Much as kryptonite is to Superman, injuries have the power to befall even the strongest dancer.

The sad truth is that sometimes, even in spite of all the injury prevention techniques a dancer may employ, injuries happen. I’m authoring this installment of my breath series as I’m currently in the middle of a lengthy domestic and international tour with the renowned Abhinava Dance Company– and it comes as no surprise that several of us are noticing the toll of long rehearsals and show days on our bodies.

To be very clear, I’m certainly living my wildest dream. I love the life of traveling and performing: ending my days by basking in standing ovations, pushing the limits of my technique, and dancing nearly every moment I’m awake. For perhaps the first time in my dance journey, I actually see the fruits of all the time I’ve put into understanding my body and the way it moves. I feel, for the first time, that I am actually a dancer, and not simply imitating the movements of other artists (see: imposter syndrome). This feeling warrants its own description, and it’s one that I could write pages on; namely, what it is to understand dance, or to be a dancer. 

But along with these wonderful revelations and hours upon hours of dancing comes the unavoidable kryptonite: injuries, and more specifically, past injuries cropping back up. To me, this is one of the most frustrating parts of being a dancer, and one of the parts where I’ve had to work very hard to keep addressing these past injuries with kindness. Honestly, I’m still working on it… but it’s the product of understanding that negative self-talk doesn’t heal an injury faster. There’s another topic I’d love to write about and really explore psychologically.

Rant aside, all of these thoughts I’ve described led to one very interesting conversation I had last month with a wonderful DPT. I had the amazing opportunity to observe some fascinating cases throughout June and July, and one of the things that particularly stood out to me was how intertwined muscular injury and breath injury are. 

I use the term “breath injury” rather informally, as it’s not a formal sort of diagnosis. It is, however, something that I had never considered. The principle of the concept is as follows: when an individual experiences a muscular injury in the shoulder/chest region, the side (i.e., right or left) of the injury can affect which side (i.e., right or left) of the lungs where breath volume is diminished. Simply put, an injury to the right shoulder region can result in unequal breathing where the right half of the chest cavity does not expand to the same volume as the left half of the chest cavity. The lungs work unequally as a result of injury to one side of the body.

I make it a point to research the things that I write about on this platform as thoroughly as possible, but– and information this is according to my wonderful DPT mentor– this breath-injury relationship is part of a newer body of work in the field of physical therapy. 

That said, I think that it’s a wonderful thing to be aware of. I wanted to share this lesson in particular because of how applicable it is to me personally, and something that I’m becoming very aware of throughout this tour. As dancers, we have the remarkable ability to hone in on specific details, problems, flaws… and the same is true when we have injuries. Our whole practice becomes about how we can overcome whatever “issue” we are saddled with, and we can very easily overcompensate for the perceived lack of skill or ability as a result of the injury. Suddenly it’s been a few weeks post-injury, and you find yourself holding tension in all kinds of places in the body– and it’s largely because of this detail-oriented mindset.

To round out the past few pieces on breath, I have the following conclusions:

1. Movement is initiated by the breath. It is impossible to move without breath, both physically and emotionally. 
2. Breathing for the dancer should be an embodied practice. As artists, we channel so many emotions while simultaneously pushing our bodies to their physical limits. Generating an emotional awareness of breath is part of storytelling, and improves the dancer’s connection to the story they are illustrating with their body.
3. Breathing for the dancer should be part of their toolkit. A scientific understanding of the anatomy of breath is necessary to understand how the dancer can use breathing to their benefit. It is just as important as understanding which muscles are most useful in turnout for a ballet dancer or araimandi for a Bharatanatyam dancer.
4. Breath is easily forgotten because it is so natural for us, and focusing on breath often makes it unnatural! Dancers need to practice how to breathe specifically for dance just as much as we work on strengthening other aspects of our technique. Breathing must be a part of dance technique.

I’m sure that this is largely resolved by becoming a more mature, smarter dancer. At least… such has been my experience, and one that I’m happy to share! 

That said, the last thing on my mind when I’m injured is my breath. My focus– and yours too, I’m sure– is on the physical ability that you have, and regaining what was lost. Breath or breathing isn’t looked at as something to focus on as a part of injury recovery, and I think it’s because we don’t perceive injury to breath as we do an injury to the knee or ankle.

While the time I have to do research on this topic is very, very limited because of the crazy tour schedule-life that I am currently living, rest assured that more on this topic is coming! 

For now, my thoughts on breath are as complete as they can be. I’m going to return to my more scientific discussions on muscle and joint health, and next up is the knee! It’s a topic that I feel is very knee-ded (my apologies for the pun) for dancers… and especially this dancer in particular! Please bear with me while I adjust to this new professional life. For those wonderful readers who keep reading my words and sending me messages: thank you for your support, and there’s more on the way! 

Until then, dancers.