What Happens When We Stop Running from Ourselves
The Art of Living Well | A Reflection by Sandi Greene
For much of my adult life, I didn’t know how to sit with discomfort.
When uncomfortable feelings surfaced—anxiety, sadness, uncertainty, disappointment, or that vague sense that something wasn’t quite right—I wanted them to go away.
And I became remarkably good at making that happen.
I worked too much. I ate when I wasn’t hungry. There were years when I drank too much. I kept myself busy, distracted, and occupied.
Sometimes the distraction was social media. Sometimes it was the news, drama, or the endless stream of things happening in the world.
Anything to keep me from turning inward and sitting with what I was actually feeling.
I didn’t recognize it at the time, but so much of what I called coping was actually avoidance.
And avoidance, as I’ve learned, comes at a cost.
The Body Keeps the Score
Years ago, I discovered Dr. Bessel van der Kolk’s book The Body Keeps the Score, and it helped me begin understanding something important.
Our emotional experiences are not separate from our physical lives.
Stress, fear, and unresolved emotional experiences can affect our nervous systems, our sleep, our relationships, and our sense of well-being.
I began to understand that my body had been carrying experiences my mind had spent years trying to outrun.
And I also began to understand that many of my habits weren’t simply about food, alcohol, work, or distraction.
They were attempts to find relief.
Temporary relief from feelings I hadn’t yet learned how to meet.
That realization changed the way I looked at myself.
Instead of asking, What’s wrong with me?
I began asking, What am I trying not to feel?
What If Discomfort Isn’t the Enemy?
One of the most meaningful lessons of my healing journey has been learning to sit with uncomfortable feelings rather than immediately trying to change them.
Through my personal growth work, my training with Nancy Levin, and more recently my meditation teacher training with davidji, I’ve been learning a different way of relating to my inner world.
A way grounded in mindfulness, acceptance, and compassionate curiosity.
Instead of reaching for a distraction, I can pause.
Instead of judging the feeling, I can notice it.
Instead of demanding that it disappear, I can make room for it.
Sometimes I simply sit quietly and notice what’s happening in my body.
Is there tightness in my chest?
A knot in my stomach?
Tension in my shoulders?
Restlessness?
A sense of unease that I can’t quite explain?
I don’t have to immediately analyze or fix any of it.
I can simply acknowledge:
Something is here, and I am willing to listen.
A Different Kind of Freedom
Recently, I had an experience that left me feeling unsettled.
Nothing catastrophic had happened. I had simply come away from a gathering with the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
In the past, I might have distracted myself, overanalyzed the experience, or immediately tried to make everything better.
This time, I did something different.
I sat with the discomfort.
I allowed myself to feel uneasy without turning it into a crisis.
And then I began asking three questions:
What is the message?
What might this feeling be inviting me to notice? Is there an unmet need, an old pattern, or something in my life that deserves attention?
What do I need to know?
What is actually true, beyond the stories my mind may be creating? What belongs to me, and what might I be taking responsibility for that isn’t mine to carry?
What is the next aligned action?
Is there something I need to change, communicate, accept, or release? Or is the wisest action simply to rest and allow the feeling to pass?
As I reflected, clarity began to emerge.
I realized that the experience had offered me useful information. There were things I could approach differently next time.
But I also recognized an old habit of taking responsibility for other people’s feelings.
And that was something I could begin to release.
The discomfort wasn’t a failure. It was information.
From Numbing to Noticing
I think many of us have become extraordinarily skilled at distraction.
We live in a world that offers endless opportunities to avoid ourselves.
Another television episode.
Another glass of wine.
Another snack.
Another email.
Another hour of scrolling.
Another project that absolutely must get done.
And sometimes these activities are simply enjoyable parts of life. There’s nothing inherently wrong with pleasure, productivity, entertainment, or rest.
The question is not necessarily What am I doing?
The more revealing question may be:
Why am I doing it right now?
Am I choosing this consciously?
Or am I trying to escape something within myself?
That distinction has become increasingly important to me.
Because I’ve discovered that freedom isn’t simply the absence of unhealthy habits.
Freedom is having the awareness and capacity to choose how I respond to life.
Coming Home to Myself
At 78, I am still learning.
Still discovering old patterns.
Still encountering uncomfortable feelings.
And still practicing the art of meeting myself with compassion.
I no longer believe that living well means always feeling peaceful, positive, or happy.
Some days we feel disappointed.
Some days we feel uncertain.
Some days old fears and familiar patterns come knocking.
And that’s part of being human.
The difference is that I am learning not to abandon myself when those feelings arise.
I can be present with discomfort without allowing it to define me.
I can listen without judging.
I can respond without reacting.
And I can recognize when I need support rather than trying to manage everything on my own.
Perhaps this is what healing looks like in everyday life.
Not perfection.
Not constant serenity.
But a growing willingness to be present with the full experience of being human.
The pleasant and the unpleasant.
The comfortable and the uncomfortable.
The joy and the sorrow.
All of it.
And somewhere in that willingness, I am discovering a freedom I spent much of my life searching for in all the wrong places.
A Reflection for Your Week
The next time you feel that familiar urge to distract yourself, fix something, reach for food, pick up your phone, or fill the silence, perhaps you might pause.
Take a gentle breath.
Notice what you’re feeling.
And ask yourself:
What am I trying not to feel right now?
What might this discomfort be inviting me to notice?
What would it look like to meet myself with compassion instead of judgment?
You don’t have to find the answer immediately.
You don’t have to turn every feeling into a lesson.
And you don’t have to sit with overwhelming emotions alone.
Sometimes simply noticing, with kindness, is enough.
Maybe the beginning of freedom isn’t learning how to feel better.
Maybe it’s learning how to be with what we feel.
With love,
Sandi
The Art of Living Well
Meditation • Mindfulness • Reflectionh
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