Remembering Who We Truly Are
- Jody Allen, LCSW
- 3 days ago
- 8 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
One Conscious Breath: Issue 09
Underneath the protecting. Underneath the performing. Underneath the surviving.
Our core self remains ~ whole, intact, untouched ~ patiently waiting to be remembered.
One Conscious Breath ~ Before We Begin
I invite you to take one conscious breath. Feel the cool air as it enters your nostrils. Follow it as deeply as it goes. Now pause. And then exhale ~ out through your mouth. Slowly. Fully. Elongate the release as far as you can. And as you exhale, feel your shoulders drop. Feel your cheeks soften. Wiggle your fingers. Wiggle your toes. Feel your feet firmly on the ground. In this exact moment, for this one conscious breath, feel that you are safe. In your body. Right here. Right now.
Taking one conscious breath and orienting ourselves back into safety within, in the present moment, allows us to feel, really feel, what present moment safety feels like in our bodies. One conscious breath at a time. And from this place of safety, one breath at a time, allows us to engage with whatever comes next from a more resourced place within. The more grounded you are as you read this, the more your nervous system will be anchored in the present now rather than the historic then. And the more open you will be to receive what your body is signaling to you.
So, one more conscious breath.
And when you're ready ~ let's begin.
In Issues 06, 07, and 08, we traveled through the territory of triggers and emotions and the internal rupture that inevitably follows when we are activated. We explored what a trigger signals within us, what it does to our nervous system and what it awakens in a younger part of us. And how ~ when we are courageously willing to turn toward it ~ the trigger offers us an opening within.
Which brings us precisely here.
To the question at the depth of all that activation.
If the trigger is the opening that pierces our wounded self ~ what's on the other side of the wound?
Clients often tell me they cannot differentiate their authentic self from their wounded self.
The truth is, when we have been living a certain way for so long, it begins to feel like it's who we are. It becomes so familiar, we really believe: this is my true self, this is who I am.
But it's not who we are. It is how we adapted.
And here is what I hope you are able to feel into today. Not just think about, but really feel into.
This wounded self was created, in service of our survival, before we had conscious choice. It's an amalgam of all of the outdated beliefs and trapped emotions that got stored in our mind and body over a lifetime. It was created in an attempt to keep us, our heart, our core Self, feeling safe in the world. Created before we grew up and had more capacity and access to all of the resources we have as an adult that we never had when we were younger.
The armor. The hypervigilance. The bracing. The performing. The people-pleasing. The shutting down. The collapse. All of these protections that once kept us feeling safe may now be keeping us disconnected from our fully resourced core Self.
That was then. And this is now.
Our authentic Self ~ our core Self ~ is not just a part of who we are.
It's our whole Self. The Self we were always meant to be. The Self that is untouched by any wounding, pain or confusion. The Self we were born into. And the Self that was protected in early childhood ~ not by choice, not by fault ~ but by necessity. As our inherent quest for connection and attachment took precedence in order to get our needs met. And survive.
The core Self was never wounded.
It was always protected.
The survival strategies were built around it. Never through it.
This is not a small distinction. It's the core teaching. And once you understand it and embody it, everything changes.
A dear client once offered me a metaphor that explains this level of protective layering beautifully. I've never forgotten it and use it often.
She described her healing journey as peeling off a wetsuit.
And living in California, having worn wetsuits, I understood this intimately. We wear wetsuits in the Pacific Ocean, as they are essential to swim and surf. They protect us against the cold water that would otherwise make entering the ocean unbearable. They are necessary and useful while we are in the ocean.
However, if we don't take them off when we return to the shore, they become cumbersome. And unnecessary.
What was essential in the water becomes constricting on land. In a wetsuit we cannot feel the warmth of the sun on our skin. Or breathe as deeply or easily. Even our movement is more fixed, less flexible. What was once protective in the water becomes a barrier on land.
Not because it was wrong to have worn it in the first place. But because the conditions that required it, what it was built for, no longer exist.
Which is what makes this metaphor so stunningly profound. So many of us are moving through our present day lives still wearing our proverbial wetsuits. We are now living in adult bodies, with more resources and choice, yet when triggered, a younger version of ourselves attempts to navigate our adult lives.
This younger, less resourced version of us had to attach to our caregivers, by any means necessary. This required us to adapt in ways that oftentimes went against our authentic nature. This adapted way of being ~ motivated by the need to survive ~ was brilliantly implemented. And it wired our brain and nervous system as a familiar way of being in the world.
This adaptation wasn't a conscious choice. Our bodies chose survival. But now it's time to remind our bodies that we survived. We have more choice now. More resources. And our bodies need to know we are safe. Safe to peel off the layering that once kept us feeling safe and attached, but is now inhibiting us from feeling into our fully resourced core, authentic Self.
The wetsuit, the false self, was brilliantly adaptive then, when we had no other resources or choice. We are not wrong for having worn it. And we are not broken for still wearing it.
But, we are safe now to take it off.
It might feel frightening to consider releasing something that feels like your authentic self. It is so familiar, right?
Our brain and nervous system are wired with familiarity ~ it helps us feel safe. But here is something important to recognize: what is familiar is not necessarily safe. Nor healthy. Nor authentic. And in order to grow and evolve and live life in presence, we must recognize and release what no longer benefits us.
So, how do we differentiate what our authentic, core Self is when we have lived a lifetime perhaps only sensing glimpses of it?
Here's how I differentiate: authenticity is easy. There's an ease, flow and flexibility within when we are living in connection with our core Self. We don't have to scan or change how we move through the world depending on who we are talking to or what situation we find ourselves in. We show up as we truly are in every relationship and situation that presents itself.
Life situations don't get easier ~ how we respond to them does.
If ease and flexibility are not how you are moving through the world right now, it may be an indication that layers of protection ~ once quite helpful ~ are now limiting your ability to move in this flow state. Limiting your ability to connect. With yourself, first and foremost. And then with others and the world.
This is not a character flaw.
This is simply what it feels like to be moving through your present-day life with the limited resources and protections that were very much needed when you were smaller, but are keeping you stuck now. Keeping you from being able to access your core, authentic Self.
Remember: the wetsuit is not you.
It was built around you. In service of you. When you were too small to know or do anything different. It was erected to protect something precious, something already intact, already whole: your core, authentic Self.
Just as Michelangelo knew the statue, David, already existed within the slab of marble. His work was not to create something new, but to reveal what was already there. To remove everything that wasn't David.
This is the work for us, too.
We don't need to construct a new Self. We're not even rebuilding something broken. We are simply, gently, courageously, patiently uncovering what's always been there.
Waiting. To be remembered.
And here is what I know from over two decades of sitting with people in their most undefended moments: the moment the wetsuit begins to come off ~ even just slightly ~ your true knowing returns. It's finally given the necessary space to re-emerge.
It feels like dropping your shoulders. Softening your cheeks. Opening your chest. A simple return to the awareness of your breath. A gentle ease that's not manufactured nor performed.
A sense of *ah. This is me.*
A remembering.
Because it was always there. Wholly intact. Untouched. Underneath everything that was built to protect it.
In the issues ahead, we will go deeper into what it actually looks and feels like to begin taking off the wetsuit ~ gently, sustainably, one layer at a time. But for now, let's feel into what is already here.
A Practice for This Week
Come back to your breath. Feel your feet on the ground.
Place one hand on your chest to bring your awareness there. And the other on your stomach, if it feels right.
Now take a very deep breath in.
I invite you to find the steadiness that lives deep within you. It's always there. Beneath the surface. Beneath the noise. Beneath any turbulence you may feel. Beneath everything that scans and manages and protects for you. Deep within there is a constant steadiness. Go slowly. With curiosity and compassion. One conscious breath at a time.
What do you notice as you go deeper? There is no right answer here. No wrong feeling. Just curiosity.
There is a depth to you. To us all. It's solid. Immovable. Like a mountain that doesn't resist the storm ~ it simply remains. And the storms come and go. The seasons change. All the while, the mountain remains. This same steadiness is always at our core. It's never been wounded and it can't be shaken. It was here before the pain. And it remains here, solid, through every storm since.
Stay here. Just for one more conscious breath.
This is not a state you have to earn or cultivate or become.
This is you. At your depth. Your core, authentic Self. Wholly intact. Untouched. Already here.
The more you orient toward this place ~ one conscious breath at a time ~ the more familiar it becomes. And the more familiar it becomes, the more your nervous system learns: this is home. This is safe. This is who I truly am.
All the protecting, all the survival, all the armor: that was then.
And this is now ~ You, connected to your core Self ~ it's been patiently waiting, deep within, for your remembrance.
Wholly intact. Always.
With love and one conscious breath,
Jody
**P.S.** — If you're new here: I'm Jody Allen, a somatic psychotherapist in San Francisco and Berkeley. These letters are where neuroscience meets the heart, the foundation of a book in progress. If someone forwarded this to you and it resonated, you can subscribe at jodyallenlcsw.substack.com. It's free. It always will be.
Comments