Only the Lonely

If there is an emotion that feels truly hollow and hopeless,  in my experience, it has been loneliness.  It’s an ache that reaches for miles and miles and photoshops out any trace of perspective or existing motivation to grab hold of.

This is why, for me anyway, it’s necessary to stuff it, sweep it, and quickly look the other way before the bleakness of its stare can call my flimsy bluff.  The tears would be a storm.  The storm might never pass.   …Keep it together, Katie… the show must go on.

This is also why loneliness is currently proven a more dangerous health epidemic than obesity and smoking.  No joke. On the surface, it’s asymptomatic.  We can hide it famously.  Yet right beneath the surface its death grip is suffocating.  

Whereas I believe loneliness is not something to mess around with over time, I do believe--like anything--it can create spaces in life to dig deeper into an otherwise hidden ecosystem of awareness and insight.  

Curiously, loneliness became one of the most prolific teachers I’ve ever had.  Come to think of it, she used very few words, if any.  Just like most memorable teachers, she was a real hard ass at first.  Over time though, she softened.  

Today, if you sit in a scary room of loneliness, I want to reach you.  Not to fix you, Lord knows I can’t.  I want to simply say “I see you,” and perhaps in doing so, lessen the penetrating sting of that thick and clumsy needle.  I want to validate your pain, take it out of its dark and shadowy corner, and simply give it some breathing room.  Lonely shouldn’t bear the weight of such baggage.  Yes, she’s strong, but not that powerful.  

Plus, the felt pain of our emotions lifts a bit when we let some light in and talk about them.

My loneliness gave me a space to dig into the real, unseen meat of my needs and desires.  I hated and resisted her for so long, until I held that resistance up against the light.  Here are the most stunning realizations she gave me.

Loneliness is the human condition

I remember sitting in my therapists office one crisp February afternoon.  I was at the bottom of the bottom.  My anxiety was so deafening, I couldn’t separate out my words and thoughts from her loud yell.  She beat frantically on the drum of my chest without reprieve.  

I was anxious because of this pervasive sense of loneliness laced with depression I couldn’t escape from.  It doesn’t make much sense looking back now, but man did it feel like fact then.  It put me in the hospital, literally.  

My therapist, Gail, looked at me with her wise and nurturing eyes that day and said, “Katie, loneliness is the human condition.  It’s what we all have in common.”  

Whereas I wanted a pill or a promise, she gave me that weighty nugget.  I’ve carried it since.  
To know that my loneliness is not unique or special, and in fact, is a pre-requisite for being human felt like a heavy wave of relief.  

Your loneliness is part of what connects you to the frayed fabric of humanity.  It points you to reach out.

Lonely is different than being alone 

Some of the loneliest people I know are married, have a couple of kids, are well-connected in the community, or have big jobs.  I’ve got a friend who lives in New York City and tells me it can be the loneliest place in the world. 

Despite being surrounded by people, we can still be deeply lonely.  Solitude, even for all you extroverts out there, is a gift worth tearing open.  

It was during a thin people-season with little community and support that I was forced to befriend solitude.  Sure, it felt lonely, partly because I’d been so dependent on people to tell me who I was and what I should do and believe.  This unfamiliar place of open-ended quiet felt terrifying.  Ironically, this was the season I started to hear the sound of my own voice. 

We create out of silence.  We can only truly listen in the stillness.  This requires getting alone yet is different than loneliness.  Quiet passages of solitude invite the most valuable connection possible: you and you.  This is when we learn to belong to us.

The fear of loneliness is often rooted in shame

What I notice in seasons of loneliness, and yes, they still exist, is that I’m really grappling with the shame of inadequacy.  I’m afraid I’ll be rejected or misunderstood or simply won’t have what it takes.  This fear always leads me down the path of trying to fit in or people-please.  I’ve had to call BS on so many of my attempts at being liked instead of being true.  

This is when loneliness tells us we’re on the right path and we’re not merely masquerading.  I was reminded of this when I read Brene Brown’s Braving the Wilderness. 

Her research has proven that in order to truly belong we must often times stand alone and risk being highly vulnerable.  Courage and comfort are not synonymous.  

In order to belong, we must be willing to talk about, and in doing so, reveal those areas we are most shameful in to safe people.  

This process feels incredibly lonely.  Yet, it’s far better to take this risk and own our truth than to fake it on the surface and disconnect from self.  That’s an exhausting detour.

Being truly alive means getting dirty in the arena, not sitting all zipped up in the nose bleeds.

Does the shame of your loneliness, whether that looks like singleness, creative frustration, personal rejection, transition, or grief keep you hustling to keep it together or fit in?  

I can assure you, you are not alone.  

This may be a season to slow down, exhale, and lean in to hear what she’s trying to say.  She tells me I’m alive and on the right track more times than not.  She tells me to heed the resistance because pain typically signals opportunity.  She tells me I belong, if to no one else, to myself.  The most creative and courageous giants stood alone more times than not.  Oh, they got dirty alright.  

Yes, I see you.  Yes, I hear you.  Only the lonely days taught me to reach out and risk the comfort of what’s known for the beautiful mess of what’s to come.  I pray they do the same for you.

Love & Gratitude,

Katie

How to Find the Right Therapist

Today, we’re getting real practical.  Let’s be honest: therapy feels a bit odd, awkward, and down right uncomfortable in the first place. How in the world does one go about finding a therapist who will not only make the first wobbly steps somewhat bearable, but also turn out to be someone we actually like?  And yes, contrary to popular belief, you’re going to need to like your therapist in order to trust them, let alone experience growth and healing.  

I had this conversation with my therapist a few weeks back.  Whereas I don’t believe we’re always supposed to be “in therapy,” I’ve always valued the sacred space of therapy as a sounding board and a refiner’s fire so to speak.  In other words, no matter what season I’m in, I depend on my therapist to challenge me, call my BS (bullshit and blindspots), and serve as a loving mirror when the reflection I see is less than compelling.  

Whether you’re in a tight transition or a season of loss, it's imperative to reach out and find the help you need.  As someone who’s sat in therapy far longer as a client then a therapist, I relate to the struggle of finding the right fit.  It’s real.  Today, I want to unpack this process as much as possible.  You’ve already got enough on your plate. 

Prep-work

Before launching on your quest, there’s some necessary prep-work.  Often times, it can be the most difficult part of the process.  

The first step is always to get still, spend about 10-15 minutes alone, and ask yourself what it is you need from therapy.  This may seem obvious, but it’s not.  Oftentimes, we’re operating in crisis.  The survival strategies involved in crisis don’t provide much of a margin for eating, sleeping, let alone self-reflection.  It’s important to give yourself a small window of time and ask yourself a) what you need and b) what you want from therapy.  (Two different questions, mind you.) I find it easiest to write this pertinent information down in a journal or notebook.  This content will serve as somewhat of a roadmap for the journey ahead.  

Once you’ve taken the time to explore these questions, here are five helpful guidelines to follow: 

The Quest

1. Logistics- Let’s get the unsexy bit out of the way.  First things first, you need to get clear on practical parameters such as location, budget, male vs. female, type of therapy (individual/couples/family), availability, and whether or not they offer a sliding scale or the opportunity to use insurance.  These will steer the next several steps accordingly.  It’s worth noting that while some practitioners do accept insurance, some insurance policies only allow for a maximum number of sessions they will cover, making ongoing therapy an out-of-pocket expense.  Also, confidentiality can become an issue when therapists apply diagnostic codes for billing purposes.  Again, all good things to consider and inquire about based on your needs and privacy preferences.   For a helpful therapist directory that often provides answers to several of these basic questions, visit psychologytoday.com.

2. Referral- Ideally, finding referrals from those who know you personally is the best place to start, be it an existing physician, family member, pastor, or friend.  If possible, I always encourage people to start with their current sphere of influence when looking for therapist recommendations.  This is where I’ve always had the most luck. 

3. Style- Just like with dating, you’re not for everyone.  No matter how fabulous you are, you won’t be compatible with every attractive person you meet (*sigh). I tell people this up front in therapy all the time.  I can’t help everyone and am quick to practice transparency when I feel another therapist might be more equipped to support someone with specific needs I don’t feel qualified to meet.  Do you want a no-nonsense, direct approach in therapy or would you prefer a softer, more indirect style?  (Or something in between? ) Do you seek a therapist who is faith-based? Do you appreciate someone of a specific age? These qualifiers will hopefully show up in the prep-work listed above.  

4. Expertise- If you’ve done therapy before and know certain modalities or tools that work for you, it’s important to bring this insight into your search.  Interviewing a handful of possible therapists is important so as to understand their approach and expertise.  Do you want to explore the Enneagram in your work? Do you need a grief or addictions specialist? Do you prefer brain-based therapies such as EMDR or Brainspotting?  Do you like talk-therapy or more of an experiential technique?  Do you need group therapy in addition to individual and which therapists provide this?  

5. Consult-  Most therapist will offer a free 15-30 minute phone consult.  You’re about to invest time and resources into the therapeutic process.  It’s vital to understand a bit more about the experience, training, and approach to therapy they have.  I always encourage this as sometimes we just need an opportunity to suss it out in a quick conversation.  Email is a great starting point, however, I always like to get a feel for communication style and vibe on the phone.  Having as many of the prior steps filled out is bonus so as to be able to clearly ask as many questions as possible.  (Also worth noting, if you need to stay within a budget, therapists who are newer to the field or working towards licensure will often provide a sliding scale rate based on your income.)

And listen, often times this “pre-production” business is a luxury.  Therapy is often a last resort as we find ourselves amidst chaos, crisis, and loss.  In these times, simply taking the brave first step to start therapy with someone and trusting the process to unfold as it should is all we can do.  

P.S. As a helpful checklist, I’ve posted The Cheatsheet: A no-hassle guide to finding the right therapist on my website! 

Oh, P.S.S.  This goes without saying, but I’d LOVE to serve as a resource for you on your quest.  If you have questions for me, or need referrals, I’ve got some incredible ones for you.  Please reach out.

Love & Gratitude,
Katie 

When all else fails, try this.

Have you ever experienced days when no matter how hard you try, or how many tools you have in your proverbial emotional toolkit, or how much you know in that clever thinking mind of yours, you just want to stay curled up in the fetal position in a dark corner of some hidden room and simply cry?  

You’re inconsolable.  

The feelings of despair and powerlessness take on tsunami strength leaving you weak, weary, and barely breathing.  

I had one of those days recently.  It was awful.  

My dominant Enneagram type is four, the Individualist.  We’re known to have a pretty vibrant (read: intense bordering on dramatic) interior emotional landscape.  We’re also known to access the spectrum of that intensity at the drop of a hat.  That being said, I’ve been known to indulge my emotions, feasting on them like a marathon runner carb-loading before race day.  

Despite your Enneagram type, the goal is to grow in self-awareness with regards to those limiting adaptive personality programs (like my aforementioned emotionalism) that run the show and keep us stuck in our type structure so that we can evolve past these behaviors and fully thrive.  

In Enneagram circles, (or basically every coffee shop in Nashville), we hear the phrase, “become your true self” tossed around quite a bit.  I love this idea.  Enneagram fours are also known to have this mad concept crush on authenticity, depth, and meaning.  So the idea of “becoming your true self” is truly intoxicating.  

Back to that awful day.  (And I’m going to land this plane quickly.  Too many words will throw us off course here.)

What if, in the truest, deepest part of you, there’s this growling need to simply surrender to the primal force of what you’re feeling?  To be “all in” so to speak?  To not try and fix, figure it out, numb, or run like hell?  

What if, in order to fully and consciously show up each day, we hold a margin of space for the brokenness inside to be just that…broken?  Our feelings will not kill us.  They may feel impossible at times, but like a storm at sea, they eventually calm.

After all, on this journey of growth and integration, change is inevitable.  With every change, “good” and “bad,” we incur a loss.  Loss must be grieved.  Period.  It must be acknowledged, felt, and witnessed by someone safe.  Eventually, we’re able to release it and receive something new.  

Rilke said, “no feeling is final.”  Yet to be human is to feel. 

Emotion is the language of the heart and body and to live in silence is to ultimately die.  

And so, Dear One, know that when all else fails and the bleakness of winter doesn’t show visible signs of spring, cling to this truth from Julian of Norwich,

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” 

Speak this out when nothing else makes sense.   Hold it close, even if you don’t believe it.  I’ve been in that space, clung to those words, and can believe it for you.

The darkest night sets the stage for a breaking dawn.  Even the longest winter must give way to the rights of spring.  

Your birthright is to Bloom. 

Love & Gratitude,
Katie

Looking for Purpose? Start Here....

I'm a big advocate for the sacred process of finding your voice—and courageously learning to use it.

In my experience, slowly crossing the threshold of confidence into the land of self-compassion and acceptance gave me this newfound freedom and excitement to be heard and seen.

It’s kind of like waking up on Christmas morning as a kid, getting that one cherished toy you’d been asking for but thought your folks probably forgot…but then they came through. All you want to do is keep it close and show it off.  You love everyone, even your younger brother. The world is a beautiful place. You’re so proud and you can’t stop talking about it.

It may annoy people for a minute, and that’s okay, they’ll get over it…they love you too.

What I quickly learned is in order to truly find your voice and speak from that sacred heart space, you must first learn to listen really closely and often.

I love what Parker Palmer says in one of my all-time favorite books on finding your calling, Let Your Life Speak (a must read if you haven’t already…super short too).

He says, “Before I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life telling me who I am.” 

Sounds esoteric, right?  I actually think it’s us who overcomplicate things.

To create, we must get still and present. We must lean into the unknown. We must…listen.

Just as a flower grows and blooms from a tiny seed, you and I have everything we need to thrive locked safely inside us. Sure, we may need to nurture that part of us with inspiration and encouragement, but I assure you, it’s all in there.

As a species, humans are created to thrive and succeed, not to merely survive. Our creative imaginations are what set us apart from other species. Inside of you, there is a creative mechanism that is fully capable of getting you from merely existing to succeeding.

That’s right, you get to create the life you love.

What happens so often though, is that we get lazy, want to be told what to do, and as a result, autopilot through life. No wonder we wake up in our mid-thirties or forties with a serious purpose deficiency and a bad back in search of a pill or a promise that will make us feel alive again.  

We’ve not been listening. We’ve been busy, hustling, fitting in.

We all fall somewhere on this spectrum of finding our voice. Maybe you have recently unlocked this stunning, shiny voice of yours and you really like using it. The test drive is intoxicating. Or, perhaps you're  completely shut down, confusing everyone else’s demands and desires with your own. You’re exhausted and maybe even a bit resentful.  

Either way, the next best step is to slow down, take several very deep breaths, and simply listen. Feel your feet on the floor and your spine growing up from your seat. Notice the sensations inside your body; they’re talking alright. Give the tension a little time-out; you can pick her up in just a minute.

This is your true self. This is the space free of ego. This is where, with some practice, your life will speak to you in profound and sweet ways. This is the power of presence inside of you. It’s the magnificent Motherload. Let’s give it a listen.

Love & Gratitude,

Katie

xoxo 

Keep the Chocolate, Skip the Judgment.

Remember way back to that vaguely familiar feeling you had on New Year’s Day?  I know, it might take some focus.  For me, this feels like a year ago.  

How did you ring in 2019? Did you have high hopes in a New Year’s Resolution that felt shiny and hopeful?  Perhaps you wanted to start saving more money, lose some weight, or learn Italian.  Where are you with these resolutions today?  Have you managed to stick with them? Are you flirting with the idea of giving it another go? Or, like me, did you abandon them about three weeks in when boredom set in and you needed to shake things up again? (read: return to the old familiar ways).  

Guess what? Whatever your response—wherever you find yourself on the spectrum of personal goals and fulfillment is exactly where you’re meant to be, in my book at least.  Why? Because your journey is just that…yours.  

Tara Mohr says it beautifully, “Where we think we need more self-discipline, we usually need more self-love.”

Last Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, or the first day of Lent, a 40-day season in the traditional Catholic Liturgical calendar.  During this season, many people commit to a form of fasting or “giving up” something they normally tend to rely on or enjoy.  The usual suspects are sugar, alcohol, social media, swearing, or some form of junk food.  One year I gave up wine only to adopt a new found fascination with beer, which in turn jacked up my digestion and created a constant craving for all things salty.  This made me highly bloated and lasted only a week.  Also, I missed the point entirely…or did I?

Call me unspiritual, weak, or a lush.  Whatever. I can handle it.  What I can’t handle is the violent judgment we inflict on ourselves and our good intentions the minute we fall short of the, often fear-based, strict expectations we place on ourselves.  

Make no mistake, seasons of fasting or going without can be helpful. Though I am no poster child for this spiritual practice, I do believe it to be a powerful tradition that ultimately helps create greater balance and clarity in our lives.  However, finding yet another opportunity to lather up in the shame shower of “not enough” ultimately separates us from a higher, loving, spiritual pursuit.  

Now if I chose to give something up for Lent or other spiritual reasons, I make sure to check the motive and most importantly, the way I relate to myself in the process.  After all, these seasons are meant to create more connection with ourselves and Higher Power, not more distance.  

Whether you consider yourself spiritual or not, I’d like to invite you into a 40-day season of mindful awareness.  Basically, what you will be mindful of during this season is the self-judgment you have on a daily basis (and we all have it).  

Hear me out: I’m challenging you to be a neutral observer of your harsh inner critic not try to fix anything.  We all need discernment as we move through our days.  This is not the self-judgment I’m referring to.  

Perhaps your self-judgment is so engrained you don’t even notice it.  That’s okay.  The first step in any healing journey is always awareness.  So, our work is to wake up to the inner dialog and resulting treatment of ourselves on a daily basis.  

Not only will this improve our overall self-worth and emotional experience, it will transform your relationships with others.  Typically, if we practice heavy judgment towards ourselves, we do the same with others.  

To support this season of mindful-awareness and greater compassion, I’m leaving you with a short reflection from May Cause Miracles by Gabby Bernstein.  It’s meant to encourage you and remind you it’s not all up to you over the next 40-days.  Take a screen shot of it and read it aloud once or twice a day.  Then, allow yourself to simply sit with it for a minute or two.  

I surrender.  Today I turn over all the fearful projections that I have placed upon myself.  I release all self-doubt and attack today.  In this moment, I choose to let it all go.  I am willing to be guided to new projections.  I am willing to love myself again.  Inner Guide, please take the steering wheel and show me how to truly surrender my fear so I can wholeheartedly love myself again.  

So go ahead, keep your chocolate. I say we skip the judgement instead…

Love & Gratitude,
Katie