One thing that excites me and makes me curious about journaling is the unexpected “Aha!” or “Oh shit!” moment that can happen. Today was an “Oh shit!” kind of experience. As the words hit the page, I saw myself guarding and protecting my heart so I didn’t go very far into my writing after that. I felt a squeeze and a wobbly sensation in my chest so I slowed down so I could be present with what was coming up. The simple awareness and the sensations that arose were enough for me to pause and offer myself some gentleness and self-compassion. In doing so, it was a reminder to my heart that I’m listening and I’m there for her.
I invite you to check in with your heart today.
What comes up for you?
I’m stuck again. The frustration is building in my body, the pressure is there, but no release just yet. Then I remember, the feeling of stuck happens more often than not. When I’m in a more open space in my mind and body, I think that I’ve hit the jackpot and that things will always be flowing. I know it doesn’t work that way, but I forget because it feels so good.
Given that it’s springtime, I reflect on the feeling of stuck in a different way. Maybe whatever will emerge from this sensation isn’t ready to bloom just yet and the tension and stuckness is a sign that things are getting ready. A sense of anticipation emerges in my body. Using my imagination at this point, because the sensation is still stuck, how would it move if it could? What are the qualities of it – shape, texture, color, size?
Springtime gives space to hopefulness, play and discovery. As we transition into this season, I invite you to use your imagination and explore what’s happening in your body in relation to those themes. Go outside and let your eyes wander for a bit. Maybe some gentle movement brings another experience. Perhaps it’s about bringing quiet into the space so you can listen to what your body is telling you (i.e. sensations!). Stay curious and be kind to yourself this season and always.
Over the past few days, I noticed my emotions come up like a slow moving current that was building in speed and intensity. Needless to say I was pulled in, tumbling around with the intense feelings moving through me.
I asked for help but that didn’t work out the way I thought it would so I got swept into the current again. Reaching out was important but it was as if holding on to the emotions was more comforting. I wasn’t ready to let that go of that familiarity just yet.
Speaking of letting go, Yung Pueblo describes it as “the moment when you are no longer reacting to things that used to make you feel tense…when you can release the energy attached to the thoughts.” After reading that, I noticed a spark of curiosity and hope. That was enough for me to take the smallest step back and notice all that was going on.
The same feelings will show up over and over again in different ways. Next time, I can remember to take some time and space to ground myself in the moment. With intention and practice, I can let go a bit more than the time before.
I keep declining the invitation to slow down and practice stillness. I can hear the thoughts come easy like a cool breeze through an open window, “not now”, “maybe later”, “after I do this thing”, etc. It makes me sad to think about because the invitation is actually to be with myself. I hear another thought “But I’m with me all the time!” It reminds me of putting my kiddo to bed last night. I’m reading through a work email and she fusses at me to put down my phone to give her my full attention. I know that she’s right and I get irritated because I still want to be right.
Eventually, I surrender to the moment and accept the invitation. I step away from the never ending to-do list and I start to slow down. First, I get water and I realize I haven’t had any all day. Next, I journal. If I’m going to show up, I’m not bringing this freight train of thoughts with me. With each step I get closer to myself and further away from everything else. My senses get a little more alert. I can now notice my breathing and gently guide it to be slower and steadier than before. Sometimes things happen when I get still, sometimes nothing happens. Either way, I’m happy to have shown up.
Give yourself permission to ease into stillness over time and with practice. Accept the invitation as often as you can. When you accept, you build a relationship with yourself that is rooted in trust and patience.
If you’d like to have access to additional resources on topics like this, please make sure that you are signed up for my newsletter (scroll to the bottom of the page to sign up). I’ll be launching a new series in a few weeks!
When we feel stress or overwhelmed in our bodies, sometimes we want to do anything but sit with it. But here we are, with this invitation to be with what arises in our bodies, not ignoring it or avoiding it any longer. I feel the stress and overwhelming feelings stronger on certain days when my mind is especially active. Today, I decided to sit with it. Here’s what I noticed:
The Active Mind
As I sat, my mind kept saying “I need to do…”, “Don’t forget…”, “What if…”. To me, these thoughts sound like fear, worry, and unease. As much as I want to explore all that, I gently reminded myself that the thoughts are just “thinking” and brought my attention back to my breathing, back to my body.
When I brought my attention back to my breathing, I noticed that my breath was short, that I was holding in my abdomen, and my chest muscles were tense. My breathing definitely reflected what was going on in my body. So I slowed down my breathing, steadied the inhales and exhales, and breathed deeper into my lungs. As I slowed down, I breathed into the spaces that felt tight and tense.
Let Go of the Outcome
After sitting with it, I felt more relaxed and calm in my body. My breathing was steadier and my thoughts didn’t feel as urgent. I sat with what was coming up and I was okay! Sometimes after a meditation, the outcome isn’t always so positive and that’s okay as well. I’ve had times where I left a meditation with tears in my eyes and maybe even more frustrated and tense than before.
This invitation to be with whatever arises is a brave choice. It’s brave because you are choosing to do something that you may tend to ignore or avoid. You are choosing to turn towards it without being attached to the outcome, to be open with what comes up, and to do your best- whatever that looks like for you that day.
I’ve been reading Pema Chodron’s book, Comfortable with Uncertainty, and one of the things I like about it, aside from the massive amounts of wisdom she shares, is that you could open the book to any page and have some connection to the teachings. One of those teachings was on compassion.
Chodron tells the story about cultivating compassion by way of a 19th century yogi, Patrul Rinpoche. First, I’d like to talk about what compassion is. Compassion is defined as sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others. The question is, as we cut through the surface level of those words, how do we embody the practice? How do we really start to feel the physical sensations of compassion in our bodies?
Back to yogi, Patrul Rinpoche- he would suggest an image to focus on to tune in to compassion. The image is of a mother with no arms watching as a raging river sweeps away her child. To practice compassion is to connect with another’s pain. In this story, can you imagine yourself in the mother’s shoes? When you try to imagine that for yourself, what do you notice- fear, rage, numbness, or nothing at all? What do those feelings physically feel like in your body?
The practice of compassion is not an easy suggestion to #getoutsideyourcomfortzone. Turning towards compassion is challenging. It’s invitation to practice experiencing distress and moving towards it with ease. Listen to your body and be open and willing to move as slowly as you need to.
It’s been a while since I’ve connected. To catch you up, 2020 has been the start of an intentional journey of self-discovery via meditation. If the image that comes to mind is of me sitting quietly, that’s a good start, but that’s a fraction of what this experience has been thus far. At this point, I’m relearning how to 1) slow down 2) breathe 3) connect with my body 4) and greet everything (and I mean everything) with no attachment to a certain outcome. As things come to the surface of my awareness, I slow down and repeat the steps. I may have to keep repeating this process over and over, slowing down even more than before. It’s a humbling practice.
I’m incredibly grateful to my support system and my teachers for their generosity towards me on this journey. Their wisdom, guidance, and tenderness helps me when I’m feeling lost, uncertain and at this point, frustrated. I notice that I move through life pretty fast (ouch) and I have some high expectations (oops).
To the student and teacher in us all- may we move slowly through this journey, slow like honey.
How do you know you need to end things with your therapist? Is therapy ever done?
The conversation about how therapy ends starts in the first session. The question usually sounds like “What will things look like for you when you choose to end therapy? What will be different for you at that point? Questions like this can give a person a goal to work towards and a sense of structure. The response to those questions is also helpful for the therapist to check-in about and monitor progress in therapy.
If there is an urge to end therapy in sudden manner, I would recommend having a session with the therapist to talk about it rather than ending services over the phone, email or text. Naming those thoughts, feelings, and concerns can help process what’s happening internally for the individual and relationally with the therapist. However, whatever the reason is that starts the idea that it is time to end therapy, just know that it’s always your choice. Also know that you can return to therapy as needed. It is a resource, not the resource, for your mental health.
“Today, I will try to look kindly at my body and to treat it with love and respect.”
This is one part of the Live Well Pledge in Health at Every Size by Lindo Bacon, PhD.
This pose, Ustrasana (camel pose), brings up a lot of feelings and sensations for me. It’s uncomfortable, my breathing changes because of the shape I get into, and it’s also space of deep growth. Sometimes it makes me dizzy and nauseous but I only go as far as my body says to go, mindful to be aware of the discomfort but not to the point where I’m ignoring physical and mental limits.
I value the relationship I’ve built over the years with my body. I listen to it as best as I can, slowly building trust over time. Maybe I needed this reminder today- to listen to and to trust my body’s wisdom.
What’s one way that you can love on your body, be kind to your body, and/or treat it with respect today?
“The upside of falling down.”
This was the subject line of an email I received this week about the developmental tasks of 7 year olds. It’s all about making choices, learning from mistakes, and self-achieving success for that age range. I work with adults but often times we all need some “growing up” again. As an adult, with more internal and external resources and a full grown prefrontal cortex, I like the idea that I can help, support, and love on a younger version of me.
This is what a conversation between adult me and child me would sound like:
7 year old me- Makes a face, a hissing sound, and says “no” while still slightly curious.
Adult me, “Yes boo- take risks, make choices, and learn from your mistakes. You can figure things out and I love growing with you. Let’s do this!”
The process of failure and success bring big benefits to both versions of you- the adult and the child. Benefits include increasing connection with oneself, trusting intuition, learning new skills, and more healthy risk-taking behavior. Yes please!