The Hunchback

I watch many of us walk around, including myself, hunched over. We walk looking scared, rolling our shoulders in to protect a heart that's been wounded. We hunch over like we're trying to avoid yet another blow right into the gut from a source we still don't know.
And i watch children walking: glorious, proud, open. With a posture that adults only obtain after deliberate and dedicated practice.
And I often feel like offering a hug to say "I know you felt pain in the past, but you can now let it go now. You need to take the shield off so you can let a gentle breeze in"
My teacher visited Bahrain a couple of years ago and noticed how I taught back bends in nearly every class and I think that's partially why. I look at adult bodies shrinking in fear, contracting in past wounds so bad that I take great pleasure watching them unravel like lotus flowers on pleasant evenings.
And students often report a feeling of restriction, of an inability to breathe deep into the chest, of difficulty taking in the breath. To me that's a sign of not only physical restriction, or merely habit of shallow breathing but also a sign of an inability to "allow life in" so to speak.
Can we trust enough to allow the breath to move in? To allow our feelings to take over us like a temporary wave that will have to eventually pass? Do we trust our hearts to take us through so we can emerge lighter, calmer and willing to try to once more, love like children do?