Are there mornings when you have 100 things to do before the clock hits 8 a.m., and that is exactly when everyone needs something? You’re running late, the homework is misplaced, and then someone asks you for one more thing.
I know those mornings well.
These days, my son has a job he loves: he is our breath detector. When things start moving too fast and he sees any of us getting overwhelmed, he says, “Mom, take a breath.”
It makes me smile, because a year ago, I couldn’t catch that moment myself.
And that might be the biggest thing breathwork has taught me about motherhood. Our children don’t need us to be calm all the time. They need to see that when we lose our calm, we know how to find our way back.
In my last piece, I shared how Ayni Mama began. What I didn’t tell you is how much building it would teach me.
The moment I knew something had to change
Labor Day weekend, we went on vacation with four families. One house, lots of children, many personalities. What was supposed to be a fun weekend became a stressful one, especially with my daughter, Karolina. Almost every morning, she woke up frustrated, and it spilled into how she treated the other children.
I could see she was struggling. I wanted to help her through the friendships and big feelings, but the truth was, I was frustrated too.
With two days left in the house, I went for a walk by myself and cried.
I had spent years learning what to say to my children. But on that walk, I had to admit something difficult: I still had not learned how to regulate myself. I couldn’t help my daughter find her calm when I couldn’t find my own.
That realization was painful, but pivotal. I came home and signed up for an Art of Living course, my first real introduction to breathwork, and the foundation of my practice.
Learning to come back
I had meditated for years, so I thought I understood what it meant to be grounded. Breathwork taught me something different: how to find steadiness in the middle of my actual day.
Researcher Bruce McEwen calls it “allostatic load,” the wear and tear that builds when stress never lets up and the body rarely gets to recover. I recognized myself in it. I wasn’t in a crisis. I was mothering, planning, getting everyone where they needed to be. But was I truly regulated?
When does a mother even have time for breathwork? I find small places for it inside the life I already live: after school drop-off, before I eat, before bed.
The gift Ayni gave back to me
As my practice deepened, I learned from teachers like the Breath Nurse, who later brought breathwork to our first retreat, and Daniel Silva. Breathwork had become life-changing, and I knew it belonged at Ayni.
On the first day of our retreat, I watched mothers move through breathwork and express how they truly felt. It was as if, finally, we could be honest about what we were carrying. The next day, they practiced alongside their daughters, and I watched the connection unfold: the trust between them, and a tool they could take home.
These are the years when friendships can get tricky and feelings grow big. Our daughters are learning how to handle being left out, how to speak up, and how to repair after conflict. They need to know that big emotions are not something to fear, and that calm isn’t a personality trait you are born with or without. It is something we practice, and something they learn by watching us.
A year after that trip, I got a call I never expected. At summer camp, Karolina had walked herself into the meditation tent and started to breathe, all on her own. The counselor thought she should tell me. The same little girl that I couldn’t help find calm that weekend had found it by herself. She had simply been watching me.
The lesson is in the return
So the next time your morning feels like 100 things before 8 a.m., don’t add one more thing to your list. Take a breath. Make your exhale a little longer. Maybe invite your child to breathe with you.
You will not get it right every time. I certainly don’t. But you don’t have to. Your children don’t need a mother who is always calm. They need to watch you lose your footing and find your way back, again and again. That is the lesson that will stay with them.
And that gift is already yours. It is as close as your next breath.
P.S. This fall, I’ll be hosting more breathwork events, because I want to share this practice with as many mothers as I can. And I’m so happy to share that the Breath Nurse will be returning to our next retreat. If you’d like to breathe with us, follow along at @aynimama_.
Rachele Scevola, BSN, RN, is a Registered Nurse, Certified Breathwork Facilitator, Integrative Wellness Specialist, and founder of The Breath Nurse.
With a background in critical care nursing, Rachele brings a grounded, body-based approach to breathwork that bridges her clinical experience with whole-person wellness. Through personalized breathwork experiences, she helps individuals and groups slow down, clear some of the noise, gain greater awareness of how they’re feeling, functioning, and living, and create meaningful,sustainable shifts in their lives.
Her work goes beyond using the breath simply to relax or regulate. Rachele uses breathwork as a tool to support greater clarity, energy, focus, emotional balance, connection, and self-awareness, while empowering people to take action on what they discover and move toward feeling better, functioning better, and living better. Coaching and lifestyle guidance are woven into her work to support those changes beyond the session itself.
She works with private clients online and creates customized breathwork experiences for groups, retreats, wellness events, teams, and organizations both online and in person. Her facilitation style is warm, grounded, trauma-informed, and rooted in the belief that the breath can be a powerful starting point for meaningful change.
Your breath is medicine.
Learn more about Rachele’s offerings and book a session at www.thebreathnurse.com.