Embracing the Rocks in Our Tummies: A Journey of Honesty, Vulnerability, and Self-Discovery

Storytime with Kate

I'm gonna start by telling you that I love kids. In order to make it through this newsletter you don't have to feel the same way... but stay with me will ya? *and do your best to read it through my lens of tenderness and awe?

I have always loved kids.

I find kids to be honest and present and curious in a way that we often seem to lose in becoming adults.

We start telling little stories to make ourselves feel safe, or we become distracted by responsibilities or our phones, and we *for some wild reason that I have YET to figure out* start thinking that we know everything and that there's nothing else to learn about the world, the people around us, nature, or ourselves.

Like, I too often want to scream and fall onto the floor in the middle of the grocery when I can't find what I'm looking for. Instead, I take some big deep breaths and usually tell the person who asks "did you find everything you were looking for?" "Yep. I sure did." Lies. Because I don't want to tell them "no I didn't and it nearly sent me." Because that feels embarrassing.

I'm in Colorado this week visiting my niece who is my favorite person. In the car on our way to do something new, she said,

"I feel like I have rocks in my tummy."

She's three y'all.

To have that kind of awareness of her body is something I can only aspire to.

To have that kind of access to, what feels like to me but obviously not for her, vulnerability to share that with me was beautiful. So honest. Just... true. No other bullshit.

And what I'm here to tell you about processing your feelings and learning about who you are and what you like and what you want to do with this one precious wild life of yours is doing exactly what we did in the car together:

First: describe what you feel in your body.

Then: curiosity. 

We talked about how the rocks felt. How many there were. Were they big rocks or small rocks? Were they heavy and hard to carry? Or did they feel light and easy? What color were they?

And then I asked her how the rocks felt about doing the new thing we were about to be doing... 

The rocks felt scared.

That. Makes. Sense.

To feel scared of trying something new? Yeah. Absolutely.

Then we talked about some other things that used to feel scary and new that she likes now. To give her a little proof that she can do scary things. 

Because of the rocks in her tummy, we decided to just watch the first class. We noticed there were other kids that she knew, activities she's done before, in a place that she knows. 

I don't know how it will go the next time she goes... but the first time went honestly. She showed up. We met her where she was at: full of rocks in her tummy. And can you imagine doing a somersault with 3 big heavy rocks in your tummy? Me either.

How you feel makes sense.

What you choose to do with it next is up to you. What's gonna be your next step?

Are you going to share it with someone else or are you going to deal with it on your own?**

** I was going to write, "suffer through it alone" in a attempt to encourage you to share yourself with others. But it's not always a bad thing to process your feelings on your own - AND, it's not always the right thing - use your discernment. Sharing how you feel with people who love you is part of letting people in and creating intimacy and community. You don't deserve to suffer alone. If it feels like suffering to keep it in, let that be your answer to not hold it all alone.

And I'll also throw this in here in case you're doing some wishful thinking about maybe if you just ignore your feelings they'll go away? Sorry. It doesn't work like that. They'll keep showing up, maybe in a new way, about something new, but they'll keep coming. It's part of your nature. It's part of how we navigate the world and stay alive and not get eaten by lions and tigers and bears, oh my.

There's nothing wrong with you and I am really glad you're here and I think you're doing great.

xoxo,

k