Episode 63
What do we do when life brings us to our knees?
What do we do when pain enters the body?
When grief enters the heart?
When a loved one is suffering?
When something happens that is so overwhelming that all of our spiritual practices suddenly feel inadequate?
What do we do when the spiritual toolbox that has served us so well no longer seems to be enough?
And perhaps even deeper…
What do we do when we know, intellectually, that we are consciousness, that we are soul, that we are more than this physical body… but the pain is so intense, the grief is so deep, or the circumstances are so overwhelming that all of those understandings seem to fly right out the window?
If you’ve been navigating something like this yourself, or if someone you love is moving through something difficult right now, this episode may be for you.
Because today I want to explore one of the most profound questions that came through from our community.
A question that I suspect touches many more people than we often realize.
So if you’re ready to join me, pull up a comfy chair, invite in your soul, and be open to receive exactly what you need to live by and thrive as the embodied soul you are.
⸻
This episode was inspired by a question from one of our community members.
They shared that it’s easy to feel connected, aligned, and spiritually grounded when things are going well. When the body is functioning. When life feels manageable.
But what happens when a sudden illness appears?
When physical pain becomes overwhelming?
When your body seems to be going through something you never expected?
When grief arrives?
When you watch someone you love suffer?
When mortality suddenly becomes very real?
And they said something that struck me deeply.
They said that in those moments, all of the spiritual understanding can seem to disappear. Knowing that you are the I AM Presence doesn’t necessarily make extreme physical pain easy. It doesn’t necessarily make grief easy. It doesn’t necessarily make loss easy.
And they asked: How do you deal with that?
Aside from complete surrender… how do you deal with that?
And as I’ve been sitting with this question, I keep coming back to one thing.
There isn’t a quick answer.
There isn’t a magic answer.
There isn’t a “make it go away” answer.
Because what we’re talking about here is part of being human.
And I want to approach this conversation with as much compassion as I can. Because if you are in the middle of one of these experiences, I don’t want to sit here and pretend that it’s easy.
Sometimes life hurts.
Sometimes grief hurts.
Sometimes the body hurts.
Sometimes circumstances arrive that bring us to our knees.
And I think one of the most important things I want to say is this:
In those moments, your job is not to be enlightened.
Your job is to be human.
Your job is not to transcend what you’re feeling.
Your job is not to pretend you have it all figured out.
Your job is not to bypass the experience.
Your job is not to force gratitude.
Your job is not to perform spirituality.
Your job is to be with yourself.
And for some of you listening, that may be the permission you’ve needed.
Because I think many people quietly judge themselves when they’re struggling.
They think they should be handling it better.
They think they should be more evolved.
They think they should be able to rise above it.
And sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is cry.
Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is admit that you’re scared.
Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is sit on the floor and let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling.
Not because you’re failing.
But because you’re human.
⸻
One of the things I’ve noticed is that when life becomes overwhelming, we often start looking far ahead.
How am I going to get through this?
What if it gets worse?
What if it never changes?
What if I lose this person?
What if this diagnosis means this?
What if this becomes that?
And before we know it, we’ve left the present moment entirely.
We’ve moved into future possibilities and imagined outcomes.
But what if, instead, we made the moment smaller?
Not:
How do I get through the next year?
Not:
How do I survive the rest of this experience?
Not:
How do I solve this?
But simply:
What do I need right now?
What do I need in this moment?
A glass of water?
A cup of tea?
A blanket?
A walk?
A hug?
A cry?
A nap?
Five minutes sitting in the sunshine?
Permission to stop trying so hard?
What do I need right now?
Because I have found that when life feels overwhelming, I may not know how to navigate the whole journey. But I can usually identify one thing that would support me in this moment.
And what if that was enough?
What if one moment at a time, asking yourself what you need, was enough?
⸻
The other thing that keeps coming through for me is this idea of not abandoning ourselves.
When pain arrives, many people leave the body.
Not intentionally.
Not because they’re doing anything wrong.
But because pain is difficult.
So we move into fear.
We move into stories.
We move into trying to figure everything out.
We move into the future.
We move into explanations.
Sometimes we move so far into the spiritual realms that we stop being present with ourselves altogether.
But what if one of the invitations is not to leave?
Not to leave your body.
Not to leave yourself.
Not to abandon the part of you that’s hurting.
The body is communicating.
The body is speaking.
The body is asking to be heard.
And sometimes all we need to say is this:
I hear you.
I’m listening now.
I’m sorry I wasn’t listening earlier.
But I’m listening now.
I don’t need to understand everything.
I don’t need to fix everything.
But I am here.
And I am listening.
There is something profoundly healing about simply remaining in relationship with bodies and with ourselves.
⸻
Now I also want to say something that feels important.
There can sometimes be a belief in spiritual communities that if we are spiritual enough, conscious enough, or energetically aligned enough, we shouldn’t need support.
That we should be able to think our way through it.
Meditate our way through it.
Energy heal our way through it.
And while those things can be beautiful supports, I don’t believe there is anything wrong with receiving help.
There is nothing wrong with seeking treatment.
There is nothing wrong with working with doctors.
There is nothing wrong with medication if that is what is aligned for you.
There is nothing wrong with support.
Support is support.
And I have often set the intention that whatever I receive, my body receives, is exactly what it needs for its highest good, and anything else simply passes through.
The body takes what it needs.
The rest is released.
It often allows us to relax into what we may be receiving.
There is no spiritual medal for making things harder than they need to be.
Sometimes allowing ourselves to receive support is part of the healing.
⸻
And then there is the question of surrender.
Because I think surrender is often misunderstood.
People hear surrender and think giving up.
Resignation.
Defeat.
But that’s not how it feels to me.
Surrender feels more like remaining present with what is.
Not because we like it.
Not because we agree with it.
Not because we would have chosen it.
But because it is here.
And sometimes surrender means releasing all the ideas about how things should be.
How we should be feeling.
What should be happening.
What shouldn’t be happening.
How quickly we should be healing.
How well we should be coping.
Who we should be right now.
Sometimes surrender is allowing ourselves to be exactly where we are.
⸻
And there’s one more thing I want to share.
There have been moments in my own life where the grief felt endless.
The tears felt endless.
The longing felt endless.
The why me.
The how could this happen.
The how is this my reality.
I’ve been there.
And yes, it was painful.
And yes, it was hard.
But one of the things I understand now that I didn’t understand then is that I didn’t need to carry it all alone.
There were moments where I could’ve asked for help.
Moments where I could ask my Guides.
Moments where I could ask my Higher Self.
Moments where I could ask the people around me.
Moments where I could simply say:
This is too much right now.
Can someone help me carry this?
Not take it away.
Not fix it.
Just help me carry it for a little while.
And I truly believe that support arrives when we allow ourselves to receive it.
⸻
And finally, I want to leave you with this.
Joy may not be accessible right now.
Peace may not be accessible right now.
Gratitude may not be accessible right now.
And that’s okay.
But perhaps there is one small thing that could bring a moment of softness.
A moment of relief.
A moment of comfort.
A moment where your shoulders relax.
A moment where you feel cared for.
Don’t underestimate those moments.
They matter.
More than you know.
And maybe that’s enough for today.
Maybe moving through something is enough.
Maybe taking the next breath is enough.
Maybe staying with yourself is enough.
Maybe asking what you need is enough.
Maybe being human is enough.
And maybe there is extraordinary courage and dignity in that.
If this conversation has supported you today, and someone came to mind while you were listening, please consider sharing the episode with them.
And if you’d like, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
What resonated? What landed? What are you taking with you from today’s conversation?
One of the things I love most about this community is that when we share our experiences, we often discover that we’re not nearly as alone as we thought we were.
So if something touched your heart, or if you’re navigating something similar and feel called to share, know that your words may be exactly what someone else needs to hear.
I’m sending you so much love. Be gentle with yourself this week.
And remember that even in the moments that feel heavy, overwhelming, or uncertain, you don’t have to carry everything alone.
I look forward to being with you again next time. Much love.
