People often ask me what inner work actually looks like.
It’s a difficult question to answer.
Mostly because it looks different for each of us.
But if I had to choose one metaphor…
I’d probably choose water.
Because water allows us to dive deep, or stay close to the shore.
I’ve always been drawn to deep water.
Not only in the lake.
Within myself.
I’m curious by nature.
When something hurts, I want to understand why.
When a pattern keeps repeating itself, I want to know what’s beneath it.
When fear shows up, I don’t only want it to go away.
I want to meet it.
That tendency has shaped both my personal journey and the way I work with people.
I genuinely believe that meaningful inner work asks something of us.
Not perfection.
Not endless suffering.
But a willingness to leave the shoreline from time to time.
To dive deep toward places we cannot see.
Because some questions simply cannot be answered from the shallow end.
Over the years, however, something important has changed.
When I Believed Deeper Was Always Better
For a long time, I believed that if deep water is where transformation happens…
Then deeper must be better.
I used to think that if I wasn’t diving deep…
I wasn’t really doing the work.
If I came back to the surface too soon, I wondered whether I was avoiding something.
Whether I wasn’t brave enough.
Whether I was somehow “doing it wrong.”
Looking back, I can see how unfair I was being with myself.
I no longer think that.
Today, I still believe that meaningful inner work requires a willingness to dive.
To meet our pain.
Our grief.
Our fears.
Our confusion.
Our traumas.
The parts of ourselves we’d often rather avoid.
For me, that’s where the real work happens.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is knowing when enough is enough.
Not because the work is finished.
It rarely is.
But because there comes a point where staying beneath the surface no longer creates more clarity.
Only more exhaustion.
Or confusion.
Or simply overwhelm.
Coming Up for Air Is Part of the Work
For a long time, I assumed that staying longer meant going deeper.
I no longer believe that’s true.
I’ve learned that staying longer isn’t always the same as going deeper.
Sometimes…
The deepest thing we can do…
Is come back up for air.
I’ve come to see that returning to the surface isn’t stepping away from the work.
It’s part of the work.
There are days when I have the capacity to stay with something difficult.
To sit with a painful emotion.
To remain curious a little longer before looking for an answer.
And there are days when I simply need to come back to the surface.
To breathe.
To laugh with friends.
To cook dinner.
To go for a walk.
To watch something completely pointless on television.
Life isn’t separate from inner work.
It’s where inner work is integrated.
Building Capacity, One Breath at a Time
Over the years, I’ve started thinking of it as building capacity.
Not the capacity to suffer.
The capacity to stay present.
To remain with discomfort without becoming overwhelmed by it.
To explore one more layer…
One more feeling…
One more question…
Before coming back up for air.
Like any capacity, it grows over time.
One dive at a time.
One breath at a time.
I’ve also learned that this balance is deeply personal.
No one can tell us what the right depth is.
No one can decide how long we should stay beneath the surface.
Each of us has our own rhythm.
Our own nervous system.
Our own history.
Which means each of us has to discover our own balance between the shallow and the deep.
These days, I ask myself a different question.
Not:
“How deep should I go?”
But:
“What do I need today?”
Sometimes the answer is to dive.
Sometimes it’s to stay close to the shore.
Sometimes it’s simply to float for a while and catch my breath before diving again.
I’ve come to believe that meaningful inner work isn’t about living in deep water.
It’s about learning to move freely between the shallow and the deep.
Listening carefully.
And finding the balance that feels right for us.
With curiosity and an open heart.
