STOP CENSORING YOURSELF IN THE NAME OF WISDOM
Close to the Bone ....The other day, someone close to me said:
“I just don’t want you to get upset… Because you know that saying about accepting the things you cannot change….”
Okay, yeah, this sounds reasonable. It’s one of those proverbs you find echoed across cultures and religions. The irony, of course, is that this saying is basically my gospel.
At Impact Sweet Spot we put it like this: When you face the things you cannot change, you become great at changing the things you can.
But what I see is that sometimes this “wisdom” gets twisted into something else. A subtle, silencing message:
“Don’t feel what you’re feeling.”
Suffice it to say, that’s how it was received in above-mentioned conversation. Like many of us, I’ve been on the receiving end of well-meant (but misguided) support many times.
Thinking back to my teens, I was angry and upset about the injustices I saw in the world (and those were the “glorious nineties” in the West, go figure). I probably wasn’t always tactful in expressing it, often veering toward the preaching side. But my distress was rarely met with compassion or real interest, let alone encouragement. It was more the rolling eyes that I sensed.
When Redemption Came KnockingOnly long into adulthood did I discover that there is an alternative response: appreciation for the caring itself, which is an essential foundation for societal change.
Because the pain and anger didn’t go away. What stayed with me was the concern that I was wrong for caring so much. That I was too much, and should tone it down.
So, let’s clear this up (because it can’t be said enough): accepting what you can’t change does not mean bypassing your emotions.
Anger at injustice is a sign you care.
Sadness at loss is a sign you loved.
Frustration is a sign you are invested.
When we suppress those signals of caring, we become smaller, not wiser. Less free in our bodies and minds to act. Over time, that self-censorship manifests in the body: tightening the chest, clouding the mind, constricting the heart. It can leave us exhausted, distorted, disconnected from our essence.
When someone comes to me with burnout, this is one of the first places I invite them to explore. And I’ve seen the strength that comes when people are given permission to be fully human.
Oops I Did It AgainThe bad news for the social perfectionists among us: learning to be real can feel like a dance with two left feet.
Expressing your pain might include actions that are unhelpful, messy, even hurtful. You might do or say something that pushes someone away or makes the situation more complicated in that moment.
And your environment might not appreciate your newfound honesty and kindly remind you, “you’re not being yourself today.” (ouch)
As someone who deeply values kindness and patience, I’ve had to accept that I cannot embody those qualities all the time. Sometimes I am blunter, more direct, less tactful than I wish to be. And while I’ve softened with age, I still catch moments where my behaviour doesn’t match even my own philosophy – it’s that uncomfortable oops moment.
But what if this belongs too?
Though these moments may come from reactivity, they are still part of the expression. Piling guilt and shame on top — the most counterproductive ingredients — makes everything worse.
So instead of treating my behaviours as evidence of failure, I try to let them flow downstream with the feelings that preceded them. They lose their force naturally, instead of damming them up inside where they grow stagnant. (If you know Impact Sweet Spot, you know the river is one of our favourite characters).
Into The WildResilience is born when we meet the mess as it is. Not as we need it to be, tidied up so it feels “manageable”. Both within yourself, and in others.
Then, the body clears. The distortion eases. And only then can you ask:
Is there action I can take?
Or is this one of those things I must meet with peace — for now anyway?
If you want support in this, you can of course reach out to me. But in any case, share with someone or something (a piece of paper, your voice recorder) that won’t censor you, that is willing to ride the storm with you.
That, more than anything, will keep you connected to your deepest power to make a difference, while keeping your balance in rocky times.
Suggestions for further reading:The shoulders of those upon which we stand
Becoming aware of this has become a humble crusade for me – my own form of activism. Luckily, I am one of many. And if you want to read more on this, the people I’d recommend to check out include Joanna Macy, Tara Brach, Audre Lorde, Gabor Maté, Valarie Kaur, bell hooks, and Resmaa Menakem — each, in their own way, has written powerfully about the intersection of wisdom, compassion, and embodied justice. Whole sectors like climate psychology and climate coaching are also offering support and knowledge in this terrain.
