Growth doesn’t always come from pushing.

There is a part of your brain called the Reticular Activating System, or RAS.

One of its main roles is filtering the enormous amount of information coming at you at all times, and helping decide what gets your attention.

What’s interesting is, it looks for information that confirms a core belief you have. And it ignores the rest.

This means, if somewhere deep down you hold the core belief I’m not enough, your brain will become incredibly good at noticing the evidence that confirms this, while overlooking the evidence that contradicts it.

This is why change, big change, happens when we work at the level where the core beliefs are held. Deep in the subconscious, beyond the conscious mind, the busy mind, the ego.

Accessing those areas of yourself, and meeting the limiting beliefs held there, can be uncomfortable at times. And not a journey everyone makes. But my initial training in Chinese medicine has always taught me to find the ‘root’ of the pain.

And so a big part of what I do in any session, is sensing the delicate timing of when to gently push someone out of their comfort zone.

And when not to.

I had two experiences this week while working with clients that reminded me of the different variations, moments and opportunities for growth.

Because we tend to think growth comes from pushing. From action, force, speed and sacrifice.

Push through the fear. Do the thing. Go further. Try harder.

And sometimes it does. Sometimes that push is exactly what we need.

But in many ways, I see growth happening in pure stillness and softness.

Sometimes there is this perfect moment when enough safety, trust and holding has been created for someone to feel brave enough to allow something to happen.

It isn’t pushing or forcing. It’s in the kindness. The holding. The trust. The pause.

It’s creating a space where someone can fall a little deeper into themselves. Where they can soften beyond the protective parts and the beliefs they hold.

And you have to remember, because these core beliefs are deep, a whole life has been built upon them.

Both of the people I worked with this week had quite rigid beliefs around what they had capacity for. What was true for them. Where their limit was.

One client had not had a positive experience with breathwork in the past, and even though he was curious to try again, he was adamant that he knew his limit and his capacity.

Some of the sensations that can be experienced during active breathwork were similar to sensations he had experienced with a chronic health condition.

Understandably, there was a part of him that felt apprehensive. Unsure.

But there was another part of him that was curious. The curious part won and he wanted to try again. Ready to explore himself within that space between where he was and something slightly heightened.

In his previous experience, when those sensations had appeared, he had been told to go faster. Push through. Ignore them.

I’m not saying this should never be the approach. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t.

The important part, as a facilitator, is knowing the difference.

Not making someone else’s experience about you. Not needing a particular result or a big reaction to feel like something has been achieved.

Because in his previous experience, pushing had done the opposite of what was intended.

He froze. Fear took over and his body went into protection mode.

Nothing happened.

In fact, that experience had given him more evidence for the belief he already had.

I can’t do this. My body can’t handle this. This isn’t safe for me.

So this time, I wasn’t going to push him through anything.

I wanted to show him that less can be more. That softness can be strong and powerful. That surrendering can sometimes take you somewhere pushing and forcing can’t.

So we stayed curious.

During the breathwork, as he started to feel things happening, we took it slowly and let the apprehensive part of him see that it was being listened to, while the curious part got to explore a little further.

There was no big push. No come on, you can do this!

And very gradually, something shifted.

He experienced sensations he had believed he couldn’t tolerate. The breathing took him to the point he wasn’t able to reach before, and he had a beautiful energetic release.

Something from the past. Something around his expression. Something shifted.

And he was okay. It felt cathartic and powerful. He felt in control and lost in himself at the same time.

It was gentle. Kind. Soft.

I think Instagram has done a real job on what we think breathwork is supposed to look like.

It doesn’t have to look like someone going through a huge, dramatic, cathartic experience for something profound to be happening.

I’ve had some of my most profound experiences with breathwork and plant medicine when they were subtle and gentle.

The experience itself was slight. The message and healing were gigantic.

A primal scream isn’t always what’s needed.

The second client I worked with had been very much conditioned not to access or express her emotions because of the environment she was raised in.

We were doing some bodywork whilst having an intimate conversation about her story, and something very gently activated an emotion in her.

She was surprised, shocked even, at how easily it came up.

And then I watched another part of her arrive. The part that wanted to resist it. Fight it. Explain it away. Pull herself back together.

I could see the two parts struggling with each other and sharing the same space.

I knew that less was more. And so I didn’t say a word.

I just placed my hand gently on her and gave her the space to wriggle through the discomfort until eventually the tears won and began to softly flow.

And that was the reason she was there. That was the release she had needed. That was the story she needed to change.

It just took 90 minutes of acupuncture and fascia work to create enough space and softness for her to feel open enough to let go.

My silence and comfort created a new belief within her.

A different piece of evidence.

I can show someone my emotions and nothing bad happens.

They don’t reject me. They don’t punish me. They don’t walk away.

That’s huge.

Because you can tell yourself something is safe a thousand times. But experiencing that safety is different.

I know this from my own experience too.

Doing my breathwork training a couple of years ago became part of my own journey back into myself.

It showed me parts of my body I couldn’t access.

For most of my life, pushing was something I was actually really good at. Doing. Achieving. Holding everything together.

Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I can do this. I don’t need help.

I was proud of my independence. My self-sufficiency.

But the truth was, I’d created a wall. And no one was allowed in behind it.

I felt protected there. I could safely hide behind the hard shield I had unknowingly built over time.

And yes, that works.

Until it doesn’t.

When I started accessing some of those shut-down places in my body, it was not by forcing my way in.

I couldn’t think my way into them either.

I had to learn how to connect with those parts of myself in a very soft, kind and safe way. I had to build trust within myself.

Very gradually, those parts became more accessible and the truth of what I had experienced began to unfold.

Not all at once. Not through forcing.

Bit by bit. My bodies wisdom always knowing how much I could handle. And what I needed to know next.

I’m still working through it. That’s for another newsletter!

But it didn’t come from pushing harder. It came from somewhere else.

And I think that’s the bit we can miss.

There is another way.

A softer, gentler way. Less about doing and more about allowing. Less pushing and more receiving.

And softness doesn’t mean passive. It doesn’t mean weak.

Sometimes allowing yourself to soften is the bravest thing you can do.

Or being witnessed while you go through something when you’ve spent your whole life believing you have to do everything alone.

Or it could simply be allowing one tear to roll down your cheek. And not wiping it away. Not apologising for it. Not immediately pulling yourself back together.

None of these experiences are more evolved than the others.

A primal scream isn’t further along than a single tear.

They’re just different edges for different people, on different days of their life.

There is a difference between pushing someone past their edge and creating the conditions in which they discover they can move beyond it themselves.

One can reinforce the old belief. The other is pure self-empowerment.

So I’ll leave you with this:

Where in your life are you trying to grow by pushing harder, when what you actually need is to soften and receive?

And would you know how to?