Put your phone on Do Not Disturb. On the count of three, take a deep breath and hold it.

One, two, three—hold.

What do you notice? A burning in your chest? Tingling fingers? Are you thinking of how you should get back to that work project that is due today… or why that person you met this weekend hasn’t texted you back?

If you haven’t exhaled yet, go ahead. And take a slow, full breath in.

Now, let’s try something else. Inhale deeply, all the way into your belly. Hold for four, three, two… now exhale for four, three, two… hold for four, three, two… inhale for four, three, two, one.

While you do this, imagine your “happy place,” as Happy Gilmore would call it. Ironically, for the warm-weather ocean lover I am, my peaceful place is an icy winterland: snow falling through a dense forest of fir and evergreens. I’m living out my Disney fantasy—befriending arctic foxes and caribou, snowflakes settling on my eyelashes, everything calm and still.

Breathe normally.

If you found even a moment of peace in that exercise, you’ve already experienced a taste of what freediving can do for your mind. Despite what you might think, freediving isn’t just for elite athletes or adrenaline chasers. For many, including myself, it is a mental health tool.

During a recent freediving retreat in the healing cenotes of Tulum, Mexico, I was reminded of the power of freediving. For a week we pushed beyond our mental and physical limits with daily yoga, meditation, lectures and both in- and out-of-water training. Since earning my Advanced Freediving certification eight years ago, I hadn’t practiced much, instead consumed by technical diving training and underwater photography. I was ready for a challenge.

Our retreat host, U.K.-born Nick Fazah, a PADI Freediving Trainer and co-owner of East Coast Divers in Brookline, Massachusetts, has been diving professionally for over two decades. He teaches everything from recreational to advanced technical diving, but it was freediving where he first felt the greatest mental transformation.

“Freediving really provides this ability to be mindful,” he explains. “You can’t muscle through a freedive, you have to be mindful—of your breath, your positioning in the water, your heartbeat, your softness. That relaxation you’re trying to maintain through the dive itself—that's all part of it.”

The presence that freediving demands brings a rare sense of peace for Fazah, who experiences constant mental chatter, which he calls "angry monkeys" in his head. “When I’m training for freediving, it helps a lot with things like anxiety,” he says, “just getting out of my head and being present.”

Related Reading: Why You Should Never Skip Freediving Safety Protocols

A Shift in Motivation

Since the early 2000s, mindfulness practice has become increasingly popular, and as it gains more attention in the media, Fazah has noticed a shift in why people sign up for freediving classes. At the beginning, most students were chasing depth, time or spearfishing goals. “Dive deeper, longer or rah rah rah or more bravado,” as he puts it. “And it wasn’t gender-specific.”

Now, students are showing up with different motivations—and a willingness to be more vulnerable. People come and say, “I've been struggling, I've been having a hard time. And I've heard that freediving is something that helps settle the mind and bring peace to a lot of people.”

He sees this shift as part of a bigger trend: more people are acknowledging their mental health, which helps chip away at the lingering stigma. “When I was growing up, it was very much like, ‘boys don’t cry.’ I wanted to be a man, so I hid my emotions. And that sucks. It’s not healthy.”

Freediving provides a unique approach to exploring our mental and physical well-being. By exploring our mental and physical well-being through freediving, we can find peace. Fazah calls this a “huge win” and adds with a smirk, “outside of just being fun and really cool to do, you look sexy in the water with your slippery wetsuit and your cool long fins, it's an attractive sport, but it’s also a healing one.”

Tactical Reintegration Project

In 2018, Fazah founded the nonprofit Tactical Reintegration Project (TRP), a nonprofit originally built to scuba-certify veterans, active service personnel and Gold Star families. Over time, the program has evolved to include freediving training and wellness-based activities like climbing and skiing.

“There’s a proven correlation between diving and freediving and people who suffer with things like post-traumatic stress disorder and high anxiety because it provides a sensory experience that again allows them to be mindful.”

The results have been powerful. Fazah says he’s “seen lives change through these experiences, and the program continues to grow as more people seek healing in nature-based, community-driven activities.”

Sharing the Struggle

If you follow Fazah on social media, you’ve likely come across one of his long, heartfelt posts where he shares personal reflections on his personal struggles.

“It's multi-beneficial, because it helps me vocalize these things. And it helps others see that we're not all these massive superheroes.”

Fazah reminds us not to trust everything we see online—and remember we all carry our own demons. “I have a fantastic life,” Fazah admits, “I get to travel the world and meet incredible people. But on the other side of that is this massive struggle, and these dark clouds that nobody ever gets to see.”

I’m one of many students, friends and followers who have felt comfort in his words. These days, we send each other memes about neurodivergence, and I find solace knowing I’m not the only one who comes to him for support, guidance or even just a laugh.

Fazah tells the story of a former student who showed up at the dive shop, gave him a hug, and said his posts helped them finally explain their own feelings to their therapist.

Related Reading: Why You Should Never Skip Freediving Safety Protocols

“That one really got me,” he admits. “I think that’s what it’s about—putting language to what we feel, so it doesn’t hold power over us anymore.”

Whether it’s spending 20 minutes practicing breath exercises or spending the day at the pool or ocean, thousands of people are turning to freediving for relief. “For those three hours that I'm in the water training, I'm not just freediving, I'm forcing myself to be positive about myself,” Fazah says. “And that's hard to do. But it gets a little easier each time.”

Now, when I’m confronted by my own “angry monkeys” bouncing around in my head, shouting their negative juju, the first thing I turn to is my freediving training. The yogic breathwork, visualization techniques and, if available, cool-water immersion have the power to ignite my mammalian dive reflex and slow my heart rate instantly.

I’ll be honest—it can be hard to stay motivated, even for completing something as simple as a 20-minute training session lying on the ground practicing CO₂ tables with the STAmina Apnea Trainer app. But every time I do, it doesn’t take long before I feel that release—a softening of the mind and body that chips away, even just a little, at the decades of anxiety rooted in my personal fear: “I’m not good enough.”

Putting this in words has taken me over a year. I hope sharing my experience helps others to see the power of freediving (or even scuba—which becoming a dive pro during my most stressful years in grad school kept me sane). My desire to progress in freediving has also guided me toward holistic ways of managing anxiety.

With practices like meditation and mindfulness, it can be challenging to see tangible results. But in freediving, the progress is visible—you set goals, you reach new “personal bests,” and each step forward is deeply tied to mental health. When I reached 83 feet (25.3 meters) during the cenote freediving camp with Fazah, it wasn’t because I’d spent hours in the gym "muscling through". It was because I trained my mind and discovered a new depth, both physically and mentally, that I hadn’t thought possible.

The day after crushing my personal bests, I floundered. At first, I blamed this self-described “failure” on my plastic fins and old mask. But as I rested on the float, gazing up at the mystical world of the cenotes—light rays rippling across ancient rocks—I no longer felt discouraged. Instead, I felt happiness in knowing what I was capable of.

That taste of freedom—finally descending without the looming fear of death (I know, extreme anxiety)—was more than a physical milestone. It was a mental breakthrough. Just one small chip at the larger masterpiece. There’s still work ahead, but I know I have the strength.

Disclaimer: Do not attempt freediving without proper training and equipment, and always dive with a buddy. To start your freediving journey visit padi.com/education/freediving.