Three Little Breaths

Lyrics

[Intro]

In the quiet room at the Mind/Body Medical Institute,
Boston, 1975, early morning light filters through the blinds.
Herbert Benson's stopwatch ticks softly on the wooden table.

[Verse 1]
You, little silver stopwatch, with your face marked in seconds,
Herbert holds you gently, sets you for the cycle.
Inhale for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight.
Stephen Porges whispers through the pages of his theory,
the vagus nerve listening, shifting from threat to safety.

[Chorus]
Three little breaths, my darlings,
come to me in this dim light.
First one fills the diaphragm, chamomile steam rising from the cup nearby.
Second one holds the pause, lavender scent drifting like a memory.
Third one releases slow, cooling the room to 68 degrees Fahrenheit.
You calm the storm inside, polyvagal dreams unfolding.

[Verse 2]
I feel your rhythm in my chest, the biofeedback monitor beeps approval.
From 6:30 AM, when the city stirs outside,
to 9:00 PM, under the twilight sky.
The stethoscope pressed to skin, listening to the shift,
from fight or flight to this deep rest.

[Bridge]

Oh, the small strange fact: some hummed low during exhale,
like an unintended 'Om' in the clinical air.
Unnamed assistants in white coats, their breaths syncing too,
yogic echoes from centuries past, filling the gaps in the records.

[Chorus]
Three little breaths, my quiet companions,
weave through the nerves of glass.
First breath grounds the root, second mends the fracture,
third ignites the spark of calm out of nothing.
You, my tools of resilience, in this intimate space.

[Outro]

And as the stopwatch clicks to stop,
the relaxation response lingers,
Herbert's quote etched in the air: the opposite of fight or flight.
Three little breaths, carrying me through.