What Do I Teach To Others That I Struggle To Live Myself?

What happens when the wisdom we share with others doesn’t quite match what we live ourselves? In this episode of "My Inner Knowing," host Theresa Hubbard guides you into a gentle pause—a space where you don’t need to listen closely or take notes, but simply notice what arises within as you listen.
This episode isn’t about fixing or resolving; it’s about sitting with an open question: What do I teach to others that I struggle to live myself?
If you’re ready for a fresh approach to self-inquiry that honors learning as a winding path—not a straight line—tune in. Each episode of "My Inner Knowing" is crafted to help you trust your own wisdom just a little more, guiding you not only to insight, but to the grace of patience as you grow.
Listen, reflect, and notice what stays with you. That’s enough—for now.

Transcript

Welcome. Before we begin, Let's slow down. You don't need to follow closely. You don't need to understand anything that's said. There's nothing here to solve. Just notice what happens inside as you listen. Where does your attention go? Where does it drift to? You might feel curiosity. You might feel resistance. Or you might notice nothing at all. All of that is okay. We're going to begin with a question, And we're going to let it stay open. How do I stay present when I cannot change what's happening? How do I stay present when I cannot change what's happening? Not when I know what to do. Not when there is a clear solution. But when there isn't one. When something is unfolding and my ability to influence it has ended. How do I stay there? I want to stay with a moment for just a while. Not to explain it, Not to analyze it. Just to stay with it. I remember sitting with someone who was struggling. They were describing something painful in their life. A situation they were living through. As I spoke, I noticed something happening in my body. A kind of internal movement. A pull toward action. Part of me began searching for something helpful to say. A perspective, A suggestion. Something that might make the situation easier for them. But as the conversation continued, Something became clear. There wasn't anything to fix. The situation they were describing was real, And it was complicated. No single sentence would change it. No insight would resolve it. I felt my body react to that realization. A tightening and a subtle restlessness. The urge to do something even though nothing needed to be done. So I sat there, Listening, And noticing. How uncomfortable it was to remain present without solving anything. Many of us are taught to respond to difficulty by changing it. Solving it. Improving it. Moving it toward resolution. And that instinct can be helpful. But there are moments in life where change isn't immediately available. Moments where the situation simply exists. And when those moments appear, Something interesting often happens in the body. The nervous system begins searching for movement, For control, For direction. Because uncertainty can feel deeply uncomfortable. Not knowing what will happen next. Not knowing how things will resolve. And perhaps even more uncomfortable, Not being able to change what is happening right now. In those moments, The urge to act can become very strong. To fix something, Explain something, Reassure someone. Not always because action is needed, But because stillness can feel like powerlessness. I have three observations about this, And I'll read each one of them twice. The urge to fix something often comes from discomfort with uncertainty. I'll say it again. The urge to fix something often comes from discomfort with uncertainty. Powerlessness is not always the absence of care. Sometimes it is simply the reality of a moment we cannot control. I'll say it again. Powerlessness is not always the absence of care. Sometimes it is simply the reality of a moment we cannot control. Presence is often most difficult precisely when it is most needed. I'll say it again. Presence is often most difficult precisely when it is most needed. So I want to bring the question back to you. How do you stay present when you cannot change what's happening? When someone you care about is struggling and there is no clear solution? Or when the situation is unfolding and the outcome is uncertain? What happens inside your body in those moments? Do you feel the urge to move quickly? Toward action? Toward reassurance? Toward explanation? Or can you stay there long enough to notice what the moment is asking of you? This question doesn't resolve quickly. Some moments in life cannot be fixed right away. Situations unfold in their own time. And sometimes the most honest response available to us is simply presence. You don't need to decide anything right now. You don't need to solve anything. Just notice what came up for you as you listened. Or what didn't. That's enough for today. You can stay present. You can return to the question another time. Thank you for joining me today.