Imagine a thunderstorm that is happening right outside your house; there’s a wall separating you two yet it is still remarkably close to you. You remain untouched sitting in the comfort of your chair that’s hugging you and keeping you still, looking at the window, appreciating the rainfall and feeling the warmth of your long sleeve shirt and high knee socks and hands wrapped around an essential hot mug. This comfort becomes disturbed with the idea that as you lay comfortable within the parameters of your home, you’re reminded that some folks are homeless, others are lacking the resources for warmth, some are stuck somewhere, and that no matter what they must have it worse than you; and in that moment that warmth suddenly starts to feel a bit cold.

It’s interesting how we act both as a tribe and as individuals. When the tribe is hurting, the pain that has been swimming inside of us decides to take a shorter lap to keep the energy reserved for those who need it more and the most. So what could this “other people need it more than me” mean to us? And why does it matter?

Our current time poses questions about our available resources and how well we use or abuse them. This can be something as simple as thinking twice before buying a warm drink to taking the step of seeking therapy to ask for support for individual needs.

Sometimes, people think their problems aren’t big enough to be talked about, but really, it might be a way of cleverly justifying not dealing with those issues. It’s not uncommon for individuals to downplay the significance of their problems, almost as if comparing the weight of their struggles to an imaginary built balance that pings you when you’re taking up more space than you should. Yet, this comparison is merely a self-justification to maintain the status quo. Consider it a bit like the tip of an iceberg – what’s visible might seem small, but beneath the surface, there can be profound complexities that are buried deep down. However, there must be a relief somewhere in denying attention to our problems, like turning away from an uncomfortable truth that as long as it’s tucked away and no one is seeing it, then it will tamper down on its own and maybe it won’t matter anymore. This avoidance, akin to focusing on others or seeking external validation, often conceals parts of ourselves that have long yearned for acknowledgment and healing.

So, we go on a detour to seek comfort through a different – familiar – route. Whether seeking solace in substances, our devices, the vastness of the internet, or the ceaseless rhythm of overwork, we persist in attempting to mute the ache that resonates within. We may go on in this survival mode for years, working hard and missing that fulfillment piece that usually comes when we reach a certain milestone.

Picture those concealed aspects, hesitant to emerge due to a perceived lack of worthiness, envisioning the immense, substantial section of the iceberg hidden from view. Our limited perspective, akin to tunnel vision, restricts us to acknowledging only the visible fragments above the water’s surface while the depth under is yearning to be seen, even if it was just for just 45 minutes in a well-decorated room and on a comfortable couch surrounded by pillows to be embrace with that someone who you call your therapist.