the brain, “We are safe right now,” and the brain gives the body permission to relax.

Another Way to Think About Breath work: Oxygenation

When you inhale, the lungs bring oxygen into tiny air sacs called alveoli, where it passes into the bloodstream. The blood carries that oxygen to cells throughout the body. Inside the cells, oxygen helps break down nutrients from food to create energy the body can use. This process also produces carbon dioxide as a waste product. The blood carries carbon dioxide back to the lungs, and when you exhale, the lungs release it from the body.

So as we breathe in, we bring in life. Every cell in the body receives the energy-producing benefit of each inhale. Every cell also receives the waste-elimination benefit of each exhale. The inhale nourishes. The exhale clears. Honestly, it is a pretty impressive system for something we mostly do while answering emails and forgetting where we put our keys.

How Breathing Can Help Release Stuck Emotions and Beliefs

When we use oxygenation as a framework for breathing through stuck emotions, beliefs, and circling thoughts, we stop thinking only about getting “relaxed” and start thinking about getting “released.”

Important compassion disclaimer: There is no easy fix for complex trauma, abuse, or significant mental health struggles. Breathwork and mindfulness can be powerful tools, but they are not replacements for therapy, medical care, safety, or support. Think of them as helpful partners on the healing journey—not tiny magical wizards living in your diaphragm.

Just as the physical body receives life and energy through oxygen, our emotional, mental, and spiritual selves can imagine receiving something life-giving through each inhale as well. Light. Cleansing. Restoration. A little internal housekeeping. When we exhale, the body releases carbon dioxide—the waste product of energy production. In the same way, we can use the exhale as a practice for releasing our own mental, emotional, and spiritual waste products.

Those waste products might be circling thoughts like, “I am stupid,” “I am ugly,” or “I am unlovable.” They might be stuck emotions like anger, grief, fear, shame, or sadness. I call these things the “ick.” You know the ick. The gunky, poisonous-feeling, emotional lint trap of the soul.

A Simple Breathing Practice for the Ick

When the ick arises, breathe in fresh life. Imagine the oxygen bringing energy to the part of you that is hurting, bracing, spiraling, clenching, or dramatically auditioning for the role of “Most Overwhelmed Human in a Minor Inconvenience.”

1. Inhale through your nose for three seconds. Imagine oxygen bringing new life and energy to the parts of your body affected by the ick—your brain, neck tension, heavy heart, stomach pain, clenched jaw, or wherever your body is keeping receipts. 

2. Pause gently for six seconds. Do not hold your breath like you are bracing for impact. Just pause. Imagine the oxygen flowing around the tender or tense places, loosening what has been stuck.

3. Exhale slowly through your nose or mouth for nine seconds. Imagine pieces of the ick being swept up with the carbon dioxide molecules and riding their way out of your body through the exhale.

I love a good pause after the inhale, because it gives the oxygen time to seek out the ick and give it a little shake. Not a violent shake. More like a firm but loving, “Excuse me, you cannot live rent-free in this body forever.”

Here Is the Hardest Part: Let It Stay Released

There is nothing left for you to do. That is the hardest part. Let it stay out. And when it builds again, breathe again.

Listen. When you exhale, you do not run to every leaf on every tree and every blade of grass yelling, “DO PHOTOSYNTHESIS! Make more oxygen with my carbon dioxide!” Why? Because the earth knows what to do with your waste products. There is already a plan in place. The same can be true with your mental, spiritual, and emotional ick. Once you release it, you do not have to micromanage its transformation.

You also do not geolocate every turd you flush and track it every hour on the hour just to see where it went. So why do we do that with every painful belief, emotion, or experience we are trying to release? Why do we keep checking on it like, “Hey, just making sure you are still ruining my afternoon.”

Maybe it is because we want control. Maybe we are afraid that releasing the pain means it did not matter. Maybe we worry that if we stop carrying it, there will be no proof that it happened. Whatever the reason, humans are weird little meaning-making machines, and sometimes we would rather clutch the ick than trust release.

A Messy Story from My Christian Leadership Days

I had a rough dad. I will not get into specifics because that is his story, but I will share my half. I experienced physical, verbal, and emotional abuse, along with psychological invalidation that did some real damage. When my dad became a Christian when I was 14, many of the overt behaviors changed, but much of the harm was reframed as discipline or soul-saving. He became involved in prison ministry and later joined a motorcycle ministry, preaching to people with stories of violence, pain, and redemption while my mom joined him in supporting the women connected to that work.

I held so much pain from the abuse. I had very little confidence, carried debilitating anxiety and self-hatred, and often felt like I was on the brink of complete soul annihilation. No hyperbole. It sucked.

When I got “saved” at 26 and chose to practice Christianity, I started telling the story in a way I now recognize as spiritual bypassing. It helped me believe the pain had a higher purpose. I told myself that if the men my dad preached to received healing or faith, then maybe my suffering had been necessary. Maybe his harm toward his children became the testimony that helped men like him. Maybe I had to suffer so others could be saved.

What bullshit. Compassionate, trauma-informed, no-longer-buying-it bullshit. That was me holding on to pain because I believed that if I let it go, it would not matter. I would not matter. So I presided over it. Remembered it. Tried to make it count for God. But instead of making me free, it kept me stuck in negative self-talk and patterns of toxic leadership relationships. 

I geolocated that turd. Every time I released pain from it, I chased it down and demanded that it become something good. It was like breathing out on that one leaf and shouting, “Do photosynthesis now! I want my waste to come back as my next inhale of oxygen!”

Here is the reminder I needed then, and maybe the one you need now: It is not your job to hold pain until you can prove it produced something meaningful. It is not your job to carry the story until you see the good in it. The harm mattered because you mattered. Full stop.

Just breathe. Exhale the ick. It is waste. It is toxic. And when it is gone, it is not yours to manage anymore. The universe, God, the earth, your body, your healing process—whatever language feels true for you—can handle the back half. Your job is to take the next breath and let life flow into the space you cleared.

Keep Breathing. Keep Healing.

Keep doing your work. Keep healing. Keep moving forward. And if you need help, please reach out to a therapist or qualified professional in your state who understands somatic practices, mindfulness, and the complexity of trauma. You do not have to heal alone. I believe in you.