Sensing Without Shame: A follow-up to “Permission to Be.”

The Power of Noticing

A few days after writing my blog, Permission to Be: Nothing to Say, Still Writing, I became interested in the phrase: sensing without shame.

I reflected on what moved through me that time while i was writing. The calmness. The stillness. The content.
Then the rising push to move through.
The disappointment. The curiosity. The sadness.
And ultimately, the choice to let it be. To step away.
A neutrality to it—it is what it is.
I felt what I felt. And that’s okay.

Granted, the stakes are low for me in writing blogs. This is enjoyable. It isn’t a source of income. It’s an exploration. That gives me room to explore and sense what’s coming up. Freedom to choose anything.

I thought about working with people and the shame that sometimes comes with emotions.
The “I don’t feel motivated”—and that’s a bad thing.
The “I’m disappointed in myself, and I feel shame.”
Or, “I feel shame because I couldn’t do the thing.”
Or, “I don’t want to feel sad about this!”

Oftentimes, it’s the meaning we make of our sensations, emotions, and experiences that burdens us even more.
The layers of interpretation. The meaning-making.

While writing the previous blog, I noticed that what I was doing was, in itself, an exercise. Of noticing. Somatic embodiment. Mindfulness.

I think the underlying thread in all of this is the acceptance of who we are.

If we can accept that—in this moment, this is who I am—we move with more ease. More curiosity. More freedom.

And in that freedom, we’re met with choice.

When we do this, maybe we can start to notice what comes up inside—thoughts, emotions, sensations—and move through it.
This is human.
To flow through experience.
We are in motion.
And when we slow down, we’re still in motion. But we may begin to feel the things we would miss if we sped through.

Why This Might Be Helpful

This kind of writing slows us down. In a world that often pushes us to be productive, certain, or polished, slowing down and sensing can feel unfamiliar or even uncomfortable. It is in that slowness that we begin to notice what’s actually happening within us. And when we can notice that, we can experience ourselves as our own compass.

Rather than getting caught in judgment or pressure to feel a certain way, this practice invites you to meet your experience as it is. You might notice thoughts, emotions, sensations. And instead of labeling them as good or bad, you can simply observe them. This builds gentleness., space, and trust.

Writing in this way may help:

  • Soften shame and self-criticism

  • Strengthen the connection between body and mind

  • Bring awareness to parts of you that don’t always get heard

  • Create more ease in being with what’s here

  • Offer choices, rather than pressure, about how to respond

You don’t have to force clarity or insight. You don’t have to be motivated or healed or inspired. You can just be. This writing is a way to practice that.

Disclaimer: The reflections and exercises shared in this blog are not a substitute for therapy or professional mental health support. This writing is intended for general exploration and personal reflection only. If you are in need of therapeutic support, I encourage you to reach out to a licensed mental health professional.

Writing Exercise: Sensing Without Shame

A note before you begin: Sensing without shame doesn’t mean you won’t feel shame. It’s not about getting rid of anything. If shame comes up, that too is part of the experience—something to notice, feel, and write from. The practice here is to sense what’s present without adding judgment or layering shame on top of what’s already there. Even shame can be sensed without shame. And if at any point this becomes like a lot, it’s okay to pause or step away. That, too, is an act of care. We exist in multiplicities and if things keep coming up, that’s okay!

  1. Gather your materials and set a timer.
    Choose either a blank sheet of paper or a writing document on your device. Truth be told, I typed the previous blog.
    Part of me wants to encourage pen and paper, there’s research showing it can have a deeper impact, but it's your choice. Setting a timer helps hold a frame and gentle boundary for yourself. (You may consider beginning with 5-10 minutes).

  2. Check in with your body.
    Before writing, pause.
    Notice what it’s like in your body to begin.
    Pay attention to your sensations. Comfort or discomfort. Thoughts. Feelings.

  3. Say to yourself:
    “I accept how I am in this moment.”
    (Even if part of your acceptance means knowing that it’s hard to accept who you are in this moment.)

  4. Begin writing.
    Write anything that comes up for you. Follow the trailhead.

  5. If something new arises, try naming it like this:

    • “Another part of me is experiencing this.”

    • “A part of me notices this.”

  6. Pause whenever you feel like you “have to write.”
    Use the pause to return to your body.
    What are you experiencing now?
    Name it.
    Then write about that experience. (Example: I feel a part of me trying so hard to write about something.)

  7. Continue for the remaining time.
    Let your writing be whatever it is.
    Notice what it’s like to write about your inner experience.
    See if there’s a difference between writing about your thoughts and writing from your body.

  8. When you’re done, close gently.
    Notice how you feel.
    Say again to yourself: “I accept how I am in this moment.”

    Notice what it is like to create space for yourself, to be open to whatever unfolds within you.

    Close the frame, take a deep breathe and carry on with what comes next for you

  9. Return to this in a few days if it feels right.
    Revisit your writing.
    Notice what you experience.

-Imuri

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