Clearing Space for Growth

In all my years as a therapist, I’ve noticed how deeply so many people struggle to be alone.

There’s often a tendency to fill the quiet with distractions: tasks, to-do lists, noise—anything to avoid the discomfort that can arise in stillness.

But healing doesn’t always happen in the doing.

It often happens in the space between.

In the pause.

In those moments when we are finally present with ourselves—without an agenda.

Sometimes life—or heartbreak—empties us out.

It can feel like everything that once anchored us is gone.

People describe feeling hollow, uncertain, even lost.

But what if emptiness isn’t something to fear or rush to fill?

What if it’s a sacred space—an opening?

An empty vessel can hold more:

More love.

More truth.

More creativity.

More of who we really are.

Emptiness can become the fertile ground for what’s next to be born.

Why stillness can feel so hard

For many, emptiness can feel unbearable—not because there’s something wrong, but because the nervous system has been trained to associate stillness with danger, neglect, or loss.

In those cases, filling the space becomes a form of self-protection.

But with time, safety, and support, it’s possible to gently unlearn that reflex and begin to trust the quiet again.

Try this:

Set aside just five minutes today to sit in stillness.

No phone. No agenda. Just breathe gently and bring your awareness into your body.

Feel your feet on the ground. Let your breath move slowly in and out.

Notice what arises in the quiet.

A feeling. A memory. A sense of restlessness or calm. There’s no right way.

If something uncomfortable comes up, offer yourself kindness.

You might place a hand on your heart or belly and whisper something like:

“It’s OK to feel this. I’m safe now.”

When you’re done, take a moment to care for yourself. You might:

• Write down what you felt or learned in a journal

• Step outside and walk

• Shake out your hands or move your body

• Take a few grounding breaths, noticing what’s around you

Even the act of gently noticing is a healing practice.

You’re learning to stay with yourself in a new way.

If you’ve been feeling emptied by grief, transition, or loss, know that this space you’re in—however quiet, however uncomfortable—isn’t the end.

It may be the very beginning of something beautiful.

What might want to grow in the space that’s been cleared?