I’m reflecting on probably the most calming thing I heard last year.
My Grad School and I committed to a Six Month Challenge in August.
We each chose a goal and outcome and we’re working towards it by studying our minds and learning how to use them to create what we want.
It’s enormously enlightening and often fun and sometimes hard.
We’ve spent a lot of time examining why we slide sometimes.
You know how it is.
You’re in tune, connected, staying present, eating according to your body’s desires,
feeling on top of the world,
And bam, you suddenly notice you’ve slidden into your personal hole.
Eating mindlessly, wearing sweats all day, pretending you haven’t noticed.
And, worst of all, you’re engulfed in shame –
You’ve been doing this work for a long time,
You tell yourself you should know better,
Especially when you’re a coach,
As many of my clients are.
Brene Brown discovered that shame dies when it is spoken AND met with compassion.
This means that you need to tell someone who has earned the right to hear your story.
My Six Month Challenge class decided that our secret forum would be our safe place to tell when we’re sliding.
A few weeks ago, someone posted
S
L
I
D
I
N
G.
And the response, from another Grad, simply,
“I’m here”.
Even though I wasn’t the one sliding at the time,
I read this,
And felt immediate calm.
My whole nervous system went “aaaaaahhh”.
Exhale. Relief. Thank you.
So often, we worry we won’t know what to say when someone is sliding.
Or to ourselves, when we’re sliding.
And, no matter what’s happening, all we ever need is to know that we are seen, heard and met with compassion.
And all it takes is “I’m here”.
No matter what you’ve done.
No matter what you’ve said.
No matter.
Whatever.
I’m here.
Brene Brown believes that we need to hear this from someone else.
I’m curious about whether we can do it for ourselves.
I want that to be the case.
No matter what. I’m here. For me.
I find, that when I notice that I’ve left myself, and I’m sliding,
My tendency is to pretend I don’t see.
It’s as if I can see myself in the periphery of my vision.
And I pretend I don’t.
When I notice this,
I consciously turn my body around,
so now I’m looking directly at the ‘me’ that I’m ignoring.
And sometimes that’s all it takes.
That immediate calming of the nervous system.
The relief.
Seen.
Without judgment.
I’m here.
This year, be here.
For you.
And for your people.
No matter what.
And for you first. And always.