Humans Can Breathe Under Water

Dear Ed,

When I was little, I used to be taken for the holidays to another part of Bangalore (South India) to relatives’ houses. There, near the house, was a big open well. In those days there were thousands of those all over the place and that’s where people got water from.

The wells used to be wide and have low walls like this.

The low walls were to make it easy for as people to lower pots and buckets into the well and bring up water. However, every now and then, children would fall in, cows, buffaloes, goats… Anyone whose love life crashed would go jump in. By the 90s, suicides got so common they started covering the wells like this, with tarpaulin. It used to take atleast two people to lift the cover off, so I guess that must’ve spoiled things for the people wanting to commit suicide.

Some of these wells weren’t too deep, but some were VERY deep. The one I was telling you about, they said was about 80 feet deep at least but it could’ve been more. They said 80 feet because the rope went to 80 feet.

So between the age of about 5 and 10, Ed, every summer holiday, I would hear this story being repeated. We’d be told how dangerous it was to even go near the well. And we’d be pointed particular boy and told that when he was 5, he’d fallen into the well. The bed of that well was made of shifting sand. Whatever fell in, would, in a matter of minutes be covered by the sand. With the well so wide, nearly 40 feet radius, it would be impossible for the divers to find the child or person or animal in time to save their lives. No one knew how many animals and people were buried in there in those shifting sands.

That boy had falled in, Ed, at the age of five, and the men who usually did the rescue, diving down, had come too late. The boy had gotten covered by the shifting sand at the bottom. My real dad, Patrick, had also been called. He was the well rescue expert, Ed. He jumped in the well and he searched the sand bed for 30 minutes. People repeated it over and over, Ed, year after year. He was at the bed of the well thirty minutes, searching for signs of the child. He saw a HAIR, Ed, a HAIR, and used it to locate the boy’s head, dig him out of the sand and bring him up. That boy actually survived without brain damage and this story was repeated because it was such a miracle.

Now the thing is, Ed, there’s no way my dad was holding his breath thirty minutes. I know this because at another holiday when the kids were jumping in a lake and the mothers were yelling, “Don’t go too far,” I heard my dad joke with his Uncle saying, “How far can they go if they keep coming up to breathe?” And the two of them laughed over it.

My dad grew up in the mountains. They had a river that went underground for a few miles before coming out on the other side of the mountain. The whole tribe, including children, regularly swam underground that entire distance to go to that side of the mountain. It was one of the reasons they never got taken captive like the other tribes that refused to sign treaties with anyone ever. They used to swim underground in the pitch darkness, with all the stuff they were going to sell at the market, tied around their waist. Fruits mostly, but often handmade wooden furniture as well. Imagine swimming underwater for many miles with all of that attached to your waist.

The Guiness record for the longest time anyone has held their breath under water is 24 minutes and 3 seconds. The person who did it, breathed in pure oxygen and not normal air, to do it.

The tribe used to go underwater just before sunrise and come out when the sun was up in the sky. They would dry their clothes in the sun, and then walk downhill to the market reaching there at noon. It was on that walk one day that my father’s mother, my Grandmother disappeared. I wrote about it in my article - Interdimensional rocks. So that was a long time, many hours under water.

My dad and his Uncle used to joke about how the long cloths they used to tie as a turban around their heads when they went to town (the tribe all had long hair), used to come undone sometimes as they were swimming underwater and obstruct the person behind, and start good natured underwater fist fights in the dark. Apparently it was great fun because my dad and his Uncle had a good laugh remembering it.

For them it was an absolute joke when they saw people come up for air. They never even swam on the surface if they got into water. They simply considered it amateurish.

Back then, swimming underwater for long distances wasn’t considered a big deal and people assumed that mountain tribes did that stuff - because nearly all of them did and it was common knowledge. But this has now completely been removed from thug world history and the common consciousness.

We have seen movie upon movie, where the second a human goes under water, the background music changes to make it like he or she has just a few seconds to come back to the surface and breathe. They play heart beat sounds to say that life is now limited. This imagery has gotten so promoted worldwide that no one even expects that a human might actually breathe under water.

The thing is, there’s no way my dad and his Uncle were holding their breath that long. They WERE breathing under water. This was commonly understood then and I never thought it a special topic to even consider.

We’re talking about my own father, Ed, who was going about the place riding his bicycle and pulling people out of wells till 2005. I’m not talking about someone way back in history.

So really Ed, this is how I know humans CAN breathe under water. I don’t know exactly how it’s done. I haven’t even learned yet to breathe properly above water. I’m still recovering from so many shocks delivered to my nervous system, that broke my natural breathing rhythm. My Granddad once told me that the cycle of natural human breath on his home island in the Hebrides off the coast of Scotland, was 28 minutes. He said, one minute for every day of the moon. Breathing in 14 minutes towards full moon minute, breathing out 14 minutes towards new moon minute.

Generational trauma has reduced our breathing cycles to what it is now.

I asked him if the trauma has made our lungs weak and that’s why we breathe so quick and short. He said, “No, it is disconnection of the body’s magnet from the Earth field that makes the body’s magnet (in the deep core) weak, making the metabolism of the body race so that the lungs are in in panic mode expanding and contracting so fast.

He told me that this is why modern music races and why in the past, people enjoyed deep slow music that built up emotion on and on and on. The effect of the short quick breathing is seen in everything in our lives.

It’s my understanding that if we reconnect to the earth field properly we’ll start having a longer breathing cycle and once we get back to natural breathing patterns, whatever those abilities are that my dad and the tribe used to swim underwater will automatically kick in and become possible.

And now, Ed, here are pics of an Instagram post I posted a year or two ago about people who used to breathe underwater.

The quote of Marco Polo’s about the “Abraiaman” the very people my Granddad told me he’d met and witnessed going underwater the whole day communing with other fish and so on, is from the book, “A Political and General History of the District of Tinnevelly in the Presidency of Madras” by Bishop Robert Caldwell, published in 1881.

The place where the Abraiaman used to help pearl divers by negotiating with the fish, is mentioned in another ancient epic, “The Raghuvamsa” by Kalidas. This just happens to be the same mysterious poet who wrote “Meghadootam” that I mentioned in my article on how humans can fly too.

My Granddad broke a lot of rules of how we humans are supposed to be limited. I wrote about his amazing long life of more than 250 years in this book: