In this blog, I'll take you through my personal therapeutic journey.
Sometimes it seems as if life is challenging me to explore the same thing over and over again. During a recent Hakomi practice session with Alex, the theme came into sharp focus once more: the movement between reaching out and withdrawing.
Two parts of me.
One that wants to move forward. That wants to show itself. To make itself visible and truly take its place in the world.
And one who would rather withdraw. Make themselves invisible. And really just wants to disappear.
When Alex said to me: “All parts are welcome. And you are welcome, just as you are.”, I felt something gentle in my heart. A sense of emotion. But also… a hesitation. A part of me couldn’t quite let it in. Distrust. The question: “Does he really mean this? Doesn’t he say one thing and do another?”
Mixed messages are painfully familiar to me. They’re part of my history. And immediately I felt tension in my neck, a lump in my throat. As if there’s no place for my truth. As if—when I speak—I’m in danger. Won’t I be punished? Won’t my head be cut off? A primal sense of threat.
During that session, we discovered together the dual movement in my body.
On one hand: reaching out. Opening my arms and hands to the world. Exciting. Unfamiliar.
The other side: withdrawing. Making myself smaller, playing hide-and-seek. Familiar territory. Safe, but suffocating.
Alex invited me to slow down the reaching motion all the way.
With my hands on my heart, I began to move slowly. Openly. Invitingly.
Until suddenly… everything came to a halt. My hands couldn't go any further.
I opened my eyes. I looked at my hands. It was as if I were seeing them for the first time.
The image of a baby discovering its own hands for the first time came to mind. So tender. So new.
A youthful part of me awoke. Curious, but also wary. “Is anyone there? Will I be welcomed if I show myself?”
Sadness welled up. The pain of loss. Of being all alone when, as a baby, I reached out and no one answered.
And at the same time… a sense of emotion. Because this time is There really was someone there. Even through Zoom, I could feel it: I’m being seen. I’m being met.
And it's hard to put into words how that made me feel.
That deep, existential impulse: reaching out and being truly seen.
The difference between living and merely surviving.
As a baby, I was dependent. Vulnerable. A child whose reach goes unanswered instinctively withdraws.
Not out of weakness, but out of self-preservation.
But today I'm an adult.
I can now reach out to that little child inside me.
I can see, received, wear.
He doesn't have to do it alone anymore.
Never again.
We'll do this together.
Would you also like to discover the movements your body makes? How you reach out or pull back?
Welcome to the safe space of my practice. We’ll embark on this journey together, step by step, at your own pace.
🌀 Coming home starts with a gentle reach out.
👉 Schedule your free introductory consultation here
👉 Or explore my range of body-oriented therapies and growth programs at the listings page
