Lately, there’s been a lot of media attention around the rising popularity of self-help and the staggering statistics that despite having more information available, we’re more and more depressed, anxious and unhappy.
Here’s my take on the situation: Books are a beautiful way to raise awareness. They can be a beautiful mirror to show us parts of ourselves that we’ve misunderstood or misjudged or that are hurting. And that, in itself is HUGELY fucking liberating.
And gaining greater and greater insight into other wellness journeys can open space within us that can act as a beautiful balm of possibility.
AND what I know about deep wounds is that they are almost always coupled with isolation. They cut us out of communication and community. They put us into competition and coercion. And what’s worse, is that your “lack of progress” is about you not showing up, not making the right choices, not not not not.
It reinforces the shit-talk you’re trying to create space from.
And what I also know about healing is that the miracle must match the BIGNESS of the wound. And if isolation is at the core, regenerative community is the cure.
A book, while potent in content is void of community. And this big stuff, she’s calling out for TOGETHERNESS.
While potent in information, a book stays static and lacks nuance. This big stuff is calling for iterative movement, flexible titration, personalized processes.
Our greatest tool for healing is community co-regulation. In the presence of at least one other person, or in the presence of a group that can see you, can feel you, can hold you.
Does this resonate? Let me know in the comments below.
If this feels really right in your body, if you’re looking for community tending and care, I’m here. If you know all the things + it’s still not moving, invite the miracle of togetherness in.
Perfectionism is a trauma response to feeling shamed around your whole self-expression. Maybe it wasn’t a big thing- maybe you were simply told by someone once that your drawing sucked. Or your voice was off-pitch. Or you ran funny.
Or maybe you learned to behave or emote a certain way because that was what fit in with your family, or because that way got you praise and compliments and love.
However it happened, you learned to hide some of your self to feel good. You learned what expressions earned you more love, and which did not. And you developed a pretty sophisticated way of being that required no colouring outside the lines.
And so we become perfectionists. And these perfectionists tend to look one of two ways in my experience.
The ones who overwork, anxiously attempting to reach final perfection- all their skin is in the game, chasing some imaginary unicorn that will safely enshrine themselves in the world as good, however, the rubric defines it. They might release the thing they’ve been working on, only to be crushed when it (they) isn’t received exactly how they imagined it would be. Defeat. Try try again, this time with more vigour + higher stakes. Repeat.
And then there’s the other side of perfectionism. The side that tried really hard for a long time and now has completely pulled themselves out of the game. The ones that, given a whiff of potential failure, they run away never attempting anything difficult again.
It’s okay to want to be good, but not if it steals your essence.
We CAN change our relationship to experience our true essential perfection, without the punishing rubric. We can fail and flail and thrive, knowing we intimately belong and are worthy of love.
We can learn to be in our truth, how to use our hearts and our tongues to express ourselves as an act of love and healing. We can feel free in ourselves.
If that sparks something within you, let’s chat. Find a link to book a call in my bio.