Clearing Space
He opens the computer. He knows it will lead to waste of energy. He feels a pull to write in this app or that app or that other app—some app that has a feeling of "this is home," of just the right fit, a quality and long-lasting tool that will always be there for him. He feels a swell of fear at the thought of older adults who may be ready to "jump ship" and leave him, or who are judging him for being irresponsible or lazy or naive. He feels alone. Back to the worry about apps. He wants to disappear. Everything slows down. He feels a wave of longing for a speaking, literary, and/or booking agent who can actually get him results. He feels ashamed and naive. Alone again. Poor. A deeper breath comes automatically. He wonders again about better tools. He remembers the long list of tasks that need to be done. He feels constricted again. More shame.
I wrote this 10 minutes ago and I feel so much lighter and freer than I did when I wrote it. This is such a different path than I'm used to taking, and I wanted to share it with you because I believe I'm stumbling on something that may help you as well.
My normal path would have been to live out that person's reality. I opened my computer. I could feel what I was about to do, but instead I opened a text editor and started essentially narrating what I was experiencing.
By narrating what I was experiencing, I moved from being the character to being outside of the story. By making that shift, my nervous system responded accordingly. I was no longer the panicked person, I was watching a person who felt panic. I watched the panic come, and I watched it go. And then come. And then go.
Just two minutes to narrate. No solutions or conclusions. Then I read it back to myself. Three minutes later, I felt like a different person.
That's because I AM a different person. I'm not the person in the story I tell myself. I'm the person telling the story. That's true for all of us. And that realization gives us tremendous power and agency.
I write this knowing how close I am to diving off the edge of impractical self-help advice, so in order to stay grounded, I'll just make this small suggestion—not as a way to change our mindset or our thoughts, but as a way to help regulate our nervous system:
When you feel yourself about to go down a road you've been down before and have found to be unhelpful in the past—worry, rumination, doom scrolling, over-eating, avoidance, self-shame... before you go there, grab a pen or open a blank document and narrate your experience for two minutes. Then read it back.
Nothing else. Don't try to make sense or evaluate.
I believe that sometimes all we need is for certain parts of ourselves to be seen and heard. If these are particularly uncomfortable parts for any reason, instead of seeing or hearing them we do the opposite—we ignore and avoid.
Imagine that the part of yourself in these moments is a child. How would it feel to be avoided or ignored each time you have a problem? If you were this child, what would you do as a result?
Narrating is probably one of many ways to clear some space for a part of ourselves that needs attention and may be sick of being ignored, avoided, or even shamed and locked away in a closet... I do that to certain parts of myself often, if I'm honest.
And if I'm honest, that reaction to these certain parts of myself is based in fear. What if I actually do feel that way? What if I actually am this person who is afraid and insecure? Pathetic!
Clearing space is the opposite of a fearful response—it's compassionate.
When we are spiraling out of control on the inside, the thing we need most—to receive, and to give—is compassion.
Today I cleared a space. It took two minutes. I didn't have to have any special skills. It was easy. I just described each thing I was experiencing as it came up. Then I read it back.
And in the process, my nervous system received an important reminder. These feelings are not you. But they are real. They're in you. But the real you is much bigger than any feeling you could have. The real you is big enough to hold all of the thoughts, feelings, doubts, longings, victories and failures that come.
You aren't your feelings—you're the space where they happen. And you can choose what kind of space that is. It can be constrictive, judgmental, and controlling. Or it can be open, compassionate, and free.