Tonight I cried. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am frustrated and feeling stuck in life. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am so tired that everything hurts, and it feels impossible to get everything done. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am mad and the kindest thing that can come out of me are tears. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am overwhelmed, and it feels like the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders.

“Erin, I have to tell you about an experience that I had,” he said.

“Yes, tell me, please,” I said with anticipation in my heart, knowing and feeling that this would be a large insight.

I was walking up the back stairwell when I noticed one of my cats trying to get in the back door. I paused, realizing that this was out of character for my cat. I put down the things I was carrying and opened the back door to let my cat inside. I looked around to ensure that no other animals were in the yard scaring him but saw nothing. My body felt uneasy, there was a tightness in my chest, and I recognized this tightness as my body trying to talk to me.

There is something about Thanksgiving morning that I really love. The calmness in the house before everyone arrives. The stillness inside of my body as I prepare for the day and all of the events that the day will entail. The yummy smells coming from the oven and the stovetop, washing over me as I get food ready for the day. The light as it begins to creep over the horizon and light the world after a long night of darkness.

On this particular Saturday afternoon, I found myself disassociating from what was being taught. My mind would wander, and I would find myself lost in thoughts about other things rather than following along with the training. I used some of the somatic-based tools that I had learned to create more capacity in my mind to absorb the content, only to find myself disassociating again.

As I read his post, I felt energy hitting my body. My body understood what my mind couldn’t yet grasp. A long time ago, I learned to work with this pattern inside of myself. I knew I didn’t need to chase the thought. My mind was trying to understand what my body already knew, and if I just allowed myself to tune into my body and the wisdom that it had, eventually my mind would catch up to my body. As I sat in a state of openness and felt the sensation in my body, my mind got it.

He was wise beyond his age. I was so proud of him for asking this question. He knew that without open conversation, things wouldn’t feel better, and he was holding me accountable for that. I loved that he already embodied this concept deeply, and I also loved that there was enough safety inside of our relationship that he felt comfortable offering suggestions to me.

If I am being honest, it is one of my favorite conversations to have with a client. The moment where they get really present with themselves and their desires. The moment when they question who they are and what they want out of this human experience. 

I was staring down the tunnel and feeling the intensity of the position I was in. I was looking into the darkness and feeling fear bubble up in every cell of my body. It would be easy for me to say that the fear was outside of me, but I understood that the fear was mine to own.

I was walking around the house doing chores and she was chasing after me. Every couple of seconds, she would yowl for attention. I stopped and patted her and then went back to my chores. She continued to chase me, screaming for attention. Whenever I would stop, she would tap on my legs, and I would reach down and pat her, but it didn’t seem to be enough.