Just Breathe: By Diran Avagyan

As a young seminarian, one of the memorable trips I took in Israel was to the Banias Nature Reserve, at the foot of Mount Hermon in the northern Golan Heights. It is a beautiful park with a powerful waterfall, ancient ruins, lush greenery, and pools fed by streams originating from the snowmelt of Mount Hermon. The water in these pools remains around 15°C (59°F) year-round, offering a refreshing contrast to Israel’s blistering summer heat.

I remember visiting on an extremely hot day, with temperatures in the mid-90s. Entering the ice-cold pool was such a shocking contrast that I felt as though I would freeze. It seemed as if my body was shutting down, and within seconds I could no longer feel my toes. Those who had been there before told me to keep moving and take deep breaths. They also recommended that I not stay in the water for more than two minutes. Breathing helped me regulate my body and gradually adapt to the cold.

Interestingly, cold plunges, cryotherapy, and contrast therapy have become quite popular these days. Social media often promotes the health benefits of cold exposure, but I have to admit that the cold shock itself is truly challenging.

Honestly, cold plunges and cryotherapy are not something I would personally practice regularly. Contrast showers, however, are something I have come to enjoy recently. Obviously, they were not enjoyable at all in the beginning. Turning off the hot water immediately brought back the chills I had felt many years ago at Banias. My body tensed, my heart rate increased, and it became difficult to breathe. Every instinct told me to step away from the cold.

Then I remembered what I had learned years ago at Banias: breathe.

As I practiced this daily, over time I noticed that I could remain under the cold water longer and longer. My body adapted faster and faster. The cold did not necessarily become less cold. What changed was my ability to remain in it.

Our lives are full of cold shocks. Every day, we hear or experience things that can feel like a sudden cold shower. These are not only somatic experiences, but whole-person experiences. Instinctively, they make us want to run away, avoid discomfort, or retreat to what feels safe and familiar. Yet sometimes there is nowhere to run.

This is where the simple lesson of breathing becomes helpful. When we learn not to react immediately to the shock, but to remain present and breathe through it, discomfort can gradually give way to endurance and adaptation. We no longer feel the urgency to escape. We stay. We go through it. And eventually, we emerge with a renewed perspective shaped by resilience, endurance, and acceptance of life’s drastic contrasts.

May we all learn to take deep breaths during times of shock and discomfort, and may we find renewal and strength through the One who breathed the breath of life into us.