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.
Oof.
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.