06/11/2025
I sat with my fear today.
She’d been fluttering in my chest on and off for the last few days. I sat on the bed, held my hand to my chest and acknowledged her presence.
“Hello fear. What do you need to tell me darling?”
She blurted out all the things she was afraid of. One after the other. I reflected it all back to her. Didn’t question it. Didn’t invalidate it. Just sat with her in it.
I felt into my body, where she was residing. In my chest. In my heart. In my throat. I coughed, I swallowed, I took deep, deep breaths. Suddenly, my scar tissue pinged around where my gall bladder used to be. I held my hand to it, lay down, stretched out my body and gave her some space. Still holding a hand to it in comfort. Perhaps that’s where she’d resided in the past. And although the organ was gone, she was not.
I asked if I could just sit with her. She softened in relief. My resistance to her had been deeply painful. I told her that I understood she was there to keep me safe. I told her what a good job she’d been doing my whole life. I thanked her. She softened further. I asked her what else she had to tell me. I repeated it all back to her – without judgement, without distraction, without interjection.
I asked her if she would like a hug. And she softened into tears in my embrace. After some time in silence, I asked if I could hold her hand. I told her we could move forward together – yes, together. I am not leaving her behind. She is deeply important to me. She is not wrong. She cares deeply for me. I need her. And we can move forward, side by side, together. It is not her or I, it is all parts of us, together.
I opened my eyes, my chest felt expansive again, my breath had deepened, my throat is clearing.
Have you made friends with your feelings?
