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A New Reality

  • Jun 25
  • 5 min read
Abstract neon shattered head profile on black with the text Default State of Mind? chaotic, vibrant, and fragmented.

One of the hardest things to do when facing something that tore our hearts out or made us gasp in horror or pain is to turn that experience into something that benefits our lives. I know, it sounds cliché. Yeah right. There was nothing good about what happened!

 

It's tempting to wallow in our misery and push all that painful stuff aside, but wallowing is a judgement that says I am a victim. Going inside, processing that experience by feeling what we feel without judgement allows ourselves to feel the unthinkable and still live another day. In my experience, not going through this process led to more pain, as I ignored and stuffed my wounds or trauma deep inside me.


The word “trauma” literally means wound, shock, or injury. Psychological trauma is a person’s experience of emotional distress resulting from an event that overwhelms the capacity to emotionally digest it.

Here are a couple of examples.


After many edits and revisions, I was told by a trusted friend that my book wasn't fit to print. I felt overwhelmed and shocked as it sucked the wind out of me. I reached out to other people for their feedback. They said I needed to flesh out some parts, but it wasn't as bad as I had been led to believe. I searched through the manuscript to correct mistakes and refine my writing. My book is a better book because my friend had the courage to give me her honest opinion. (See Reclaim Your Power for more on how this experience changed me.)

 

When I got the news that I had a second autoimmune disease, my first response was to go straight into victim mode as I chastised myself. How could I have let myself get so sick again? What was I doing wrong? The shock and worry came later as I realized there was a genuine risk of stroke, blindness, and an aortic aneurysm had my doctor not caught it in time. My brain felt like the photo above—shattered, bloody, like sharp objects were stabbing at thoughts I didn't know I had.


In so many ways, I was fortunate; I didn't die, and I knew there was something I needed to learn. My body was speaking loudly and clearly, showing me that my internal environment needed tending. At any minute, how are we feeling and thinking? How does our body feel? Does anything register within us? It should.

 

I'm sure we all have blocks to assessing how we feel: illness, chronic pain, trauma, natural disasters, PTSD, abuse, difficult family relationships, lack of safety, food, housing, and money. Any of those situations or events cause our thoughts to focus on getting through what's right in front of us and not necessarily on how we feel about what's happening. Those feelings also register in our bodies.

 

What if we could pause, put survival mode aside for a second, and check in with ourselves? I dubbed this pause an integral pause and am experimenting with that as I return to health. Without the disease, the medication, and its side-effects, how do I feel? And as I feel that feeling, can I experience joy, happiness, gratitude, and playfulness, or perhaps more energy, less pain, and a healthier body?

 

There is one more factor for empaths to consider. Empathic ability to feel others' emotions complicates my ability to assess how I feel accurately. Powerful emotions from others register in me, whether they are positive or negative. When facing a disaster of any kind, I feel the sadness, grief, pain, and loss of the people around me at the same time. Many times tears would run down my face just watching an unknown person suffering on TV. Somehow, my own feelings get muddled up with theirs. It has taken me years to learn to feel my emotions, and after that, to pause and accurately understand them.

 

What happens in that pause is I get to bring myself into the present, shut out anything coming from outside me, and allow what I feel to make itself known. I acknowledge all my less than positive feelings and listen to them. Sometimes I'm prompted to explore healing. Either way, these feelings are a part of me and are telling me something important. When I understand and process those important messages, it's possible for me to feel more positive no matter what I'm facing.

 

Sometimes a trigger sends me spiraling into the depths of shame, frustration, anger, and indignation over something that doesn't warrant such a reaction. This is an opportunity to turn inward and search for the root cause. It is likely that old, disempowering beliefs from childhood need to be changed into empowering beliefs. This promotes healing.

 

Like a warm embrace, being in a more positive, receptive state raises my consciousness so I can feel more joy, gratitude, peace, playfulness, and grace. From those states, I can focus on manifesting more health, not just struggling through the fatigue and taking my medications on time. Sometimes that's all I can do, but I do it without judging myself and returning to wallow in self-pity. Victimhood robs me of hope.


Occasionally, my body just feels better, and that makes me feel happy. A more positive, receptive state is better for recovery. That much I know, but what is my default state of mind when I'm not paying attention? Before this illness, I would have said my default state was glass-half-full, or optimistic. Going through my illness, I can truthfully say my default state of mind is probably cautious and maybe slightly optimistic, but I can change that. How, you say? Asking yourself the right questions is helpful. Implementing activities you really enjoy can serve as a disruptor to a flat state of mind.


For example, I sometimes feel less than positive because I'm tired or hangry and get angry with myself. Instead, I crawl into bed and feel how delicious it is to lie down and sleep. Instead of wolfing down a meal, I choose to notice that the salad I made tastes extraordinary. Every bite sends ripples of pleasure to all of my senses.

 

One of my favourite disruptors is a coffee and treat day at local coffee shops. While I'm there, I get to spend a couple of hours writing. It feels glorious. I also found a guided gratitude journal that is more than a few steps up from the just-get-happy journals I've scorned in the past. This one is about being intentional about the positives in my life and expanding my consciousness. Maybe it was one of the quotes I read that spurred me to purchase it.

Your joy, your misery, your love, your agony, your bliss, lie in your hands. There is a way out. And the way out is in. It is only by turning inward that we can truly create a world of love, light, and laughter... Sadhguru

Thanks to my body and my feelings, I'm learning this is the truth. In moments of crisis, when everything freezes in time and space, it's almost impossible to imagine something good or positive coming out of our experience. If we can identify our feelings, check in with our bodies and allow them to inform us, a new reality begins.

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© 2022 - 2026 Alice Carlssen Williams. Content and visuals are copyrighted and not to be copied without authorization.

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