Executive Coach, Life Coach...Breathing Coach?

One usually does not need to be reminded to breathe, and that's part of the problem.

I've been reading some very solid material the past couple of months that emphasizes the value of paying attention to one's breathing. And although mentally I "get it" when it comes to the positive, mind-calming benefits of this practice in the face of the daily grind, it is quite difficult to put it into consistency. It's quite difficult for most of the populace, from what I can tell.

The modern classic Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind by Suzuki is one key text that describes the powerful simplicity found both in breathing and sitting in the lotus position. The point of this practice, Suzuki stresses, is not to reach enlightenment but for the practice to be enlightenment itself. The practice is the means and the end, the inner stillness it allows the goal rather than the tangible benefits the stillness might lead us to grasp. To breathe is to live, and to be aware of such breathing is to be aware of the fullness of life rather than simply existing as a task doer. 

Again, I get it all intellectually...but I think I need a breath coach. Not because my breath is bad; as far as I know, it is not (please correct me if you've observed otherwise!). More accurately, I could benefit from a breathing coach, someone who taps me on the shoulder several times per day--or per hour--and reminds me to become mindful of my breathing. (Such a person truly might become annoying after a little while and in need of dismissal, but if he or she helps the habit to become ingrained then so be it.)

The step of faith such a person could help me take is trusting that I can simultaneously be aware of my breathing and effective at the task at hand. Perhaps it might even change my viewpoint toward the task at hand--or maybe even the choice of the task itself.

I know what Suzuki would tell me, were he still alive. I am the breathing coach. The responsibility, much like the answers to life's biggest conundrums, is often close at hand. Sort of like breathing.