There are moments in life that hit you like a tonne of bricks. You can be pottering along with everything seemingly fine until suddenly, out of nowhere you get a WhatsApp that makes your stomach flip and everything go a little blurry and tunnel vision like and suddenly it feels like nothing is fine anymore.
I had a moment like that a week or so ago - and before you worry, you lovely human, it was nothing major, no bereavement or anything seismically life changing, but it was.... nonetheless, incredibly painful.
I've learnt, over the years of looking inward, investing in myself and doing a lot of deep emotional work, that these painful moments in time, if worked with, can actually be the opportunity for the most magical growth, the most magical evolution, the most magical becoming... but so often we miss the opportunity for fear of the feelings the situation comes with.
It's not surprising really, that we run. Trained for so many years in the avoidance of uncomfortable feelings, it's only natural that we'd run for miles at the first sign of pain, of emotional discomfort. Avoid. Numb. Hide.
It's not surprising that, instead of diving into the feelings, we run a million miles from them, hiding in busyness, in people, in food, in exercise in all of the ways we have healthily (or not so healthily) learnt to cope with the pain of being a human.
But what if these moments in time, these moments of heart pinching ouch, were actually a little nudge from the universe to show you something. To nudge you in some way. To show you a deeper piece of the puzzle which, despite the pain, would actually serve you in the big picture of your life?
It's a huge shift to make, a seismic leap in fact.. to start to see these moments of pain as opportunity. But it's a shift which has completely shifted the trajectory of my life. A shift that has moved me out of a space of victimhood (in the metaphorical victim sense vs. the actual true victim sense) and into a space of self ownership and self leadership.
In my experience of managing these heart pinching moments of ick, I have come to realise that there will ALWAYS be a lesson behind the pinch.
And I don't mean a lesson like - so and so is a dick I don't like them anymore, or a lesson like - I must never trust people again.
I mean a lesson of self leadership. A lesson like - perhaps I should treat myself more like someone I love, or it is safe for me to take space in relationships whilst I am processing how I feel, or it is ok for me to admit that something has hurt me.
These lessons nudge us into heart opening, rather than closing down. They nudge us into a deeper space of centre, into a deeper sense of self and of compassion rather than shutting ourselves off from life around us.
And how do we come to the lessons?
By feeling.
And really feeling.
By giving ourselves the full permission to feel exactly as we are, without judgement. By finding safe spaces where we can feel it all, without the need to project it all onto anyone else involved, but purely in the form of moving through the energy of the emotion.
For me, I'll be honest with you, this looked like almost a full day of giving myself permission to cry, to scream, into pillows, to punch pillows. It looked like committing to a daily practice of emotional work whilst I was moving through the pinch.
In giving myself this space, what I've come to see is that, once the waves of emotion settle, once the tides settle and the energy has moved fully through me, there is a peace that appears.
And from that peace, the answers come. The lessons. The next steps. The inner truth.
Any decision made from a space of intense emotionality is a decision made from our history, and not from our present.
It's only in allowing the waves of emotionality to be fully felt, fully witnessed, fully met, that we can come back into the present to glean the lessons and find the next steps.
Lucy x
You have probably tried to think your way out of it.
Whatever it is for you, the anxiety that arrives on Sunday evenings like an uninvited guest, the relationship pattern you can trace all the way back to childhood but somehow keep repeating anyway or the low hum of something missing that no promotion, no holiday, no amount of self-improvement has ever quite reached.
You are smart, you are self-aware and you have probably read the books, done the therapy, listened to the podcasts - you understand your patterns, you can explain them to someone else over a glass of wine with impressive clarity.
And yet, nothing has actually shifted.
You are doing so well.
Genuinely. By every external measure, your life is a success, the career, the flat, the social life, the holidays. The ability to hold a room, meet a deadline, handle a crisis with the particular calm that comes from having handled many crises before.
From the outside, you are completely fine.
From the inside, there is a question you keep almost asking and then putting back in the drawer.
Is this it?
Everything felt infused with irritation. I was doing all the things for everyone else that I thought I should be doing. I was doing all the acts of service. I was, technically, loving those people. And yet. It felt like every act I did, rather than being infused with love, was infused with a shards of glass shooting out of every plate I stacked.
It was a Thursday back in February 2018. The rain hadn’t stopped for months and London was right in the depths of what felt like the longest winter we’d ever had. The dark, damp days had started to getting to me so I’d taken refuge in a hot yoga class to warm up. The scent of palo santo blended with the sweat of 50 people pervaded the room. It was bonus day at work. They’d told us it had been a bad year and not to expect much. I peaked into the envelope, hopeful, as soon as they slid it across the table: £130k. But there I lay, in savasana, with hot, salty tears streaming down my face: I’d never felt emptier.