Recently, I found myself in a deeply upsetting situation—a conundrum of intense emotions, where hurt and anger swirled like the center of a violent storm. I was aware of what was happening, though that didn’t make it any easier. Sometimes I was able to observe without attaching to the emotion; other times, I was simply grateful to feel so deeply. Regardless, the experience was far from comfortable.
To release these feelings, I turned to many practices: long walks with music and tears, allowing my body to process through movement and sound. Crying, after all, is one of the body’s natural ways to release intense emotions—like a pressure cooker letting off steam. Dance (especially cardio) and yoga were also essential tools. But the most powerful release of all was prayer.
Not the kind of prayer that asks or pleads—but the kind rooted in gratitude and grace (no pun intended). I thanked the Universe over and over for holding me, for surrounding me with compassion and love, and for offering its quiet grace as the storm slowly passed—like a salvation buoy keeping me afloat in emotional seas. Because, as we know, all storms are temporary. What can linger, however, are the residual thoughts, actions, or words that arise from that murky inner state.
This process wasn’t quick or easy—in a world that craves fast fixes, this kind of emotional unraveling takes time. My most powerful prayer during it all was a return to my higher Self. That calm, beautiful state of being that resides in each of us. It’s always there—always available—if we can quiet the noise enough to remember.
In the heart of that emotional cluster—yes, let’s call it a clusterfuck—I realized that my true desire wasn’t revenge or retaliation. It was to not act from a place of pain. To not give in to the seductive pull of reactive thoughts that would only cause more harm—especially to myself. Because when I act out of alignment with my higher Self, I’m the one who suffers most.
And I believe that’s true for all of us. When we betray our higher Self, the pain always circles back.
This is the practice of mindfulness. The strength of awareness. It’s not perfect. I’m not perfect. My closest family members still sometimes feel the fallout of my emotional weather. But I keep practicing. I keep returning. And each time I do, I get a little closer to peace.
Affirmation:
Even in the storm, I choose to return to the calm within me.
Invitation to You:
The next time you find yourself in emotional turmoil, take a moment to pause. Let your body release what it needs to. Let your soul connect to something higher. And remember—you are not your pain. You are the awareness behind it. That awareness is your strength.