Name the feeling, then sit with it

A blur in the chest is harder than a word. Sad. Angry. Scared. Lonely. Tired of being strong. Say it, even if only to the room.

Then sit. Don’t rush to a lesson. The lake doesn’t argue with the mountain. It holds the shape until the light changes.

This isn’t wallowing. This is refusing to swallow a feeling whole and call it fine. Fine is a lid. Lids rattle.

If the feeling is a plan to harm yourself, or a darkness that won’t lift for days, naming isn’t enough. Help is in the nav. Tell a person. Stay.