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It can be hard to return to ourselves and one another when we find ourselves caught 'in a thing' that's not life-giving - a tightness, stubbornness, grumpiness, an anger or rage or sourness or grudge, or indeed any way we're holding on to a feeling or idea long beyond its usefulness or appropriateness. The return is often hard because returning means facing ourselves and all the parts of us that might shame us as we come back. And it's often hard because returning can mean facing others with their expectations and longings, and perhaps their judgement too.

So how can we learn to be the ones that graciously and generously welcome ourselves and welcome others in those moments when we become unstuck from something that's been gripping us?

This week's Turning Towards Life is hosted as always by Lizzie Winn and Justin Wise of Thirdspace.

Turning Towards Life, a week-by-week conversation inviting us deeply into our lives, is a live 30 minute conversation hosted by Justin Wise and Lizzie Winn of Thirdspace.  Find us on FaceBook to watch live and join in the lively conversation on this episode. You can find videos of every episode, and more about the project on the Turning Towards Life website, and you can also watch and listen on Instagram, YouTube, and as a podcast on Apple, Google, Amazon Music and Spotify.

Here's our source for this week:

Soft again 
I am determined not to let these bold, feathery  trees,
With their Fancy Display of greens 
And wind blowing gently through their branches, 
Pull me back from all the swirling thoughts in my head. 
And this sunshine will not thaw the brittleness of my heart in this moment. 
I am determined not to let its warmth slip  through my defences and into my bones. 
I’m in a grumpy, ungenerous, grey-coloured mood and I’m going to stay that way. 
The relentless push and liveliness of the river flowing past me will not gently pick up my worries and carry them downstream. 
I am determined, you see, to hold onto my position. To maintain this stuckness. To keep myself rooted right here. 
The clouds drifting above my head, combined with the blue of the wide sky will not, I repeat, will not take any of my breath away. 
I am going to sit here, in this nearly-comfortable camping chair - and hold on tight. I am not going to be moved or softened. 
I have every right to work with all my might against these bright forces that are trying to melt me, to reach me, to remind me and bring me home. 
Like the rock that stands still at the bend of the river, I will not be moved. 
But - oh dear - now my children are jumping off a rock into the silky water of the river. They are full of courage and delight and they are letting out whoops of Yes towards the water below them as they push themselves forwards through the air. 
And my plan begins to crumble. 
With every whoop, my determination is less rock like and more like the small branch that is being swept away downstream and around the next corner, beyond which I cannot see. 
They’ve won again, all of them conspiring against me. The trees, the water, the clouds, the sun, and now the babies I gave birth to, who sit at the centre of my life as brilliant and undimmable lights. 
I breathe in the river air deeply (is there any air as fresh I wonder?) and start all over again for the millionth time and turn my face towards the sun. 
I am made soft again.

Hollie Holden
www.instagram.com/hollieholdenlove

Photo by Lizzie Winn