What feels stuck in your life right now? Start there.
This past week, I've experienced a bit of writer's block. When I've sat down to write, I've felt churning discomfort and an urge to focus on something else.
Over the years, I've learned that in order to hear, access, and receive my inner voice – the wise and curious core nature from which it feels like my writing flows – it's necessary to start where I'm at.
So if there's a block, start there.
If there's angst, start there.
If there's awe and wonder, start there.
If there's a question on my heart, start there.
If there's a little bit of everything (worry and curiosity, for example), start there.
To underscore this message, recently author and writing teacher Betsy Murphy sent out a wonderful newsletter in which she talked about how “the stuck place is where the story lives,” and it inspired me to write freeform on what felt stuck inside. What I found was the intense scrutiny of my inner critic convincing me of things like:
Writing (and talking about!) anything not tangibly grounded in ordinary reality is irrelevant.
Nobody cares what you write. And no one has an attention span for long-form writing anymore. Why waste your time?
You'll never be taken seriously if you write about unseen realms – make it more normal.
There are more important things to focus on when the world is on fire.
**
When it comes to the inner critic, there's more than meets the eye. Surface-level self-help books might say something like, “Bulldoze any resistance that comes up and do it anyway!” While that may work for some people, I've found it's not an effective approach for myself or my clients.
When I bulldoze my inner critic, I'm bulldozing part of myself, a voice that is trying to protect me. And in my mentoring practice, I've often seen that clients dismissing their present feelings fuels anxiety and apathy. The more voices of criticism & doubt are denied, the more resilient they become at making their presence felt and known in other ways (through agitation, irritation, annoyance, procrastination, etc.)
Through training and receiving somatic care over the last several years, I've reoriented myself to become curious about the nuances in my inner world – even when it's things like doubt, criticism, and a feeling of being stuck.
With a little presence and curiosity, I've found that what feels 'stuck' inside is often two opposing feelings at odds – and in the case of writer's block for me, there's one feeling saying, “I want to write! I'm excited to share!” and another that says, “I can't share. Stop and don't even try.”
In somatic trauma resolution, this is known as a double bind – when there's an “I can't” paired with “I must/should/need to.”
For example:
I need to slow down and I can't slow down.
I need to get this anger out and it's not safe to be angry.
I need connection so bad it hurts and I can't possibly endure the vulnerability of intimacy or rejection.
Are there times you resist taking action, and you're not sure why? If so, you might be in a double bind.
Rather than immediately cooperating with one feeling while ignoring or bulldozing the other, it can be helpful to notice and acknowledge the opposing pull in direction – noticing both momentums existing simultaneously.
Whether I'm guiding myself or clients through this process, once the bind is clear, I then will check in to notice if one feeling is asking for attention first. For example, while experiencing my writer's block and the opposing feelings of “I want to write!” and “I can't write. (the critic)” – I sensed that the critic needed to be heard first.
Instead of shaming, blaming, or attempting to release the critic – I become curious. What if this critical part could take up space and show me what it's like to be critical? What might it be attempting to accomplish?
I felt into the “I can't write” part of my mind and body, and noticed it took form in my inner vision looking like a critical and analytical professor, wearing a lab coat and scrutinizing my every move with a pinched expression.
When I gave this professor space to grow and express itself, their pinched expression exhausted itself to a place of softening – and I asked, “What do you need?”
“I need you to ground what you write. No matter what you write, I need you to share in ways that are practical and applicable to being here and being human.”
So you're really here to help me ground what I'm sharing and writing?
“Yes. So you don't spiritually bypass.”
If I check in with you on grounding my writing – are you willing to stop criticizing and putting on the brakes before I even start the process?
“Yes. As long as you prioritize grounding.”
Reaching this inner layer of the critic's purpose and expression felt like both a release and a relief that didn't require me to suppress or bulldoze over this honest voice inside of me. I didn't ignore my feelings and “do it anyway.” Through bringing presence and curiosity to this voice, I found that its intentions are good. It wants to help my words land in ways that are both practical and compassionate (not spiritually bypassing).
Upon meeting the feeling of the critic-turned-helper, I re-attuned to my body and found both feelings were on the same page. “I want to write, and I want to ground my writing in real world situations.” I physically felt like there was more space in my consciousness, and the words started pouring through again (in the form of this newsletter!)
Healing work often places an emphasis on releasing – and while release can certainly be therapeutic and a necessary part of the process, the most effective, long-term healing success I've experienced is less about releasing and more about alchemy.
What jewels are hidden within this part of myself that seems to be sabotaging where I want to go? At its heart, how might this part be trying to help me in some way?
In client sessions, this often shows up when we're in the territory of boundary repair.
Recently, I invited one Mentorship client of mine to allow her body to express what it feels like to be angry without harming herself in the process. Her hands immediately moved up into two middle fingers – I invited her to give this motion time for expression, to take up space in the sanctity of our session, and then I asked, “How is this different than how you normally are in your life?”
“I never express anger to anyone. I go overboard to ensure my words are soaked with kindness and that everyone feels heard.”
What if you were a bit more like this in your day-to-day life? Not saying you need to walk around flicking people off – but what if this notion of taking up space with clear boundaries could support you in the momentum of everyday life?
My client immediately began naming all the things she'd stop doing. She also named areas of her life where this way of being would assist her with not going overboard to please and appease everyone.
Through this session, we began affectionately referring to this part as “The Flick” – before responding to a situation in which she would've defaulted to pleasing and appeasing in the past, she agreed to check in with herself and ask, “What would the Flick do here?” It has since given her empowering guidance to pause and make choices that don't compromise her well-being.
**
This is one of many miracles I've witnessed, when turning towards seemingly stuck places inside with curiosity and care loosens their bind and provides much-needed guidance.
Our bodies are wise, and I believe at the core of our inner challenges and wounds is a part inside yearning for presence and attention.
Is there a place in your life where you currently feel stuck?
If so, consider:
If the stuck place inside were two feelings at odds with each other, pulling you in opposing directions, what is each feeling saying? (For example: “I can't…” and “I must…”)
What is the more critical voice saying?
Does its voice remind you of anyone or anything?
If it took a physical form, what would it look like?
What does it need?
Is there anyway it's trying to help you?
EXAMPLE:
I must write, and I can't write.
The “can't write” voice says I can't write because my writing is pointless.
It looks like a cranky professor.
It needs me to acknowledge the places I may be spiritually bypassing.
It's trying to make my writing deeper and more helpful.
I thank it for helping me share writing that is useful and healing for myself and others.
You can also go through this process with the more positive voice that is pulling you towards what you want.
I must write, and I can't write.
The “must write” voice says it's time to steadily share my voice.
It looks and feels like the power of the ocean, ever-patient while embodying cycles of moon & sky song...strong and intuitive.
This part asks me to not censor myself and share my voice today, both for myself and others.
It's trying to help me practice something I truly love doing.
I thank it for reminding me who I am: a person who loves to write, to help other people, to share what I've experienced and what I'm still learning, and to serve as a messenger between the seen and unseen worlds.
If you are yearning for 1:1 assistance through the layers of your inner world, I invite you to apply for 1:1 Mentorship. I recently made a few changes to Mentorship options and offer an optional sample session at a lower rate for anyone wanting to try out what a session might be like before investing in a longer-term program.
Whether working with me in Mentorship or on your own, I invite you to spend some time today listening to your inner critic and acknowledging what it is saying. Notice the ways in which it might be trying to help you (and/or protect you), and see if you can partner with it as an ally in moving through your stuck place and into inspired action, taking a step towards what's calling you forward.
I invite you to meet the voices of hesitancy, criticism, fear, or doubt inside of you with curiosity and care.
With love,
Madeline