Janet Aldrich, singing “NYC” with the original Daddy Warbucks, Reid Shelton, Krista Neuman as Grace Farrell and Kristi Coombs as Annie in the 2nd National Tour of ANNIE
Breathing is Everything
I am continually reminded how important breathing is these days. I’ve been tweeting for 4 years that whenever my favorite late night comedy host goes on vacation, “I can’t breathe”. I need laughter to breathe more than ever now in this time of threats of COVID-19 ventilators, climate change and the increased asthma rates, and most of all, Black Lives Matter. We take breathing for granted, but for some, it’s a constant challenge. The New York Times article on breathing supports my thinking, it seems.
Learning to Breathe
The first time I remember thinking about how to breathe was when I was 6 years old and on a swim team at a local pool. My oldest brother held the record for freestyle in 2 states, so it was swim team for me, I thought. Everyone was so proud of him. I wanted that. I remember the coach, standing on the pool deck, leaning over and demonstrating how to breathe under his armpit while doing the freestyle stroke. I thought, “well, duh. I’m not going to try to breathe underwater…”.
I spent probably 10 hours a day every summer day there was not a thunderstorm, in a pool.
I spent probably 10 hours a day every summer day there was not a thunderstorm, in a pool. To this day I love the smell of chlorinated water, the color of a pool, the sound of splashing, the feel of floating in water. These make me smile and relax, and breathe deeply. When I was in the pool, I would play vastly intricate games. I would swim in an underwater toy store, pushing an imaginary shopping cart between the lane lines painted on the bottom of the pool. Usually swimming in outdoor pools, being in the pool was where I couldn’t smell my parents’ cigarette smoke, only fresh air and chlorine. I recall one swim team workout in early adolescence when Coach worked us on sprints and I discovered I could sweat in a pool from swimming hard. I crawled out of that practice, limp, my lungs burning for the first time I remember, from exercise.
The Breathing Challenge
When I was 13, I started hanging out with non-athletes who made me laugh. They smoked cigarettes. Everyone in my family smoked, the smell was familiar, and in my young mind, even loving. The midair-level of our family room was always a haze of smoke. Age 13 is also when I quit swim team. The burning sensation in my lungs had become frequent and uncomfortable. And my body had changed. I was no longer streamlined, could no longer keep up my record-breaking times in swim meets and I began losing. My brother’s success would not be mine.
When I was a freshman in high school, my Chorus teacher caught a friend and me smoking in the girls room. I was suspended and sent to the local hospital to see the actual preserved lung of someone who died of lung cancer. And yet I was still a smoker. Then, I developed a terrible case of bronchitis. I was feverish, delirious, hysterical, terrified. My mother came into my bedroom, cigarette in hand, concerned about me, and not knowing what to do. She called my brother John, who was living nearby, and he came to my bedside with a healer. They laid hands on me, talked me through my first meditation, and helped me use my breath to calm down with deep, slow breaths. Then, of course, I was put on antibiotics and I recovered, but it felt like my lungs had learned a new way to taunt me, torture me, remind me of their importance. Ever since then I have been susceptible to terrible bronchitis. Rarely has a cold left my body without first becoming bronchitis. And when I cough, I sound just like my mother.
I quit smoking cigarettes at the ripe age of 15 while battling another case of bronchitis. This time, I forced myself to smoke a cigarette every hour. It hurt, tasted like rotten eggs, and made me cough until my fingertips tingled. I quit smoking for life.
Inspiration
It was around this time my Mom saw how much I loved to sing and encouraged me to take singing lessons. I learned a new way, and purpose, to breathe deeply. And people seemed to like the power, the sound of my singing. As a young child I remember my mother complaining, “Jan, dear, your voice carries!!” after repeated passive-aggressive recommendations like “Little girls should be seen and not heard”. I found these statements problematic to adopt. I had 3 brilliant, funny and very different older brothers, no sisters, and I struggled to feel worthy of being heard. They were so hilarious, they all played the guitar and sang, and made my parents laugh. Why was my speaking loudly a problem? NOT speaking felt like a much bigger problem. So singing became the way for me to communicate, to join my family, and the best way to feel heard.
By the time I was 24, I was touring with the Broadway musical, ANNIE, as the Star To Be, belting out my solo in the song called “NYC”. I truly was receiving agreement from the Universe that my voice, and therefore my breath, my life, mattered. I joined the Broadway company as the Star To Be within 2 years, and became a Broadway Actor and Singer.
Nearly 40 years later, I am the same person, breathing deeply, breaking into song almost anywhere, and a little wiser, I hope.
Breathing Is Everything.
Now, when I hear someone say, “I can’t breathe!” I feel it personally. I feel my chest tighten and experience a panic like no other. Breathing is everything. For God’s sake, listen to them.
