When Fixing Fails and Presence Feels Empty—or Just Not Enough
Some mornings, nothing feels right.
The body’s tight. The mind won’t stop spinning.
You know fixing won’t help—but presence feels useless, too.
It’s like standing between two worlds with no map.
This is what it means to be at the threshold.
(In the paid subscriber guide tomorrow, I’ll share a simple audio meditation and a few gentle tools to help you stay present—especially when your system wants to rush ahead. Use them anytime you need to come back to your breath, your body, or the quiet flame that’s still burning beneath the noise.)
This morning, everything felt off.
My body was tight and bloated. There was this burning in my chest—heartburn, yes, but something more. A kind of trapped ache. I hadn’t slept well. I was sad. Lonely. A little deflated, like someone had slowly let the air out of my inner tire overnight.
And underneath all that? A question looping in the background like a forgotten song on repeat:
“What should I do?”
My mind spun in all directions.
Change the diet?
Say something to Alona?
Do more breathwork?
Try less?
I kept thinking: “I’m not supposed to fix this. But if I don’t fix it… what the hell do I do instead?”
And deeper still—almost too soft to hear:
“If I don’t fix it… will I just stay stuck here forever?”
The Paradox That Breaks You Open
There’s this place in the healing journey that no one really prepares you for.
It’s the place where all your fixing—your strategies, your coping, your endless effort—no longer works. You see it clearly: none of it leads where you hoped it would. It just spins you in circles.
So you try something radical.
You stop.
You breathe.
You listen.
You try being present.
And at first… it feels like nothing.
It feels like a void.
Like floating in open water with no shore in sight.
Like sitting still while your symptoms rage and your relationships wobble and your thoughts scream for action.
It feels like failure.
But it’s not.
It’s the threshold.
This Isn’t A Mistake—It’s a Crossing
This morning, as I sat with all this, I realized:
I’m not failing.
I’m feeling.
This sadness in my chest?
This tightness in my gut?
This questioning, grasping, spiraling confusion?
It’s what it feels like to be in-between.
To no longer trust the old ways…
… but not yet trust the new.
And that’s where the grief lives.
That’s where the loneliness grows loud.
That’s where the old voices beg us to do something—anything—just make it go away.
But if you can stay here…
If you can soften instead of solve…
If you can breathe right into the ache, instead of pushing past it…
Then something happens.
You start to hear the faint flicker of something else.
Not a solution.
A flame.
The Flame of Inner Excellence
There’s a book I love called Inner Excellence (by Jim Murphy)—and while I didn’t come up with that phrase, something about it stayed with me. But not in the way the world defines excellence.
It isn’t about winning or optimizing or achieving.
It’s about a moment-to-moment connection to self and others, lit by the warmth of your own awareness.
It’s a flame.
Sometimes dim.
Sometimes hard to find.
But always there—beneath the noise, beneath the fear, beneath the fixing.
It doesn’t push.
It doesn’t chase.
It burns quietly with truth.
And if you can return to it—even for a moment—you remember something:
Presence doesn’t replace action.
It transforms the energy action comes from.
The Voice That Still Wants to Know: “But What Should I Do?”
You can do this, says the inner voice, but how is being present going to help?
How will it fix your heartburn?
Your marriage?
Your happiness?
Your digestion?
Your fear?
How is just being enough?
Here’s what I tell that voice:
“You’re not wrong to want change. You’re not wrong to ask questions. You just don’t have to answer them right now. Not from panic. Not from pressure. First—we come home to what’s here.”
Because when I act from that old energy—urgency, fear, performance—I end up eating before I know what I’m hungry for.
I fire the gun before I’ve even aimed.
And then I wonder why nothing hits the mark.
A Flame Action Sequence for When You Don’t Know What to Do
You don’t need a master plan today.
You need a pause.
A felt check-in.
A moment with the flame.
Try this sequence:
1. What should I eat?
Ask: “What would feel gentle—not just ‘safe’ or ‘correct’?”
Flame action: Eat slowly. Pause halfway. Check in. Adjust with kindness.
2. What about my symptoms?
Say: “I won’t turn my body into an enemy today.”
Flame action: Soften around discomfort. Support yourself without fighting yourself.
3. What about my relationship?
Say: “I won’t force connection or withdraw from fear. I’ll show up with kindness, not control.”
Flame action: Offer one small, quiet gesture of love. Not to get something. Just to be something.
4. What about joy?
Say: “Joy isn’t a goal today—it’s a whisper I’ll listen for.”
Flame action: Don’t chase happiness. Sense it. In your daughter’s smile. In the breath you almost forgot to take.
Gentle Morning Practice: Staying Before Striving
Step 1: Ground
Hand on your chest or belly.
Breathe once.
Let your jaw unclench.
Say: “I don’t need to solve the morning—I just need to arrive in it.”
Step 2: Thank the Fixer
Let the voice ask its questions.
What should I eat?
What should I do?
How do I make this better?
Don’t silence it.
Thank it.
Say: “Thank you for caring. But I need to check in with what’s true first.”
Step 3: Ask the Flame
“If I weren’t trying to fix, prove, or perform…
… what would feel kind right now?”
Then listen.
That’s your next step.
What If That’s It?
What if today isn’t about getting it all right?
What if the absence of joy isn’t failure—
—it’s just a signal that you’ve been acting without alignment?
What if joy is still there,
quiet and tender,
just waiting for you to slow down long enough to feel it?
Closing: You Are Not Lost
You are not broken.
You are not doing it wrong.
You are not behind.
You’re in the place between fixing and trusting.
And it hurts.
And it’s real.
And it’s holy.
Let yourself stay.
Let yourself soften.
And when the next action rises—
not from fear, not from fixing,
but from the quiet knowing beneath it all—
You’ll know.
You’ll move.
Not perfectly.
But aligned.
With the flame still lit.
Gentle Sharing Invitation
If this piece resonated with you, if it helped you soften, or reminded you that you’re not alone in the messy, in-between places—
You’re invited to share it with someone you care about.
This work stays alive through connection—one real conversation, one forwarded note, one shared breath at a time.
Your presence here supports the heart of this space.
Thank you for walking this path with me.
Tomorrow’s Deeper Dive for Paid Subscribers
Tomorrow, I’ll share a simple, supportive follow-up to help you integrate today’s reflection into real life.
You’ll get a 3–minute guided audio meditation, along with a few gentle tools—like body-based check-ins, daily flame prompts, and grounding phrases to use when things feel urgent or unclear.
It’s not more to perform.
It’s a small pause to help you stay with yourself.
If you’d like to join us as a paid subscriber, you’re warmly invited.
This space is growing slowly, gently—just like we are.
Awe inspiring Self Empathy Process ❤️