What I Learned Along the Way

The way of water, the way of breath

Petra Peyer · 5 min read

I was always afraid of water. The breath is what brought me back to her.

Throughout my childhood and early adulthood I had several frightening, traumatizing experiences with water.
Maybe I was always afraid of water. Not sure and why.
I was the last among my cousins and friends to learn to swim. I just couldn't. I was too afraid.

I went to swimming classes - pushed by a stick, by a teacher standing at the edge of the pool, back into the deep water, away from the edge I was reaching for.

I remember the draining feeling of that. Reaching for his long wooden stick to save myself.
He wouldn’t give it to me, he would wait - only when he saw me swallowing water would he let me have it.
A horrible, horrible experience.
Luckily I didn't stay there long. My mom took me out.
It was my uncle who taught me to swim - at a natural water reservoir near us. By lying to me. In good faith.

Always a little afraid of my strict uncle, I followed him into the water without the ring, as he instructed me.
He said his hands would be underneath my belly, holding me. Not to be afraid.
Until they weren’t. His hands were suddenly both in the air - while I swam.
He taught me to swim. But he broke my trust.
At 14 or so, on our first holiday in ex-Yugoslavia, I went swimming while the ocean turned wild.

I wanted to reach the shallow water past the deep part. And I couldn't find it. The waves were suddenly so rough, I was fighting, looking for sand under my feet, a moment I wasn’t sure I'd make it. I did. I found it.

But my body kept the fear.

Coming out of the water after, I remember my mother and brother running to me, worried - and a big man lying without breath on the shore, a team of lifeguards trying to save him. They didn't.

At 17, canoeing a Czech river with my best friend and her family, I was told to ride a small waterfall with her sister's husband - a confident, experienced canoe man.

We didn't make it. We flipped. Suddenly I was stuck underneath the canoe. A friction moment of fear of death. Before getting myself out of there. For a couple of seconds. That was enough.

Several other small incidents with water.
I think I can say it traumatized me.
Despite being at a sports camp focused on water and swimming at six.
Despite a week of swim training at sixteen, part of my kindergarten teacher school training.
I accepted water. But I didn't relate to her.

It was only three years ago, at my first rebirthing retreat south of the UK with Kerry, that I worked through this almost drawning trauma with water - in a hot tub, 37 degrees. Body temperature.

Last week - the past eight days - I was in France, on the third module of my rebirthing breathwork training.

Sitting still now, alone, writing this, my integration begins. Sometimes writing and talking about things does wonders, in our own process.

I know - apart from the many wonderful things, the people I met, being part of something truly unique - this was about my relationship with her. THE WATER.

And this is only where my journey with water begins.
I breathed and swam this week in three kinds of water.

The salty water, the big pool, 22 degrees - brought me into the underwater world. The Avatar story, come to life. The freedom of the depth, dancing with her.

The warm water, the 37-degree jacuzzi - was the breath back to the womb. To the darkness. To the heartbeat I heard underneath the water. She reminded me of my own time there.

And last - the most important one, I think - was when the source of the water, of that land where we stayed eight nights, called me. Come breathe with me.

I received the most amazing gift there. Two women holding the space, witnessing this breath I did, naked and pure, with me.

14.5 degrees. And 10, maybe 15 minutes of breathe in the cold water.
Surrender to the fear. Surrender to the cold. Breathe. Relax.
I laid my head on her hands - she was holding me, and she didn't move her hands away.
I'm only realizing this now, writing it. She stayed. She held me. She kept me safe.
And I was in full trust.

It's hard to describe. Yet I try.
Just to show what happens when you start to trust.
And so my journey continues. With the water. With the breath.
I want to help others find their missing piece - to freedom, to safety, to trust.
And I can only do that when I trust, heal, and walk this path myself.

Thank you, AIR school - the most amazing breath school I know. Fifteen years strong, with the wisest, most amazing mentors among my teachers.

Thank you, Doug and Kerry. Thank you, Brigitte and Jacquie.
I'll be back, in February, at the water breath in Devon. And the fourth modul - Sacred Love
I know now - the path of the breath is the path of the water. The miracle on Earth. The miracle of birth and life.
And we choose - to live or die, and how.
With all the love I received, and all the love I have.

~ Petra