Blog on Transformative Life Coaching

Nurturing the Inner Child

When we experience a rupture in our lives — a dark night of the soul — we may feel that there is nowhere to turn, that our options are limited. Our foot, metaphorically speaking, has been caught in a trap.

We experience our fear on a somatic level because it is asking to be witnessed and known so that it may be transformed. We are beginning again and being re-birthed. We may not know how to be with the intensity of feeling or how to reach out for help.

This is the moment of profound surrender, when we must be willing to ask — on our knees if necessary — to be guided by the universe and our loved ones: present, past and future. We anchor ourselves while also letting the necessary energy flow in and flow out. We seek balance as opposed to extremes.

Nurturing the inner child (or baby) begins with gentle care and listening. We allow her to tell us what is needed so that we can gather the appropriate resources. We let her know that she is loved and cherished and protected.

We reassure her that the world is a safe and welcoming place where she may play, explore, and know joy.

Relying On Others

Traumatic experiences teach us how to be vulnerable and rely on others. For many of us this is not an easy lesson. Why did we let ourselves lose touch with the very real need to lean on another? Why did we believe we had to do it all alone? This is no longer true and our adult self can make choices to protect and re-parent the child. Relying on others teaches us that we are part of a larger community and world, and that sharing our truth is radically healing. It is how we learn we are safe and that others will not abandon us. Rather, they will appreciate the opportunity to share their heart in service.

Inquiry Over Advice

When someone shares important news with us, we may want to give feedback or advice. Unless the other person explicitly asks for this, sharing what we think they should do is unhelpful. It does not honor their process. Rather, it corners them and causes them to feel that their own truths are less than valid. When we get curious and use our intuition we engage in a completely different dialogue with someone, one that honors their humanity and their wisdom.

Sisterhood

Even though I loved women, I had always been afraid of them. The women who raised me (and the women who raised them) were intensely fierce. I felt overwhelmed by them. I had an aversion to their stoicism but was also fascinated by it. Naturally, I wanted to be like them.

As I got older I not only wanted to spend time with women, I also needed to hear their stories. I was in awe of their beauty, wise knowing, and generosity.

Then someone spoke to me of sisterhood and I heard it differently, as if for the first time. I became aware that I’d been confused about how to relate to other women. Perhaps I had felt invisible. I think many women feel this way.

There were distinct moments when I remembered who I was and it was often during interactions with women. But I didn’t know how to make sense of this until I could let go of my own fear of being seen, of claiming my own feminine wisdom.

Calm Mind

We can read books and listen to talks about how to maintain a calm mind, but these are only concepts. These teachings must be applied and explored. Important to note is that not all philosophies will resonate with us and we need not force solutions.

Spiritual teachings are transcribed and taught by humans. If we hear something and it doesn’t feel right to us then we trust our intuition. While this method may have worked for someone else, even many people, it doesn’t mean it will work for us. This doesn’t make us (or it) wrong. It simply means that at this point in time this is not the right approach for our level of consciousness.

Many people get injured when they follow an esteemed teacher. He or she may claim to know things and so we put them on a spiritual pedestal. We project onto them our wish to be saved, held, loved. It is a kind of transference that may seem justified because of their role in the community. But we give our power away when we engage in these relationships without verbalizing our intentions (or they theirs).

Calm mind is our natural state. If we are chasing the promise of it via the words or actions of another we must be cautious for our own sake. We must “err on the side of self,” as a wise woman once said. Not because we are selfish or self-centered but because we deserve to know and honor our own value. Because calm mind is our birthright. If we believe this is so then there is no need to request it of another. It is here, in this moment, for the taking.

The Clouds and I Are One

Sometimes lines come to you. Or images. Or whole songs. Go with it. It’s an indication that the gods are speaking to you, directly to your heart, your somatic self. It’s a nudge in a particular direction. Something wants to be known, held, examined, felt.

When we get these whispers in the ear, it is a good idea to let ourselves be led. Even and especially if we have no idea where it’s heading. Just because. These are (perhaps rare) opportunities for connection with the divine and with one’s own soul. It’s a small pause in the midst of the chaos and it deserves our attention.

Others can get us there. Their kiss, their gaze. But when it happens in a bathroom stall or some other random and solitary place, the inspiration is coming from afar. And it’s also coming from right here inside of us. The out there and the in here are one, made of the same substance and inseparable. Hearing the whisper means there is an invitation to listen in, to surrender. To go with the soft gesture that is grace.

And the fear? It will be there, waiting at the doorstep, teasing us back to no and limited self. That is alright, but it is helpful to remember that we are made of some magic, not only bones and muscle and despair.

The People Who Love You

Name three people who love you. Take that in. Let it fill you with gratitude.

We often forget that we are not alone, that we walk this path with others. We also may have known them during past lifetimes. If we believe that everything has a purpose then even the grocer, the train conductor, the toll attendant we are meeting deserve our kindness.

There are those we recognize and those we ignore on a daily basis. The latter is what makes us feel isolated and disconnected from others and from our own spiritual nature.

We can remedy this by slowing down, by acknowledging those who help us even if simply by offering us their service. It affirms our interconnectedness with all of humanity — that each of us experiences loss and grief, and is also capable of empathy, love, understanding.

The people who love you won’t always do it perfectly. Neither will you. Sometimes it is a stranger who teaches you how to open your heart in a new way, who will bring you back to belonging and remind you of your perfect essence.

The Bookshelf

When I moved into my apartment two years ago, I had very little furniture. I liked the minimalist approach and proudly lived this way for some time. Friends would come over and awkwardly comment that they had nowhere to sit. Sitting is overrated, I thought, and I did have a kitchen table despite the absence of a couch. I spent the first several months living in less than half of my apartment and occupying the rest just felt like a slow, gradual process.

Eventually I bought a bookshelf because while I was okay not having many places to sit, I felt my books should have a home and that they should be liberated from their cardboard boxes. Getting the shelf was a bit of an ordeal: it was ordered online sight unseen; a neighbor had to receive it; another neighbor helped bring it up the stairs; it was not an appropriate bookshelf but, rather, an industrial piece of equipment that would pass as one. Fine. At least it was a start.

I managed to get the books our of their tattered boxes and up onto the shelf rather quickly. Rather than lining them up properly, though, I simply stacked them in piles. For several months the books sat there, their spines and titles hidden, and every time I needed one, I had to unstack and stack again. It didn’t make any sense. I knew there was something I must be avoiding, that this was my own peculiar form of procrastination — passive aggressive, self-negating.

Then I read an essay on procrastination and it woke something up in me. Now, I was ready for the shift to occur. In fact, it was long overdue. There were other things going on in my life that were spurring me to action, a level of unhappiness that surpassed what I had felt previously. I believe we find things when we’re meant to and this article came when I most needed it. There was a line in it about procrastination giving others the power to control us. The bookshelf suddenly became a symbol of my own consent to giving my power away.

The Lover’s Embrace

When we feel invisible in relationship it affects our self-esteem. We may know intellectually that we are worthy of a loving partnership (job, etc.) but we can’t seem to initiate change. Inertia has set in and is holding us back from truly feeling the joy we know is possible. Because we fear that we will be seen as wrong for leaving, we stay. We hope for change and improvements that never come and cling to unfulfilled promises — the possibility of commitment, marriage, a raise, a promotion.

We sometimes have to hit our personal bottom before we will find the courage to end it, say goodbye, move on. Others of us, less risk-averse, will have the courage and flee before circumstances worsen. We will know our boundaries and trust what our intuition is telling us. And though we feel fear, we dare to do take the leap anyway.

The lover’s embrace, metaphorically speaking, is our way through. It is the assurance that we get — from a partner, therapist, friend, coach — when we say we just can’t do it. It is the push, the prod, the poke. This person sees us and affirms what we are capable of and reminds us when we cannot yet know it for ourselves. It’s as if they have a direct line of communication with our future self. They are holding for us the flag we will need when we get there.

To reach this embrace we must allow the other to enter, to hold and support us. If we don’t give them permission we will continue manifesting situations in which we do it all by ourselves. Letting the lover in requires vulnerability but it also gives us the opportunity to reciprocate when necessary. To be the light, the welcoming beacon, bearer of hope. The lover teaches us all this and, because they see us when we cannot, makes us once again visible to ourselves.

Releasing, Receiving

We can always find something where there is nothing. Creating a story out of fantasy points to our own insecurities and unmet needs.

Relationships are presented to us so that we can work on our character defects. If we are a people-pleaser we will keep meeting pushy people so that we can work on cultivating the ability to say no.

When we find ourselves scripting a narrative we must wonder whether the noise in our mind is creative positive or negative feelings.

If we find that the effect is negative then we are simply holding on to an old habit. The reasons may be valid — perhaps we didn’t feel the love we needed to as a child to feel strong and deserving now –but we release the past with gentleness in order to make room for the good now.

Letting go of old tapes clears our mind and heart of worry. It makes us available to receive, for life to flow through us. We become less attached and more available to healing connections. The changes that need to occur, do, and over time resistance fades. We become ready. Willing.