Last night at 8 pm, I found myself in a virtual Zoom room with sixty or so women all there to attend a weekly mindfulness mentorship led by a well-credentialed Registered Dietician, 200+ hour Yoga Teacher, “influencer,” and fellow Substacker
, whom I’ve followed on Instagram for a few years now. She has the kind of bubbly, beautiful spirit that naturally exudes through the small screen of an iPhone. When she dropped the details on this month-long exploration of mindfulness, mentorship, and yoga, I knew almost instantly that it was an offering I aligned with.I’m in a profession where walking the talk is status quo. In order to show up for myself and my clients, I need to do some internal exploration. I coach clients to help them manage their mental health and well-being through nervous system regulation, diaphragmatic breathing, mindfulness, cognitive-behavioral skills, and lots of self-compassion. Infusing all my knowledge from coaching certification programs and my studies in Spirituality and Mind-Body connection from my Master’s in Psychology, I show up wholeheartedly and ready to meet my clients where they are and support them as they move towards their goals. I truly do consider it an honor to sit across from someone (albeit via screens) and listen to what their life looks like now– the joyful moments and the struggles– and make space to help them move through life with a little more ease. The small wins we celebrate add up, and overtime shifts take place, ultimately allowing for alignment.
Lately, I’ve been doing an early spiritual spring cleaning, taking inventory of my actions and behaviors to notice what’s aligning for me and what can metaphorically be thrown into the donation pile. As a wellness coach, I can effortlessly sit with others, notice what isn’t serving them, and carefully coax them to come to their own conclusions about this. When it comes to myself, however, there’s always the strong internal bias of my comfort zone clouding my judgment and motivation for change. The one thing I know to be true about humans is that we love getting in our own way, whether we realize it or not.
In last night’s class, after a round of alternate nostril breathing and a dose of mindfulness meditation, we were given a list of journal prompts to reflect on. The one I chose was buried in the middle of the list: “What does presence mean to you?” I scribbled down a response that felt right in the moment. Presence = showing up as my fullest, most authentic self. Easy enough, I thought.
Another question followed the prompt, “Are there any parts of you that are afraid to feel present?” I felt my teeth dig into my cheek as I pondered my response. Being genuinely present requires letting go of worry and the false sense of control that comes along with it.
“Oof,” said my inner monologue. Anxiety has always been a crutch for me, a protective way to cope with uncertainty. Living in the future “what-ifs” steals me from the precious present moment. It’s impossible to be fully present with myself and others when my mind is concocting dozens of irrational scenarios of what may happen next. Through years of therapy, I’ve known this to be true, but for some reason, it clicked differently when I connected the dots on my own (similar to what I see with my clients). As much as I would love them to, for my own comfort, presence and anxiety cannot co-exist harmoniously. Presence requires the discomfort of letting my worries fade to the wayside, if only for a few seconds at a time.
So what now? When doing this type of inner work, we can overlook the fact that identifying our own patterns is the easy part. Taking action and making change is where growth really happens. I could think about this pattern for hours on end, chastising myself for being a human with anxiety, or I could sneak in micro-moments to find presence each day. This week, I’m trying the ladder.
Presence might look a little like:
Showing up for my clients, friends, and family with digital and mental tabs closed
Letting things be imperfect (a typo in a professional email is OK)
Taking a walk in a new place and noticing the signs of springs as they appear
Not overthinking that awkward 3-second interaction with a stranger
Jotting down small moments of joy as they surprise me each day
Building more mindfulness and presence into my everyday life is like lacing up my sneakers and going for a walk around the block. It’s not incredibly challenging, but it takes effort and commitment to do it. I can’t expect myself to run a 5k when I haven’t been training, so I’m not expecting daily, uninterrupted moments of presence to happen on their own. When walking the talk, do it one step at a time.
Now that I’ve shared, it’s your turn.
What does presence look like for you?
Have you had to “walk the talk” before?
How do you get in your own way?
xoxo
Nicole