Breathe deep everyone. Breathe deep.

I do yoga. Yes, I know it's nothing special anymore--you can do yoga at the corner gym these days for crying out loud--but it's been working for centuries for Hindus and it's sure working wonders on my thighs and my breathing.

My yoga teacher is set on teaching us to breathe. I didn't know I needed a lesson in it, though, until I started actually doing it her way. It's not so hard to breathe--you may be aware of this as your involuntary respiratory system forces your lungs in and out, in and out even now as you read this. But when you're in the midst of a tense yoga pose with arms stretching in pretzel-like twists and a bent leg wobbling to hold up against the pressure, my yoga teacher will command, "Breathe!" And I'll realize that I hadn't been. In fact, as soon as I try to inhale and exhale, I can't.

I hate to ruin the suspense, but I'm not dying or anything. I am breathing, just not in yogi breath. Yogi breath is deep and purposeful. It commands attention and control.

I rock yogi breath when I'm lying down or bringing my hands to heart-center. But when I'm in the midst of the pretzel twist suspiciously aware of my knee's threat to break off and run back to the good old days of watching tv from the couch, I do not breathe so easily.

I forced a deep inhale, though, the other day. It took all the strength I had, but I slowly and intently filled my lungs with oxygen and then pursed my lips and maintained a steady exhale.

You know what? My pose got stronger. My knee committed to sticking with me for a few more hours at least and my arms steadied themselves. My shoulders lifted up higher and I retained the pose. I felt yoga-ish.

Towards the end of the class, my instructor began work on my psyche. "What has master over you?" She asked. Is it greed? Sex? A desire to please others? Selfishness? She dug deeper and asked us to find what had been lording over us in place of the Lord.

I used my breath and began exploring my inner-being. I searched everywhere for the power that controlled my existence. (I would like to say that as a Christ-follower, Christ is the only ruling force in my life. That would be great, but untrue.)

So as I pondered and examined and sought after the Lord, one word finally and instantly satisfied my quest: fear. Fear is my master. I have been serving it faithfully since childhood and use every bad experience to instill its tenure further. It has been a comfort to me when I couldn't control my circumstances and an excuse when I preferred laziness.

I had hoped that it would be greed or gossip that controlled me--I can get those kinds of problems under control.

But fear isn't so neatly packaged. It's harder to recognize and almost impossible to live without. It has become, for me, like breathing.

I wonder what would happen in my life if, as in my pose, I took what strength I had and focused it on breathing correctly. Sure, I had been breathing all along as I wobbled and wiggled in my pose, but when I stepped outside my circumstances and took control of my breath, I replaced unsteady balancing with sure-footed strength. I replaced my body's mastery over me with my mastery over it.

Breathing deeply felt a little risky. I doubted I could manage it and I never even expected it would strengthen my pose and forever change my practice. In fact, I'm not sure why I even did it.

But my instructor suggested it and she's nice and kind and much better at yoga than me. So I guess I just trusted her and went with it.

"I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after the killing of the body, has power to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him. Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. " -Jesus