I've woken up the past few days more anxious than usual. Its a phase I've gone through a lot since starting my business.

Feeling behind. Experiencing time as a conveyor belt that will suddenly run out one day, dropping me and all my unfinished projects with it into the abyss below.

Whenever I'm jolted awake by these familiar thoughts & sensations, I usually reach for my release, reframe, exhale tools.

I steady my heartrate with some movement and belly breaths. I remind myself that capitalistic conditioning has lied to me about time & urgency. I ground myself in reminders of my progress & process.

Those tools are all good. Great. Helpful. I teach them & live by them.

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But today, my inner teacher asked me to notice something else beyond both the problem & the solution.

Beyond my individual experience.

To notice you.

A question came to me: "If I've been experiencing more anxiety, doubt, recurring runaway narratives lately, who else might be feeling this way too?"

Oh. Yeah... I'm probably not the only one.

Suddenly, gratitude, love, compassion, and belonging flooded me.

Before that moment, I was feeling so alone in my experience. Feeling like "getting rid of" my anxiety was the prerequisite to showing up today as a coach, educator, leader.

Feeling like until or unless I checked that box, I'd be a fraud? I'd be unhelpful? while holding client sessions, publishing content, creating curriculum.

The narrative tells me: I have all the tools, right? So, it's my responsibility to use them. Solve the problem. Demonstrate this works. There's truth to that.

But the pattern itself (experience problem + solve problem alone) had become a recurring single story, isolating me from the rest of you.

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One thing I loved about my high school teaching days was the immediacy with which I'd be jolted out of my own head, anxiety, and "bad" days.

Cuz, for better or worse, I was in that classroom with my young comrades. My problems had to come face to face with their problems, and immediately an opportunity for relationship & care would present itself.

I am one who melts into relationship & care every time. It is my superpower, being deliciously human, humorous, caring, encouraging, relational...

My problems were no match for my love for my people (and still aren't) ...

The group of old-school teachers trying to get me fired for teaching progressive curriculum (again)? The 3-day notice I came home to taped on my door (again)? My insomnia robbing me of 5.5 out of the 6.5 hours in a night's sleep (again)?

I'd say: "Ok problems, sit down for a sec, please. I'm trying to be a teacher here. These kids need me."

On a daily basis, my messy humanity collided into the same space, space waves with the humanity of 40 precious human beings every time I walked through that classroom door.

We'd turn on some Chance the Rapper, sing our way to the bell, do some morning circle talk, write our hearts out on the page. And somehow in the mess of it all, we'd find our way home. Home with each other. Tears layered with hugs. Frustrations met with nods, encouragement, and tough-love guidance when needed.

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Storytelling is relationship. Storytelling is care. Storytelling is gathering together so we don't have to do this all alone.

I shared this story with you because I wanted you to know you're not crazy if you're feeling even an ounce of these same things.

It's just hard sometimes. Times feel hard. We're doing hard things.

But I love you. I'm so proud of you. We got this.

Remember how I was feeling a little anxious and alone this morning? Talking to you on the page has grounded me into our connection.

I feel less alone now. I'd love for you to write back, tell me something good. Tell me something true. Tell me something that brings us a little closer together.