One of my favorite coaching moments from the past few months lasted maybe 30 seconds.

I noticed her speaking faster, saw what looked like tension, and heard multiple competing priorities that her brain was struggling to sort out. (Relatable.)

Instead of trying to fix it, I asked, What do you notice in your body?

Because problem-solving doesn’t address most distress, and it’s harder to access from that state anyway (curiosity requires a certain relaxation).

With a pause to notice what was happening, she said, “Oh, it feels like pressure, like an old panic from years. Something feels unfair.”

Without “doing anything” about it, something shifted organically.

In the external world, nothing had changed. The to-do list was the same. The unfairness was ongoing.

But noticing and naming shifted it from “something is wrong with me” to “I’m having a reasonable response to a challenging situation.”

Suddenly the emotional distress made sense. It wasn’t about being weak or out of balance personally. And instead of pressure to complete-the-list-as-fast-as-possible, there was clarity about taking care of herself.

The list still required some decisions. And now that old panic wasn’t going to make them for her.

A genuine smile instead of distress is great. But what I noticed most was that she trusted herself.

Self-trust isn’t about pushing the body as far as it can go. It looked like trusting her instincts in the situation that felt unfair. It looked like prioritizing her own needs in relationships that sometimes lean toward self-sacrifice.

And most importantly, self-trust looked like making space to allow the body to move through a difficult time without adding pressure.

​
​

To emphasize how small this moment was: having a coach provide a solution wasn’t what she needed. It was slowing down to notice what was happening, and then trusting that it was worth taking seriously and not brushing past.

Intellectual knowledge is great. And… it takes space and time to integrate it enough to access it in the tough moments.

That's why it’s possible to read all the books on a topic, listen to dozens of podcast episodes, and still respond the same when the stress shows up.

Learning is my favorite. But integration is where life actually starts to change.

Sometimes we imagine progress means waking up one morning with a whole new personality that never gets overwhelmed by a to-do list again.

But lasting change can look boring.

You notice something… let’s say tense shoulders, and you let a deeper-than-usual breath fill you up, or let a little something go that isn’t your responsibility. Or you decide to take a walk to reset and enjoy the finally less than roasting weather. You acknowledge that today's brain isn't yesterday's brain.

Tiny things, over and over.

Then one day a difficult moment happens, and you catch it earlier. What would have been a full meltdown becomes a quick cry. Or recovery takes an hour instead of the rest of the day.

We build self-trust through hundreds of miniature moments where we notice… respond to ourselves with curiosity… and discover that our nervous system is something we can work with instead of constantly fighting against.

Take care,

Mattia

p.s. Sometimes progress is realizing, halfway into the thought spiral, “Oh… I see what’s happening here.” That counts!