I have been longing to send this week’s newsletter but only just got my voice back from the grips of a throat infection, apologies. Here it is, recorded in my cabin in Denmark where the tinny echoes of the local ice cream truck can be heard against the downpour of rain…ah, summer in the Nordics.
In this week's conversation, we delve into the precipice of our growth—the silent scream of "no" that arises just before a profound transformation. I recount a recent, personal tale of an overwhelming experience during a long-haul flight. Instead of reaching for the usual remedies for overwhelm, I propose a deeper inquiry: exploring the very cradle of our discomfort, rooted in the narrow confines of our perceived selves. Join me as we challenge and expand these boundaries together.
I hope my own journey might inspire you to soften around your contractions, allowing yourself to become the space and not the substance of what aches you.
Every anxiety, every depression, every moment of dissatisfaction rises and falls within a space that fundamentally allows it to exist. Without that space, nothing, not even mental phenomena can exist. The question is whether we can dance in that space, giving it our primary attention rather than folding our whole self into the substance of suffering.
I hope you enjoy listening to this in your own time, in your own space, and with your own company, for there is none better.
Much Love,
Transcript
I walk into the squall where two oceans meet. There’s a steep headland where the cliff’s edge juts out as proudly as a ship’s stern, its white chalk belly blinding against the sun. The wind gusts over the peak and across the grass in streams of glossy currents.
