A "yoga" pill... have we gone mad?

The following story was constructed based the evidence and data from a recent article published in Nature Neuroscience

Jhang, J., Park, S., Liu, S. et al. A top-down slow breathing circuit that alleviates negative affect in mice. Nat Neurosci 27, 2455–2465 (2024). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41593-024-01799-w

The power within

Alex Miller leaned against the glass wall of his firm’s sleek, open-plan office, his chest tightening with every passing second. Through the haze of his mounting panic, he could hear the muffled chatter of colleagues discussing the final designs for the Aurora Tower project. It was supposed to be his big moment—the presentation that would solidify his reputation as a rising star in architecture. But here he was, breaths coming fast and shallow, palms clammy, heart racing.

"Just breathe," he whispered to himself, gripping the edge of the conference table. But the harder he tried, the worse it seemed to get.

"Alex, you okay?" his boss, Laura, asked, poking her head into the room.

He nodded quickly, masking his distress with a weak smile. "Just need a minute."

The presentation was a disaster. Midway through, Alex froze, stumbling over his words as his vision blurred. By the time he recovered, the clients were exchanging uncertain glances, and Laura had stepped in to salvage the meeting.

"Take some time off," Laura said later that day, her tone firm but kind. "And before you argue, this isn’t a punishment. You’re brilliant, Alex, but you need to get a handle on...whatever this is."

He stared at the referral card she slid across the desk. Serenity Mindfulness Retreats.

"I can’t," he said automatically.

"You can, and you will," she replied. "Just try it."

?

Reluctantly, Alex found himself at the retreat the following weekend. Nestled in the Blue Mountains, the centre was a stark contrast to his world of concrete and steel. The scent of eucalyptus filled the air, and the quiet hum of cicadas provided a soothing backdrop.

During the first group session, the instructor, a calm, silver-haired man named Daniel, introduced a concept Alex found intriguing: the power of the breath.

"Breathing is the only physiological process we can control consciously," Daniel explained. "And by slowing it, we can influence not just our body, but our mind. This isn’t just meditation mumbo-jumbo—this is neuroscience."

Alex’s ears perked up.

Daniel continued, illustrating his point with simple diagrams.

"Inside your brain is a region called the dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, or dACC. It acts like a control tower, managing emotional responses. When you consciously slow your breathing, you activate a neural circuit that connects the dACC to another part of your brainstem, the PnC. This circuit slows your breath and reduces anxiety simultaneously."

"Like flipping a switch?" Alex asked skeptically.

"Exactly," Daniel said. "And these changes aren’t just in your head. GABAergic neurons in the PnC actually calm your body, projecting to areas of the brain responsible for fear and anxiety."

Alex absorbed the information, intrigued despite himself. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope.

?

The next few days were a mix of frustration and small victories. During one session, Daniel guided the group through a breathing exercise: inhale for four counts, exhale for six. At first, Alex struggled, his mind racing with thoughts of work. But as he focused on the rhythm, something shifted. The tightness in his chest eased, and his thoughts grew quieter.

Back home, Alex began incorporating the techniques into his routine. One evening, while rehearsing for a neighbourhood presentation, he felt the familiar wave of panic building. This time, he paused, closed his eyes, and counted his breaths. Slowly, the storm subsided.

A week later, Alex was back at work, preparing for the firm’s biggest pitch yet—a multi-million-dollar project that could redefine their portfolio. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the pressure was palpable.

As he stood outside the conference room, the old fears crept in. What if I freeze again? What if I fail?

But then he remembered Daniel’s words: "Your breath is your anchor."

He closed his eyes and began to breathe. Inhale for four. Exhale for six. He visualised the neural circuit Daniel had described—the dACC like a lighthouse, sending calming signals through the storm of his anxiety.

Inside the boardroom, Alex felt a new sense of control. He started his presentation with confidence, his voice steady, his ideas clear. When a client asked a challenging question, he paused—not out of fear, but to breathe. The answer flowed naturally.

By the time he finished, the room was buzzing with approval. Laura gave him an approving nod, and the clients seemed impressed.

For Alex, the real victory wasn’t the project—it was the knowledge that he had faced his fear and conquered it.

Later that evening, Alex sat on his balcony, watching the city lights flicker like stars. He took a deep breath, savouring the quiet power of the moment.

His journey wasn’t over—he knew anxiety might always be a part of his life. But now, he had a tool, a rhythm within, to guide him through.

Stay Curious!

Mark