Sharing Something Personal

It has been a chilly week—and a chilly winter. I hope you are finding gentle ways to stay warm and cozy.

As I write, I am resting in the warmth of my home. Outside, the air is cold, and snow is falling. Inside, there is shelter. I feel warmth not only around me, but within me—within the home of my own soul, my body.

Last week was not easy for me, and it was also deeply transformative.

My heart was very tender for a few days. In a session with one of my peers, it felt as though a vault of long-stored feelings opened. I didn’t plan to go there; it simply happened. And I truly believe it happened for me, not to me.

I touched some painful truths more deeply than I ever have before—right to the root. As I met these truths with gentleness and objectivity, tears flowed. The release was cathartic, and at times very uncomfortable.

I felt the tenderness of my Inner Child. I held her with love, breathing into the sensations, letting her know she is safe in my arms and that she is enough—exactly as she is.

As I stayed with the process, something profound unfolded over several days. Walls softened. Feelings that once felt overwhelming were finally being felt. I felt safe. My Inner Child felt safe. Love and compassion met the pain, and the part of me that once felt separate and alone dissolved and returned home to essence.

I wasn’t trying to fix anything or make the feelings go away. I was simply embracing my Inner Child with sincerity and love. She is the one who couldn’t feel those feelings when she was young—they were too much, too painful—so they were stored away. And now, they were ready to be seen, felt, understood, and integrated.

And at one point last week, I remember having a big, huge sigh of relief, feeling the peace and comfort of simply being here now.

We cannot change the past, but we can choose presence and compassion. For me, this choice is a reclaiming of my power, my autonomy, and my essence.

Fifteen years ago, I would never have shared something like this so openly. When I trained as a meditation teacher, the message I received over and over again was that the goal was peace, bliss, and stillness. When difficult feelings arose, we were encouraged to “choose the stillness.” As a teacher, I felt pressure to appear peaceful at all times—and shame when I wasn’t.

Today, I know something different. Feeling our feelings—being real, being vulnerable—is a strength. It takes courage. And it is the doorway to essence and our true nature.

Last week, I asked AI to create an image for me. I used one photo of myself as an adult and one from my childhood, and asked for an image of the adult me holding the younger me—my Inner Child—in a loving embrace. It makes my heart smile, and my soul soften each time I look at it.

This photo is me and my beautiful Inner Child.

Most of us were never taught how to feel our feelings. We live in a culture that tells us we must always be happy, stay busy, be productive, be successful—and then we will be enough, then we will be lovable.

And when we pause and truly look at the state of the world, we might gently ask: Is this way of living really working—for us, individually and collectively?

Perhaps the invitation is not to become better or more healed, but simply more present. To meet ourselves with the same tenderness we would offer a beloved child.

May we remember that our feelings are not obstacles to peace—they are the doorway. And when we meet them with love, we discover we were never broken, only waiting to be held.

 With love and compassion,
Diane