If I lean deep into the blood red curves and crevices that mold and hold my heart, I can see them, the winding spiral of stories strung like garland and sewn together with ache and love. It’s all there, layers upon layers of divots and dents, bursts and blooms, composted and collaged together laying fertile for the next planted seedling.
We often get asked, “What’s inside a Pockitudes journal?” and sometimes photographs don’t do it justice. Below, you’ll find all of the text that is featured inside all of our journals. Let’s being…
Living through the pandemic the past two years has been a rollercoaster of emotions for just about everyone. There’s no doubt that some people have taken the brunt of the burden, like front-line and essential workers. But almost everyone you talk to has experienced or is experiencing anxiety, feelings of overwhelm and being burned out.
As we unfold, as we allow and try to heal, as we look at what no longer serves us well, what matters most is how we process and mindfully move through anything that comes our way. To come back to a place of equanimity so we can make choices and decisions that feel grounded, authentic, and conscious, this is how we can do the best we can.
As our world continues to shift and the stressors of these shifts bombard our senses, methods to pay attention and take care of ourselves emotionally, mentally and physically are needed now more than ever. Below are five, simple and immediate ways to bring awareness, calm and shift our patterns when triggered by stressful and anxiety-provoking situations.
Our bodies talk to us all the time. Are we listening? Are we paying attention? As embodiment practices become more popular, many of us are finding greater attunement to our bodies, not just in a physical way, but a mental, emotional and spiritual way.
I feel its presence every day, some days stronger than others. It sits with me like an old friend who doesn’t need conversation, or to fill the space with meaningless chatter. Its presence gently reminds me to remember compassion for myself and others, to never forget grace and gratitude, and to make space for embodied attention.
It does happen, failure to feel grateful, I mean. There are times when our pain or anxiety is so strong, it’s easier to surrender into the downward spiral than reach out and grab hold to stay afloat. Many of us have been in the darkness before, and the familiarity can be a comfort, despite all the pain it invokes.
In my mind, no other emotion exposes my hidden truth more than anger. Anger, in all its fury, is powerful enough to turn us into something we are not, clandestine enough to hide and fester in our subconscious, and intense enough to bring explosive and destructive consequences, causing more shame, regret, pain, and grief.
Photo by Oliver Pacas on Unsplash
It’s the fur-lined hollow I look for, the soft space between panic and sleep that rocks me gently back to deeper waves of stillness. After all these years, you’d think we’d have this down pat by now. Those moments of sheer bliss, where fear and anxiety don’t exist had me fooled into thinking I’d never see them again, until I do. The stories that say we can rid ourselves of fear, anxiety, ego and doubt forever if we just do this or that, take this or that, become this or that, read this or that, heal this or that…are they true? Maybe for some. Maybe for some for a time. Maybe for others not even close. We are so different, and so many of us have experienced pain in ways that seem un-healable. So we search and search for something that makes it all better, something to help us heal. Perhaps it’s not a thing we have to become to heal. Perhaps what needs to change is perspective, and redefine what healing means.
Death and being with the dying has taught me this. Healing doesn’t always mean fixing. Healing does not always mean all better. Healing means a sanctuary of wholeness within the confines of our human and mortal body, within the confines of all the challenges that have changed us permanently. Healing means knowing how to come back to ourselves, to the essence of who we really are as a soul having a human experience. To come back to the things that authentically love and nurture us, even when we are still broken, even when fear and sadness tells you to run and hide.
It takes courage to do this. It takes resilience and vulnerability. It takes changing the definition of what “okay” looks like. It takes seeking joy and the pleasures of laughter and community, especially when it’s hard to look at yourself in the mirror. Maybe a phone call. Maybe a short visit by a friend. Maybe a terrible movie that gets you out of the house to feel the fresh air again. In this time, when pain and suffering are so readily available, when ego is so ready to pounce and take over our hearts and minds by never feeling enough, we fight back and say “NO” by leaning in to that soft place. That beautiful fur-lined space where we feel totally, utterly and lovingly held by grace and goodness, so that we may, once again, know ourselves.
Learn more about how to start your own gratitude practice in our guide.
Surrendering is my everyday practice. Surrendering ego, surrendering expectation, surrendering into a moment which might be wrought with the angst of unknowing, of not knowing. Surrender that I might have said the wrong things to my kids. Surrender that I ate too much sugar. Surrender that I miss loved ones so much it hurts.
