Breath, cold, and the stillness of the morning

Read more about how this powerful meditation combination has helped me manage some intense, and at times, overwhelming anxiety throughout my life.

I live a truly wonderful life full of love. I am genuinely happy. But of course, wherever there is light, shadows tend to form. My wonderful happy life coexists with some intense and, at times, overwhelming anxiety. It is something I have to deal with and manage every day.

The video above is outside of Nana’s (my mother-in-law’s) house in Montreal, Canada at 6:30 a.m. on a -20 degree morning. In 2022, we lived here for four months. Every single morning, I’d sit out there on a yoga mat in my board shorts, and I’d breathe. 

I’d welcome the shifting sensation as the cold enveloped my skin. I’d let the icy air fill my lungs and for anywhere between 10 to 30 minutes, I’d sit with this discomfort, and I’d breathe. I’d meditate. 

Breath, cold, and the stillness of the morning. An incredibly powerful combination. I have been meditating for 25 years, but only in the last five years or so have I started purposefully combining these three elements.

It pulls me into the present. I feel grounded; connected to the earth and to myself. It’s not always easy to go out there, and it’s not always comfortable—akin to most things in life, the harder it is on any given day, the more I know I need to do it—but my mind very rarely wanders. I always feel better, and clearer afterwards.

I have sometimes meditated up to eight hours a day for prolonged periods of my life. Impactful for a time, perhaps, but a key learning for me over the years—much like my belief around fitness—is that more isn’t necessarily better. Just ten minutes a day makes such a huge difference in my life.

When we are back at home in Sydney, I use an ice bath or jump in a cold shower before sitting. The cold may be manufactured, but the stillness of the morning remains authentic. From the other side of the world, I can find my way back to those snow-covered woods. Until my daughter Emme comes bounding down the stairs, smile and eyes wide.

Children are seemingly spared from the rule of light and shadows. She is all light, at least for now. I hope though, that if she ever needs it, meditation can help her the way it has helped me. 

As Emme and I always say, “I love the cold!!!”