A softening
As the world was uprooting and transforming itself in 2020, I created an intention to soften. I was tired. Tired of being reactive. Tired of my inner critic jumping to conclusions before my heart could weigh in. Tired of ignoring the voices of my ancestors and inner children who were longing to be heard.
Just before the covid-19 pandemic started I’d joined a creativity group with Mosaiceye to nurture my intention. In the sanctity of that small, inspiring group of creatives, I began to indulge my imagination through storytelling, honor my rich dream life through a dedicated morning pages practice, and discover my breath through daily meditation.
As part of the group, we each had three 1:1 sessions with
, the Founder of Mosaiceye. In my first session, Chetna guided me into somatic noticing—something I didn’t have words or experience for at the time. Through their skilled guidance, I slowly noticed and named what I felt in my body. At first it was confusing. I didn’t have language for the sensations—a buzzing? a vibration? a pulse?—and often didn’t believe myself. Am I actually feeling anything, or am I just making shit up?But Chetna is trustworthy and highly competent, so I trusted the process. I felt energy—heat—move into my face. She invited me to gently place the palms of my hands on my cheeks. Almost instantly, I felt Mimi. My hands became her hands. I felt her beholding me from the spirit side, lovingly seeing me. Tears started pouring from a place deep within. A release, a reconnection. When I opened my eyes, stunned by what I’d just experienced—via Zoom nonetheless!—I sensed my life was on the brink of transformation.
When the creativity group concluded after three months, I wasn’t finished. I’d gotten a taste of what it felt like to soften, but there was still armor to release. This “armor”—a layer I’d constructed to hide my sensitive parts—looked like furrowed brows, squinty eyes, pursed lips, a vibe of judgment or avoidance. And it was getting heavy.
Through four years of regular 1:1 sessions with Chetna, I’ve come to respect my armor. I built it and wore it for reasons that made my nervous system feel safer. But I’ve also released it. I’ve softened.
Softening hasn’t always been easy or inviting, especially through heartbreak. The 15 months from July 2021 - October 2022 were the most heart-wrenching of my life. Even today as I write this, I notice my heartbeat quicken and a twist of nausea strike my upper abdomen. Two of my closest people betrayed me. They both, separately, didn’t just lie to me but concocted false realities and manipulated me into them. The first betrayal revealed itself in July 2021, the second in August 2021. Over the following year, I was forced to face both people almost every day, while one ignored my existence and refused to apologize, and the other continued to lie to me until I had to sever him from my life after 11 years of relationship. I lost my beloved grandfather in May 2022, another crack in my core. And when I thought I’d found enough space to start healing in November 2022, a family member released a sudden burst of rage onto me—the culmination of a pattern I’d endured my whole life. Most likely the pattern that led me to construct my armor in the first place. My heart was shredded.
It’s been two years. I have been loved and cared for so well in that time—both by myself and others—but the grief is still alive. I wish I could exorcise it and trust me, I’ve tried. But despite the pain it causes, I feel deep gratitude for the grief. Because I can feel it.
People always assume I’m a crybaby when they learn I was born at the peak of Cancer season, but behind my armor, I rarely cried. At the movies with friends in my pre-teens I would fake cry, rubbing my eyes red. But the tears were always there, waiting for a release. Every so often, they would crash through me in waves, usually in response to the aforementioned sudden bursts of rage.
But by July 2021, I had been softening through somatic practice for a year. In heartbreak, I became a puddle. At times I would just be going about my life while tears poured from me; other times I would feel them waiting for release, and as soon as I saw Chetna on Zoom, tears fell. I would cry, cry, cry in the safety of that one-hour container.
Today I feel as soft as a baby bunny, as sensitive as a soft-shell crab. I almost never wear my armor, but when it tries to creep back onto my body, I inquire with it, consider what’s going on that’s putting my nervous system on alert.
I’m proud of my softening; I enjoy how it looks and feels on me. People often comment now on how I “am so chill,” “look so peaceful,” “feel so safe,” and—most recently—“have the most genuine energy of anyone I’ve met in this city.” (🙏) This doesn’t mean that I’m not fierce, but as MLK encouraged, I try to “combine the toughness of the serpent with the softness of the dove.”
I intend to stay this way, to see just how soft one life can be. But I’ve recently noticed that my anti-racist organizing practice hasn’t fully adapted to my softer approach. With armor came a righteousness that almost made it “easier” to organize: once I learned the history of police, the answer was easy: Abolish the Police! When I saw the Democratic Party’s hypocrisy, the solution was obvious: Denounce the Two-Party System! And so on…
But in my soft state, I feel more empathy for how difficult it might be for people to release the beliefs and behaviors they’ve been socialized into. I get how it can feel arduous and isolating to be one of the only people trying to change the status quo in your community. I feel how unnerving it is to denounce the two-party system when the implications of a policy agenda like Project 2025 are so scary. Two fundamental beliefs have emerged from my softening, which feel more complex and nuanced for anti-racist organizing:
The capacity to hold many things as true is more important than proclaiming the truth.
All over, we see and hear people organizing around the truth as they see it. But “the truth” is that many things are true.
I don’t hate people; I hate their socialization.
All over, we see and hear people organizing around their contempt for those evil people. But “the truth” is that we have all been socialized in very similar ways. We are all capable of harm. And we are all capable of change.
I’ll have more to say in the coming months on these beliefs and what it’s like to hold them right in the center of my soft, smushy heart. But for now, I’m sitting with curiosity about what it might look like and how it might feel to get organized with people whose truths are very different from mine, and whose socialization I may despise, but who I love nonetheless.
And so, my love, how might you hold many truths in this politically divisive environment? How might you notice what your armor feels like and get into relationship with it? How might you soften into a culture of care, so that one day our babies will never know armor beyond history books?
With care,
Alyssa
Resource Share
If you are feeling called toward your own softening (or other form of healing that’s right for you), I encourage you to consider a therapeutic or coaching relationship that centers body and breath (somatic) awareness. It’s probably pretty obvious that I highly recommend Chetna’s services, but if that doesn’t feel right or accessible to you, I also strive to center these practices in my coaching services, which you can learn about on my website.
Loved this so much. Quite resonant. thank you for sharing.
Beautiful piece!