Frustrated 

 Can you feel it? That tightening in your chest, the heaviness pressing down. Shoulders tense, jaw clenched—your body speaking what words cannot. Anxiety, stress, overwhelm—they weave through your being like tangled threads. Let’s call it what it is: tension. A mix of mental and physical weight that we carry without fully realizing.

Life unfolds in ways we rarely anticipate. Every day brings external circumstances—things outside our control—that ripple through our lives. An unexpected deadline, a harsh word, plans that unravel. We find ourselves thinking, If only life aligned with the picture in my mind, it would all feel easier. But life has its own rhythm, doesn’t it? Unpredictable, unyielding. The world moves, and we’re left to respond.

Often, we don’t just respond—we absorb. These circumstances begin to seep inward, morphing into subtle discomforts that grow like roots. Over time, the tension takes hold, altering how we see the world and how we see ourselves. Without realizing it, we become entangled. We stop distinguishing between what’s happening to us and who we are. Stressful events no longer feel external—we are stressed. We find ourselves saying, “You made me anxious,” as though the tension belongs more to others than to us. This subtle shift carries profound consequences, shaping our beliefs, our actions, our identities.

Here’s the thing about tension: it convinces us it is us. We tell ourselves stories to make sense of the feelings. “I’m just an anxious person.” “I’m overwhelmed, but I’ll push through.” “This is just who I am.” These narratives cement our relationship with tension, making it feel inseparable from our identity.

But what if that isn’t true? What if we could imagine, even for a moment, a different possibility? What if tension wasn’t a permanent part of who we are but something that could shift, loosen, or even dissolve? Imagine trading the weight of overwhelm for a sense of lightness, calm, or even simple neutrality. Perhaps you’re thinking, That’s impossible. If so, I invite you to pause and wonder: what if it isn’t?

This week, I worked with a client whose tension had become an all-too-familiar companion. In our conversation, I shared one of my favorite invitations: You are not your thoughts or emotions. You are the one who observes them. The shift is subtle but profound. From this space of observation, tension transforms from something you are to something you experience. It creates room for curiosity, space to ask:

• What is this tension telling me?
• Is there an unmet need beneath it?
• How can I respond in a way that serves me?

By observing without judgment, we can recognize that tension is a signal—a message from within. Positive emotions often signal that our needs are being met. Negative emotions, like tension, point to areas that need attention. They are not our enemies but guides, drawing our awareness to what matters.

When we approach tension this way, we reclaim our power. We can respond with tools like grounding practices, mindfulness, or gentle movement—methods that match the energy of tension and allow it to release, bit by bit.

Life may never align perfectly with the picture in our minds, but we don’t have to let external chaos dictate our inner state. By understanding our needs, acknowledging our emotions without judgment, and cultivating tools to navigate them, we create space for freedom. Even when the world feels heavy, we can live lighter.