The Body in ConversationPart 10: The Body Is Always Talking

Abby Lord wearing a black top and blue leggings and pink trainers -jumping off a log in the woods, smiling with arms high

Your diaphragm does not get to work in a laboratory. It gets you, moving, balancing, reacting and adapting.

By now, if you’ve been following this series (if you are starting here you can jump back and read the previous ones):

Diaphragm series 

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3 

Part 4 

Part 5

Part 6 

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9 


you will have worked out that I am never going to let anyone believe that the diaphragm is simply a breathing muscle. Many people I talk to don’t know anything more than that I say “diaphragm” and they say “oh yes, diaphragmatic breathing” and I say “all breathing is diaphragmatic” and the discussion starts.

We started in part 1 and part 2  with something that sounded fairly straightforward, a dome-shaped muscle under the ribs helping us breathe, and then it all got much more interesting. We followed it into the spine, looked at pressure, followed the phrenic nerve down from the neck, wandered off with the vagus nerve through the chest and abdomen, and somehow ended up talking about heart rate, digestion, the nervous system and the way the body is constantly exchanging information without us consciously knowing most of it is happening.

And now I want to make it even messier, because breathing does not stop at the ribs.

You can sometimes see it in someone’s jaw. You can notice it in the way the tongue sits in the mouth. You can watch it change when someone concentrates very hard with their eyes. You can feel it change when they grip with their hands. You can see the whole strategy reorganise when they stand on one leg or shift their weight through their feet. None of that means the jaw, tongue, eyes or feet are somehow secretly controlling the diaphragm, but it does mean that breathing is happening inside a body that is constantly moving, sensing and adapting.

That is the bit I love.

The body is always talking within itself in a very practical, mechanical, neurological way. Information is coming in from the world around us and from inside us all the time, and the nervous system is constantly deciding what matters, what needs attention and what kind of response might be useful. Breathing is woven through all of that rather than sitting separately on top of it.

Take the tongue, for example. Most of us do not think about the tongue when we think about breathing, unless perhaps we have a blocked nose and suddenly become very aware that the mouth has had to take over. But the tongue is closely related to the floor of the mouth, the hyoid region and the shape of the upper airway. It is not simply sitting there waiting for food or conversation. Its position and muscle activity can change with breathing, and that becomes especially obvious when you compare nasal breathing with mouth breathing.

Try it for a moment. Sit comfortably and notice where your tongue is resting without deliberately putting it anywhere special. Breathe through your nose for a few breaths and then open your mouth and breathe through your mouth instead. You may notice that the tongue shifts, the jaw changes, the head moves slightly, or the front of the throat feels different. You may notice very little. Either way, the point is not to find the “right” answer. It is simply to notice that when you change one part of the breathing strategy, other parts of the body may change with it.

The jaw is another place where this becomes very obvious. I see people trying so hard to breathe properly that the whole thing becomes a project. They clench their teeth, lift the chin, push the head forwards, grip the front of the neck and somehow turn a supposedly relaxed breathing exercise into a full-body effort. I am not saying the jaw controls the diaphragm, because it doesn’t, but the jaw, tongue, throat and upper airway are all part of the environment through which breathing happens. 

And of course the same tongue and throat also have to switch roles when we swallow, briefly coordinating the airway and digestive route so that breathing pauses while food or fluid passes safely.

If somebody is gripping there every time they try to take a bigger breath, I want to know why. Are they trying to create stability? Are they concentrating too hard? Is there anxiety in the mix? Is it simply a habit the body has repeated so often that it now feels normal? I do not always need to label it immediately. I just want to notice the conversation.

The same is true of the eyes, which is one of those things that sounds a bit strange until you actually try it. Let your gaze soften and take in the whole room rather than staring at one specific point. Notice your breathing. Then choose one tiny point in front of you and focus on it really intensely. You may find that your breath becomes smaller, your jaw firms, your neck stiffens slightly or your whole body becomes more still. Then soften your gaze again and notice whether anything changes. This is not because looking at one point is bad for your diaphragm. It is because attention changes the context the nervous system is working in, and breathing changes with context. Usually in the animal kingdom and also for us if we are focusing on one spot it is more than likely because we are checking out danger, we could also be checking out a hugely attractive guy or gal - regardless our nervous system shifts focus.

The hands can show the same thing. If you make a strong fist and really squeeze for a few seconds, you may notice that something else joins in. Maybe you hold your breath slightly. Maybe the abdominal wall firms. Maybe the shoulders lift. Maybe the jaw clenches. Maybe the diaphragm tightens. The body has been asked to produce force in one place and it may organise support elsewhere. Again, there is no magical line from the hand to the diaphragm. It is simply another example of the body responding as a whole to a task rather than one part working independently.

Then there are the feet, and this is where things get even more interesting because standing changes the whole problem. The diaphragm is still breathing, but now the body is also balancing and stablising. Even when you think you are standing completely still, there are tiny movements happening all the time. The centre of mass shifts, the ankles respond, the feet respond, the hips respond, and the trunk is constantly adjusting. Breathing itself creates movement in the body, so the nervous system has to manage those respiratory movements while also keeping you upright.

This is why standing on one leg can change the breath. It is why shifting your weight towards your toes or heels can alter what happens through the trunk. It is why someone can breathe beautifully lying on their back and then lose that pattern completely the moment they stand, reach, lift or balance.

And in my opinion that awareness and observation is important.

Someone can look like they are breathing in textbook fashion on the floor. Beautiful rib movement. Lovely expansion. No obvious gripping. Then you ask them to stand up, turn, carry something or balance, and suddenly the whole strategy changes. That does not mean the breathing exercise failed. It means breathing is task-dependent.

The diaphragm has a postural role as well as a respiratory one, so it has to respond differently depending on what the body is being asked to do. This is why I am much less interested in whether somebody can produce one perfect breathing pattern in a quiet room and much more interested in whether their breathing can adapt when life becomes less tidy.

Because life is messy.

We reach. We turn. We carry bags. We climb stairs. We stand on one leg to put our shoes on. We hurry. We get surprised. We laugh. We cough. We brace. We relax. We move through different environments and different nervous system states all day long.

Breathing has to come with us and get involved.

That is probably the biggest shift in how I think about breath work now. I still care about the quality of the breath, but I care just as much about whether that breath can survive movement. Can it adapt when the body changes position? Can it reorganise when more load arrives? Can the person keep breathing when balance becomes more challenging or when they have to create force?

That is the conversation I am interested in.

And this is where all the previous parts of the series start coming back together. The diaphragm is moving inside a trunk whose abdominal wall changes shape. The pelvic floor is responding to pressure. The nervous system is receiving information from the body and the environment. Vision changes attention. The feet are giving information about balance and position. The hands are creating force. The jaw may be gripping because that is the strategy the body currently prefers.

It is all in the same human.

And humans are constantly adapting.

So perhaps the best experiment is not to try to “fix” anything at all. Just notice. Stand comfortably and breathe. Then turn your head. Reach an arm overhead. Shift your weight. Stand briefly on one leg. Make a fist and let it go. Soften your jaw. Notice whether your breath changes.

You might notice loads.

You might notice very little.

Both are useful.

The point is not to prove that every body part is secretly connected to the diaphragm in some magical way. The point is simply to notice that your diaphragm is working inside a body that is constantly receiving information and responding to it.

Try it just now if you are sitting stay sitting and if you are standing stay standing. Bring your awareness to your breathing and rib cage, notice the quality of the breath and the way the ribs move. Now shift your weight to one sitting bone (or buttock) and if you are standing shift all the weight over to one foot. Now notice your breathing, the quality and the movement of the ribs…

Your diaphragm is not working in a sterile lab..

It is a part of you. And you are adapting and moving all the time.

And every time one part of that picture of you changes, the rest of the body has something new to work with.

That is what I mean when I say the body is always talking.

And in Part 11, I want to look at what happens when that conversation changes over time, because the body is incredibly clever at finding another way. Sometimes that adaptability is brilliant. Sometimes the workaround becomes the thing that starts causing trouble.

That is where we are going next!

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The Body in Conversation. Part 11: When the Workaround Becomes the Pattern

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The Body in Conversation. Part 9: The Vagus Nerve - Listening to the Body