Breathe Full Web Series

[Edelmira Bendorf]

Allowapproximately 7-10 business days before your Special Order item ships. Special Order items ship separately, which may result in additional shipping charges. Exact shipping will be charged on each shipment.

Shawna Songer Gaines, MDiv, serves as the lead pastor of Trevecca Community Church in Nashville, Tennessee. She previously served as chaplain at Trevecca Nazarene University, as co-pastor of Bakersfield Church of the Nazarene in California, and as a youth pastor in Chicago. She is the author of the Breathe series and the coauthor of two books, A Seat at the Table and Kings and Presidents, with her husband, Tim. Shawna speaks and preaches at events nationwide, and blogs at shawnasongergaines.com.

The POWERbreathe K5 is the most advanced Inspiratory Muscle Training device of the K-Series range. With the ability to connect to the advanced Breathe-Link Live Feedback software, you have a sophisticated testing, training and monitoring breathing training system.

The tapered flow enables you to perform a longer inspiration and use a wider range of breathing muscles so you achieve higher flow and higher tidal volumes for better results. It achieves this by automatically adapting to increases in your inspiratory muscle strength at the beginning of each training session. What this means is that the training load is highest at the start of your inhalation and then gradually decreases as your lungs fill with air.

POWERbreathe IMT breathing training is drug-free, suitable for almost anyone and should cause no harmful side effects when used properly. Please read the following precautions and contraindications to ensure that POWERbreathe IMT is used safely and appropriately. You must always consult your healthcare professional before embarking on any new form of exercise and this includes POWERbreathe breathing training.

The K-Series automatically estimates your training load at the beginning of every training session. Using this method, the device will adjust the training load every time you start a new session and as the strength of your inspiratory muscles increases. Automatic setup of this load takes place during the first two breaths of each training session.

It really varies based on the user e.g. trainer, private individual, as well as personal needs.We offer a calibration service to meet the needs of the respective groups. Individuals may wish to have this service for peace of mind in the knowledge that their device is functioning correctly. However, due to calibration being a chargeable service, you may choose not to.

Variety exclusively reported that the series had been ordered at the streamer back in February. Barrera will star as Liv, a razor-sharp Manhattan attorney who finds herself profoundly out of her comfort zone when her small plane crashes in the Canadian wilderness and she must battle for survival.

So think of it this way: our brain is signaled to breathe when we are low on O2 and high on CO2. With swimming, we cannot change our strokes to breathe more than one inhale at a time without disrupting our technique or reducing our speed. So the key is dealing with our increased CO2 levels. This is where exhalation comes in.

Much of my engagement with a text consists of me speculating about the methods used by the writer in the putting together of the text, or about the feeling and beliefs that drove the writer to write the text, or even about the life story of the writer.

What I am about to tell you today is the sort of detail that I would have been eager to know if it had been my fate to be a person who was drawn to read these books (points to the stack of his books near by) rather than the person who was drawn to write them.

I have been as far north from my birthplace as Murwillumbah in New South Wales and as far south as Kettering in Tasmania; as far east as Bemm River in Victoria and as far west as Streaky Bay in South Australia. The distance between Murwillumbah in the north and Kettering in the south is about 1500 km. It so happens that the distance between Streaky Bay in the west and Orbost in the east is about the same. Until I calculated these distances a few days ago, I was quite unaware that my travels had been confined to an area comprising almost a square, but my learning this was no surprise to me.

I become confused, or even distressed, whenever I find myself among streets or roads that are not arranged in a rectangular grid or are so arranged but not so that the streets or roads run approximately north-south and east-west. Whenever I find myself in such a place, I feel compelled to withdraw from social intercourse and all activities other than what I call finding my bearings. These I try to find by reference to the sun or to roads or streets the alignments of which are known to me. I know I have found my bearings when I can visualise myself and my surroundings as details of a map that includes the northern suburbs of Melbourne and such prominent east-west or north-south thoroughfares of those suburbs as Bell Street or Sydney Road.

My trying to find my bearings takes much mental effort, and I fail more often than I succeed. I often believe I have succeeded but later refer to maps and find that my visualised map was wrong. When I discover this, I feel compelled to attempt a complicated exercise that I have probably never succeeded at. I am compelled first to recall the scene where I tried to find my bearings, then to recall the visualised map that proved to be wrong, and last to try to correct my remembered self, as it were: to relive the earlier experience but with the difference that I get my correct bearings. I sometimes feel this compulsion many years after the original event. While writing these notes, for example, I was compelled to recall the evening in November 1956 when I visited for the first time the suburb of Brighton, on Port Phillip Bay. It was my last day of secondary school, and my class had to meet at the home of the school captain and later to take a train into Melbourne to see a film. I arrived in Brighton by bus, in the company of boys who knew their way around that quarter of Melbourne. Later, when our class arrived on foot at Brighton Beach railway station, I stood with them on the platform where they had gathered, but I was convinced that we were waiting for the train from Melbourne. After the train had arrived and we had boarded, I remained convinced for some time that we were travelling away from Melbourne, and my peace of mind was continually disturbed during the rest of the evening by my wondering how I had so utterly lost my bearings at the railway station. Just now, as I said, I was compelled to relive that experience of more than forty years ago, but I failed yet again to understand how the map of Melbourne in my mind had been stood on its head.

I have no sense of smell and only a rudimentary sense of taste. When I hear or read of a thing as possessing a smell or an aroma, I feel no sense of deprivation but imagine at once a barely visible emanation from the thing: a mist or a cloud of droplets, always distinctively coloured: delicate colours for aromas said to be faint or subtle, and rich colours for strong smells.

I am often able to remember the appearance on the page of a passage that has interested me. If I try to learn by heart any poetry or prose, I do so by visualising the printed page and reading it in my mind. When, in 1995, I began to learn the Hungarian language, I used both textbooks and cassettes and I conversed with native speakers. Even so, I always see written in the air, as it were, the words of my conversations nowadays in Hungarian; and whenever I recite from memory the Hungarian poems that I know, I always see the poems printed on the pages that I learned them from.

I have been told that when I mention some person or thing out of sight I often point in the direction in which I suppose the person or thing to be while I speak. I seem to do this just as readily for persons or things on the other side of the world as for persons or things in an adjoining room. I have often been observed pointing towards the presumed dwelling-place or site of some person or event from the past.

I have watched few films during my lifetime and hardly any in recent years. Throughout my life, I have had much trouble in following the story lines of films and making the necessary connections between the rapidly changing images. I have watched no more than a half-dozen live theatrical performances during my lifetime and none during the past twenty-five years. I recall little of what I watched. I have never watched an opera.

On almost every occasion when I have watched a film or a theatrical performance, I have been made to feel embarrassed and uncomfortable by the exaggerated facial expressions, the excessive gestures, and the frank speech of the characters, and I have been relieved afterwards to resume my life among persons who seem to use facial expressions and gestures and speech as much as I use them: in order to conceal true thoughts and feelings.

I have never learned to swim. I have never voluntarily immersed myself in any sea or stream. I have sometimes stared at running water in small rivers or in creeks inland, but I have never felt any urge to contemplate any part of any sea. I was told only five years ago by my mother that I was taken to the seaside for the first time at the age of six months, that I began to scream as soon as I saw and heard the sea, and that I went on screaming until I was taken out of sight and hearing of it.

And yet I seem to have a fear of the systems devised by other people, or if not a fear, then an unwillingness to engage with those systems or to try to understand them. I have never touched any button or switch or working part of any computer of fax machine or mobile telephone. I have never learned how to operate any sort of camera. (I am able, however, to operate several kinds of photocopier, and I do so often.) In 1979 I taught myself to type using the index finger of my right hand alone. Since then, I have composed all my fiction and other writing using the finger just mentioned and one or another of my three manual typewriters.

3a8082e126