When we are primarily located in our thinking mind, tracking what to say next, analyzing, organizing, our presence becomes narrowed, cognitively mediated, and less available for true relational contact.

So many of the people who walk into our offices are searching for the same things: peace, love, connection, and a sense of wholeness.

For so many years of my life, I was in a constant, driven state of wanting to do more and be more. I strove for excellence and felt intense shame and blame about anything I detected, or anything others pointed out to me, that seemed like a flaw.

As I was reading the news recently, story after story of political figures using hateful and bigoted language, I could feel my nervous system slide into fight or flight. My body tightened. My thoughts sped up. My mind kept saying, “It can’t be this way,” and “It isn’t supposed to be this way.”

If you’re feeling a little off lately, for example more irritable, more tired, more tender, more emotional than you expected, I want to normalize that.

For many people, certain stretches of life are not just busy. They are nervous system events.

I want to name something I see all the time, both in my work and in my own life.

Sometimes we’re not actually stuck.

Sometimes we’re working very hard, but our nervous system is using that work as a strategy to avoid the next layer of feeling.

Every day, you sit with pain, fear, grief, shame, dissociation, despair, and dysregulation. You track nervous systems under threat. You hold stories that are heavy and often unspeakable. You offer steadiness in moments where safety feels very far away.

Addiction is one of the places where our clients carry the most shame, and where our field has too often reinforced it with subtle (and not-so-subtle) messages about “noncompliance,” “lack of motivation,” or “not wanting it badly enough.”

From a nervous system perspective, this longing is profoundly intelligent. It reflects an organism seeking regulation, seeking a return to safety, connection, and grounded being.

But as you know from your own days in the therapy chair, this movement away from and back toward regulation is not only your clients’ experience. It is ours as well.

The mind is a remarkable tool. It helps us organize our lives, navigate complexity, and make sense of the world. But when we live almost entirely in the thinking mind, life can begin to feel tight, effortful, and exhausting.

Much of the work we do as clinicians involves helping people move out of the relentless activity of the thinking mind and into a deeper, more embodied way of relating to themselves and to life.

We are wired for connection, yet so many of us feel disappointed and frustrated in our relationships.

In this webinar, you’ll learn it’s not just what you say — it’s how your body, tone, and presence signal safety or threat. The good news is, you can improve your relationships by understanding your nervous system.

For thousands of years, we humans have longed for improved relationships, lasting happiness, and freedom from struggle, fear, and pain. Our collective craving has created no shortage of attempts to quench that thirst, including religion, philosophy, psychology, education, alcohol, personal growth workshops, and even dating apps. And yet, you may find that despite all of your best efforts you don’t feel better or that much different. Your happiness doesn’t seem to last, you may continue to struggle with connection and intimacy in relationships, and you may not be enjoying much ease in your life.

As therapists and helping professionals who work with victims and survivors of trauma, we are exposed to the palpable levels of suffering, struggle, shame, and despair that permeate our clients' lives. We sit and listen to their pain, their grief, and their loss. Part of our work is to hold hope and compassion for them, especially when they often cannot hold it for themselves. This work can be exhilarating and immensely satisfying, but it can also come with a cost.