Starting Where I Am
I’m not sure where to begin today. There’s a lot on my heart and mind. I worry that my words might carry the weight I’m feeling and accidentally pass it on to you. That’s never my intention. I know I’m responsible for tending to my emotional well-being, but how do I show up with both hurt and hope in hand?
I’m still figuring that out. For now, I’ll begin and end with honesty.
A Tangle of Triggers
Earlier this week, I experienced what I call a pile-up—three different emotional triggers arriving almost at once. The bright side of doing this deep inner work is that I could see it unfolding in real time. I noticed it, named it, and did my best to honor what was happening.
Still, the overwhelm came quickly. It was too much, too fast for my nervous system to manage. Even with all the tools I’ve learned, there are moments when healing feels like an avalanche. When I try to push through, it only presses harder. So I’m learning to make space for it instead.
What’s Helping Me Heal
Here’s what I’m leaning on right now:
Making my world smaller: Saying no when I need to. Being honest about my limits. Not adding anything to my calendar unless it feels easy or supportive. Simplicity feels like safety.
Being with what’s here: Sitting with the pain, gently, for as long as I can. Journaling. Meditating. Reading spiritual texts. Not to escape, but to understand.
Moving my body: Even when I resist, movement helps. John nudged me to walk on the beach the other day and though I didn’t want to go, I was so grateful afterward. I’ve been biking to meet friends, practicing Pilates, dancing. Anything that brings me out of my head and into the now.
Sharing with a compassionate witness: Someone who simply listens. No fixing. Just presence. Someone who believes in me even when I forget how to believe in myself.
Inviting joy: This past weekend, I went to an Adult Zoo Camp and I’m still riding the wave of happiness from it. Watching the Cubs, though I admit it works better when they win. Reading light-hearted books instead of my usual depth-seeking reads. A little levity goes a long way.
Reframing the hard days: This isn’t happening because I’m broken. It’s happening because I’m transforming. This stretch of struggle doesn’t mean I’m doing it wrong, it means I’m in it. Healing takes time. I’m learning to offer myself grace along the way.
A Soft Landing
If you’re navigating something heavy right now, please know you’re not alone. This is tender work, but it is also true work. We’re learning to soften, to stay, to believe healing is possible even when it doesn’t look how we imagined.
Thank you for being here, exactly as you are. I’ll keep showing up with honesty. And I hope you do, too.
