A Yearning for belonging

Some thoughts arrive like bad music—loud, looping, hard to ignore.

You didn’t ask for it.
It just starts playing.
Maybe it’s: “I’m not enough.”
“I’ll mess this up.”
“Nothing’s ever going to change.”

It gets in your body.
Tight chest. Racing heart. A knot in your stomach.

And what do we usually do?
Try to turn it off.
Run from it.
Yell at it.
Drown it out with noise.

But what if—
you didn’t fight the music?
What if you danced with it?

Here’s the practice:

When the thought shows up, pause.
Notice it. Name it. Gently: “Here’s that old tune again.”

Feel what it does in your body.
The urge to shut down.
The pull to believe it.

Now, instead of pushing it away—
give yourself permission to move with it.
Not as truth.
Not as enemy.
Just… as music.

And as you listen—really listen—
a yearning for belonging begins to rise.

Maybe it’s not just anxiety… maybe it’s longing.
Longing for something more honest.
More alive.
Perhaps it’s time to leave the job that’s been draining you.
Perhaps it’s time to write the book you’ve carried in your heart for years.
Perhaps it’s time to travel, to stretch your legs and your life.
To fill that quiet yearning with one small step,
one walk,
one run—toward what matters.

Maybe you sway.
Maybe you take a breath.
Maybe you just say, “You’re here. I see you. And I’m still moving.”

Dancing with the thought isn’t about deleting it.
It’s about loosening its grip.
Making space.
Letting the thought be there—without letting it lead.

Because you are not the song.
You are the dancer.
And you get to choose the next step.