The Art of Coming Back to Ourselves Time and Time Again
Living, just like meditating, is about learning to let go and return to our center
Deep within each of us, there’s a core — a sanctuary where authenticity and intuition dwell, shaping the very essence of who we are.
This core isn’t a tangible place; it’s a mental and emotional state, an anchor that keeps us grounded in the here and now. When we are in tune with it, we gain clarity, and decisions become more intuitive.
Life has constantly shown me that when we find ourselves rooted in our core, everything flows seamlessly, as if all the pieces of the puzzle have finally come together. We feel guided and supported because we trust our intuition no matter what.
However, the journey of life is never without its share of obstacles.
Unfortunately, when challenges arise, it’s all too common for us to revert to familiar patterns and coping mechanisms, even if they are detrimental to our well-being. In these moments, we drift away from our center. We lose ourselves in the cacophony of external pressures and internal struggles.
It’s our job to find our way back.
Our Center Is Always There, Even When We Drift Away From It
No matter how far we wander, our center is always there, waiting for us to awaken and come back.
At our center, we find our deepest convictions, our passions, and our unique voice. It’s the seat of our intuition, whispering truths that often go unheard in the noise of the external world.
Our center is also where we find our resilience, where we confront adversity with unwavering strength. When we’re rooted in it, we’re like the willow, flexible and strong, bending gracefully under the pressures of life. We don’t crumble in the face of difficulties; we rise above them, learning and evolving with each experience.
We’re grounded. We’re secure. We know how strong we are.
However, staying rooted in our center takes a lot of practice, patience, and self-compassion. It’s not easy to stay grounded when life gets in the way — when a trigger comes up, when a loved one passes away, or when a relationship comes to an end.
In the face of these challenges, we often get blocked. We freeze, we get anxious, and we don’t know how to cope.
It’s as if the ground beneath us vanishes. Suddenly, we have no roots anymore. The sense of alignment is replaced by a disorienting void, leaving us feeling lost and disconnected.
This is something I’ve struggled with a lot this year. I’ve felt many times that life kept throwing me curveball after curveball, testing the limits of my resilience. Every time I was finally catching a breath, another challenge would emerge, leaving me gasping for stability. And, every time, I’d feel powerless and enter freeze mode for a few days (or weeks, or months).
It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve learned a lot along the way.
Our center is also where we find our resilience, where we confront adversity with unwavering strength. When we’re rooted in it, we’re like the willow, flexible and strong, bending gracefully under the pressures of life.
Living, Just Like Meditating, Is About Learning To Let Go And Return To Our Center
When I meditate every morning, sooner or later negative thoughts come up. They tell me that I’m not good enough, that I’m unworthy, or that I should be worrying about x, y, and z.
At first, they might be fleeting, like passing clouds in the vast sky of my mind. But sometimes, they linger, casting shadows on my thoughts and emotions. In those moments, I have to remind myself that meditation isn’t about banishing negative thoughts; it’s about acknowledging them without judgment and gently letting them go.
It’s incredibly easy to get entangled in these negative thoughts, letting them consume us, just as it’s easy to get swept away by life’s obstacles.
However, the real challenge lies in recognizing that we have a choice, both in meditation and in life. We can choose not to be defined by these thoughts, just as we can choose not to be overwhelmed by life’s challenges.
Living, just like meditating, is about learning to let go. It’s about understanding that negative thoughts, challenges, and adversities will come and go, but our center remains constant.
When we consciously decide not to let negative thoughts define us, we reclaim our power. We shift our focus from what we lack to what we have— an inner strength, resilience, and a sense of self-worth that transcends the momentary doubts. We realize that our worthiness isn’t contingent on external validation or the absence of challenges — it’s an inherent part of who we are.
Similarly, when we approach life’s obstacles with the same perspective, we discover that these challenges, though scary and painful, are not insurmountable barriers but stepping stones on our journey.
And hey, this isn’t about denying the reality of difficult situations or pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. It’s about acknowledging the challenges, feeling the emotions that come with them, and then consciously choosing not to be defined by them.
More importantly, it’s about recognizing that we always, always, always have a choice in how we respond.
We don’t have to surrender our power to the circumstances.
We don’t have to succumb to despair, letting difficult situations overshadow our inherent strength.
We don’t have to let adversity extinguish the fire within us.
Instead, we can choose hope over hopelessness. We can choose to stand tall in the face of challenges, knowing that they are not the end but a bend in the road. We can choose self-compassion, recognizing that it’s okay to struggle and feel overwhelmed — but that we can always return to our center.
The real challenge lies in recognizing that we have a choice, both in meditation and in life. We can choose not to be defined by these thoughts, just as we can choose not to be overwhelmed by life’s challenges.
How I’ve Been Returning To My Center
As I wrote before, I’ve realized that coming back to my center is not about big, dramatic changes; it’s about small, simple steps that make me feel good and support my healing journey.
It may seem silly to you, but something as simple as sitting still and breathing makes a world of difference to me. In those quiet moments, I find a sanctuary, a space where the noise of the world fades, and I can hear the whispers of my own heart.
Each morning, I start my day with meditation and gratitude. I connect with my breath and remind myself of what I’m grateful for. It’s a daily ritual that sets the tone for the day ahead.
The most difficult, yet rewarding part, has been acknowledging my emotions, even when every fiber of my being wants to retreat into numbness (my go-to involuntary coping mechanism). This means that if I realize I’m starting to get anxious or paralyzed, I give myself permission to stop and feel whatever is coming up to the surface.
It’s very uncomfortable — but it’s also extremely liberating. Each time I confront those overwhelming feelings instead of numbing them, I’m essentially rewriting my story.
Last, but not least, I’ve been prioritizing time in nature to regulate my nervous system. Scientifically, spending time outdoors has been proven to lower cortisol levels, the stress hormone, and increase the production of endorphins, the body’s natural mood lifters. These biological responses explain the profound calmness that washes over me as I immerse myself in the natural world.
It’s a process, but I’m getting there. Healing takes time, and it requires a lot of trial and error. You have to find what works for you.
Just like meditation, the practice of returning to our center requires patience and consistency. It’s not a one-time event but a continuous, mindful effort.
When we return to our center, we tap into our inner strength, our intuition, and our wisdom. It doesn’t mean that the challenges disappear, but our perspective shifts — we view them from a place of inner stability, personal growth, and self-trust.
And here’s the most important part: in every return to our center, we reclaim our strength. Challenges may persist, but so does our resilience.
