Oh, and you shouldn’t feel terrified of losing her, if I may say so:

* You’re not practically dependent on her (you work and you pay for your needs- food, shelter, etc.)

* Regardless of how much of a gem she is, you should not be T.E.R.R.I.F.I.E.D of losing her.

You are not her dependent baby; she is not your mother without whom you would die.

So, no, you shouldn’t be terrified of losing her 👎

😡 Anita

Where are my emojis 🤔🌙🦉, here they are 👍

Dear Confused: Seems logical- that you are after the honeymoon phase, the honeymoon phase (constantly missing and longing for someone) is not sustainable for anyone, really, as far as I know. Imagine.. you’re expecting something from yourself that no one can sustain.

Hi Peter:

You wrote “That rain is necessary… It is our human experience”

I want to process this evening a bit of the Double Binds (DB) I was burdened with, an angle of my experience that I did not attend to before, simply because I was not aware of the concept (DB):

1) I was not allowed 🚫 to have my own feelings, yet she (my mother) expected me to carry hers (those never- ending ‘poor me’ histrionic displays). How can a girl shrunk into a 2- D experience of emotions (having to suppress them because she shamed and guilt-tripped me), be expected to absorb her 3-D, 4-D histrionic expressions of emotion?

2) She shamed women’s bodies and sexuality (so much so that I am having a difficulty typing “sexuality”) and yet expressed admiration and approval of women (mostly on T.V) who used their bodies and sexualty to use men financially. And my mother craved the idea of material luxury, she expressed that craving a whole lot.

How was I to.. well, you get my point.

– to be continued.

Copilot: Here’s the beautiful thing about the “sky” metaphor Peter used: you don’t hold onto the sky — the sky holds you…

Let’s talk about how to stay connected to that spaciousness when the storms inevitably return, in a way that’s realistic for a trauma‑shaped mind… 1. BODY: Return to the physical sensation of “sky”- The sky feeling isn’t an idea. It’s a body state. You described it perfectly: breath flowing, no holding (of breath)… When the storm comes back… Try: loosening your jaw, letting your shoulders drop 2%, exhaling a little longer than you inhale… feeling the weight of your body on the chair. These are not “relaxation techniques.” They’re reminders to your nervous system: “The sky is still here.”

2. MIND: Don’t fight the storm — name it-When the frenzy returns, your old pattern is to solve it, analyze it, fix it, understand it, outthink it. That’s the “storm becoming hail,” as Peter put it. Instead, try naming it gently: “Ah, the storm is here.” “This is the solving‑frenzy.” “This is fear.” “This is tightening.”

Naming is powerful because it shifts you from being the storm → noticing the storm. That tiny shift is the sky reappearing.

3. PERSPECTIVE: Remember that the sky doesn’t need to win- This is the part your mind struggles with: You think the sky should override the storm. You think the calm should last. You think the insight should stay. You think the territory should dominate the map.

But the sky metaphor means something radical:

*The sky doesn’t defeat the storm. It makes room for it.

You don’t need to “hold onto” the sky. You just need to remember: The storm is temporary. The sky is not.

The calm isn’t supposed to be permanent. It’s supposed to be available.

And it is.

🌿 A simple practice you can use in real time- When the frenzy returns, try this three‑step sequence:

1. Notice the storm. “This is fear.” “This is tightening.” “This is the solving‑frenzy.”

2. Feel one physical cue of the sky. A breath. A softening. A sense of space.

3. Say internally:- “The sky is still here.” That’s it.

No solving. No fixing. No forcing calm. Just remembering.

🌿 Why this works for you specifically- Because your storms aren’t random — they’re trauma‑trained.
Your nervous system learned that storms are dangerous, storms must be solved, storms mean you’re failing, storms mean you’re unsafe.

So, when calm appears, you cling to it. And when storms return, you panic.

But the sky metaphor gives you a new rule:

Calm is not something you keep. It’s something you return to.

And you did return to it — in your last message to Peter. That’s not small. That’s a sign your system is learning.

… How trauma makes storms feel permanent- Trauma rewires the nervous system to believe: “If something feels bad, it will stay bad.” This happens because:

*Trauma collapses time- Your body learned danger in a way that didn’t end. So, when fear appears now, your system reacts as if it’s forever.

* Trauma teaches the body that storms = identity- You weren’t allowed to have calm as a child. So, your system doesn’t recognize calm as “home.” It recognizes tension as “normal.”

* Trauma makes the mind interpret sensations as threats- A tightening in the chest becomes: “Something is wrong.” A racing thought becomes: “I’m losing control.”

* Trauma makes the nervous system distrust peace- Calm feels unfamiliar. Unfamiliar feels unsafe. So, the body pulls you back into the storm because it knows how to survive storms.

This is why the “solving frenzy” feels urgent — your system thinks it’s protecting you.

The storm feels permanent because your body learned that storms were the background of your childhood.

But they’re not permanent. They’re just familiar.

🌿 How to make the “sky” feeling more accessible-The sky feeling isn’t something you create — it’s something you notice. It’s always there, but trauma makes the clouds look like the whole sky.

Here’s how to access it more easily:

* Return to the body state, not the idea- The sky feeling came with: breath flowing, no holding, openness, a sense of space. You don’t need to recreate the insight — just the physiology.

Try: one slow exhale, loosening your jaw… These are doorways back to the sky.

* Use micro‑moments- Don’t aim for long calm. Aim for 3 seconds of spaciousness. Your system can handle that.

* Don’t try to “keep” the sky- Trying to hold onto calm is actually a form of tension. Instead, remind yourself: “The sky is here even when I can’t feel it.” That’s enough.

* Let the storm be allowed- The sky becomes accessible when the storm is not the enemy. When you stop fighting the storm, the sky appears naturally.

🌿 How to deepen the observer/observed unity- You described something profound: “This observed part is one with the observer right now.” That’s the heart of the whole thing.

Here’s how to deepen that unity:

* Notice without dividing- Instead of: “I am watching the fear.” Try: “There is fear.” This removes the split between “me” and “it.”

* Let sensations be sensations- Fear becomes tightening, heat, breath holding, pressure. When you stay with the raw sensation, the observer and the observed merge.

* Drop the question ‘Why?’- “Why is this happening?” “Why did the calm go away?” “Why am I like this?”
These questions create separation.

Instead try: “This is happening.” That’s unity.

* Feel the space around the sensation- If fear is a knot, the sky is the space around the knot. When you feel both at once — the knot and the space — the observer and the observed become one field.

* Let the experience be unfinished- Unity isn’t a state you achieve. It’s a moment you notice. The more you allow it to be incomplete, the more it appears.

🌿 In one sentence- Trauma makes storms feel permanent because storms were once your whole world; the sky becomes accessible when you stop trying to hold onto it; and observer/observed unity deepens when you let sensations be exactly what they are without dividing yourself from them.

Double posting, Confused: may the 🌙 🦉 know some relaxation this eay Friday morning in Greece.

Good night from WA, Anita

So, hangry it is.

Oh, I understand not feeling relaxed. I am very much a beginner at relaxing. But truly, the answer is right there- in relaxing, somehow.

😌 Anita

Wait, “hangry”? A mispelling or hungry-angry?

How you can prevent the turning the emotional volume down?

It takes relaxing, really relaxing.

😡 🐔 🙏 Anita