Making Friends With My Nervous System
When past fears come to call, cultivate compassion in the present.
For the past month in Shakti School Level 2, my classmates and I have been learning from Chris Muse, a somatic sex educator, relationship and intimacy guide, and self-proclaimed “permission giver,” and let me tell you, our sessions have been truly magical.
I’ve never been in a space of such unequivocal acceptance and support before, particularly around sexuality, fear, societal constructs, and all the secret weird feelings we try to hide away around our true needs, desires, and longings.
I could feel shame whooshing out of my body with every turn of the conversation. That doesn’t always feel comfortable, mind you. But our time with Chris (just one member of our incredible Shakti School faculty) was a truly eye-opening and heart cleansing experience.
A Distress Call From My Nervous System
It might surprise you that one of the biggest topics in our unit on female sexuality was the nervous system, and that many of the concepts we explored apply to life on a wide variety of planes far beyond relationships and sex.
For me, just one of the gifts provided by these lectures was the reassurance and understanding they provided around some extremely disturbing anxiety symptoms I’d been experiencing, not around sexuality, but around work.
I was recently invited into a consulting gig with a former colleague, someone I respect and trust and always have a good experience collaborating with. The hours and scope of the job were just what I wanted, the pay was good, and I could do it all from home.
I was excited, because it felt like I had manifested this - the ideal part-time gig to bring in some income, but not cause me any stress or take up too much energy while I put my efforts toward launching my coaching business in a more formal way.
Sounds perfect, right? But somehow, it wasn’t.
Even though my logical mind was excited and grateful, something deep inside my nervous system started to go on high alert.
The first evening I sat down to get organized for the project and saw my inbox full of e-mail introductions to people I’d be interviewing, my heart started to race. All that boldface print in my inbox, that universal signal of UNDONE triggered a deep primal response.
Shit! Shit! I’m behind. Look at all those messages! I need to get on these e-mails, stat!
All these neurons of urgency started firing in my brain. My body was washed with the adrenaline and despair that would overtake me at old jobs when facing a never-ending stream of e-mails containing who knows what new dramas or demands. That familiar feeling of drowning and a primal instinct to fight my way to the surface and get away.
Never mind that the current gig was NOTHING like that and that I was working on a very relaxed and long-term timeline. None of those facts mattered. Inside my body, I was freaking out.
I shut my computer and spent the rest of the evening fighting off panic.
Slow and Steady
When I sat down the next day to face those e-mails, at first my mind was frozen and the inner critic stories started:
“You’re so rusty at all this, Devan, you don’t know what you’re doing anymore.”
“You’re not really worth what they’re paying you for this. Soon they’ll see how incompentant you are.”
And the classic:
“All these people are too fancy/smart/professional/high level for you, and they’re going to think you’re an idiot.”
I felt like I was losing my mind. I WANTED to do this project, and logically I knew it was well within my skills and scope, but everything in my nervous system was fighting me against it.
Because I didn’t know what else to do, I pulled out all my anxiety hacks and tricks. I went outside and lay down on the ground. I went for walks, punched pillows, brain dumped into my journal, had dance parties, did yoga, kicked my arms and legs and yelled. Anything I could think of to shake the stress and fear out of my body.
I also meditated and napped and gave myself lots and lots of space for rest, which I usually don’t do.
I kept scheduling and executing the interviews, and they all went very well. Every single time, I’d have to fight off a huge wave of physical anxiety right before I started, but as soon as I engaged with the person and connected my energy with theirs, I’d feel fine and fall into a nice groove.
Responding the the Past
I was a couple of weeks into this project when we had our first lecture with Chris Muse, and countless lightbulbs went off for me in that session, as she spoke to what I knew intuitively. My nervous system was responding to the past, not to what was actually happening to me.
My body was living in the past, experiencing old patterns and sensations in live technicolor, pulling up waves of old energy and fear that I had pushed down over and over, at a time when I couldn’t let myself feel the true extent of my frustration, my exhaustion, and my grief.
Suddenly, I was filled with compassion for myself. For that old version of me, who felt so alone and overwhelmed, who let herself be tossed around and didn’t value herself enough to find steady ground.
I felt proud that I was taking care of that old version of me now. It wasn’t too late. I could be kind to myself, remind myself over and over again of all the good things that are really happening in my life at this moment.
I could remind myself that things are different now, and that I’ll never ever let things get that bad again.
I could reassure myself that I was safe and doing a good job and that it was okay to relax and let myself enjoy this work. I could choose to take care of myself, without giving up on something that wasn’t easy.
The Space Between Hell Yes and No
There is a sentiment out there in the wellness world these days around boundaries that goes something like this: “If it’s not a HELL YES, then it’s a no!”
Meaning that if you’re not totally 100% into doing something, then you shouldn’t do it. You should reserve your energy for things that only feel 100% “right” in your body and mind.
I think this notion is intended to encourage us to focus our energy on the things that are most important to us. But as a person who needs to consider things and take some time to know how I really feel in my mind and my body, this concept has always seemed more stressful than helpful to me.
Chris pointed out that this kind of thinking can keep us extremely limited and prevent us from moving into growth zones where we experience what she calls generative discomfort. This is a place where we might not feel great, but we know we’re not in any true danger, and we know we want to stay there in support of a larger goal.
If I had used the “hell yes or nothing” framework in this case, I might have said to myself: “Your mind and body are NOT saying yes to this. It’s making you freak out and feel terrible. This must mean that you are just not meant to do this kind of work anymore and you should step away from it completely!”
But I knew in my heart that it was more nuanced than that.
I knew I was experiencing exactly what Chris was describing. I wasn’t really rejecting what was happening in the present. I was rejecting the past trauma. And if I walked away from that discomfort rather than facing it, I’d miss out on whatever opportunities might lay on the other side of that fear.
So instead I walked straight into my fear, with a lot of support and compassion for myself, and used it to push the edge of my comfort zone. By the end of the project, my confidence had increased, my anxiety had lessened, and I felt a renewed energy to step into whatever invitations and possibilities might arise as I launch my coaching business.
Instead of fighting against my nervous system and continuing to feel alone, now we’re working as team.
Befriending My Nervous System
Chris introduced us to the concept of “befriending our nervous system” (a term first coined by clinician and consultant Deb Dana) and I knew immediately that this was exactly the work I’d been doing and would continue to do.
Listening to my body in new and deeper ways. Becoming friends with the sensations and cues of my body, instead of rejecting or trying to change them. Going slow enough to see that my reactions can’t always be taken at face value.
Remembering that I am an extremely complex being who is always changing, and it’s okay to let all the different parts and versions of me come together, as I learn how to be whole and calm, and cultivate a peaceful life.
How to Get Brave
I wanted to share this story with you, because it’s a perfect example of doing something scary in order to get braver.
You can’t somehow “get brave” first and then do scary things. Waiting until we’re brave is what holds us back. Moving ahead, into the darkness, trusting yourself, has to come first.
Once you’ve taken that step into the darkness, your courage will kick in. I promise. But the only way to find out is to go in.