Monica Garcia Duggal - The Power of Breath: The Gift of Self-Actualization Through Meditation

The
POWER
of
BREATH

The
POWER
of
BREATH

The Gift of Self-Actualization
Through Meditation

MONICA GARCIA DUGGAL

Copyright 2022 Monica Garcia Duggal

All rights reserved.

Published in association with Per Capita Publishing, a division of Content Capital.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure that the information in this book was correct at press time, the author and publisher do not assume and hereby disclaim any liability to any party for any loss, damage, or disruption caused by errors or omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident, or any other cause.

ISBN 13: 978-1-954020-17-7 (Paperback)

ISBN 13: 978-1-954020-18-4 (Ebook)

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Duggal, Monica Garcia, author.

Title: The Power of Breath / Monica Garcia Duggal

Description: First Edition | Texas: Per Capita Publishing (2021)

Identifiers: LCCN 2021923356 (print)

14 15 16 17 18 19 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

First Edition

I dedicate this book to Aaron, Katalia, Gabriella, and my mother, Carmen. Thank you for your unwavering love and for always believing in me.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

We keep replaying the loops and they in turn, trigger feelings. Its automatic to the point where we believe that we have no choice. But that is far from the truth.

Kamal Ravikant

Meditation is an umbrella term that can cover many things. There are purists who think it has to be done in a traditional way, sitting cross-legged and chanting a mantra, but I think there are many routes leading to the same result.

Dr. Rangan Chatterjee

I started holding my breath when I was four. Maybe I started earlier, but this time sticks out clearly to me. My first meditation as a child started when I was trying to deal with the real pain of two broken bones on my left arm.

It was a nice sunny day in our neighborhood, the birds were chirping, the sun was warm, and I was excited to hang out with my siblings. I was a four-year-old kid hanging out with my older siblings and our neighborhood friends.

A game I would play often with the big dogs of our neighborhood in our neighbors front yard was called Tarzan. The front yards in our neighborhood were large, with big trees, and the street was very wide and relatively quiet. We used a car parked in the front yard to stand on, and the big tree to tie a rope to. We would get on the car and then jump off, holding the rope while yelling aahuaaa uaaa uaaaaaaaa! as we swung. We would eventually stop swinging and land on the ground, or at least this was what was supposed to happen. I was by far the youngest, and being four years old meant my bones and muscles werent as developed as a six- or eight-year-olds were.

When it was my turn, I was very excited to jump off the car and let out a Tarzan yell, but unfortunately for me, mine was more of a aahu followed by the snap of rope, then an AHHHHH! all the way down until I smacked straight into the ground. I remember being disappointed that I did not even get to do a proper Tarzan scream, but that feeling was overshadowed by the severe pain caused by the weight of my whole body landing on my left arm.

My siblings quickly dropped their big dog attitude because I was delirious with pain. They looked at me in horror. My parents would surely spank whoever was the oldest of the group, and my oldest sisters did not want to get into trouble. In their panic, they both looked me over and immediately concluded that I was not that hurt. They told me I merely had a sprain and I would be fine, and they also told me to please not tell Mom, because they would get in trouble. I quickly agreed with their analysis because I didnt want to get them spanked, even as I nursed my clearly broken arm.

They took me to their bedroom and sat on the floor with me. I could not stop crying from the pain, but they were holding me so I could feel some relief. Not even receiving the attention I always craved from them could stop the tears of pain; I was whimpering and they were trying so hard to soothe me. I felt bad for myself, and I also felt bad for both of them. I must have been meditating through my whimpering, because how I was able to sit there, behind the door in their bedroom for three to four hours, was beyond my scope of understanding.

Long story short, my mother went looking for us when we didnt show up for dinner, and not only did my sisters get spanked for keeping me hidden, but I was spanked as well. So there I was, with two broken bones, and I got spanked.

I was sad, scared, and completely pissed off. I was pissed because I listened to my sisters and they still got in trouble, and I also got in big trouble. My mother took me to the hospital and left me there overnight so I could get a cast on my broken arm. I remember that night I dreamt about trying to find my mother. I was also pissed that she left me at the hospital by myself, though I knew she had eight other children she had to go home to take care of. Having sixteen kids is really difficult, but being one of sixteen is difficult as well. As I write and read this now, I realize that anger was how I dealt with my sadness.

I BELIEVE IF I HAD really learned how to meditate as a child, my life would have been so much better.

My current journey started when my sister was hospitalized due to a stroke. I was so relieved to find out she was going to recover; the reality was that deep down inside, I was truly scared and sad, terrified to think that I could have lost her. That was when I bought the book by the British physician and author, Dr. Chatterjee, who wrote an international bestseller about a brave new vision for medicine called How to Make Disease Disappear.

My sister had also suffered from other medical problems, and this is why I was a bit overwhelmed that now she had to deal with a stroke on top of her already compromised health history.

During this time I thought it would be good for me to read a book on health and buy one for my sister so she could read it to help her recover. When I reviewed the book, I noticed Dr. Chatterjees use of breath to relax and meditate, and how easy Dr. Chatterjee made it for his patients to get better.

For my sister, there was hope that learning to breathe would help her learn to relax, which could also help her overall health and recovery from a stroke. The breathing could not only help her get better but could also add years to her life, which I was happy about.

Meditation can help people heal from certain things, like my sisters stroke for example, but for others meditation can simply be a welcome addition for overall improvement.

There are different paths to meditation, to finding peace and happiness through the practice, and also to reaping the health benefits of learning how to meditate and breathe. These simple techniques could literally change ones life for the better.

Maybe you have never truly heard about meditating before or it wasnt the right time in your life when someone mentioned it to you. I recently spoke to some friends about meditation and breathing. They are accomplished and self-aware people, but talking about the subject of breathing and meditation still seems so foreign and boring to them. This simple act of breathing in a certain way baffles people; it appears weird and distracting. I used to be one of those people who scoffed at the possibility of something so simple and free having that much of a positive influence on me.