Substack suggests your first text should be about yourself, why you are writing, what people can expect from you, etc.

I actually do often reflect on those topics, and I am sure a text of that nature will eventually end up on here. However, what made me reach for my laptop today, place it on my floor table, sit cross legged in front of it and type, was a series of thoughts I had during my run earlier, about my surprise when, after a few days of feeling pretty sluggish, anxious and generally not myself (or the part of myself I like to characterise as “the outsider”, “not welcome here”, “who are you, that is not me”), I seem to bounce back, see the world as a beautiful place, and want to get up and move again.

It’s impressive how our brains forget how it feels to experience anything other than what we’re feeling in that specific moment (I could go on a massive tangent now to talk about how this is a massive hindrance to compassion but we’ll leave that for another day). When we’re low, it’s virtually impossible to remember how it feels to be happy and energised, and the opposite is true as well.

See if you can picture the following thought process:

“My life is on track, I’m excited about a new project/hobby, I have lots of energy to move my body and explore the world, my friends are amazing, I am so grateful. This is it, I’ve done it and life will only get better from here.”

(goes on to completely overestimating their capacity to stay positive and feel well, making lots of plans and life-changing decisions as if life never happened to them before). I am certainly guilty of this, and I imagine you are too.

Not only this phenomenon somehow got naturally selected into our brain chemistry, but the world wants us to be like this, too. We are taught that being strong is to “brush it off, put a smile on your face and go”, “no pain, no gain”, “stop listening to that voice in your head that keeps making excuses and preventing you from reaching your goals”.

The thing is, that voice is our own. And all those “quotes” are someone else.

Our emotions might be inconvenient for whatever plans we make for our days, but they are signals from our body that something (usually a need) is lacking and needs addressing. Sure, if you’re suddenly angry and feel like exploding into an aggressive rant towards a client or co-worker, maybe suppressing that in the moment is the best course of action (because it protects your needs of financial stability and safety, for example), but leaving it unattended, especially when this is done chronically, leads to serious consequences like disconnection from our sense of self, substance abuse or depression.

• I think being strong is feeling our emotions, knowing that we are capable of managing the discomfort they can cause.

• I think being strong is saying no to something we know is not in our best interest, even when that can come with disapproval from others, trusting that we got out own backs and know, better than anyone, what we need and can do.

• I think being strong is challenging whatever "life hack”, “fitness plan” or “health formula” was given to us by a stranger on the internet, acknowledging our discomfort or fatigue and work on finding a way to achieve our goals that respects our bodies and souls.

I listened to a podcast a few weeks ago where the guest suggested that we “don’t shoot the messenger”, when it comes to emotions, and that has made me reflect on this topic.

I hope this read inspires you to give yourself grace and encourage the sensitive side of you to flourish, but listen to yourself first and see whether you think that makes sense.

I am just a stranger after all.