Words of Comfort When You’re Not Ready to Change How You Feel
What if you’re not ready to change? What if you’re not ready to feel the full spectrum of your feelings? What if you feel rushed in your healing… even if it’s been months, years since you started hurting?
What if other people want something for you, but you’re not ready for it?
This is a short note just to say… it’s OK. You’re OK.
Negative feelings aren’t fun for any of us, but they’re still part of your life experience. They’re partly what guides you into being who you most want to be, into being yourself… eventually.
And *everything* you feel is allowed to take up space.
You can decide to honor each and every one of your feelings, however uncomfortable, however terrifying they are.
Just remember that your feelings aren't YOU.
To deny your feelings is to deny your own presence.
Since my brother’s suicide 8 years ago and my father’s death 3 years ago, I’ve learned that I can only move forward once I honor where I am now. Truly honor it. And give myself a break for not feeling better yet, and for not knowing how to be better.
And if you’re not ready to change? Let yourself be here, as you are. Let your feelings be here too, even if you can’t dive into them yet.
This kind of thing takes time.
In time your wounds will heal. They’ll heal when you listen to what they have to say, without forcing them to change their story or their lifespan.
After all, your pain is a sacred expression of the truth of the moment, and an important part of what connects us.
Your pain is part of your story, part of how you can help others, but it’s not the whole picture.
Your feelings are real, but they’re not who you are. You’re so much more than that, my dear. You’re more than words can hold, more than the light can show.
Sitting in the darkness, I learned about the power of my own light. I’ve learned a whole lot more about the light, actually, by being open to the darkness than by enclosing myself in light.
Sogyal Rinpoche said something perfect about this. He said: “Light must come from inside. You cannot ask the darkness to leave; you must turn on the light.”
So don’t ignore the part of you that isn’t ready for change, that isn’t ready to be expressed. That part has something it still needs to show you.
Don’t ask the darkness to leave.
Turn on the light. See what’s here. Let it be so. Let it teach you, guide you, change you. Feel your way through the pain, when you’re ready.
You’ll get there. You're strong enough to get there.
The way things are right now — they won’t always be this way.
These things take time.
In the meantime, if you can learn to be kinder to yourself, even aches and wounds can be opportunities to love better.
Treat yourself like a garden and you’ll see, that you don’t have to bloom all year long.
You’ll see that you’re here to heal the pieces of yourself into remembrance -- of the wholeness you already are, the wholeness you came from. Maybe you’re here to forget, so that you can feel the bliss of remembering.
Just for this moment, accept that. Accept your pieces, your own brokenness.
Accepting yourself first, before trying to feel better, is the seed of self-love and self-trust that blooms later on.
It’s OK to not be ready right now. It’s OK to be you.
. . .
Tell me:
Which of these words did you most need to read today?
Tell me in the comments. I’d love to know what you think, how you feel. And what you share here might be just the thing someone else needs to read.
~ Jen
P.S. For your heart, whenever you need it: take this meditation and give yourself a break.
Comments on this post (7)
Vivian, thank you for writing this — it’s something I needed to read! Such a helpful way to look at depression, as a season of space-making <3
— Jennifer Williamson
Maybe your here to forget so remembering can be more blissful. This l know from going through my almost scheduled deep major depression of 47 yrs. It’s ok. One reason for it is to clear out the junk in my head. I come through with a non chatter empty regrowing new space. Lovely since l have no choice in the matter but to curl up in bed for 2 weeks this round.
— Vivian
4elise… your words speak the truth, thank you for sharing some of your story, pain and hope. I can’t agree more, that we’re responsible for how we live not only for ourselves and those still here, but for the people we love who have passed <3 wishing you joy and more life than ever in the new year
— Jennifer Williamson
Hi Jen, your words have been like a balm for my soul. My father committed suicide 16 years ago, and the pain and the regret are still there, after all those years. Somehow you go on. Even though I find myself occasionally wondering what I am doing here, I still prefer Life over death, and I am committed to live also for my father. It Is very true that we are not alone in our suffering and this Is comforting somehow. Wish you health and, above all, peace in your mind and Heart. We have the responsability to live also for Who decided to leave earlier.
— 4elise@libero.it
Amanda,
My sorrow for the loss of your brother, too. You and Jen have a hurt only your souls can know. You’ve found a good and true friend in Jen. I’m very glad you found her. Enjoy Healing Brave. It is phenomenal. One of Jen’s grateful friends, Jim O’Hara
— Jim O’Hara
Amanda, this was meant for you <3 I am so sorry about the loss of your brother, and that you and your family have had to go through the unfathomable pain that comes with suicide. I understand what you mean exactly about the days leading up to the anniversary being some of the hardest. There’s a “special” kind of regret that comes with this kind of loss. I have it too, wondering if I had only known, I would have driven all those miles to see my brother so he knew he was loved and had a life ahead of him. I’ll be thinking of your brother this week, and this weekend. I’ll hold you in my thoughts and heart. Email me if you ever want to share things. Sending a virtual hug ~ Jen
— Jennifer Williamson
Hello Jen,
Thank you for this. What timing to have read this. One of my friends shared this on Facebook and I feel like it was meant for me to read. This is the hardest week of the year for me. I still have a lot of pain and regret that does not seem to go away. It will be 9 years this Saturday since my brother committed suicide at just 21 years old. The week leading up to the anniversary seems to be the worst because I still always think “what if I just called him or even at least texted to tell him I miss him.” This is the first I am seeing of your page but I definitely am interested more in your blogs and emails. Thank you for being a voice. I am not good at words or writing at all. Music and singing and dogs are what helps me through it all. And currently I am without a dog at my home so it makes it that much harder. Hope you have a wonderful night and week.
Thank you, Amanda
— Amanda Gauthier