“When we rest first, we respond from a truer place.”
There was a time when I thought I had to hide from waves of emotion.
When feelings rose up — sadness, overwhelm, uncertainty — I believed the safest thing to do was to push them down, distract myself, or keep moving so I didn’t have to feel them fully.
But slowly, something shifted.
I began to notice that the more I resisted those emotional waves, the more disconnected I felt from myself. Tired. Tense. As though I was constantly bracing against something that wanted to be felt.
It was only when I stopped fighting those waves that reconnection began.
Like the sea, emotions come and go. Some are gentle, barely noticeable. Others rise suddenly, powerful and unpredictable. But none of them are wrong — and none of them are meant to be held back forever.
Standing by the water recently, watching how the light changed across the sea, I was reminded of something simple and important:
every day is different.
The tide shifts. The sky softens or darkens. The surface of the water is never quite the same twice. And yet, so often, we expect ourselves to stay fixed — to keep going at the same pace, regardless of what’s happening inside us.
What if reconnection isn’t about pushing through — but about learning when to rest, and when to respond?
For me, that’s where permission begins.
Permission to pause when my body is asking for rest.
Permission to move when that rest has been enough.
Permission to listen instead of forcing myself to stay the same from one moment to the next.
It’s learning that calm doesn’t come from avoidance.
It comes from allowing.
Reconnection isn’t about fixing how you feel. It’s about letting yourself feel — without abandoning yourself in the process.
When we allow emotions to move through us — without judgement, without urgency to change them — something gentle happens. Our bodies soften. Our breath deepens. We come back into ourselves.
Rest creates space.
And from that space, response can arise naturally.
There is relief in knowing you don’t have to be steady all the time.
There is safety in realising that even when emotions rise, you are still here. Still whole. Still capable of meeting yourself with care.
I no longer see emotional waves as something to hide from.
I see them as signs that I’m alive. That I’m present. That I’m connected.
And perhaps reconnection isn’t about finding solid ground at all —
but about giving yourself permission to move with the tide.