Eline Potoski LCSW

02/25/2026

It’s ok to be human. We all are.

Friends, I saw behind the curtain.

For about 15 years I spent time behind the scenes with spiritual teachers and gurus, some very famous, some with very large followings. I shared meals with them, travelled with them, sat in their homes long after the audience had gone and the applause had faded. I saw them when they no longer needed to be “on”.

There are names I will not name and details I will not share, out of basic human decency. But I will say this.

Every single one of them disappointed me.

Every single one.

And I say that now with love, and with deep relief.

Let me explain.

I saw them get triggered and defensive. I heard them complain about participants and organisers. I saw anger, rage, and at times abuse, directed at staff and partners, petty arguments over money and status, jealousy, lying, extra marital affairs, unprocessed trauma. I saw the strain of trying to uphold an image, of having to be “the awakened one” in every room they entered. I saw the exhaustion and resentment that simmered underneath.

I spoke with their spouses, their children, their parents, who confirmed the gap between their public image and private reality. I came to know the flawed human beings behind the masks.

And then I watched them walk onto a stage and speak beautifully about compassion and unconditional love and unity and consciousness and going beyond being triggered and “the ending of all suffering” and stuff like that.

I saw many of them misrepresent their lives on stage. Even lie about things I had just witnessed with my own eyes.

At first it hurt. I had projected wisdom onto them. I had wanted them to be more integrated, somehow above the human mess the rest of us live in. It felt like disillusionment, even betrayal.

But that disillusionment slowly turned into relief, as they all fell off the pedestals I had placed them on. Thank goodness.

Spiritual teachers are human, as we all are. Flawed, reactive, tender, sometimes generous, sometimes petty. Sometimes at peace, sometimes angry, triggered, frustrated. Sometimes compassionate, sometimes not.

Seeing that gave me permission to stop trying to live up to an image myself. I no longer felt the need to hide my imperfections or doubts in order to look “spiritual”. I could be more honest, more embodied, more real.

Over time I noticed that the teachers who denied and hid and repressed their humanity often caused the most harm. What gets split off does not disappear. It goes underground and finds other ways to express itself, sometimes destructively, in its longing to be seen and loved.

The very few spiritual teachers I could truly trust were the ones who could admit, without drama, “I get triggered.” “I feel jealous.” “I need help.” “I doubt and forget my own teaching sometimes.” There was humility there. They could own their vulnerabilities. No pedestal, just a human being with a sensitive nervous system, a history, and an open heart.

The real gift of being disappointed was this: I stopped searching for perfect teachers, and I stopped trying to be perfect myself. It made me kinder. More open. More forgiving.

And more aware of how easily we worship an image and miss the flawed human being inside. We do it to each other, and it is not kind on any level.

I am so grateful for my experience of seeing behind the curtain. I think it helped me heal.

And if any of this unsettles or disappoints or upsets you, it may be worth asking what image just cracked, and whether that cracking is actually an opening into something more human, and much more honest.

What I found behind the curtain was not enlightenment, but more humanity.

- Jeff Foster

02/25/2026

Do not reject a sense of rejection,
or abandon a feeling of abandonment.

Do not resist your resistance,
or run away from the urge to run away.

Do not make sadness sad by leaving it,
or enrage anger by disconnecting,
or make loneliness more lonely
by pushing it away.

Hold the broken heart
with as much love as the happy heart,
never lose the sense of being lost,
and do not doubt the presence of doubt.

Do not fear fear,
or desire the absence of desire,
or worry about worry.
(And if you do, don't worry).

All parts of you are sacred,
the light and the dark alike;
all are worthy,
deserving of unconditional love.

- Jeff Foster

01/27/2026

CRAZYWISE Conversations: Gabor Maté – Authenticity vs. AttachmentGabor Maté, M.D. takes a special interest in early childhood trauma and the potential lifelo...

01/09/2026

In my previous clip, so many of you left thoughtful comments and important insights. A lot of you named something people rarely have language for: the pain isn’t only what the abusive parent did, it’s also what the other parent didn’t do.

So I want to stay with this question: Why did I stay loyal to the parent who didn’t protect me?

For a child, attachment isn’t a preference. It’s a survival system. Your nervous system is wired to keep caregivers close, because closeness is how kids get food, shelter, comfort, and regulation. When the relationship is unsafe or unreliable, the system often chooses connection anyway, because disconnection can be even more threatening.

That’s why loyalty can show up in confusing ways. Sometimes loyalty looks like:
* minimizing what happened
* staying emotionally responsible for them
* feeling guilty for being angry
* blaming yourself because it feels more controllable than admitting the adult failed you

One of the most common strategies kids use is turning the problem inward. “If I’m easier, quieter, more helpful, they’ll finally protect me.”

And it can become the adult pattern of over-functioning, people-pleasing, staying in one-sided relationships, or feeling pulled to take care of people who don’t take care of you.

It’s also important to name this: the parent who didn’t protect you may have loved you. They may have been scared, dependent, dissociated, or trapped in their own trauma.

And the impact can still be real. As a child, your system learned that you could be loved and still not be protected.

When people start seeing this dynamic clearly, they often stop asking, “What’s wrong with me?” and start asking:

* What did my loyalty help me survive?
* What did I have to believe about myself to stay connected?
* Where do I still feel responsible for other people’s emotions?

That’s where deeper work begins, because trauma isn’t only what happened. It’s what your nervous system had to organize around in order to keep attachment.

If this question hits home, you’re not alone. And you don’t have to rush to forgive or understand it quickly. Start by telling the truth about what the child in you was navigating.

01/04/2026

12/25/2025

Belonging feels good. It feels safe. It feels right.

So when Rami Kaminski and Neil Hellegers wrote The Gift of Not Belonging, it sounded almost counterintuitive, like saying “loneliness is a strength.” But as I read, I realized that’s exactly what they mean: being an outsider doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re positioned differently. And that difference, when understood can become a gift, not a deficit.

This book doesn’t preach gratitude for suffering, and it doesn’t romanticize isolation. It examines the psychological, emotional, and social dimensions of not fitting in and then flips the script. Rather than treating belonging as a universal goal, it shows how not belonging can cultivate resilience, innovation, autonomy, and depth of self that many “joiners” never experience.

The tone is compassionate, clear, and rooted in both research and lived experience. This isn’t a self-help book that tells you to force yourself into the world. It’s a book that helps you understand where you actually sit in it and how that position can be a source of power.

Lessons That Stay With You:

1. Not fitting in isn’t a flaw, it’s a perspective
Kaminski and Hellegers insist that outsiders see patterns joiners miss. When you’re not absorbed in social norms, you observe them. Visibility isn’t the same as insight. This book reframes being different from being deficient.

2. Belonging is not the only way to connect
Humans are social creatures — but connection doesn’t require conformity. The authors show that deep, meaningful connection can exist beyond groups, in intentional relationships that don’t demand you erase yourself.

3. Outsiders often innovate because they aren’t bound by consensus
When you’re not locked into groupthink or social expectations, you think freely. Creativity doesn’t come from comfort zones, it comes from cognitive distance. This book celebrates the outsider’s natural advantage in divergent thinking.

4. The pain of not belonging can teach emotional resilience
This isn’t sugarcoating loneliness. The book acknowledges the hurt, the awkwardness, the longing, and then helps you understand how that pain strengthens your inner life, your empathy, and your self-reliance.

5. Identity grows in the space between belonging and isolation
Rather than pushing you to seek validation from groups, the book invites you to build identity from internal coherence: values, intentions, and personal truths, not social approval.

6. Outsiders don’t need to reject community, they need healthier ones
The authors aren’t anti-social. They advocate for selective belonging: groups that allow honest presence, individuality, and mutual respect rather than blind assimilation.

7. Thriving outside the center requires self-awareness
The book doesn’t glamorize isolation. Instead, it emphasizes clarity about your own needs, boundaries, and rhythms. Understanding how you operate emotionally and socially becomes a superpower.

In a world obsessed with inclusion, networks, metrics of social success, and “fitting in,” this book points out a quiet truth: belonging isn’t the only way to live fully. Some of the wisest, most creative, bravest lives are lived in the margins, not because those people couldn’t belong, but because they weren’t shaped by a need to.

The Gift of Not Belonging doesn’t tell you to stop seeking connection. It tells you to stop seeking approval. It helps you see that your value (and power) doesn’t depend on membership cards, social circles, popularity, or conformity.

Belonging might make life easier.
Not belonging can make life richer.

BOOK: https://amzn.to/3MQBTVC

Enjoy the audio book with FREE trial using the link above. Use the link to register on audible and start enjoying!

12/03/2025

On neurodiversity, chronic pain and ifs

Chronic conditions through the lens of IFS, attachment & polyvagal theory

10/25/2025

DO NOT FORCE THE HEALING

Do not force the healing, my love.

Healing is always unforced.

It happens when the conditions are right.
When there is just enough love, attention, presence, slowness, trust.

When you aren't trying to heal.
When you aren't trying to awaken.
When you aren't "trying" at all.
When you open your arms wide to the Now.
Fall to the ground.
Let yourself feel the rage, the grief, the loneliness.
Let yourself break. Let yourself feel worse, if you need to feel worse.
Speak your raw truth. Upset some people. Bring others closer.

But don't force yourself, my love.
You have to let go of the result, the agenda, the goal.
And infuse your 'unhealed' experience with love.
Drench your pain, your sorrow, your longing with warm awareness.
Saturate the moment with yourself.

You have to create the conditions for healing,
but you cannot do it.

The ego will rebel at this news.
Your heart will rejoice.

Mysterious forces, ancient and unspeakable, do the healing.

You only
have to get out
of the way.

- Jeff Foster -

Photo: watercolor painting by Francene Hart, an artist known for her visionary art and sacred geometry themes.

Archaeology for the Woman's Soul

10/22/2025

The communicative power of music and calm

10/18/2025

10/17/2025