I want to share something that supports me to feel a little more grounded when my fear feels unescapable:

If it feels good to you, you can bring attention to your torso area. Maybe the chest or the stomach.

Maybe drop the shoulders.

Maybe wiggle your feet or toes.

If it feels good to bring attention to your breath you can.

You can also just bring attention to your general personal space.

Breathe three smooth and long waves of breath.

Feel your hands or feet or some part of your body touch another part of your body.

Imagine roots anchored deep and sturdy and benevolent flowing from you to the earth beneath you.

In this moment, you are held and supported.

Breathe in, full, Breathe out, slow.

Take as much time as you need.

When I’m scared, like really scared, what I almost always want is a caring hand to hold.

The great news is that we have such an abundance of caring hands to hold all around us.

May we stand together hand in hand.

May we feel the gentle rise and the fall of our warm animal bodies.

May we connect with one another and the earth that holds us all.

“We share a common interest, survival, and it cannot be pursued in isolation from others simply because their differences make us uncomfortable.” — Audre Lorde

“The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.” – Ida B. Wells

About the Author: Bre Smith (she/they) is a mental health counselor, educator, artist, and writer with a background in psychology and community-based care. Their work centers on trauma-informed, somatic, and ecofeminist approaches to healing, with a focus on nervous system regulation, identity, and relational well-being. Through their writing, Breezy aims to demystify mental health and support more humane, accessible approaches to healing—both inside and outside the therapy room.

This year, as I watched them, I kept thinking, I’ve got to do a blog about all the great and pithy sayings from the characters. Such as, inside the Mines of Moria when Gandalf can’t quite remember which way to go, and Frodo laments he wishes the ring would never have come to him, that none of it had ever happened. Gandalf replies, “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

Or consider Sam’s speech to Frodo, who is about to throw in the towel, and Sam agrees that by all rights, they shouldn’t be the ones in this situation. However, Sam goes on. He likens what is happening with them to a fable, a great story, where it’s the darkest ever, and the heroes, despite the odds, keep going because they are holding on to something. And Frodo asks, “what are we holding on to?” And Sam answers, “that there is some good in this world, … and it’s worth fighting for.”

And the last excerpt, my favorite, is Gandalf’s drawing of a very clear boundary for the Balrog by standing on a bridge and shouting in a guttural tone of pure wizardry, “You … shall not … pass!” And bringing down the full weight of his staff which breaks off the bridge just as the Balrog is stepping on to it and causes the monster to drop into what looks like an endless chasm.

What ties all of these together for me? That no matter what is happening, we all have agency in our lives. We can lament living in such precarious times, we can want to give up, we can express our preferences, but such empty action does not change what is happening. People act inelegantly, the weather turns, the economy crashes, the marriage ends. The most important question is, what do we do at that point?

This for me, is best answered by Gandalf’s response when the Balrog’s whip catches his foot and drags him into the chasm right along with the creature. The scene ends there, leaving us movie-goers to think all is lost … that Gandalf dies. However, in the next movie, Frodo dreams that Gandalf doesn’t just fall, he instead turns head first into the chasm, grabs his falling sword and basically dives after the Balrog. Later in the movie, Gandalf (now the White Wizard) explains how he pursued, fought and smote his enemy on the tallest mountain of the lowest dungeon. He did not succumb to circumstances, he instead chose to finish the battle the Balrog began.

Why? Well, yes, that’s how it was written. But if I project my own interpretation on it, by not giving up, Gandalf found a level of competency, determination, and an absolute resolve to go through what was difficult, disheartening, and yes, frightening. For it is by doing such bold action we prove to ourselves … we can. People may tell us we are capable, however, that can be easily dismissed. We don’t believe them … mostly because we don’t believe in ourselves. But when we go through the fire, and come out the other side, perhaps singed, a bit bloody, and visibly shaken, we have touched, and acted from, our true nature, our true heart, the one that can never be broken. It is such steadfastness that lies at our core when we put down the phones, social media, TV and current culture that instead wants us to doubt and second guess ourselves, and blindly rely on the addiction to external forces to tell us what to do in order to keep us safe. (Which is usually, to buy something, listen to a podcast, or watch a new TV series, anything other than constructive action.) The trial by fire is what transformed Gandalf the Grey into the White Wizard, a far more competent and wise being. This is why, I believe, the Buddha’s dying words were to work on our own salvation diligently. No one can save us unless we want, and take action, to be saved.

How can we embrace Gandalf’s attitude with the Balrog? How can we keep to our New Year’s resolutions or intentions? We can take at least one step, as small as it may be, of mindful action that proves to ourselves we are capable. And if such action helps others, great. We can also find a fellowship, a group of people who can help us take that step. At another point in LOTR, Sam muses if someday there will be a song about Frodo and the ring. As he talks about it, Frodo reminds him he would not have gotten very far without Sam by his side. In Buddhism, this is interdependence, or the idea that nothing exists in a vacuum. We are constantly affected by other people, and affect other people as well, endlessly. It is not so much that one person can change the world … it is that one person supported by several others with the same vision can make a great impact. Looked at from a rather dispiriting side, Hitler couldn’t have done what he did on his own. It took a lot of people supporting him, who had a similar vision, to do what he did. He wasn’t alone.

Which brings us back to something Gandalf says to Frodo in the Mines of Moria right after his pep talk on agency, and I paraphrase, “there are other forces working in the world besides evil … Bilbo was meant to find the ring, and therefore … you (Frodo) were also meant to have the ring. … And that is an encouraging thought.” When we consider that where we are right now is exactly where we are meant to be, it can give us a sense of strength and courage to continue. We’ve made it this far. The Buddha, surrounded by sangha, could not do what he did alone. He said that sangha wasn’t half the spiritual path, it was the whole of it. While we may not be able to solve the ills of the world, we can at least make a constructive difference in our own lives, and that will undoubtedly affect those around us.

And while this last quote comes from The Hobbit series, I offer it as a reminder, something to give courage and strength to whatever you are facing:

“It’s the small things, simple acts of kindness and love,

that keep the darkness at bay.”

Everyone is on a hero’s journey, not to save the world … rather, to defy the darkness in our own lives … to act simply, with kindness and love. Which in turn … might just save the world.

About the Author: Beth Hinnen came to the spiritual path from the corporate world. After experiencing impermanence and greed, she left to study Yoga and has over 1,000 hours in Yoga teacher training, and ended up specializing in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, spiritual scripture that closely aligns with Buddhism. From there, she studied Zen Buddhism for over ten years, including in-person, month-long monastic retreats, until she earned certification, in January, 2023, as a Mindfulness and Meditation Teacher with Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach. Currently, Beth is a co-leader of the IMCD Council, and on the Teachers Collective, as administrator. She hosts a Meetup group called Yoga Meets Buddhism, and for the past three years, has held an online Dharma Wednesdays class that discusses the Yoga Sutras while also bringing in Buddhist teachings, along with Sufi poets, Christianity, Judaism and other spiritual paths that reinforce the words of Sri Swami Satchidananda, the founder of Integral Yoga where Beth studied. “The truth is one, the paths are many.” More information about Beth is at www.samayaco.org.

In one sense fate is something that happens to us, or rather, this is how we experience it. It is the bad luck, the road blocks, the limitations and the roller coaster of life. Fate is the pattern that drives your life, originating from your wounding in childhood. Fate gets named when you find yourself time and time again in the same experience, no matter how different the city, person or circumstances may be. Often we are bewildered by and victim to these recurring events and conditions. This repetitive pattern makes us feel trapped by our fate, and we quietly surrender to it as all-that’s-possible, abandoning our will and our hearts in the process.

Simply put fate is our unconscious beliefs played out by characteristics behaviors that we experience as the only way to be and survive in the world. A hidden agenda fulfilled by our assumption that we are separate and broken and require certain conditions to be viable. An invisible road map we follow unwittingly, fulfilling what we made up to be true about ourselves, others and the world in those formative years.

Destiny is an entirely different beast. Destiny, though often formatted to fit different belief systems, is your soul’s inherent tension to create what it loves and why it chose to be embodied. If you’ve lived long enough and have paid any amount of attention, you’ll have noticed that there are things that you’d really love to create or experience but, due to our conditioning, we give these dreams very little runway, either reformat them to something more practical or acceptable to ‘others’, deem them unrealistic, put them off until it’s a better time; the list goes on.

Destiny is an expression of our inherent power and connection to source energy. As science has proven now, energy cannot be created or destroyed. The energy that animates your form (and makes up your body and the world we live in) is the same energy that created the universe. Your soul is a universally unique expression of the creative energy that makes up everything, and it’s come to have an embodied experience on earth for a reason. Living your destiny is simple yet profound. It’s being the soul version of you. It’s expressing the inherent freedom you have and what brings you actual fulfillment and satisfaction in your life. Your destiny is the things that you love, for their own sake. The creation and experience of them brings you joy in the moments you are being them, and that energy cascades through your whole life.

We often only have a connection to the whispers of our hearts, our destiny. It gets so buried beneath our survival that it can take quite an excavation to remember who we are and what we love. Embodying your soul creates your destiny and heals you along the way. There are actually no barriers to you creating your destiny other than remembering and connecting to your inherent wholeness and listening to the language of your soul – your intuition, and following it.

Both your fate and your destiny reside within you. It’s your choice which one you create in your life. When you gain awareness of how you limit yourself, you gain the ability to choose something different. When you remember who you are in your heart, you create the opportunity to create your destiny and live a fulfilled, joyful, connected life. Both of these aspects of your humanness are created by you and are your choice. Which will you choose?

About the Author: Phannie has a long career of being a movement artist, movement and embodiment educator and creator. During her career as a professional dancer, studio owner, and company founder, she spent her time uncovering what is true and real in this world. Originally used as tools to create content for performances with strong messaging about the human experience, she created the embodiment teachings and methodology of the Radical Love Movement. 

Phannie has dedicated her life to authentic expression and understanding how consciousness works. She now has alchemical structure to support others in discovery and application of their authentic selves expressed through the body.

The holidays are rarely just about the joy, connection, and magic we see in the media. Alongside those pleasant experiences often comes the expectation to do more: consume more, create more, decorate more, cook more. At the same time, nature is slowing down. Shorter days. Colder air. Animals resting. This seasonal mismatch can create stress, tension, guilt, and overwhelm. 

As a holistic therapist in Denver, I often remind clients that this time of year pulls us in opposite directions. So, it makes sense that you may be noticing tension in your mind, body, and spirit.

A Holistic Worldview: Mind, Body & Spirit as One System 

What does it mean to have a “holistic” worldview? Simply put, it’s a perspective that honors cognitive, emotional, physical, relational, and spiritual experiences. It considers the whole system: how we perceive, process, and experience life as complete human beings. 

A holistic approach especially helps explain the mismatch between our “inner winter”—the natural slowing our bodies crave—and the outward cultural expectations of the season. We feel the tension in all parts of ourselves. 

How the Holiday Season Impacts All Parts of Us 

Even if we aren’t fully aware of it, the holiday season pulls on our mind, body, and spirit. As a holistic therapist in Denver, I see how this seasonal tension shows up simultaneously across all areas. Take a moment to reflect on your own experience as we explore each part: 

Mind 

What expectations have you placed on yourself this holiday season? Is there pressure to make things “special” or “perfect”? 

Are you juggling plans, creating experiences, or maintaining peace in your family? 

Body 

When you tune in to your body, what sensations arise during this season? Headaches? Overstimulation? Chronic fatigue? Nervous system overwhelm? 

How is your body experiencing its natural internal winter?

Spirit 

What do your deeper parts crave right now? Meaning? Slowness? Rest? Are you going through the motions, or allowing yourself to be present with the holidays? 

If expectations didn’t exist, how would you like this season to unfold?

Holistic Practices for the Mind 

Mindfulness: Notice when you begin to feel mental overstimulation. Pausing for one slow breath. And then another if it feels supportive. Creative practice: Set a timer for 5 minutes. Make repetitive marks on the page that mimick your racing mind or thoughts. 

Reframing expectations: Become aware of the parts of you that feel responsible or pressured. Reassure then that you are taking care of things, and that not everything has to be done up to their expectations. 

Somatic Practices That Honor Winter While Supporting Holiday Stress 

Nervous system reset: Take a moment to lay on the floor. Notice how it feels to be held and supported by the ground. 

Restorative movement: Starting with your feet, begin to bounce up and down while standing. Then begin shaking your legs, arms, and shoulders to release energy. 

Nature-based grounding: Get bundled up and go on a winter walk. Notice the quiet stillness of nature and connect to the slower rhythm outside. 

Spirit-Nourishing Holiday Practices

Micro-rituals: Create a holiday ritual for yourself to stay connected with spirit—have dinner by candlelight, start a gratitude art journal, or state an affirmation to yourself in the mirror each morning. 

Choosing meaning: Identifying 1–2 meaningful seasonal values that are important to you. Then, act in accordance with those values and use them as your guiding light throughout the season. 

Creative ceremony: Make a holiday decoration or gift by hand (because you enjoy the act of creating). Notice how it feels to be in relationship with your creativity. 

Integrating Mind–Body–Spirit Practices Into a Season That Demands More 

The holidays can feel like an internal tug-of-war. Winter invites us to slow down, yet the season asks us to do more: plan, create, connect, and show up for everyone else. 

Honoring the season, not the pressure, means remembering that resting is natural and nurturing during the winter months. You can make it simple: take a few mindful breaths before tasks, spend 5–10 minutes stretching or grounding your body, and create one small ritual that reconnects you to what matters. Ask yourself, “Which parts of me need rest, even when everything around me is speeding up?” 

When Support Might Help 

If overwhelm starts to feel too heavy or like persistent dread, irritability, or exhaustion, it’s okay to reach out for more support. 

If you’re looking for a holistic therapist in Denver who takes a holistic approach, I support women and moms who want to feel grounded, connected, and more like themselves again.

You don’t have to choose between slowing down and showing up; you can do both, even during the hustle bustle of the holiday season.

About the Author: Leanne is a Denver-based art therapist, perinatal mental health specialist, and space-holder for deep-feeling women and mothers who long to return home to themselves. Blending creativity, mindfulness, and somatic approaches, she guides clients through the sacred work of remembering who they are beneath the noise of trauma, perfectionism, and overwhelm. Discover more at www.WildSunflowerWellness.com.

During any trying time in my life, it drops in for me that adequacy and interdependency are two sides of the same coin. And during those days of COVID, I saw this coin being flipped in every moment, with one word or the other, each coming up about 50% of the time.

For adequacy, on a macro level, there was a lot of failing, from government to social structures to “what does the science say now?” However, on an individual level, what abounded on the internet was the ingenuity of people everywhere to take care of themselves, their families, their community. I loved the grandparents who plastic-wrapped themselves so they could hug their grandchildren; I marveled at the private 3-D printer owners who voluntarily made parts for face shields; I laughed at the Tik-Tok videos; sang the hand washing songs; and cried at the online concerts. The list goes on and on with hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions of examples of people turning to the thought, “well, what can I do given these new parameters?”

I project the human species didn’t survive and get to where it is today by sitting down with fire in a cave and calling it quits. I mean, fire in a cave must have felt yummy after no fire in a cave. The truth is, we humans are inventive, filled with creative energy, and we actually can’t stop ourselves from trying one more thing that might improve an experience (really, pour over coffee is the bomb, such an improvement over drip, French Press, and yes, espresso).

And yet, as many inventors find out, creating includes mistakes, wrong turns, back steps, riffing off past successes, which leads me to the definition of “adequacy.” What a relief to find it does not include “doing it perfectly, or originally.” Adequacy means, according to Merriam-Webster, “sufficient for the need,” “good enough,” “acceptable.” What I sense can happen for many people during trying times is that they are making the situation they are in acceptable, not perfect, not necessarily original, simply adequate. Again, back in COVID, we saw that with healthcare workers, essential service workers, people who had been laid off, and students graduating into a world of who knows what. It sorta sucked, it was sometimes not fun, and yet, they did it anyway.

Which leads to interdependency. Beyond being a “lone wolf,” the way many people experience adequacy is 1) they accept help, or 2) they ask for help. When we do the latter, we automatically understand we can not do anything alone (and asking the Universe for help is a very viable option). Again, during COVID I saw this starkly in my NextDoor app search for the latest sightings of toilet paper on store shelves. When that proved dicey, I found on Amazon an ebook to make my own toilet paper. Intrigued, I wondered if it would have me collect wood scraps, chip, boil, and mash them, and roll the paste between … something … to create a paper-ish substance that might work (turns out, it was reusable toilet paper made from t-shirts, yikes!).

When I found that unappealing, I flipped the coin and came up with interdependency (or adequacy, crap, either one is good here) and picked one morning as a “treasure hunt” and just drove store to store (finding places I never would have gone in before, real treasures!) looking for toilet paper, and lo, at the fifth one, scored some Charmin (I purchased my allotted 2 packages which is an entire other blog about self-worth, a “spiritual” mindset of not being greedy, yada, yada, yada). And it struck me … the Charmin didn’t magically appear on the shelf. Someone, somewhere cut down a tree. Someone drove it to a processing plant. Someone pushed some buttons on some huge machines that did what I was going to do in my bathtub. And these folks relied on the plastic people to supply the clear wrap. Then someone delivered it to the store where I bought it. Oh, and the checkout person, masked, gloved, and behind a plastic window, sold it to me.

The more I heard from people about their experience during those COVID years, the more I saw how the little linings of silver appeared — the sparks of ingenuity, the new space of time to attend to passions, or simply cleaning the house; the new-found love for family members they can’t see (how many of us thought absence was a blessing and found out we didn’t like that either?!) Many people discovered they were stronger, more capable and wholly adequate. And even those who had a desperate, despairing, miserable time, I propose, they too are still adequate to it because … they made it through.

We can’t have one without the other. Our interdependence works because we each are adequate. And we are most adequate because we are wholly interdependent. With everything going on in the world today, now is a good time to bring out that coin, and start flipping it again.

About the Author: Beth Hinnen came to the spiritual path from the corporate world. After experiencing impermanence and greed, she left to study Yoga and has over 1,000 hours in Yoga teacher training, and ended up specializing in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, spiritual scripture that closely aligns with Buddhism. From there, she studied Zen Buddhism for over ten years, including in-person, month-long monastic retreats, until she earned certification, in January, 2023, as a Mindfulness and Meditation Teacher with Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach. Currently, Beth is a co-leader of the IMCD Council, and on the Teachers Collective, as administrator. She hosts a Meetup group called Yoga Meets Buddhism, and for the past three years, has held an online Dharma Wednesdays class that discusses the Yoga Sutras while also bringing in Buddhist teachings, along with Sufi poets, Christianity, Judaism and other spiritual paths that reinforce the words of Sri Swami Satchidananda, the founder of Integral Yoga where Beth studied. “The truth is one, the paths are many.” More information about Beth is at www.samayaco.org.

Chances are good that there are one or two things that really make your blood boil. Some triggers cause fight or flight reactions. Let’s talk about the ones that cause fight, in particular, because fight is a really misunderstood phenomenon. It looks like anger, but is actually acute distress that is based in fear. 

My own biggest trigger is disrespectful behavior. I can become very adamant, very quickly, that people should not, and will not, be treated with anything less than basic decency. This isn’t social justice on my part—I think that would show up a bit calmer, honestly—this is trauma trigger. I know because I get into fight. How can you tell the difference between genuine anger and fight, you ask? Anger is used to bring others into compliance with the social contract, it is usually based in self-esteem. Our anger says, “I don’t deserve to be treated this way, and I want you to know I won’t passively accept it. Should you not shape up, our relationship is threatened.” But it has a rational undertone—it is telling the other person you do not consent. Fight is a fear response. Fight wants only to survive the day, so if it can intimidate, surprise, fluster or leave the other speechless, that’s fair game. Fight is gloves-off, and it runs the show.  

You might have milder triggers—around feeling controlled, or people who won’t pull their weight, perhaps blatant entitlement is hard to swallow. They might not get you into full fight mode, but they are hard for you to step away from and consistently prickle you under the skin. We all want to move away from a tendency toward fight reaction, we all want to be “better” versions of ourselves. The question is how.

The reason a trigger gets stored in us is to prevent the bad thing from happening again. Our nervous system needs reassurance that we are truly safe, and our emotional body needs to work through what happened in the first place. Our culture will throw a lot of shade at anger-like responses so we tend to go underground with this work. Having a reliable fight response carries shame, whereas having a flight response elicits compassion and offers of help. You can work on it on your own, though.

First, figure out how these behaviors hurt you in the past. Understand the wound you are trying so hard to avoid. I’ve seen disrespectful behavior do a lot of damage to people’s sense of self and sense of safety, and so my nervous system treats it the same way it would treat physical threats—with a no-tolerance policy. If I go back, I can look at the situations that caused the trigger, and the damage they created.  

Second, find compassion for your younger self. A sense of injustice is usually part of a lingering fight response. Perhaps you were a kid and couldn’t defend yourself, perhaps you were a young adult and didn’t have the ego strength to prevent the bad thing from happening. Either way, you were hurt, and needed comfort—comfort that you didn’t get. Notice that you are safe now, but you are not healed.

Third, make a plan for how you will handle the trigger when it comes up. I like mantras and action plans, but do what works for you. My go-to with disrespect is 1) Recite the mantra “You are reacting to your old wound, not this person in front of you,” and 2) Leave the situation as soon as possible. I do not give into the strong desire to serve others a tongue-lashing. I do not berate myself, either.  

Fourth, find a time to feel the grief and fear. When blatant disrespect happens in my world, it actually brings up a lot of unprocessed emotions like helplessness and sadness. In counseling programs they teach that emotions show up like a bullseye with anger on the outside, fear, sadness and love in concentric circles underneath. Anger is easiest to access, but love is at the core. When I make time later in the day to comfort that younger version of myself, to cry for her, I work through some of what causes the trigger. I also use this time to make meaning of what happened, of why suffering exists in the world, and how I’m supposed to hold it.

Taking those four steps each time the trigger arises tends to diminish it over time, but it will take time.  The average human has a lot of behaviors that are consistent but are unexamined. We call the lot of them our personality. But we can change, if we want. Carrying shame about a trigger response doesn’t have to be a foregone conclusion. The piece that is missing is compassion for ourselves. We will never be able to change that suffering has always existed in the world, but you can love yourself enough to heal your response to it.

About the Author: Laura Zwisler is a Licensed Professional Counselor and the owner of Lafayette Couples Counseling.  She specializes in relational therapy and men’s work.  Her practice reflects a deep belief that through corrective relational experiences we can heal traumas, get needs met, and fulfill our greatest potential.  In addition to counseling, Laura supervises interns at People House, leads workshops and trainings, and writes about the human experience.  If you are interested in working with Laura, please visit: https://www.lafayettecouplescounseling.com/ or email her at: laura@lafayttecouplescounseling.com.    

This definition and experience of responsibility doesn’t just come from our personal and societal lineage, it also comes from our own experience and patterning. These assumptions and rules of engagement might just be the things that keep us from a successful and enjoyable life. 

Imagine that you have been taught your whole life to be kind and put others’ needs first. This condition can come with the assumption that if you’re kind enough and take care of others enough, one day you’ll get what you want. For example, let’s say you’re in a relationship that you’re starting to resent because you feel taken advantage of and neglected, and one morning your partner says to you, “Let me take care of the chores and cook you breakfast so you can relax and do something you enjoy.” Because of your conditioning of responsibility you reflexively deny this suggestion and carry on being “kind” and putting your partner’s needs first. Now in this moment this feels like the right thing to do because this conditioning has kept you safe in knowing who you are and how to act. But you are blind to the fact that your behaviors and patterning are creating the resentment you are starting to feel.  

How do you experience this moment for what it is and actually get to receive the reciprocal care-taking and enjoyment with your partner? 

Presence – It’s not just a trend, it’s a superpower. 

This is where presence comes into play. 

When you cultivate the ability to be in this moment you free yourself from the story that you carry with you, from the narrative that infects all of your experiences. 

Our ability to be present is a huge determining factor for the outcomes and experiences in our life. And presence isn’t only the Zen Buddhist master sitting on a rock at one with the universe. Presence is simply our ability to be with what is without all the meanings and stories we place upon the moment. 

In our culture, responsibility means doing what’s expected. To take the moment we’re living in and abstract it into an imagined construct that most often doesn’t even come from what we want, but comes from what we’ve been told is the responsible way to be. 

But when we do that we miss the moment, our heart, and our ability to feel fulfilled and expressed. We stay in the reactivity of our story and the expected reality we project, and it often leads to disappointment, suffering and limitations that harden and isolate us even more. 

True responsibility actually resides in the word itself. 

Response-ability. 

Your ability to respond instead of react. To see and hear clearly what is actually going on and take the appropriate action. 

And presence gives you this ability.   

Let’s take parenting as an example here. You were brought up to be polite and not make a fuss. When you did you experienced loss of love from your parents and that was painful, so you continued the behaviors that kept you in their good graces. 

Now you’re grown and are raising your own child. You’ve done some work on yourself and you don’t want to raise your kids the way you were raised. But then you’re in a grocery store with your kid, just trying to make a quick stop, and your kid starts bothering strangers and acting silly. 

You feel a well of worry and terror come up in your body because that was never safe for you as a kid. Those feelings in your body make you want to snatch your kid up, control their body and behavior and get out of that store immediately. And if you aren’t present, that’s exactly what you’ll do. 

But, if you are present, you get to witness those old stories coming through your body, take a breath,  and then choose a different path to acknowledge your child, meet their tiny developing body’s needs and redirect to get what you need done. And that’s truly the response-able thing to do, actually responding to the moment and not just reacting based on the old story you’ve carried with you of ‘how to be responsible’.

About the Author: Phannie has a long career of being a movement artist, movement and embodiment educator and creator. During her career as a professional dancer, studio owner, and company founder, she spent her time uncovering what is true and real in this world. Originally used as tools to create content for performances with strong messaging about the human experience, she created the embodiment teachings and methodology of the Radical Love Movement. 

Phannie has dedicated her life to authentic expression and understanding how consciousness works. She now has alchemical structure to support others in discovery and application of their authentic selves expressed through the body.

Like so many new mothers, I turned to my phone, the internet, and social media, hoping to create the sense of connection I so desperately craved. But instead of filling me up, it gave me only a false sense of community—one that left me feeling even more isolated and hollow.

It wasn’t until I began slowing down, returning to my art practice and intentionally seeking out in-person community, that I found my way back home to myself. Over time, I’ve come to see that slowing down is more than just a pause. For me, it has become a sacred practice—one that one that gently reconnects mind, body, and spirit.

The Myth of “Faster is Better”

Motherhood has a way of exposing the cultural myths we didn’t even know we were living by. Before I became a mom, moving quickly through life felt natural. I thrived in a society that values productivity and achievement, and I was rewarded when I fit the mold. Anyone else?

But motherhood doesn’t fit that mold. It’s messy, unpredictable, and there’s no gold star waiting on the other side of your accomplishments. Still, so many of us feel the pressure to keep up—to heal faster, to quickly figure out who we are as mothers, to rush our children through milestones. This conditioning whispers that “faster is better,” and if we’re not careful, it can seep into the most sacred parts of motherhood.

The Choice to Resist the Myth

Once I became aware of the myths I was reinforcing, I could begin to make a different choice—for myself, my motherhood, and their childhood. Awareness creates the opening; choice deepens it.

When we begin to gently release the story that our value lies in speed, productivity, and achievement, we allow room for something else: connection, presence, and healing. This doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t mean life suddenly feels easier. But it does mean that we can pause long enough to ask: What is actually nourishing me? What pace feels sustainable?

Resisting the myth of “faster is better” is an act of care—for ourselves and for the ones we love. And the more we practice slowing down, the more we remember that worthiness was never tied to speed in the first place.

What Art Taught Me About Slowing Down

As an art therapist in Denver who works with women and moms, I’ve learned that art is one of the best teachers of slowing down. Observation is at the heart of my work. It requires patience, presence, and noticing the small things: the weight of a brushstroke, the layers of materials, the rhythm of the marks, the pauses between them. These details reveal a world that would be invisible if rushed.

Life is the same way. When we slow down, we open ourselves to presence; presence is what allows us to notice beauty, emotion, connection, and awe. When our days are filled with noise and busyness, presence slips away. But when we return to it, even briefly, life feels fuller. Slowing down doesn’t erase the challenges of motherhood, but it does invite us to meet them with more softness, more curiosity, and more room to breathe.

A True Story about Slowing Down with Art

In our culture, art-making is often dismissed as a luxury, not a necessity. Even in art therapy, clients sometimes feel pressure to be productive, to make something “worthwhile.” But the truth is, wisdom lives in the process itself—the layering, the color choices, the repetition of marks.

In a recent session, I witnessed a client slowly repeating patterns, drawing line after line to form a bridge. It was simple, but we noticed something important: she was soothing herself through the rhythm of repetition. The art became a mirror, showing her what her body and spirit were already trying to do: find comfort, safety, and calm through slowness.

It’s not the finished piece that matters, but the way the hand moves across the page. The way we allow ourselves to linger. The gift of slowing down becomes its own medicine.

Returning to the Sacred Practice of Slowing Down

When I first stepped into motherhood in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I felt untethered, lonely, overwhelmed, and without a community to hold me. I sought connection online, but the noise only deepened my isolation. It wasn’t until I consciously slowed down—through art, presence, and in-person community—that I began to find my way home to myself. Slowing down has become more than a pause; it’s a sacred practice that grounds me in mind, body, and spirit.

If you are longing for more space to breathe, know that you are not alone. This longing is a quiet invitation to return to yourself. I invite you to explore this practice with intention, whether through art, mindfulness, or joining a supportive group like Nurture Art Studio for moms, where slowing down becomes a shared journey of care and connection. You can learn more about my offerings at www.wildsunflowerwellness.com or find me on Instagram @wildsunflowerwellness.

About the Author: Leanne is a Denver-based art therapist, perinatal mental health specialist, and space-holder for deep-feeling women and mothers who long to return home to themselves. Blending creativity, mindfulness, and somatic approaches, she guides clients through the sacred work of remembering who they are beneath the noise of trauma, perfectionism, and overwhelm. Discover more at www.WildSunflowerWellness.com.

You want answers. Why do I keep doing this? Why won’t she change? How can I figure out who I’m supposed to be? You suspect The Universe knows the answers, but you don’t know how to extract them. Perhaps there is a wheel we can spin.

This reality hits home for me every day when I sit across from people who think I know the answers. I don’t. People tell their therapists their dreams, their growth edges, their fears, in hopes that the act of putting it out there will get them a seat at the table. As long as you tell me what you want to be accountable for, I’m happy to keep a chair open for you.

Recently, I needed to work on my own change. As a fitness instructor once said, “If it doesn’t challenge you it won’t change you.” Me, sitting at home, therapizing myself didn’t challenge me. It didn’t even move the needle. What would challenge me was to go to therapy. My god, did I have a lot of excuses why not to go. I spend all day talking to people, so I don’t want to do it on my own time. I don’t like other therapists- they won’t do it the way I’d do it. And on and on. Needless to say, one day, I got the courage and I put in my ante. Would you believe it? I adore the new therapist. She’s helping so much. I’m getting unstuck.  

This tool isn’t just for therapy, though. Want to quit your job but you’re afraid of a few months of unemployment? Lots of people in this position try to line up their next gig while they try to transition out of the old one. Pretty sure The Universe is wise to this ol’ Indiana Jones switch-out-the-golden-idol-for-a-bag-of-sand trick. Doesn’t count. You have to sacrifice something of value. You have to bleed a little. Quit the job, face the scarcity, only then the new door opens.

Some lessons are harder for us to learn. Sometimes we have to go a year before we find a new relationship worth taking a risk on. Sometimes we have to give up great opportunities, our pride or our worn out coping strategies in order for the slot to land on triple cherries. Truth is, you don’t need that fun but unnecessary trip, your pride, or even your coping strategies. An ante is something of value, but not something you can’t live without. It cuts, but it’s not fatal.

So how do you know what to ante? Dig deep, you know what it is. What do you not want to face? I didn’t want to get off my high horse about other therapists. I didn’t want to acknowledge that they could see things about my life that I can’t see myself. I felt like admitting that would be to admit I’m a hack. Really it’s just revealing that I’m human. Turns out, perfectionism is a coping strategy I can live without, especially when I’m hurting and I need help. Lesson learned. 

If you’re stuck, you’re not in the game. Of course you’re not winning because you’ve got nothing on the line to win. Is it scary? Yes. Do it anyway. Do it scared. Or just sit and watch until you get up the courage to play. We’ve all been there, too. If you need a nudge, I like this one: dream. Allow yourself to imagine a life where you’re unstuck. Plan the logistics. Feel the ease in your chest. And when you’re ready, reach into your pocket, grab a coin, and ante up.

About the Author: Laura Zwisler is a Licensed Professional Counselor and the owner of Lafayette Couples Counseling.  She specializes in relational therapy and men’s work.  Her practice reflects a deep belief that through corrective relational experiences we can heal traumas, get needs met, and fulfill our greatest potential.  In addition to counseling, Laura supervises interns at People House, leads workshops and trainings, and writes about the human experience.  If you are interested in working with Laura, please visit: https://www.lafayettecouplescounseling.com/ or email her at: laura@lafayttecouplescounseling.com.    

Now it’s a curious thing being identified with our minds, with very little consideration of where the mind or thoughts come from or where they reside, though generally it’s thought to be in our head/our brain. I’ve spent the past twenty-five years investigating suffering, dis-ease, bodies, consciousness and movement, and I’ve found that the mind, as we experience it, is actually in the body, or more specifically, an emergent part of it. 

From a developmental point of view, our brain’s primary job is to organize movement.  Our unique mammalian human bodies have the potential for omnidirectional movement and need a lot of brain to organize it.  The primacy put on the brain and the nervous system is the product of dysfunctional dissection of the human body over the last two hundred or so years. 

While examining dead bodies, fascia, the tissue that is responsible for our animation, movement, homeostasis and so on, was scraped away and dismissed as having no functional contribution to the human body. The very fabric that connects every single cell and system, and organizes it all into form and function was thought to be inert packing material and was not studied until about fifty years ago. This conception of the human body is what our medical and psychological systems are based upon.  Understanding this crucial part of the human body completes the picture of how we work as people. This organizing, omnipresent, biological, communication fabric is your fascia, and it’s more than just connective tissue. 

When we look at mind-body connection we always start in the mind, but in doing that we’re disregarding one of our super powers, sensation, an innate aspect of our self-organization. We’re trained to put our attention on our thoughts and perceptions and fall asleep to the language of subtle sensations. Our mind can manipulate, shifting reality to fit our beliefs and experiences in an attempt to keep us safe. But our body is ever present. Always communicating what’s now, through sensation, knowing and instinct. 

Our bodies are our allies, but we’ve forgotten that they are whole, inclusive of mind and made of nature. Our bodies have a solution to anxiety, fear, disassociation,  but we’ve forgotten how to listen, how to respond, and how to just be. 

There is something profound that we can learn from embryology, that we always are and never cease to be whole.  Our essence, the life force that animates us, is actually present at the moment we move from an egg and sperm to being a zygote. More than its preceding component parts, we become something that self-organizes, through inherent intelligence and sensing, into the complexity that is you reading these words right now. Our bodies come first, organized and created from our essence, with a mind emerging later to navigate the sense of separateness that accompanies being an individual. 

We’ve forgotten who we are and instead using our body’s innate intelligence, we try to use our minds alone to whack-a-mole our problems away, finding that once one has been handled another pops its head up. 

Maybe our dis-ease and dysfunction is actually a product of our disconnection from ourselves.

Ourselves as bodies and beings.

Our bodies are alive and made of fascia, from the liquid our cells move though to our bones, skin and everything in between. 

Our fascia gives us our felt-sense.  When it is fluid, free and functional, we have a corresponding sense of feeling well and like ourselves. When it is tight, bound and restricted our emotional landscape resembles the same, causing distorted perceptions of reality. 

So I offer, from my observations and the emerging science, that our soul’s first creative act is the creation of our bodies. That as we inhabit our bodies, a form, we enter into a world of polarity. In this world of polarity, we emerge a mind so that we can then have the experience of being a separate individual, and in making ourselves individual we forget our essence. 

But body, unlike mind, is always here, in the present, and always communicating to us our return to harmony. 

It’s time to upend and reconsider our conventional approaches to healing and remember not just that we have a body, but that we are a body.

A holistic approach to overall well being must start with our wholeness, and our bodies are the perfect place to reconnect to the continuity of who we are. When we connect to breath, we remember presence, and we come back to now. When we connect to movement we remember why we’re here. When we unwind our patterns of conditioning and assumption we return to our neutral state, begin to break free from our isolation and remember our naturally connected and creative hearts. 

Our bodies are our portals to the knowing and inner wisdom that will heal us. With intention and movement we can rediscover who we are at our core and allow that connection to reframe and reorganize the rest of us, back to who and what we’ve always been. 

If you want to experience the body in the whole new way, visit our website at www.radicallovemovement.com

About the Author: Phannie has a long career of being a movement artist, movement and embodiment educator and creator. During her career as a professional dancer, studio owner, and company founder, she spent her time uncovering what is true and real in this world. Originally used as tools to create content for performances with strong messaging about the human experience, she created the embodiment teachings and methodology of the Radical Love Movement. 

Phannie has dedicated her life to authentic expression and understanding how consciousness works. She now has alchemical structure to support others in discovery and application of their authentic selves expressed through the body.