Skip to content

January 2023

Between stimulus and response

Between stimulus and response there is space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom. ~Viktor Frankl

In that space between my circumstances and thoughts and my responses, I was frantic, agitated, full of despair, and wanting nothing more than to be elsewhere. My response was to numb out with food. I left very little room in that space for calm, peace, contemplation and reflection. My goal was to move out of that space as quickly as I possibly could.

Over the past several years now, I have worked to cultivate a new space.
In this new space, I pause and I breathe. Slow, gentle, deep breaths.
There is no rush, no emergency.
In this new space, I have an abundance of compassion for myself.
In this new space, I show up to simply be, feel, and listen.
In this new space, I slow down and check in with kindness. and examine what has triggered me.
In this new space, I release judgment. I choose to allow, accept, and embrace emotion rather than resist and make it bigger.

In this new space, I ask myself, “What do I really need right now? How can I best support myself?”

Then I listen for the response.

holding space

Holding Space

There is a lot of talk in the coaching and self-improvement world about holding space. It always sounds like a lovely and peaceful thing to do… and it is. But I think it can also be confusing to understand what “holding space” really is and how to do it.

I’ve been working on holding space for myself and my clients for a few years now. This past August, I decided to embark on a “Year of Living Uncomfortably.” I wanted to challenge myself to stay with discomfort as it arose in my life without buffering against it with food and eating, without daydreaming, checking out, and so on.
About three weeks in, I realized something else: My year of living uncomfortably was really about my year of learning to hold infinite compassionate space for myself. Without compassion, intentionally living with discomfort would dissolve pretty quickly into daily opportunities to beat the shit out of myself. Queue the shame, the self-flagellation, the regret, the guilt, and the remorse.

Drinking Seagulls, Part II

I obsessed about food all of the time as a child. How could I get more Oreos? Where could I eat in peace the chocolates that I had somehow gotten my hands on?
Then I obsessed about food all of the time as an adolescent.
Later I obsessed about food all of the time as an adult.

It is said that the roots of our adult beliefs and behaviors are found in our childhoods. I know that to be true for myself.
For years, I have been governed by a scarcity mindset around food and eating, what is available and what is not.

To better understand why I’ve struggled with food obsession and compulsive eating, I’ve revisited early childhood experiences. My goal has been to have compassion for what have been, until relatively recently, my default thought, feeling, and behavior patterns, and from a place of acceptance, change them.

Drinking Seagulls

Little did my five-year-old self know that I was being set up for a lifelong struggle with food and eating that included body shaming, that I was both too much and not enough, that I was not acceptable as is, that there was something wrong with my body, and more importantly, that there was something wrong with me.