Water Journeys: Releasing with Love

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My "not fine" showed up on an ordinary day when my hair stylist asked how I was doing, and I suddenly began to sob. Not cry, but that wrenching sob that comes from your deep down core.

Another time, it showed up just before I was to meet friends. After an hour of travel, just ten minutes before arriving, I retraced my steps home. I had suddenly realized I simply didn’t have it in me to pretend anymore. I could not fake being okay.

On the surface, I smiled. I existed, I worked with purpose. I looked fine. But emotionally, I was quietly treading water. I was sinking deeper into a self-imposed isolation without even realizing I was in trouble. When family and friends reached out, I loved them for it. I was so grateful to be seen … but I couldn't find the energy to respond. 

By that time, I was mostly underwater.

As author Christopher Ruocchio wrote:

"Sad is like a big ocean, and you can't breathe deep down. You can float on it, you can swim a little, but be careful. Grief is drowning. Grief is deep water."

Photo by Li Yang on Unsplash

Looking back, the emotional undertow started a while ago. This past Winter brought a heavy wave of family passings, relationship challenges, and deep personal losses. These are quiet griefs shared by so many of us at this age or really, at any age: the loss of family or friends, the aging and passing of parents, a lack of purpose, global grief and the painful realization that long-held life goals may not materialize.

These personal griefs quietly bubbled into the spring. They were layered over professional challenges and the unrelenting weight of global tragedies ~ the headlines of senseless wars, climate change catastrophes, and systemic misogyny that I literally could not (and still can’t) make sense of.

The combined pain, frustration, and sadness slowly, invisibly wore me down. The feelings arose from both old and new wounds, arriving like a tornado you are clearly unprepared for and can feel things already flying and crashing around you. In true high-performer style, I just kept adding the small hurts and slights of daily life to the feelings I was already carrying.

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The 11-Year-Old Protector

The isolation allowed me to feed an old, quiet belief: Life is hard, you are entirely on your own, and there is no one to help.

As a professional coach, part of me could see exactly what I was doing. I knew I was feeding a young part of myself, feeding a coping strategy and a perspective that was de-stabilizing rather than nourishing.

But knowing better didn't mean I could stop.

This way of being was a well-worn path for me; I have perfected it since I was 11 years old. Back then, bearing pain in stoic, absolute silence was a matter of survival. I couldn't tell anyone what was happening because I genuinely believed the threat that I would be killed if I spoke up. I learned very early that most people don’t look too closely, don’t see the bruises, and don’t ask questions when something feels wrong. This was the trauma … not the event (which was abuse) but rather the fact that I didn’t think there was anyone safe enough to tell.

Photo by Vitalii Khodzinskyi on Unsplash 

Our traumas can be held inside of us for years. Decades. Our deeply held beliefs and coping strategies always come from somewhere. 

As a young girl, probably like many others, I learned that my survival depended solely on me. Thinking back, I never saw anyone in my family bring friends home. And so yes, years of what I saw in my environment and also had to cultivate to survive the abuse … isolation and silence … rewires a person. The concepts of deep, strong friendships and taking care of yourself are not strongly rooted in me. I never saw it modelled. I now understand why the first thing I let go of when I am in crisis is friends and the second thing is me. Sometimes, I switch the order and sometimes, I do both. I wish there was a warning … please don’t try this at home.

Lifelines 

While it felt like I was swimming farther and farther from my shore than ever before, a number of distinct things ultimately saved me from being sucked out into the vast emptiness of what I was unwittingly going towards.

Sacred Work

First, it was my work and the profound relationships I share with my clients, coaching and otherwise. To me, my clients and work are sacred. There was no option for me to "dial it in" or give less than my full presence. (I do have to admit that my administration and follow-up tasks became a little hit and miss). Focusing entirely on the success, wellbeing, and forward momentum of others shored up my own spirit. However, it also gave me a clear mirror: as my clients' wellbeing rose, I could clearly see my own internal trend line going south. 

The Truth Does Set You Free

I realized I had nothing left to lose. At this point, I no longer had the energy to pretend … I only had enough to speak my truth. And in doing this, it allowed me to connect to what I believe, what I value and to stand up for who I am. To understand that ultimately, the only truth I was responsible for, was mine.

A Safe Space 

Second, my husband, Jeff. As I navigated these dark, heavy waters, he gave me the vital space to practice being radically truthful about how I felt and what I actually needed. He managed to stay on high, stable ground. It wasn’t easy for him as he had been/was doing his own version of this swim. He didn’t panic or jump into the water with me; instead, he stood strong in the uncertainty of me, of us and modelled what it looks like when someone is holding their value. He tried to show me that I was loved and that my presence mattered. Most importantly, as we traded hard truths, I realized my responsibility wasn't to manage his emotions or "take care" of him … it was simply to be clear about and articulate my own needs.

The Energy of Beauty 

I think we underestimate the impact of beauty on our spirit. Beauty can be so many things: the ocean, colours, dogs, art, clothing, writing, music, poetry, coffee, people (babies), pottery, cats, sunshine, good food … you name it, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I am lucky to find many, many things and people beautiful. As spring blossomed, as the world came out to enjoy it, it helped me come out as well. 

Accessing Expertise

I was lucky enough to know when it was time for me to talk to my doctor. That perhaps, at this point in time, I needed more resources than I could provide to myself. 

Listening to my Body

My body can not lie. It has been much too tolerant of my poor choices but when I really listen and pay attention, my breath and my sensations always tell me what I don't necessarily want to know or believe. Getting out of my head and choosing physical movement and practising breathing that supports my strength and wellbeing has been essential.

With these conscious and unconscious supports, my journey slowly began to shift. The heavy isolation transformed from a habit of self-protection into a necessary, quiet solitude. It became a space where I could finally process the feelings and forge them into personal agency. Personal choice.

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The Gift of Releasing and Blessing

I began to see this entire experience as an opportunity to embrace my feelings rather than resist them. I needed to let go of old, powerless behaviours and consciously choose myself.

I began to accept that I can love people and experiences deeply and still find myself disappointed or hurt. I realized that stepping back from relationships, an old, old pattern, is never the best answer for me. That being purposeful and clear about what I need is actually the most helpful thing for everyone involved. That the way forward was to keep practising being me.

I realized how much time I had wasted as a woman trying to be something other than myself. As Arlene Dickinson noted, “much of what women are sold runs on shame … you’re too much, you’re not enough, you’re aging wrong.”

And as with all moments of synchronicity and magic, I came across Danielle LaPorte’s book, “Bless and Release” at this time and realized the value of these beautiful words. Release. Bless.

Each requires courage. To release requires the willingness to let go of what is no longer in alignment with who you are.To bless is to invoke genuine care. To love. Doing both at the same time can feel completely impossible on the dark days. 

So I am practising blessing myself. Blessing others. Much harder for me is to practice letting people and experiences go, AND to do so with love. Releasing is hard. Releasing with love can feel impossible.

Yet, I think this is where the gold lies. This is what coming home means. I am beginning to feel more like myself again. If you haven’t heard from me, I love you but I’ve been doing a little heavy lifting. If you haven’t heard from me for years, chances are high, I love and miss you. It’s how I am built. It’s how I roll. I love until proven otherwise.

I am sharing this personal passage because I know many of you, personally or professionally, have recently experienced or are currently experiencing challenging times … and doing your own recalibration, reflection and transformation. In listening to my clients, I know I am not the only one who goes inside, goes quiet, and invisibly drifts away when life gets hard. Maybe your drift is into yourself, maybe into your work, maybe into something else. So many of us are trying to cope using our own unique, deeply ingrained protections. Sometimes our protections serve us and sometimes they don’t.  

I am also sharing this from a career, work and leadership perspective. The work world does not necessarily want to know you have physically or emotionally faltered or are faltering. Past or current faltering means uncertainty. Uncertainty creates risk. Managing risk usually requires attention or money, usually both. 

I would offer this as the cost of doing business. Machines and humans may break down. What if this was accepted as an inevitability and factored into performance models versus being treated as a risk that needs to be ignored, avoided and eliminated? What if workplace funding and policies were in place to proactively and more easily support mental and physical wellbeing. To identify faltering before it becomes a break down. Some organizations excel at this. Many, not so much. Because as a person and as a leader, we lead others, only as well as we lead ourselves.

We all know that life and ‘stuff’ can arrive slowly or instantaneously. Stuff will arrive when it does and you may think ‘but I’m not ready to deal with this’ … only to find that you often are. Ready to be in the discomfort of it all. You managed to avoid it but now that you have to face ‘it’, you will not only get through it but emerge from it, clearer and stronger than before. I promise.

Lastly, I am sharing this, for myself. So I can bless this time in my life, be grateful for what I learned from it and let it go. So I can go play in the sun. Splash in the water. Feel lightness again. Build my resilience for returning to whatever ‘normal’ means to me. Or maybe, understanding that it’s time to create my new ‘normal'.

As Brené Brown beautifully puts it:

“I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.”

It is only by being fully present with ourselves and each other that we can finally find our way home. 

Tell someone how you are. Let yourself out. Let them in. Maybe it's the only way to avoid drowning in it all. 

Photo by Dibakar Roy on Unsplash 

Are you ‘home’ right now, or are you drifting away? How are you owning your story and loving yourself through it?

Just remember … and I love, love, love this distinction: 

"You are not the wound. You are the healer." — Danielle LaPorte

About Maria and Change-Work

Maria Malmgren, founder of Change-Work, is a coach based in British Columbia, Canada who supports leaders, teams, boards and organizations to develop capacity, so they can fulfill their purpose with clarity, courage, and connection in complex systems.

"Whenever you feel uncomfortable, instead of retreating ... pat yourself on the back and say, 'I must be growing,' and continue moving forward." — T. Harv Eker

If this resonates, you’re already doing the work.

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