The ultimate breathing practice

For some reason, people into breathwork take the subject very seriously—often describing breathing as dysfunctional, coherent, or restorative. Those are heavy titles for something as light as air. So, I decided to adopt a less serious attitude and put together a few breathing jokes. If all goes well and you laugh, you’ll be practicing the ultimate breathing exercise.

My girlfriend and I traveled to an ashram in South India to see a famous guru. One evening, we consulted with him in private and shyly explained that we had difficulty agreeing on a contraceptive.
The guru wobbled his head from side to side and said, “There is a special breathing method with which you can prevent pregnancy.”
My girlfriend looked at me with excitement. Being practical, I asked, “Is it the man or the woman who should perform this breathing?”
“It can be man or woman; you choose,” replied the guru.
My girlfriend said, “To feel safe, I prefer to do the breathing. But when should I do it—before, during, or after sex?”
The guru replied, “Not before, definitely not after; you should do this breathing instead of sex.

A crack in the wall between Heaven and Hell widened over the years. The people from Heaven politely asked the people from Hell to seal it, saying: “It’s difficult for us to breathe the air leaking in from your side. It smells bad, and everyone here is coughing.”
The people from Hell replied: “If it bothers you, seal it yourselves! We breathe this air and have no problem whatsoever.”
They argued back and forth until the people from Hell finally agreed to settle the matter in court. It was, of course, the people from Hell who won the case. Why? Because all the best lawyers reside in Hell.

Was talking to this lawyer, whom I met at a party, and told him that people keep asking me questions during social events about how to improve their breathing. I asked him if he had the same problem with people seeking free legal advice.
The lawyer said: “Yes, it happens to me all the time.”
I asked: “So, what do you do?”
He replied: “Well, I send them bills.”
I complimented the lawyer: “Excellent idea!”
Three days later, I got an email with a bill.

Last week, I wrote to the tax office: “I feel guilty and have difficulty breathing because of cheating on my taxes; I underreported my income. Enclosing a check for $1200. If my breathing problem continues, I’ll send the rest.”

Someone called from my bank’s security and fraud department and said: “I’m sorry to inform you, but it seems from recent bank withdrawals that your wife’s credit card got stolen.
I breathed a sigh of relief and told the bank official: “It’s OK; the thief will surely spend less than my wife does.
The official replied: “According to the pattern of withdrawals, it looks like the thief’s wife is using the card.”

Told this breathwork coach that I can lift a 50kg rice bag off my belly using only my diaphragm. He was blown away—up until he saw me using an empty bag.

My grandfather used to say that the secret to longevity was to keep breathing for as long as you possibly can. I’m following this advice strictly, and so far, it has yielded excellent results.

Grandmother and my little sister Sara were walking along the beach when, out of nowhere, a massive wave swept Sara out to sea. When Grandma realized Sara was gone, her breathing turned rapid and shallow. She fell to her knees, looked up to the heavens, and sobbed, “God, please! Bring my granddaughter back. I’ll pray every day, I’ll give to charity, I’ll fast once a week—please, please, have mercy!”
Instantly, another big wave spat Sara back to shore. Relieved, Grandma looked at Sara from top to toe, then shifted her gaze to the sky, and shouted: “Excuse me, she was wearing a hat!”

Here’s another ending with a moral to this joke: …and shouted: “Never mind, I found her.”

When my grandfather was lying on his deathbed, faintly breathing, the family gathered around him. He opened one eye with great effort and asked: “Is Sara here?”
“Of course, I’m here,” Sara replied.
“Where’s David?” he asked with a fading voice.
David answered: “I’m here, right next to you.”
“And Dan?” he asked while gasping.
We replied, “All of us are here beside you.”
My grandfather suddenly opened his eyes wide, made a sharp inhale, and asked loudly, “Then who is taking care of the shop!!!?”

I had been coughing for quite a long time. Finally, my lungs were scanned at the hospital, and I was called in to get a diagnosis. I walked into the medical specialist’s room, and after I sat down, the doctor said, “I have good news and bad news.”
Of course, I asked for the good news first. The doctor said, “They’re going to name a lung disease after you.”

Once they finished operating on my nasal septum, I was sent to the recovery room. After about an hour, I informed the nurse that I was feeling well and was ready to go home. She said, “Breathe deeply and stay calm; you’re still not ready to get the bill.”

According to the book Extra Ordinary Breathing Tools, couples can achieve deep intimacy through humming OM together, so we tried it. My wife remarked: “You should hum with ‘more feelings.” Guess she wanted me to sound like our emotionally available microwave.

I started believing that the great powers of breathwork could change my future. When I told my wife that it also started affecting my past, she suggested I go and talk to a shrink.

Being a hypochondriac during the pandemic, I told my wife, “It aches every time I take a breath.” Without looking up from her book, she said, “Then try not breathing for a while.”

Before going to the supermarket, my wife asked me if I needed anything.
I said: “Yes, please get my syrup for reducing hyperventilatory breathing symptoms.”
She asked: “Red or white wine?”

A burglar broke into our house and drew a circle on the floor with a piece of chalk. He then commanded my wife and me, “Get into the circle and stay there. The only thing you’re allowed to do is breathe; otherwise, it’s the end of you!”
The burglar quickly collected our valuables into a sack and escaped. Soon after he left, my wife screamed: “Why didn’t you do anything?”
I said in my defense: “Didn’t you see how many times I took my foot out of the circle?”

An older couple died in a car accident and went up to Heaven. The angel in charge of accommodation showed them their new residence. It was a fancy villa with a beautiful garden and a large swimming pool. After settling down, the husband said to his wife: “You and your breathing exercises; we could have been here ten years ago.”

This man was sprinting in horror through the streets of a Middle Eastern dictatorship. A friend stopped him, asking, “Why are you running like the devil is chasing you?”
Gasping for air, the runner replied, “The government just passed a new law—anyone with three testicles gets thrown in prison!”
The friend looked at him, confused. “But you only have two.”
The runner replied, “Here, first they cut, then they count!”

A zebra showed up to my drop-in breathwork class. During the break, I said, “Wow, I’ve never seen a zebra practice breathing techniques.”
The zebra looked at me and replied, “I don’t think you’ll see one again with the prices you charge.”

Two elephants saw a naked man walking in the jungle. One elephant said to the other with amazement: “How on earth can he breathe through that thing?”

I was holding my breath when I read in the newspaper that a ship carrying twenty tons of yo-yos sank into the ocean eleven times.

When I was young, the air was clean, and at the workplace, it was okay to make dirty remarks; now it’s the other way around.

All my life, I thought air was free—until I bought a bag of potato chips.

I was practicing the Breath of Fire exercise when I accidentally broke wind. It was then and there that it struck me: the gurus were right—true liberation comes from within.