• If you don’t know what you need, start smaller.

• Keep the channel open. The knowing comes with practice.

• Change can feel unsafe and still be right.

• I can feel the discomfort and keep going.

• Focus grows where your nervous system feels safe.

• Notice, pause, return. This is training.

• Needing space isn’t avoidance. It’s pacing.

  Build capacity gently, then return when you’re resourced.

Yes, the road ahead might be hard. In fact, it probably will be. That’s not because you’ve chosen badly , it’s because anything worth committing to will stretch you.
And stretching feels uncomfortable.

So what if you could stop trying to make the uncertainty disappear, and instead make space for it?
Not as a problem to solve, but as a companion you’ll be walking with for a while.

When you look closely at your own reactions , you might not like what you see.
You see the impatience.
The defensiveness.
The shutting down.
And if you don’t have a way to hold that with compassion, reflection can slide into self-criticism.

This is where resilience comes in.
Not the kind of resilience that means “pushing through”, but the resilience to sit with what you see without collapsing into shame.
To notice: Yes, that reaction was mine. And yes, it came from somewhere real.

Radiness is often the last thing to arrive.
What comes first is fear.
And in Gabor’s language, fear is not the enemy: it’s a messenger.

You don’t need to eradicate that fear before you begin.
You only need to relate to it differently.

Awareness is not the same as regulation.
Knowing why you feel something is only one part of healing.
The rest lives in the body, in the nervous system that learned long ago to brace, to tense, to guard.