“The burp is a belly gust who can’t find his way to your butt,” my grandma used to say. Imagine! If all our burps were more farts instead? I’m glad the wind gets two exits to choose from.
Folk wisdom be damned, however, both my grandma and mom always made sure my sister would get in a little burp after she had drunk her milk as a baby. I’m certain they did the same with me. A bit of bobbing, wiggling, maybe a soft pat on the back and…burp! Ahh, that’s better.
Several decades later, my burp management is in my own hands—yet it’s still fascinating how liberating a good burp can feel. I’m not talking about belching the alphabet, of course. Just a little bloop, and from your belly to your nose, the pathways are free.
Nowadays, almost every morning after my crunches, I sit up and, instead of launching straight into my stretching exercises, I wait for a moment. It’s probably all the stomach movement, but it’s a common situation for the wind to make an appearance, and it’s so much easier to just let it through than to struggle with rumbling air in my belly while contrived in some strenuous position.
I’ve noticed the same happening when I’m looking down, to the side, or am in any way contorted: If the burp can’t come out pleasantly, it will leave discomfort in its wake instead. At worst, a burp can turn into a mini-vomit or trigger acid reflux.
Sometimes, we try our best but don’t manage to adjust in time. At other times, we hope to push through. To impose our own timeline on the wind. Of course, neither our clock-y companion nor the air will be subdued, and so, really, the only solution is to go back to that early piece of parenting advice: You might no longer need bobbing, wiggling, or a soft pat on the back, but whatever the position required, you simply get out of the way.
Bruce Lee once wrote about inviting the wind. Since we can’t force him, our only option was to leave the window open, he said. Well, the same applies on the way out: Let the wind through, and, before you know it, you’ll be back on your way.
