I’m in the process of building the first Embodiment with Sarah website (yay!).
Watching it come together has been very cool. And it’s also reminded me that websites can be… fiddly.
Before I started my own business I spent years working in communications. I have a marketing qualification. I’ve managed websites, social media channels and newsletters for multiple organisations, using various different platforms. I’ve learned new software over and over again and even put together training guides for other team members about them.
This experience is why I know that with all new platforms a learning curve is to be expected and when I come up against challenges it’s not about me.
What do I mean by that?
Well, if this were the first time I had ever worked on a website, I might be inclined to make some of the more awkward or frustrating parts mean something about me as a person.
“It’s taking so long to pull this page together, I must be really bad at this.”
“I’ve made that mistake three times now, I’m just not good at working with technology.”
“Why can’t I figure this bit out? What’s wrong with me?”
Yes, my inner dialogue can be rather dramatic.
Making it about me would turn the whole process of building the website into an emotional rollercoaster. The natural challenges of figuring out new processes would feel like a personal attack on my capability as a human. The speed with which I was able to build a webpage would feel like a prediction about the future success of my business. It’s possible that my inner criticism would get so strong that I’d give up altogether.
Fortunately, my years of experience in this field has helped me to learn that it really isn’t about me at all! I know that challenges and frustrating moments are all part of the process, and that if I just slow down, take breaks when I need to, ask for help when I’m not sure, and keep trying, eventually using the platform will feel like second-nature.
And this realisation made me think about all the other areas of my life where I do make it about myself.
For years I put off driving because I had convinced myself that I was a terrible driver. Once I finally started driving again I viewed all of my mistakes as evidence that I just shouldn’t be on the roads (even the teeny, tiny ones), and took every piece of road rage from other drivers incredibly personally. My driving massively improved once I finally stopped making it about myself and just focused on building my skills.
When I moved abroad at 21, for the first three months I took things very personally. I saw my loneliness as a personal failing. I saw the challenges I was having in my housing as a sign that my year abroad was a disaster - and therefore I was missing out on the perfection I imagined everyone else was having. I thought my struggles with the language were a problem I had to solve overnight. No wonder I was finding it so hard with all of that self criticism going on! Unsurprisingly once I let go of all of that, and just decided to enjoy the life that was right in front of me, everything started to flow with ease.
Dating is an area of my life where I’m still working on unravelling the “me, me, me” story that I’ve created around neutral circumstances. I’ve labelled myself as “bad at relationships” so often and it usually leads to me turning fairly neutral or inconsequential situations into full blown predictions about my future. Put your hand up if you’ve ever returned from a ‘meh’ date convinced that this 100% means that you’ll never be in a happy relationship again. 🙋🏻
What does all of this have to do with embodiment?
Our tendency to personalise events in the external world is dependent on our minds.
While we experience the reaction we have to these stories in our bodies, the mind is the place where we first create the stories.
This isn’t an inherently bad thing. The stories we create about ourselves can provide fuel and motivation. It can strengthen our connection to our community and family. It can deepen our understanding of who we are in the world. The problem comes when a story which limits us, and is in direct opposition to what we desire to create, is allowed to run unquestioned. This is what turns life into an uphill battle.
When we learn how to live life from our bodies we are able to step out of this mind based interpretation of life and come into direct contact with our experience.This interrupts the story making and allows us to become one with the events that are happening around us. We get to respond to events with what is required of us, rather than with what our limited sense of self believes we are capable of.
This is what “flow state” really is - sometimes known as being “in the zone”.
When we are “in the zone” we’re completely focused on the task at hand, and undistracted by thoughts about ourselves, our performance or what might happen next. We’re in the present moment, and meeting challenges as they arise with all of our attention. It’s the state that we often entered as children when we were completely wrapped up in our play.
Flow state is usually very enjoyable and beneficial to our wellbeing.
Whilst becoming more embodied doesn’t mean that every single task is going to feel wonderful, it does teach us how to step out of the story making which turns every life challenge into a personal identity. And this in turn relieves so much of the emotional turmoil we put ourselves through unnecessarily.
We get to just live.
We get to do the hard thing and not make a big deal out of it, because really none of it is personal.
It really isn’t about you. Or me. Or any of us.
It’s just happening.
Breathe.
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