That’s powerful. Letting the emotions move through you instead of resisting them takes so much quiet strength. I really believe that kind of surrender—gentle, raw, honest—is a form of survival too. Thank you for sharing this.
I feel this deeply, especially now, as I sit with the discomfort of realizing that someone I once called a friend isn’t who they claimed to be. It’s not easy to face, especially since I saw glimpses of this truth years ago but chose to look away. The ache of betrayal, even quiet and unspoken, is heavy. But I know that running from it won’t honor my integrity. So, I’m choosing to pause, to feel the sting of it fully, and to let it teach me something about boundaries, about discernment, and about the kind of energy I want in my life.
That’s such a brave and honest reflection. There’s a particular kind of ache that comes from facing what we once ignored especially when it involves someone we trusted. But your choice to sit with the discomfort, to not run from the sting, speaks volumes about your strength and self-respect. Letting the pain be your teacher instead of your prison is powerful. I hope this season brings you clarity, softness, and the kind of peace that only truth can offer
Salwa, this letter landed like a whisper I didn’t know I needed to hear.
Your line—“You are not something to be fixed, you are something to be felt”—felt like someone gently setting down a mirror in front of me. That one sentence dismantled a decade of hypervigilance and performance. We so often confuse healing with striving—reaching for the next insight, the next milestone, the next “fix”—when sometimes the most radical thing we can do is sit and not run.
I felt seen in the way you described the fear of what might happen if we actually let the ache in. That fear of crumbling beyond repair is so real. But you're right—there’s strength in softness. And sitting with what hurts is not the end of us. It’s the beginning of something much more honest.
Anton, thank you for this beautiful message. You captured exactly what I hoped this letter would hold space for…that quiet shift from fixing to feeling, from bracing to allowing. That mirror image you described… I’ve felt it too. It’s humbling, isn’t it? To realise how much of our strength has been wrapped in tension. And how tender the truth feels when we finally stop running. I’m so grateful it reached you in that way. With you in the sitting and the softening
"But surviving and feeling aren’t the same thing, are they?". Oh, boy, these are not the same.
One trap for survivors is staying incredibly busy, "productive ", and so on to avoid having to feel. Survival is hard enough, trying to run from the feelings is more tiring still.
Absolutely Mike. That busyness can be such a convincing disguise for healing but really, it’s often just a way to outrun what’s waiting to be felt. I’ve done it too. Thank you for putting this so clearly…it’s a quiet exhaustion many of us carry
Thank you for this reminder—it really speaks to the quiet strength that can come from faith, especially during hard seasons. Taking the time to be honest with God, even in our confusion or struggle, is such a grounding practice
Yes you are right, sitting with uncomfortable feelings is hard work. I do it too and sometimes I feel the feeling lose its strength … when it returns I feel it from a better place. Thanks for your wonderful post ❤️
Thank you for this…it’s such a gentle and powerful truth. I’ve felt that shift too… like each time we sit with the feeling, it softens just a little. And we meet it from a steadier place. I’m glad this resonated. Sending warmth your way. ❤️
"TED Talk: We Don’t Move on From Grief, We Move Forward With It by Nora McInerny – A real and powerful perspective on sitting with loss."
This TED talk was shared with me within a few days of my daughter's death. It was the first thing that really broke through the overwhelming sense of loss.
It reassured me that I did not need to move on, which implies saying goodbye. Instead, we move forward into a space where our dearly loved is still with us, just in a different way.
Nancy, thank you for sharing this deeply personal moment. That TED Talk held me too during a difficult season, and I’m so moved it reached you when you needed it most. There’s such comfort in knowing we’re allowed to carry our loved ones with us—that grief doesn’t ask us to forget, only to find new ways to hold love. Sending you so much tenderness
I find that much of my "discomfort" comes from conflict--my avoidance of it--or my urge to fix it . Thanks for helping me realize that my job isn't always to resolve (re-solve) anything. Sometimes sitting, observing and feeling is the right thing.
That’s such a powerful insight. I relate so much…my instinct has often been to fix, smooth things over, or keep the peace. But like you said, sometimes the real work is in the sitting, feeling, and not rushing to make it all neat
Yes... this is something I am consciously working on. At a retreat at the weekend, I was experiencing a lot of physical and emotional pain. The women I was with supported me to surrender to it, to listen to it and to let it speak to me. Not an easy thing to do, but I was rewarded with a lightness that has, so far, remained with me. I wrote a poem about it... I will upload it today hopefully. Thanks for sharing this 🙏
That sounds incredibly powerful and brave. To be held in a space where you could actually let go and listen to what the pain had to say… that’s deep healing work. I’m so glad to hear it left you with a sense of lightness. I’d love to read your poem when it’s up. Thank you for sharing this, too
"There’s no timeline for healing. No checklist for grief or sadness or anger."
Yes Salwa, true words.
I gave in to my emotions, allowing it to wash over and through me. Perhaps that also saved me in a way. I didn't try to fight it.
That’s powerful. Letting the emotions move through you instead of resisting them takes so much quiet strength. I really believe that kind of surrender—gentle, raw, honest—is a form of survival too. Thank you for sharing this.
I feel this deeply, especially now, as I sit with the discomfort of realizing that someone I once called a friend isn’t who they claimed to be. It’s not easy to face, especially since I saw glimpses of this truth years ago but chose to look away. The ache of betrayal, even quiet and unspoken, is heavy. But I know that running from it won’t honor my integrity. So, I’m choosing to pause, to feel the sting of it fully, and to let it teach me something about boundaries, about discernment, and about the kind of energy I want in my life.
That’s such a brave and honest reflection. There’s a particular kind of ache that comes from facing what we once ignored especially when it involves someone we trusted. But your choice to sit with the discomfort, to not run from the sting, speaks volumes about your strength and self-respect. Letting the pain be your teacher instead of your prison is powerful. I hope this season brings you clarity, softness, and the kind of peace that only truth can offer
Thank you!
So beautiful and wise. 💜
❤️🙏
love this xxx
❤️🙏
Salwa, this letter landed like a whisper I didn’t know I needed to hear.
Your line—“You are not something to be fixed, you are something to be felt”—felt like someone gently setting down a mirror in front of me. That one sentence dismantled a decade of hypervigilance and performance. We so often confuse healing with striving—reaching for the next insight, the next milestone, the next “fix”—when sometimes the most radical thing we can do is sit and not run.
I felt seen in the way you described the fear of what might happen if we actually let the ache in. That fear of crumbling beyond repair is so real. But you're right—there’s strength in softness. And sitting with what hurts is not the end of us. It’s the beginning of something much more honest.
Anton, thank you for this beautiful message. You captured exactly what I hoped this letter would hold space for…that quiet shift from fixing to feeling, from bracing to allowing. That mirror image you described… I’ve felt it too. It’s humbling, isn’t it? To realise how much of our strength has been wrapped in tension. And how tender the truth feels when we finally stop running. I’m so grateful it reached you in that way. With you in the sitting and the softening
"But surviving and feeling aren’t the same thing, are they?". Oh, boy, these are not the same.
One trap for survivors is staying incredibly busy, "productive ", and so on to avoid having to feel. Survival is hard enough, trying to run from the feelings is more tiring still.
Absolutely Mike. That busyness can be such a convincing disguise for healing but really, it’s often just a way to outrun what’s waiting to be felt. I’ve done it too. Thank you for putting this so clearly…it’s a quiet exhaustion many of us carry
Always take time to let God know how you feel. Understanding that it is a test of your faith can bring relief.
Thank you for this reminder—it really speaks to the quiet strength that can come from faith, especially during hard seasons. Taking the time to be honest with God, even in our confusion or struggle, is such a grounding practice
Yes you are right, sitting with uncomfortable feelings is hard work. I do it too and sometimes I feel the feeling lose its strength … when it returns I feel it from a better place. Thanks for your wonderful post ❤️
Thank you for this…it’s such a gentle and powerful truth. I’ve felt that shift too… like each time we sit with the feeling, it softens just a little. And we meet it from a steadier place. I’m glad this resonated. Sending warmth your way. ❤️
"TED Talk: We Don’t Move on From Grief, We Move Forward With It by Nora McInerny – A real and powerful perspective on sitting with loss."
This TED talk was shared with me within a few days of my daughter's death. It was the first thing that really broke through the overwhelming sense of loss.
It reassured me that I did not need to move on, which implies saying goodbye. Instead, we move forward into a space where our dearly loved is still with us, just in a different way.
As always, I love reading what you have to say.
Nancy, thank you for sharing this deeply personal moment. That TED Talk held me too during a difficult season, and I’m so moved it reached you when you needed it most. There’s such comfort in knowing we’re allowed to carry our loved ones with us—that grief doesn’t ask us to forget, only to find new ways to hold love. Sending you so much tenderness
I find that much of my "discomfort" comes from conflict--my avoidance of it--or my urge to fix it . Thanks for helping me realize that my job isn't always to resolve (re-solve) anything. Sometimes sitting, observing and feeling is the right thing.
That’s such a powerful insight. I relate so much…my instinct has often been to fix, smooth things over, or keep the peace. But like you said, sometimes the real work is in the sitting, feeling, and not rushing to make it all neat
Thank you for sharing these healing words. I’m so grateful that i found you here 🙏
That means so much—thank you. I’m truly grateful our paths crossed here too. Sending you warmth and gentleness on your healing journey
Thank you so much 🙏 your gentle heart and kind words are so soothing they mean more to me than i can express 💗
Yes... this is something I am consciously working on. At a retreat at the weekend, I was experiencing a lot of physical and emotional pain. The women I was with supported me to surrender to it, to listen to it and to let it speak to me. Not an easy thing to do, but I was rewarded with a lightness that has, so far, remained with me. I wrote a poem about it... I will upload it today hopefully. Thanks for sharing this 🙏
That sounds incredibly powerful and brave. To be held in a space where you could actually let go and listen to what the pain had to say… that’s deep healing work. I’m so glad to hear it left you with a sense of lightness. I’d love to read your poem when it’s up. Thank you for sharing this, too