Dear Alessa:

I just checked the timing of your most recent post, it was submitted only 1 minute after mine. I am guessing you didn’t read my most recent reply to you (double posting).

Are you satisfied with my decision to not quote members anymore?

❤️ 🌿 Anita

Perhaps a moment to pause…

Creating space where someone can fully feel what they feel, without the need to fix or challenge, is i feel a meaningful expression of both safety and bravery.

I appreciate that some may view their engagement in conflict as defending boundaries and standing up for oneself. And that’s valid, boundaries are essential. At the same time, I see holding tension without rushing to resolution as a form of boundary too, one rooted in presence, patience, and respect for complexity.

To me, a safe and brave space isn’t always about agreement or resolution of conflict. Sometimes it’s about allowing conflict to be witnessed and held, which is not the same as being silenced. That kind of space honors both the boundary of self-expression and the boundary of restraint… the courage to stay present with what’s unresolved.

Honoring conflict without needing to fix, smooth over, or silence can be an act of deep respect. It asks us to stay present with discomfort, to trust that tension itself can be fertile ground for growth.

What might it mean to hold space for what’s unresolved, not as a problem to solve, but as something sacred to witness?

Dear Anita and Alessa,

just a quick note: I want to reply to both of you, but it will be only later today.

Till later, have a nice day!

Hi Alessa
Thank you for sharing so honestly. I hear the weight of what you’re carrying and the very real need to protect your well-being, especially as a parent navigating PTSD and the demands of care. Your boundaries are valid, and I am impressed with the clarity you’ve named them.

After I posted, even though I stand by what I said, I felt the urge to pull it because I realized how easily even well-intentioned words can land in ways we don’t expect. Especially in spaces where people are hurting and trying to be heard as they attempt to create healthy boundaries… despite the impulse to stay out of it, I wanted to be brave and offer a third way…

Last night, watching the news, I saw story after story of people being canceled, offended, and offended that they were offended where no one seemed to be listening, to others or themselves! It struck me how quickly communication can devolve into fight or flight reaction, how contagious it is… how easy it is to become what we fear, to become that which be fight, to mirror the very dynamics we’re trying to heal.

I’m not saying that’s what’s happening here. In fact, I see Tiny Buddha as a space where healing is possible especially when we feel the pain of not being understood, not heard the way we wish to be heard, not seen as we long to be seen…

When I first saw the title of this thread — Safe and Brave — it felt like a contradiction. Bravery isn’t acting without fear; it’s feeling the fear and showing up anyway. And safety, I’m learning, might not mean comfort or agreement, but the kind of space where we’re allowed to get it wrong and still be held.

For me the question is: Can we hold space for conflict, not to resolve it immediately, but to honor it as part of the process? Can we stay present with the discomfort of misunderstanding, and trust that something meaningful might still grow there?…

Anyone who’s taken a yoga class knows holding tension in a posture isn’t easy or comfortable. But through breath and practice, we grow stronger. It’s still uncomfortable, but we learn that discomfort is okay. We’re okay as we are, even in our failings, maybe especially because of them.

I see Tiny Buddha as a kind of yoga… a place to practice presence, compassion, and the art of staying with what’s hard. That’s what makes it brave. That’s what makes it safe, and you’re a important part of that.

Last night as I worried about the worlds news that thought that I found myself asking… If we can’t hold and trust the process of conflict in this space, if we can’t forgive here, what hope is there? Are we only adding to the very contagion of division we see in the world?

I hope you don’t leave.