At the last practice group, there were a few people who talked about hitting a wall sometime this past week, and I was one of them. I want to share that experience with you.
The whole day long I carried this unclear but ever-present sense of anxiety. (It wasn’t because of anything in particular. My guess is that it was because of everything.) With the anxiety came restlessness and dissatisfaction. Nothing seemed interesting. I was so caught up in the discomfort it became the thing that informed everything else.
Later in the evening, I decided to flip through the photo gallery on my phone—hoping for something uplifting—and I ran across a photo of some board work I had done in one of my classes. Yes, that’s right, one of my classes: I was teaching others something that I myself had totally lost sight of all day long. Although I had already told myself I could drown my feelings by reading a book, and even though I really wanted to read the book, I thought, “You know what to do.” So I put the novel aside and got out my journal.
At first, I thought that naming my experience as “anxiety” or “trauma” was enough, but it wasn’t. I had to go deeper and I had to be more specific:
My physical sensations: tired, a pulling in—like a contraction hurting in my chest and diaphragm. Even my breath feels drained. Slightly shaky breath, (physical) suffering.
Feelings: tired, sad, lost, melancholy, annoyed, helpless, discouraged, disheartened, reactive—also flat, frustrated, distressed, “locked up,” and lonely.
Once I wrote these down I could see them and care for them, and they for their part knew they were being heard and listened to. I started to feel better.
These feelings showed me the unmet needs that were looking for me.
Needs: compassion, empathy, understanding, energy, “the bigger picture,” encouragement, confidence, connection, touch (hugs), ease, rest and restoration, choice, acceptance.
Finding my needs was SO grounding!!! For me, it was and remains the shelter in the storm, equipped with food, warmth, and a map so I could find my way back home.
Safe now, I was ready to create do-able requests that I could meet:
Breathing in compassion/kindness and breathing out letting go.
Giving myself permission to check out of everything I could check out of. I let go of as many things as I could that were not restorative or didn’t meet my needs for rest.
Noticing the things that are still working, and working well, and taking time to feel the feelings of needs met.
Slowing way down—so much that I could begin to value the simplest acts—like making coffee and being with the quiet.
More intentional hugs for my dear Michael and my pups. And I just read a great idea about hugging trees!
When I closed my journal I was amazed at how different I felt. Instead of my emotions and physical sensations running the show, I was. I felt empowered, strong, and able—just the opposite of what I had suffered through earlier. How about that?
