Embracing Our True Essence Like Waves in the Ocean

Over the past several nights, I've found myself grappling with unusual levels of anxiety. Typically, I'm a sound sleeper who drifts off after a demanding day by listening to my favorite Michael Sealey hypnosis recordings – those who are familiar with them understand their magic. I usually wake up fe

Over the past several nights, I've found myself grappling with unusual levels of anxiety. Typically, I'm a sound sleeper who drifts off after a demanding day by listening to my favorite Michael Sealey hypnosis recordings – those who are familiar with them understand their magic. I usually wake up feeling revitalized and full of energy. However, in recent times, it's as if my mind is that stubborn gadget you believe you've powered down, yet it stubbornly reactivates itself without warning.

The weight of current events in the everyday world has been weighing heavily on my thoughts. Compounding this, I'm navigating through personal grief and emotional pain from recent losses. Interestingly, I've noticed a surge in my YouTube consumption: podcasts delving into British Tudor history have become my go-to for calming my rattled nerves while I handle work-from-home tasks. I tune into the Rest Is History podcast throughout my day, immersing myself in tales of distant eras. There's a peculiar solace in realizing that the grand conflicts, crises, and sorrows from centuries past have all faded into history – truly, as the saying goes, the more things evolve, the more they remain unchanged.

Yet, there's a limit to how long one can evade the present reality before it demands attention.

For me, confronting it means turning to writing. More precisely, this involves penning letters to my higher power or engaging in unstructured, free-flowing journal entries.

I've relied on this form of spiritual writing for years to reconnect with my inner self and foster a dialogue with the divine. Lately, though, I've encountered a stubborn creative block.

It's as though I resist the urge to feel, express, or contemplate deeply. Instead, I crave nothing more than emotional numbness.

I suspect I've been drifting away from my faith. It demands real bravery to confront harsh realities during challenging periods.

That said, as someone deeply committed to a spiritual journey, last night amid my restless tossing and turning, I recognized exactly what was needed: to grasp the pen and begin writing.

As a hypnotherapist with training in neuroscience-based techniques, I'm well aware that the simple act of handwriting physically alters brain pathways. Through this practice, you can literally script your way into transformed realities, reshape ingrained habits, and navigate through intense emotions. The tangible process of writing forges fresh neural connections, sparking profound shifts.

As I poured my thoughts onto the page last night, revelations emerged: I uncovered feelings of fear, profound loneliness, worry, and a sense of utter powerlessness. Yet, in the same flow, I rediscovered that I am enveloped in love, harbor genuine hope, and can cultivate deep gratitude for the beauty woven throughout my existence.

As I scribbled deeper into the night, the emotional blockage dissolved. Barriers gave way, floodgates swung open, and glimmers of light pierced through the enveloping darkness. This breakthrough required me to be raw, honest, and fully present with my inner world to initiate such powerful momentum.

I awoke with a renewed sense of willingness and openness.

That morning, I absorbed a profound Dharma talk by Thich Nhat Hanh on the theme of Resting in God. He wove in numerous poetic metaphors, but the one that resonated most powerfully with me centered on the imagery of the wave.

When life's relentless fluctuations disturb us, we resemble waves caught in turbulent motion – buffeted by chaos, upheaval, and relentless drama. However, with moments of intentional reflection, we recognize that each wave is intrinsically connected to the vast ocean. By carving out time to sit quietly, focus on your breath, and contemplate, you can release the grip of being perpetually storm-tossed and surrender into your authentic, boundless nature of peace. Just as the wave forms an inseparable part of the ocean, we too are integral expressions of the greater universal consciousness.

Regardless of your chosen spiritual discipline – or even if you follow none at all – you possess the capacity to pause, sit, and breathe mindfully. I assure you, it's within reach. And in those moments, hold this truth close: the wave is eternally one with the ocean.