Holding change in a delicate system

Supporting myself as life seasons change and anxiety shows up to greet me once more...

Hello to anyone who is new here… I am Lauren, a Mother of two daughters, a Writer, Soulful Business Mentor, Website & Branding Creator, Human Design Guide, Circle Facilitator, Sacred Space Holder and multi dimensional human being. You can find out more about this space and what to expect here. Please do subscribe to join the journey, and if you enjoy this, and you do have the means, I would be so grateful if you chose to support my creations for £5 a month…

Salty skin and sandy toes to begin my birthday celebrations…

Hello lovely one

How is your heart feeling today?

I actually feel quite tethered as we begin this week, despite the bigness of it. I had a beautiful birthday week full of gentle celebrations as I turned 41 last Tuesday and I feel very supported and loved by those dear to me which is fueling me through the transition that this first week of September brings.

As I grow older it is less about big nights out and unwrapping endless gifts, and so much more about the little moments of connection with others and the inner smile that lands when you open one or two gifts that have been so thoughtfully chosen.

A beautiful candle, a notebook to mark this new spin around the sun, flowers, a deliciously scented body cream to bring ritual to the mundane, ceramics… always ceramics. The gifts I received this year made me feel fully seen in myself, understood, a reminder that my loved ones really know me.

We spent a night as a family by the sea in Broadstairs on the eve of my birthday, which meant waking up and dipping toes into salty water BEFORE breakfast. For me that was my day complete and I secretly hope it might become a new ritual we can return to in future years.

I also took my eldest to see Frozen at the theatre for her first ever West End show and had this visceral remembering of how much live performances move me. The music, the energy and watching my little girl’s face mesmerized by such a full body sensory experience was something I will not forget and I truly felt it in my entire body. She has spent the week telling people that she saw Anna and Elsa ‘for real life’ and it makes my heart flip flop every time I hear it.

And now we have just a few days, mere hours, before the biggest transition of my 4 (almost 5) year old’s life is upon us. Her first day of school.

It’s been brewing for a while of course, it is not a surprise to us that we reach this milestone, but since finishing pre-school in July we have been floating around in this ‘between’ period. It has been a summer of spaciousness and beautiful memory making, as well as expanding my comfort zone as a Mother of two and gifting myself the medicine of removing many self imposed pressures.

Change is coming

But now, as the imminence of school dawns upon us, and with that comes a total change of rhythm as we succumb to being at a certain place at a set time five days a week, I am having to hold myself — and her — very, very gently.

I wake every morning each day a little closer to the start of this chapter. A new time for all of us, not just her, and I feel the simmering, fizzing anticipation of change on the horizon within my body.

It feels like a tightrope that I am ‘just about’ holding myself steady on.

A delicate system

I would describe myself as someone who feels my body deeply. Sometimes ‘too’ deeply in fact, to the point where every sensation can feel like sirens going off in my system. It’s something I felt as a child, numbed as I got older, and gradually have been returning to as I grow older and learn how to hold the fragility in myself.

Sensitive. Delicate.

Both are words that I would use to describe my nervous system. At times I have wished these feelings away and it is only as I grow older that I have allowed myself to really witness these parts of me, to allow them to be there, and to allow them to show wisdom and guidance instead of pushing them away.

Lake reflections at sunset are a soothing balm right now

Anxiety… my old friend…

At the start of the summer, back in June, I felt the increase of anxiety sweep in and with it the old story of ‘why me?’, ‘why do I have to be like this?’, ‘why can’t I just deal with things like everyone else does?’. I spent some time defaulting back to old patterns of anger and frustration towards my ‘delicate stature’… I tried to change myself physically by controlling food and upping supplements and even going to the GP and practically begging to be put on anti anxiety medication because I simply wanted to escape the hideous sensations in my body.

I felt like I was letting the girls down, that they would be bearing the burden of an ‘anxious mother’ and that I was a failure for being in this space… again.

I wanted nothing more that to escape the racing heart. The nausea. The hyper sensitivity to light. The inability to sit still. The inability to think straight and sometimes even answer a simple question… each sensation is a catalyst for another sensation and it doesn’t take much for me to spiral into total panic.

Every morning I was waking up and trying to force it all away and I felt like I was trapped. A concoction of my nervous system wanting to flee and also collapse into freeze state.

To be holding all this within my body AND trying to Mother at the same time felt terrifying, and yet somehow it also showed me that I COULD hold these parts of me together and something about that offered me unexpected medicine.

Returning to love

One morning, after a voice note conversation with my dear friend

Ellie Nova

, she reminded me that I could choose to try and push all of this sensation away OR I could allow the feelings to be there and to meet myself with love and compassion.

I remembered that I had agency. I had choices even when I felt like I was overcome with challenging feelings. I could CHOOSE to hold myself and let the sensations be there and meet them with gentleness instead of instantly trying to push them away.

On this particular morning, as I stood at the sink washing up the girls’ breakfast dishes, desperately trying to get through the minutes (that feel like hours when you are in the throes of an anxiety attack) until I got the children into childcare for the day… I dared to welcome it all in.

Breaking the pattern

While it wasn’t an easy task, and my anxiety didn’t magically disappear, it did enable me to see myself through the lens of love, of nurturance and wholeness instead of seeing myself as a failure or as ‘broken’ and that, in those crucial moments, acted as a circuit breaker.

The pattern of seeing sensation as something to run away from was halted and it gave me a chance to take a new path.

I took loving breaths as my heart raced and felt my feet support me on the earth.

I looked out of the window and remembered that I only needed to focus on the moment right in front of me. Just this one breath.

I became present enough to focus on breathing into my belly and exhaling slowly.

I consciously moved slowly as a way to show my system that I didn’t need to ‘flee’, that I was safe, there was no immediate threat. This pace change has been instrumental in my healing journey and can never be underestimated.

I put on some music and danced with the children in the kitchen. I let the nervous energy move me physically, while simultaneously choosing to focus on the laughter, and pure joy, of my girls as we all spun round the kitchen and stomped our feet.

I worked hard to stay present and gradually, I felt the softness slowly returning. The unpleasant fizzing sensations in my body begin to dissipate. My heart rate steadying. My eyes more able to focus. And that individual experience gave me the evidence that I COULD hold myself through turbulent moments WHILE also being there for my daughters.

Once they were safely in childcare I lay my body down on my mat — which is a physical anchor for me — and did a Yoga Nidra to allow all of the fragments that were still whirring around my energy field to gently land.

Holding us in the waves of change

The only constant is change of course

Change feels both exciting to me and highly vulnerable. I crave growth and evolution and new experiences and yet my nervous system can find it incredibly overwhelming.

And so, in this season of change, of moving from not only the early pre-school years for my eldest child, but also from the wildness of summer into a more structured rhythm, as well as the environmental season shifting too… I have to remind myself on a second by second basis to slow, to honour the full spectrum of feelings and to not get swept up in thinking too far ahead… despite also having to organise and plan to ensure that the transitions are as smooth as possible for us all.

In the moments where I feel anxious, I can choose to brace, or I can choose to allow.

In the moments where time is tight I can choose to rush and panic, or I can choose to slow my pace.

In the moments where challenging sensations arise I can choose to wrestle with them and try and escape, or I can choose to meet them with compassion and curiosity.

Self tending in this season

One of the things I have learned in motherhood, and life, is that self tending needs to be proactive rather than reactive. This means, if I know that a season has a lot of change within it, I ramp up my practices before I desperately need it.

For me this looks like being strict with diary commitments and saying no to a lot of social engagements, prioritising sleep and particularly giving myself space before bed to wind down with a (non fiction) book or meditation practice, ensuring my diet is full of colourful whole foods that mean my digestion isn’t overly taxed, movement that weaves in both strengthening and resistance (push ups and squats being my favourite simple movements to feel grounded) together with soothing subtle circular patterns to unravel tension in my body, yoga nidra to sink into stillness and as many walks in nature as I can fit into my days.

As I get older I simply do not have the tolerance to hold as many things as I used to, and instead of seeing this as a weakness I can truly see that actually this slower, simpler way of being is the path I need wish to take in order to truly experience life.

I would love to know, what does self tending look like for you in this season? How do you hold yourself in change? Are you in on the cusp of big changes too right now?

I am going to leave you with this little poem I wrote a few weeks ago when I was feeling particularly tender…

You are growing up
But still so small
In a handful of days
I will drop you at school
You’re ready, I’m not, 
At least my heart isn’t so
It aches and it’s tender
Not ready to let go
Your uniform hangs
And the labels arrive 
Your shoes sit in a box 
I can no longer hide
As we sit on the cusp
Of a chapter unfolding
My arms reach around you,
My hands tightly holding.

Until next time.

Sent with so much love

Lauren

xxx

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If you are local to Kent you can join me in person on Friday 27th September for our next Women’s Circle. You can find out more here.

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Motherhood Essays
Self-Tending Practices
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