feelings

Love is Not Enough

What is love? And how do you know when you feel loved? How injured do we feel when we don’t feel loved?

I have the opportunity to sit with people who are working hard to heal. There may be parts of themselves that are conflicted or tangled, or perhaps only buried and never known. I welcome and hold space with all the parts. I stay curious and compassionate. I give room for their autonomous self and join them in the discovery.

An amazing thing happens when we are seen, heard, understood, and felt. These attachment dynamics are so powerful that they have the ability to co-regulate us, calm our nervous system, and grow our stunted emotional parts back up.

It’s been said that being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person they are almost indistinguishable (David Augsburger).

So for us to love, it requires something of us. Simply stated, but not simply done, it takes work. Love asks us to be present, to hold space, to be safe enough to allow us to be known and, often, a response. We want to know we’ve been seen or understood. We want to know that what we’ve shared with others has resonated with them or impacted them enough that there can be a response. We’ve risked in sharing something of ourselves, so what will the other person do with what we shared with them?

Love alone, as a thought or a word, is not enough. To say “You are loved” is lacking the depth that is willing to engage to do the work of that connection. It keeps up a wall that doesn’t enter in. If we love someone, are we willing to back that up with our action? Are we willing to do the work it requires — to hear, to understand, to drop our defenses (when the relational space is safe enough to do so!) and to take steps toward someone or be responsive? It might mean having some intentional conversations that bring connection, depth, and understanding.

It's About Time

Have you ever been on a long journey and you wonder when it will ever end? Kind of like 2020, that just kept unfolding more and more layers of chaos, insanity, and uncertainty. 2020 was marked in history by a global pandemic, racial concerns, and political unrest. How often this year have we collectively felt no clear answers, harsh division, and such intense conflicting views?

In our humanity, we prefer consistency, clarity, stability, and steady footing. How do we collectively walk complexity, ambiguity, uncertainty and extended, ongoing distress? As a nation and most likely the world, we are weary. It’s been a lot to carry, and it is long.

Sometimes we wish for time to be different. That we could be further ahead on our journey, finish things sooner, and be somewhere we aren’t. Move past this, get it over with, and put it behind us.

Sometimes the healing journey is long. And long is really hard when it is painful, raw, and hurting. Lots of layers to sort through, making meaning, feeling our feelings, and bearing witness. It takes as long as it takes.

Authenticity: Finding Me.

Sometimes the snow globe spins up quite a storm, and you can’t see clearly until it settles. Our emotions are that way, and even more so when we are in relationship with others who also have their emotions, histories, and experiences. Our busyness can stir us up, or a trauma response, or feeling misunderstood or conflicted — all of these cause an internal storm that needs time to settle before we can land and find our feet again.

The last couple of weeks have been like that for me. So much happening, all of which required time for my heart and mind to process, reflect, and integrate. I had been taking further steps into my healing journey, all at the same time that life stirred up new opportunities to work on the layers.

We talk about healing trauma as being able to metabolize and take in all that has happened and how we’ve experienced it. We do that best little by little, because often it is happening too fast and too much at once for our nervous system to settle and for our narrative to be able to make meaning from it.

Finding a sense of home base, letting the snow globe and emotions settle, I can step back and find what I think and feel and what it means to me.

Ready ....or not. The Paradoxes of Reality.

Perhaps one of the key foundations of mental health is the ability to be in reality. It is the truth of what we are experiencing, in its fullness and entirety. To be fair, sometimes this is too much, and we have to take it in smaller pieces.

The alternative is to avoid, deny, push away, and bury what is happening — and this does not help in the long term. For a time, or a season, it may serve a purpose to protect us to function in those ways — and then at some point it is worth the effort to step into what is more real, accurate and true.

It is okay (and needed) to be able to say this hurts. This is hard. This has lots of layers and conflicting feelings. There are parts of me that I have to acknowledge and be true to, so that I can authentically show up in the world. Things I can’t pretend or minimize the impact of what it means to me. There may be some things that are really bothering me that I need to do something about.

When You Don't Know What To Do

Sometimes it’s hard to find your way in the dark. A difficult relationship, an ongoing struggle, patterns of spiraling, the exasperation of parenting, the journey of healing trauma. Where do you most relate? Perhaps life feels really out of balance. Maybe it took being off balance for you to notice. In the noticing, we can do something about it.

Go back to what you know to be true. What are the frameworks for mental health that give you (and your relationships) a strong foundation?

Somewhere you may have felt derailed or thrown off balance. The beautiful thing is, we can always come back to center. We don’t have to stay stuck; we don’t have to keep spiraling.

Life In Balance

Nature teaches us daily rhythms: morning and night, light and darkness, seasons of budding growth and dormant hibernation. Our inhale speaks to our sympathetic nervous system to bring energy and mobilization; our exhale whispers to our parasympathetic nervous system to bring a calm that settles us. Like the tide that rolls in and out, our bellies lift with the in-breath and contract on the out-breath.

In yoga, we work both sides of the body and notice the differences in how it feels when we reach, stretch, and contract — on the left, on the right — awareness and attention to the upper body and the lower body. We awaken and check our posture, our alignment, and notice where we hold tightness and need to soften.