Permission to Be Human

I've had some interesting conversations with several women this week about the pressure in our society to always be happy, positive, and "doing well."

Have you ever been going through a difficult time and someone says, "Focus on the good things." "Stay positive." "Smile. Everything will be okay."

These words are usually offered with love and good intentions.

But sometimes, without realizing it, they send another message:

"What you're feeling right now isn't okay."

Many of us grew up hearing things like, "Suck it up." "Get over it." "Don't cry."

Or we admired people because they always seemed happy, believing that happiness was somehow the goal.

I think this pressure can also show up in some spiritual communities. It certainly did for me.

Years ago, when I was teaching meditation with the Ishayas, the emphasis was on experiencing inner stillness and bliss. If I—or one of my students—was experiencing a difficult emotion, we were encouraged to "choose the stillness."

At the time, I interpreted that as leaving behind the part of myself that was hurting—as though sadness, fear, anger, or grief were signs that I wasn't doing spirituality "correctly."

I carried a tremendous amount of pressure to appear peaceful.

I traveled a lot teaching meditation, and there were times when I was quietly struggling inside. Yet I would put on a smile and wear the mask of someone who was always at peace. Students looked at us and thought, "I want what they have." They believed we had somehow arrived.

But inside, I was pretending.

The more I pushed my feelings away, the more disconnected I became from myself. Then came shame, guilt, and the painful belief that something was wrong with me for feeling what I was feeling.

Gratefully, my practice today looks very different.

I am no longer trying to stay positive.

I am no longer trying to always be happy.

Instead, my practice is to gently meet whatever is arising in this moment with awareness and compassion.

Our emotions are not the problem.

We are not broken because we experience grief, fear, sadness, disappointment, or anger. These emotions are part of being human. They are not obstacles to our growth—they are often the doorway into it.

This truth also guides the way I work with others.

Whether I am sitting with someone one-on-one or facilitating a women's circle, if someone is feeling overwhelmed, sad, stuck, grieving, or angry, I would never say, "You just need to be more positive." Can you imagine how that would land?

Instead, I offer something very different.

I create space for them to feel exactly what they are feeling. To express it. To breathe with it. To be witnessed without judgment and without feeling like they need to fix themselves or rush through the experience.

Time and time again, I have witnessed something remarkable. When people are given permission to fully experience their emotions with compassion and awareness, something begins to soften. Healing unfolds naturally—not because they forced themselves to think positive, but because they stopped fighting themselves.

When we constantly try to control our experience or push uncomfortable feelings away, we stifle our own healing. We may appear peaceful on the surface, but underneath we remain disconnected from ourselves.

Ironically, it is when we allow ourselves to fully feel what is here that something begins to shift.

Peace arises naturally.

Strength emerges.

Our perspective often becomes lighter—not because we forced ourselves to "think positive," but because we honored our experience instead of resisting it.

That, to me, is where self-love begins.

This is one of the reasons I am so passionate about creating safe and sacred spaces.

Spaces where there is no pressure to perform.

No pressure to be "spiritual enough."

No pressure to be happy.

Just permission to come exactly as you are.

Last weekend, I was reminded of how healing these spaces can be.

On Saturday, I attended a beautiful gathering called A Day Out of Time. Some people were dancing. Others were creating art. Some were deep in conversation, while others simply lay in the grass, resting. There was no right way to participate. Everyone was free to follow what their heart needed in that moment. Thank you, Juna and Sabine!

From there, I went to a bridal shower where I was invited to guide a meditation and tapping session. We sat together in a circle—relaxed, present, and connected. There was so much love in that space. Every woman was simply being herself.

Then, at the end, out of the blue, I felt inspired to put on Dancing Queen by ABBA, and we danced together in the beautiful park.

It was another reminder that there is no "right" way to be. Sometimes we sit quietly. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes we dance. Thank you, Michelle, for inviting me!

It left me wondering...

What if there were more spaces like this?

Spaces where we didn't have to pretend.

Where we didn't have to force a smile if our heart was hurting.

Where joy was welcome.

And so was grief.

Where laughter and tears could exist side by side.

Where we were all welcomed exactly as we are.

Because let’s face it - sometimes life is downright messy.

I have a feeling the world would be a much gentler place.

And perhaps that's where true peace begins.

As I usually do, I'll be taking the month of August away from writing my weekly blog. It's a time for me to take a little break, be inspired, and prepare for all that the fall season will bring.

Wherever you find yourself this summer—whether you're feeling joyful, uncertain, peaceful, overwhelmed, or somewhere in between—I meet you there.

Wishing you a gentle and nourishing August. I look forward to reconnecting with you in September.

With love,

 Diane