11/27/2025
*The Doorway in the Push and Pull*
For some of us, there is a quiet rhythm inside, a subtle tug: wanting to be seen, wanting to connect, wanting to share what we know… and yet, recoiling from that very exposure. Perhaps in youth, we longed for connection through understanding, only to meet corrections, dismissals, or mockery.
And so the mind, and the nervous system, learned to protect itself—arming curiosity with knowledge as shields, veiling the childlike innocence and wonder that knowledge wielded as power hides so brilliantly well.
The push and pull—the desire to connect and the instinct to protect—can feel confusing. The chest tightens, the mind contracts, as if it must choose between being known and staying safe. And yet, within that tension lies a doorway. The paradox is not a problem to be solved; it is a space to rest, to witness, to feel.
The wanting and the resisting are two notes of the same melody, sometimes discordant, sometimes harmonizing. To attend to them, slowly and without demand, is to meet an old pattern with gentleness. There is no need to unravel it all at once. It can be explored like a long-awaited story, revealed in fragments, softening as attention lands without judgment.
For those who have not felt this pattern, it may seem foreign, or even unrecognizable. And yet, there is an invitation here: to notice the subtle rhythms of tension and release within yourself, however they appear. Perhaps they sing a different melody, perhaps the notes feel unfamiliar—but the act of witnessing, of giving space, opens a quiet doorway into the grace that has always been present, quietly teaching that longing and protection, confusion and clarity, can coexist within the same breath.
𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐮𝐥𝐥
1. Create a small pause. Sit or stand comfortably. Take a few slow breaths. Let your body soften where you can, letting shoulders drop, jaw relax, hands rest easily.
2. Notice the rhythm. Bring gentle attention to any subtle tug inside: the wanting to connect, to be known, to share… and the simultaneous urge to protect, to pull back, to guard. You do not need to change it or fix it—simply notice it.
3. Name it, lightly. In your mind, you might say:
“Here is the part of me that wants to be seen… and here is the part that wants to protect itself.”
Naming is not about analyzing, it is about acknowledging.
4. Follow curiosity, not judgment. Notice where your attention is drawn. Is there a gentle tug toward expression, or a slight recoil? Explore it as if observing a melody or rhythm. No pressure to resolve, no need to pick a side.
5. Invite the pattern to breathe. Imagine giving space for both the wanting and the resisting. See them as two sides of the same pulse, dancing together. Perhaps the wanting softens; perhaps the resisting loosens. Perhaps nothing changes at all—and that is okay.
6. Return as often as it calls. This is not a task to finish. It can be approached like a story, a garden, or a breath: a slow unfolding over time. Let the curiosity lead you gently, letting the pattern reveal itself in fragments, without expectation.
7. Close with soft acknowledgment. Before moving on, rest your attention softly on the rhythm you noticed. Acknowledge that both the wanting and the protecting are part of your living experience, and that meeting them gently is already a form of care.
💗💓💞
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙪𝙡𝙨𝙚
Beneath the chest, a quiet pulse—
wanting, recoiling,
curiosity armored,
wonder veiled.
Breathe into the tug,
soften into the sway.
Push and pull
are two notes of the same melody.
No fixing, no unraveling.
Just this rhythm,
just this breath,
already whole,
already here.
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