I met Professor Buteyko when I went to New Zealand in 2000.

He was a delightful man, with a wonderful sense of humor. He regaled us with stories. He lectured us on overbreathing: His, ours and everyone elses, vacilating from gentle reproach to extreme and agitated frustration.

He had a child's curiosity and joy. He was thrilled to put his hand into the Pacific Ocean, delighted in meeting Maoris.

I am honored to have been in his presence. And very, very lucky to have had the opportunity to train with him.

I was first contacted by Charlotte in September 2000. She had read about Buteyko and wanted to know more. She took the course.
She didn't have asthma. She snored. She was happy when her snoring diminished and disappeared. She was really happy when her (unbeknownst to me at that time) hyperventilation attacks went, when her digestive problems improved. She had more energy. She could run up the stairs to the El without getting winded. She felt better. She slept better. Better than she had in years.
And she started talking about Buteyko. She asked me to come to Chicago to teach a class. She hounded her friends, she posted information on the Feldenkrais bulletin board. She talked to her clients, to total strangers on the street, in buses, on the El.

She thought endlessly about breathing. Buteyko made sense to her and she wanted to understand it all. She pounded me with questions. She argued with me. She called me with 'great ideas'. She sometimes drove me nuts! And she told anyone who would listen (and even those who wouldn't) to close their mouths and breathe through their noses. She wanted to be a practitioner and planned to coordinate the training in Chicago this August.

I went to see Charlotte after she died, to tell her good bye, and how much I'll miss her. I wish I had told her more while she was alive.
She was a dedicated worker for Buteyko, a devoted mother, the Rock of Gibralter for her family and friends.

Most of us didn't even know she was sick until near the end. She didn't tell people. And when she did, they came. They came by the hundreds, because they all knew what a special person she was and how much she cared and had done for them.

We will all miss her terribly.
Her family.
Her friends.
And Buteyko.