Lion Breath and Why the Kids Like It
Alright, this one's a little goofy. Fair warning.
Lion breath is exactly what it sounds like. You breathe in through the nose, then on the exhale you open your mouth wide, stick your tongue out toward your chin, and roar. Not a polite exhale. A real roar, from the belly, like you mean it.
Ruby, my six-year-old, does this at the dinner table. Sticks her tongue all the way out, roars, cracks Eliza up every time. That is not the intended use. The intended use is stress and tension, not getting a laugh at dinner. But I'll tell you what — her exhale is technically correct, full breath out, no holding back, so I let it ride. She's doing the thing right even if the timing's wrong.
Why bother with something this silly
A couple reasons.
First, it forces a full exhale. Remember, the exhale is what does the work here. Your nervous system calms down on the out-breath, not the in-breath. Most people's exhales are shallow and polite. You can't roar shallow and polite. The lion breath makes you empty the tank.
Second, it releases tension in the face and jaw that a lot of people carry without noticing. Go touch your jaw right now. Probably a little clenched, right? We hold stress there and don't even clock it. Sticking your tongue out and roaring stretches all of that — jaw, tongue, the muscles around your eyes if you do it big enough. It's a release valve you can't fake your way through.
Third — and this is the real reason I teach it — it's hard to stay tense and serious while you're doing it. You can be mid-argument with yourself in your own head, wound up tight, and if you actually commit to a lion breath, something in you loosens. It's tough to keep spiraling right after you've roared like an idiot in your kitchen.
How to do it
Nice and simple:
- Sit or kneel however's comfortable. Hands can rest on your knees.
- Breathe in through the nose, normal pace.
- On the exhale, open your mouth as wide as you can, stick your tongue out and down toward your chin, and roar — a real sound, not a whisper.
- Let your eyes go wide too if that feels natural. Whole face gets involved.
- Breathe normal for a second, then do it again. Three to five rounds is plenty.
That's it. No counting, no holding. This one's about commitment, not precision.
Where this actually helps
I use it less at 6am in the garden and more for the moment right after something frustrating happens. Somebody cuts you off. A project falls apart. You slam a cabinet a little harder than you meant to. That's a good lion breath moment — you've already got the charge built up, so let it out through the roar instead of through your voice at somebody who doesn't deserve it.
Here's an example. My neighbor Cameron, tough guy, thought all this breathing stuff was soft — until his back locked up hauling a couch up his stairs. Couldn't stand up straight, could barely get to the garage. I didn't start him on lion breath, that's not the tool for a locked-up back. I showed him a slow cat-cow on the garage floor, moving with his breath, nice and easy. Next day I got a text from him, just a 🤙. That's Cameron for thank you. Man doesn't waste words.
I bring that up here because it's the same idea underneath both tools. Breath matched to what your body's actually dealing with. Cameron's back needed slow and careful. A flash of frustration needs something bigger and faster, something that gets the charge out. Lion breath is built for that second kind of moment.
One real caution
Don't do this one if you're already lightheaded or you've been breathing fast and shallow for a while — same rule as anywhere else in this class, if your body's already amped up, calm it down first with the slow exhale drill, then use lion breath once you're steadier. And obviously, if you've got jaw issues, TMJ, anything like that, don't force the stretch wide. Do a smaller version. The roar matters more than the tongue.
Also — do this one somewhere you won't scare the dog or startle your spouse in the next room. Ask me how I know.
Opinion time
This one leans on something I believe pretty hard: you don't need to clear your mind to get calm. You just need to give your body one clear job. Roar. That's the job. While you're roaring, you are, for about two seconds, not spiraling about the email or the bill or whatever's stuck in your head. That's the whole trick. Not emptiness. Just one small, loud, ridiculous task that crowds everything else out for a second.
Before next time
Try it once tonight, by yourself, somewhere private enough that you won't feel silly. Just to know what it feels like before you need it for real.