There's a thought from the psychologist Rollo May that I keep coming back to.
He said that when feeling becomes too much to carry,
We don't stop caring.
We withdraw the feeling.
We put it somewhere we can't breach it,
So it can't reach us.
Now what I take that to mean is that feeling numb or feeling nothing isn't a sign that something in you has died.
It's probably a sign that something in you was trying to keep you safe.
Hey,
I'm Chibs Okereke.
And welcome to the Mindful Striver.
Now if you're anything like me,
You might know this one from the inside.
Days where you do everything right and feel almost nothing about any of it.
Where something good happens and you notice you're waiting to feel pleased and the feeling doesn't arrive.
Today,
We're going to sit with that flatness for a few minutes.
Without trying to fix it.
So settling into wherever you are.
Allowing the eyes to close if that feels alright.
Or allowing the gaze to soften with the eyes gently open.
We're not going to count the breath today.
No rhythm to get right.
Nothing to measure.
Because if you'd spent years having everything you do assessed,
The last thing you need from me is one more thing to score.
So we're just gonna let the breath happen.
And watch the breath the way we'd watch clouds floating by.
Breathing in.
However it comes.
And breathing out.
And now bringing our attention to where the body is being held.
Noticing the places where we meet something solid.
The chair under the backs of the legs.
The floor under the feet.
Maybe the weight of a hand resting on a thigh.
Nothing to feel about any of it.
Just contact.
Pressure.
Temperature.
The body doesn't need us to have an emotion about it to be here.
So staying with that steadiness.
I'd like us to turn toward the flatness itself.
We're just gonna find out where it lives.
And we're gonna leave it exactly as it is.
Seeing if there's a place in the body where the numbness sits.
For some of us,
It's behind the eyes.
Kind of dullness there.
And for some it's a grey weight in the middle of the chest.
For others,
It's more like distance.
As though everything's happening one room away.
And if you have found this space.
We're not going to push at it.
We're going to do something a little different.
We're going to thank it.
Because whatever this flatness is,
It didn't turn up to ruin your life.
It turned up one day because something was more than you could carry at the time.
And it quietly turned down the volume so that you could keep on going.
You It's been doing that job for a long while now.
So,
Silently in your mind,
Or out loud if you're somewhere safe,
You might say to it,
I know why you're here.
Here's what I've come to think about the flatness.
Most of us know what it looks like when someone runs too hot and burns out.
Almost nobody talks about the other one.
The Going Quiet.
This going quiet tends to happen to people who've spent a long time trying to prove something.
Because when everything you do is a kind of test.
Nothing you do ever quite counts.
You get to the end.
And the finish line has moved again.
Do that for enough years.
And something sensible in you stops reaching.
Not because you stopped caring.
But because nothing you did ever came back to you.
And one more thing while we're here.
Somewhere in the last week or so.
Something will have got through.
It probably won't have been a lot.
A song,
Maybe.
A smell from somewhere.
A bit of weather.
Someone's face.
Something that landed for a second.
Before everything went flat again.
Just seeing now,
If anything comes.
And if nothing does.
.
.
That's okay.
He isn't a verdict on you.
But if something did.
.
.
It's worth noticing that it got through at all.
It isn't much to go on.
That it isn't nothing either.
So,
Something you might want to try today.
One thing that isn't a test.
Three minutes.
And nobody scores it.
Not a thing you'll get better at,
Not a thing that goes on a list.
But standing outside for a minute.
With the phone left indoors.
Listening to a song.
All the way through.
Doing nothing else while it plays.
Sitting in the car for three minutes before you go in.
You're not doing it to get better at anything.
You're doing it because not everything in a day should have to count for something.
And as this practice comes to an end.
Feel free to gently open the eyes and come back to the room.
And allowing the eyes to take in whatever's actually in front of you.
Feeling the feet on the floor and feeling the hands wherever they are.
Now don't expect much of yourself for the rest of today.
A little flicker.
Is plenty.
Thanks for joining me.
I'm Chibs O'Carrick.
And I'll see you next time at the Mindful Striver.
