It could be so much easier

We are emerging from a time of cozy, hopefully slower, quieter days; that dreamy space after the holidays when new energies begin to emerge. There is a buzz in the air around changes, resolutions, and the field of possibilities that lies before us when that last digit on the calendar turns to a new year, and everything seems magically different.

‘Tis the season for self improvement. If you find yourself caught up in the world of self-help, reading the books and trying the strategies, but finding that, at best, you are managing to accumulate a lot of knowledge without truly experiencing transformation, don’t worry – you’re not alone, and nothing is wrong with you. The reason self-help doesn’t really work is right there in the name. The very term “self-help” holds the cultural trauma that we hold up as a cultural value: help yourself, do it alone, push through. We are alone, and wonder why we are lonely. We don’t experience true interdependence, and so we keep trying to find what we’re looking for in even greater independence. Only to find ourselves right back where we started. So, let me suggest a gentler, counter-cultural possibility: We can return to, or reclaim, ancient ways – ways that neuroscience has now gotten around to proving. The mystics and the ways, steeped in traditions that aligned with the patient rhythms of the earth and relied on interconnection, were right all along. Slow down, be with what emerges, hold it, let it move on.

Bearing witness simply means turning towards and noticing — our selves, our environment, our loved ones. It’s a simple but powerful practice.

As we move into this new year, I invite you to lean into something a little softer than making changes through rigid self-help and trying harder. I have found that the most effective way to create the lives we want is not by trying harder or pushing back against the obstacles; instead, it is through bearing witness to the experience. Bearing witness simply means turning towards and noticing — our selves, our environment, our loved ones. It’s a simple but powerful practice. When we learn to bear witness to the darkness and the joy, to the presence of another, to the energy in the space between us, we learn to dial back into our senses, connecting to our inner landscape. In turn, we can tune in deeply to the presence within one another. It is a simple concept, really, but sometimes simplicity can leave us a little stunned. Allow me to illustrate.

Witnessing as transformative

My seven-year-old and I were strolling the shoreline of our sleepy ocean town, collecting rocks that resembled planets in our solar system. Somewhere in the stooping, comparing, and balancing on driftwood, our Mars and Jupiter stones went missing. We spent some time retracing our steps, but on a west coast beach full of rocks, these two tiny planets were well settled into their new galaxy. I decided to follow her lead on how long we would seek to reclaim them. As awareness of the futility of the task settled on her, she stomped away and planted herself on a driftwood perch, her back facing the ocean, head down, hot tears streaming down. 

I slowly made my way over, sat within arms reach, and reminded myself that I had all the time in the world. She does not emote quietly, so after the sounds of anger abated, I said, “I can feel how disappointing this is. I’m so sad with you.” A frustrated grunt, then silence. Some moments later, her little bum scooched an inch closer to me. I noticed when my urge to talk her through it, to coach and guide her, would emerge. I witnessed this urge moving through me, knowing full well that any attempts at it would squash her experience of grief and disconnect me from being able to feel her pain and flow with her. I witnessed each wave of my response, and the emotion I felt within her, and I did nothing but witness it. As my own inner ease increased, she would scooch a little closer. And closer. A little more. Many moments later, her head was in my lap as she sobbed, my arms around her, a sense of knowing flowing between us.

“Mama, can we go now?”

“Of course.”

She slipped her hand into mine, and after some silence, she chattered about the planets we did have, what a lovely day it was to be on the beach, how she wished her siblings had come to see just how beautiful it is first thing in the morning. She certainly did not need admonishments from me on how to be positive, let alone advice, distractions, or any attempt at changing how she experienced this loss.

Making contact

Imagine if I had responded differently. If I had been in a state where I was pressed for time, or too triggered by my child’s distress to hold space for it. If I had labelled her response as overreaction or ingratitude. If I had tried to fix it by frantically combing the beach to replace the stones. If I tried to distract her from her sorrow. 

When you experience any feeling, such as frustration, anger, pain, sadness, or fear, it may feel stuck somewhere in your body, trapped in your nervous system. It can always be moved through to be integrated or released, but not ever by trying to move past it.

Energy cannot be destroyed, but it can be changed from one form to another. When you experience any feeling, such as frustration, anger, pain, sadness, or fear, it may feel stuck somewhere in your body, trapped in your nervous system. It can always be moved through to be integrated or released, but not ever by trying to move past it. The experience of another person accurately attuning to and holding space for our experience without fixing, advising or being overwhelmed by it, is one way that energy can be changed, and the charge in it released. It takes energy to hold stuck feelings; in being witnessed by another, or even in witnessing our own experiences, our nervous systems can release the tightening or constriction required to hold those stuck feelings, allowing us to return to a place of feeling connection within ourselves and with those around us.

Imagine that as you lean into the burgeoning energy of the new year, that you will hold this energy of being with your experiences, and being with the experiences of others, with no agenda to change them. What would that look like?

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Consciously connecting

You’ll notice that I didn’t force anything with my daughter; rather, I held her and my experience in my own conscious awareness. Imagine that as you lean into the burgeoning energy of the new year, that you will hold this energy of being with your experiences, and being with the experiences of others, with no agenda to change them. What would that look like? Have you ever noticed that when you sit with a friend or loved one, sharing your stories and witnessing one another’s internal worlds, that they become radiantly beautiful to you? When we bear witness to one another in this way, our stuck feelings and ways of being can integrate, bringing vitality to the body, the mind, the soul. Suddenly, the person’s appearance transforms before your eyes. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder — the witness — and in this shared beauty, the light grows. There, freed from the constriction of holding our stuck feelings alone, answers reveal themselves, insight appears, and changes happen. All without strain.

When we are not witnessed, however, we will often spend our days unconsciously repeating patterns that reinforce previous experiences of not being accurately seen and held. We can shift this, though. Naming our internal experience, or being with another who can name what they witness in us, reorganizes the space between us. The experience integrates, rather than having to be shifted through some herculean effort. And we can even befriend ourselves, bearing witness to our own experiences, and offering ourselves the space and care we need.

Transformation

Witnessing is necessarily slow. It is a pause, a lingering long enough to orient to what is happening, and only responding after we have made contact with our own inner experience. I invite you to witness your own experience of reading this article - perhaps there is an excitement brewing, or a sense of frustration, at the suggestion of slowing down. Whatever it is, witness it moving through your body. Is there perhaps a sensation of tension, or buzzing, or your heart racing? Do you witness emotions of sadness, fear, or excitement? Can you simply let those experiences run their course, watching them move through you until they shift or release? It may help to think of this process a little like eating a large meal; it’s best not to exercise immediately after a large meal, so you allow yourself time to digest. You may notice more or less energy depending on what you ate, and you simply expect that to happen based on what you consumed. In the same way, your nervous system is going to move through physiological and emotional responses to whatever is happening in and around you. You can witness your inner landscape “digesting”, before you act or make any decisions, mitigating any pain or oversights that might otherwise be caused if we skip this step. As we lay out our goals for the year, let us lean into the stretch that it is to be with ourselves as we are. Racing through life and being productive has taught us to consume information and analyze it, without the richness, depth, and insight that comes from also engaging our creative, visualizing, and emotional regions of the brain, which is where we find this capacity to bear witness. 

When we slow down in a culture that wants us to rush, when we bear witness in a culture that wants us to fix and change, it can feel strange, unproductive, and uncomfortable.

As you head into this next hour, day, month of this new year, consider this gentle shift in your approach toward change. This slowing down and noticing. Bearing witness to what is — in you and in those around you — without pushing past it. We live in a culture with a rushing current of quick fixes, radical independence and pushing past our pain. When we slow down in a culture that wants us to rush, when we bear witness in a culture that wants us to fix and change, it can feel strange, unproductive, and uncomfortable. But when we do, we tap into the vibrant thrum of community, of hearts beating together. We walk out the movement of our ever evolving selves, where there is so much more beauty than what our eyes perceive. 

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