Relationships are like Breathing
- Jon Reeves

- 1 day ago
- 4 min read

This metaphor emerged in a session recently and I thought some folks might find it useful. And it's not just that relationships are as important as breathing (though perhaps they are).
In the body there are voluntary functions and there are involuntary functions. Voluntary functions are those that we consciously choose to do, and involuntary functions are those we automatically do.
Clapping your hands is voluntary. Your heartbeat is involuntary.
Interestingly, there are some functions that are a mixed type. Eye movements for example: your eyes automatically scan your environment, but you can also choose where to look. Your posture when sitting or standing just “happens,” but when your grandmother or a drill sergeant tells you to stand up straight you do (usually very, very quickly). You can choose to swallow, but thankfully your brain isn’t occupied with orchestrating some dance between your tongue and throat all day. Blinking happens without you thinking about it–but most people find that it’s quite easy to intentionally open and close your eyes. And so on.
Breathing is…you guessed it…a mixed function. And a very useful one.
Psychologists and monks and therapists and yogis and wise women & men have noticed for many years that breathing is a mixed function and that by consciously altering breathing patterns, you can change unconscious feelings and reflexes. You can do it now if you like: take 60 seconds to breathe slowly, in through your nose, out through your mouth, taking 4-6 seconds for each inhalation and 4-6 seconds for each exhalation (that’s only 5-7 breaths a minute). Notice how your heart rate decreases. Notice how your muscles relax. Notice how your mood or anxiety shifts.
Of course, once you stop controlling your breath you go back to your default. But it’s very useful to be able to consciously change something that’s usually unconscious, and with enough practice, you can actually change the unconscious default.
Said again: your conscious choices can change something unconscious.
Relationships are like that. “Relating” is both voluntary and involuntary. The way you relate to other people can be consciously chosen, but it’s largely unconscious. “Don’t make assumptions!” they say–please, we’re constantly making assumptions. Social situations are full of interpretation and emotion and unconscious reaction. These mostly come from early experiences with Mom, Dad, siblings, grandparents, and other significant relationships, who laid the foundation of how we expect the world to work.* Sometimes trauma affects our psychology and our physiology and impacts how we read our body’s reaction to other people (e.g., is your heart beating fast because you find that person across the room attractive–or scary? Trauma can make that difficult to assess).
Understanding your unconscious relationship dynamics is popular right now. Everyone seems to be talking about Attachment in the past few years. And, it’s worth talking about. Attachment isn’t just social media psychobabble; there’s a lot of science behind attachment.
Similarly, people seem to be talking about the conscious ways we relate to others: boundaries are one such voluntary “function” of relationships that you’ve probably heard of, or parenting in a certain way such as gentle parenting or so-called “attachment” parenting (which has very little to do with attachment theory, by the way).
But there’s much more about relationships that you can consciously choose.
How about how much you trust people? Or specifically how much you trust men? How vulnerable you are with friends? What about your emotional awareness in the presence of another person? What about that attachment style of yours? Do you feel connected to your partner? Do you avoid them? What about your tendency to compare or compete with friends or colleagues? Can you change how sweaty your palms get and how much you resist telling someone you’re mad at them, or how much you love them? Can you depend on others? Ask favors of them?
It might sound like a stretch, for example, to consciously control how much you trust someone. Either you do or you don’t, right? But that’s exactly what therapy is. You’re choosing to enter a relationship in which you slowly learn to trust someone. You choose to connect with them. To be vulnerable. To argue. To tell them you love them, hate them, or want to sleep with them. And the therapy relationship is a professional one, in which the other person (the therapist) won’t abandon you, or take advantage of you, or hurt you.**
The therapy relationship is a voluntary choice–I’m not forcing you to come to sessions–and it's through that choice that you begin to change how you naturally relate to other people. By choosing therapy and choosing to engage in the work–by sharing what’s on your mind, reflecting on (rather than avoiding) how you feel, and choosing to trust that you can express these things to another person–you are changing your defaults.
Now, an important note. I said the therapist won’t hurt you, but neither will the therapist be perfect. There will be minor hurts and misunderstandings. But you have to learn how to effectively relate to imperfect people, and so I actually see this as a feature (not a bug) of the therapy relationship. Therapy is simply a safer imperfect relationship. Therapists are professionally trained, they’re professionally regulated, and they’re professionally motivated. We’re like skydiving instructors who do tandem jumps: we make something risky (i.e., relationships) safe enough for learning, so that with enough training, you can do it on your own. And do it well.
So yes, the way you relate to other people is largely unconscious. Probably more than most of us think. But just like your breath, you can choose to do it differently. And with some commitment, you can change even the unconscious parts of your relationships.
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*Notably, they largely laid these foundations unconsciously too.
**This is how it should go. Unfortunately, there are some therapy relationships that do end in hurt or abandonment or taking advantage. This should never happen but it does: so, you must not trust the therapist immediately, but should build real trust over time, in small(ish) increments. I think small ruptures and repairs are a feature of therapy, but there are abuses that happen in therapy that are much more damaging than they are beneficial. If your therapist tries to cross boundaries with you–perhaps relating outside the therapy room, relating in a way that’s unprofessional (e.g., having sex), or trying to take monetary or other advantage of you–you should consult with friends, family, or a different healthcare professional about how to proceed. You might make a report to your therapist’s professional board. These things aren’t acceptable.




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