I’m back in the ReStory Lab.

This moment feels different.

I don’t have a map this time. I don’t even have a destination. I’m simply trying to stay present long enough to discover what wants to emerge.

I don’t know what to expect. 

By showing up in this way, I have willingly relinquished some measure of my usual control, the kind of control that can keep me from fully inhabiting my life.

Immediately realizing this, my psyche asks for consent. 

Will you consciously choose this? Will you really go there? 

As I drop further into my body, I feel both excitement and fear. 

The explorer and the intellectual in me are excited by the process of discovery and the deeper understanding that might emerge.

However, my fearful child is afraid that I will abandon her when she most needs me. If she says yes, will she suffer? She wants assurances.

I know I can’t honestly answer yes until I know I mean it.

What will allow me to truly mean it?

The answer isn’t certainty.

How can I create enough safety for every part of me to feel seen and heard?

I can’t predict what will happen.

But I can promise this:

I will listen to her concerns.

I will take her suffering seriously.

I will stay with her.

And then another voice appears:

“You have said this before. Why should I believe you now?”

What I can do is practice staying.

Over time, my consistent presence can begin to rebuild trust.

I can be inclusive. Instead of always privileging my mind, I can practice including my body, taking my feelings and perceptions seriously and responding to them with care. Not all parts will always agree, but I will listen to them all. 

This feels like a sacred moment…

being willing to meet myself in this moment in my fullness.

What would it take for every part of me to give a wholehearted yes?

What would it take for every part of you to give a wholehearted yes?