connection

Coming Back to Home Base

Sometimes the path to connection, of coming back to yourself, is first noticing when you have needed space to breathe. We rush; we lose time; we put too much on our plate. We lose track of ourselves. Our self-care practices and rhythms get hard to maintain. And for whatever reason, it becomes clear, we know we have to step back.

Perhaps this change in season is a time for coming home.

We extend ourselves, we work hard, we give much. And then comes the need for coming back. For the long exhale, a slow and steady rhythm, a state of rest and recovery.

I hate disconnection…especially with myself. I am a nurturer. Relationships matter immensely to me. It is horribly painful when relationships are distant, broken, or unhealthy. I’ve learned, though, that the one relationship I will always have is with myself. If I’m not taking care of that, from what do I have to give?

Attachment language uses the concept of a secure home base. Knowing that you can always come home, to safety, to connection, to attunement. From that foundation, you learn that you can launch. It is the way we can become our best selves, to keep coming back.

Embracing Our Humanity

Beautiful souls. Weary, broken, longing.

High hopes for what we wish for. Adjusting expectations. Sad disappointment.

Passionate division. Lack of hearing or understanding. Fear of other. Judgment.

Scared of pain. Facing where we’ve felt unresolved. Avoiding struggle.

Limits. Boundaries. Pacing. Pausing. Balanced protection.

Seeing new perspectives. Finding hope. Bright light, laughter, joy.

Connection. Relationships. Being found, seen, known, embraced.

Triggered. Flooded. Disconnection. Injury.

Grounding, finding footing, taking steps. Movement. Forward.

A Returning Wave

Trigger warning: Suicide Awareness

I have focused these few posts on suicide awareness, knowing that many of you may have no idea what it is like to have such depths or intensity of pain. Others may relate to seasons (whether it comes in hours, days, months, or moments) of feeling beyond what you are able to endure, and overwhelmed….again.

These are the frameworks I’m attempting to put words to. If we can articulate it, we can begin to make sense of it, particularly with the presence of an empathic witness. In that, we are no longer alone — we are felt, known, understood and brought near.

There is a sense in which you can feel untethered, or beyond reach or too far gone. And sometimes it is really hard to hold on. It can come up like a returning wave, or like a familiar feeling entering the room for a visit. Understandably so, we don’t like these visitors. It can feel heavy beyond our ability to lift. But what if it was just a part of us that we could begin to see, to recognize, or to give voice to?