Mindful Monday: Stay With It

I’ve been sitting with the question of what to write this week, and what keeps coming up is this: Stay with it.

Stay with the moment.
Stay with your body.
Stay with your feelings.

Stay with your experience—just as it is—without rushing to fix or escape it.

Over the last few months, I’ve been moving through my own intensity. Old trauma has surfaced. Deep emotions have asked to be seen and held.

I won’t pretend it’s been easy, because it hasn’t. At the same time, I’ve come to see this clearly: I can feel deeply and still live my life.

This has been a process.

For the past six years, I’ve moved through a lot of trauma. I’ve shared pieces of my experience with you before, and I feel ready to share more in the future—because it has impacted me on many levels. 

My willingness to be vulnerable has been a strength, not a weakness, and the gift is that it allows me to meet others with compassion, empathy, and authenticity.

People often tell me they feel safe with me. They sense my care and trust that I can hold space for them — and that trust helps them relax. I’ve heard this for years, but I don’t think I fully let it in until recently.

I’ve realized that one of the things that nourishes me most is gathering in circles, facilitating workshops, and connecting deeply with others. The power of community—of witnessing and being witnessed—is, for me, medicine. And I feel this truth more than ever.

I’m deeply grateful to everyone who has gathered with me over the past few months. You may not realize it, but your presence has carried me in ways I didn’t expect—so thank you.

For years, I was part of teachings that promoted spiritual bypassing—the idea that if something felt hard or messy, it needed to be “cleared” or “transcended.” But that only took me further away from my truth. 

Now, I’m walking a different path—a path rooted in presence.

I know there’s nothing to fix, and I don’t need to be anywhere else but here.

This past week, I shared with my mentor how intense things have been. One morning, I woke up in full fight-or-flight mode—that jittery feeling like I just wanted to run. 

Logically, I knew I was safe. But a younger part of me didn’t.

Without even thinking, I got in my car and drove into the country. I enjoyed the beautiful scenery, breathed deeply, and let the music soothe me.

Then I began using the technique called Tapping—gently pressing and tapping on specific points on my body. It’s a simple and powerful practice that helps regulate the nervous system. As I tapped, I noticed my body starting to relax, and my mind clearing. I felt calm. I felt safe.

The next day, I felt the intensity again. I came home from yoga and was agitated and restless. So, I sat, breathed, and began tapping again.

And then… something shifted.
It was subtle but powerful.
A soft snap. A release. Silence.

That anxious part of me—there for weeks—simply dissolved. Not because I pushed it away, but because I stayed with it. I supported the part that felt alone and afraid. I breathed. I listened to her.

I share this not because it’s a neat, happy ending, but because this is the spiritual path.

It’s not a straight line.
It’s not always light and love.
It’s not about escaping the human experience—it’s about being in it, fully.

There’s so much pressure in spiritual and wellness spaces to “stay positive,” to “vibe high,” to manifest our way out of discomfort.

But sometimes healing looks like crying in your car, tapping on your body, and whispering, I’m here. I’m not leaving you.

My willingness to feel the feelings is what deepens my connection to my true essence, to peace, love, and strength.   

As I write this, there’s a quietness in me. A stillness. A feeling of rightness—not because everything is perfect, but because I know I am exactly where I’m meant to be.

If you’re going through something challenging right now, I want you to know I'm sending you love and offering this...

Be gentle with yourself.
Listen to what you need.
You aren't broken.
You don't need to be fixed.

And be open to receiving the compassionate, loving support from people who would appreciate the opportunity to hold space for you.

This is freedom.  The freedom to be here, now.

With love,

 Diane