The soft landing is about coming home.
To ourselves. To our bodies. To the world. And also to each other. 

What does that actually mean, coming home to ourselves and to the world? How does that feel and what does that look like? This is a question I'm living, without having the answers.
And I want to share about it. 

As my therapist so beautifully says:
"You're making a soft foundation for your soul to land in." 
Exactly this describes my process of going from a lifetime of dissociating and not being in my body, to slowly sinking into my body and living in an embodied way. 

Softness is a key word here. Because hardening, in an attempt at self-protection, has kept me away from myself. And therefore also away from life. Away from the connection with myself and others. 

I also see this hardening in the world around me. For so many of us, being IN our bodies is something foreign, something difficult and perhaps something scary. And I don't find that surprising when we look at how hard the world we live in can be, how much (unrecognized and unfelt) pain many of us walk around with and how little room there is in our society to be a sensitive person.

Softness does not mean that everything has to be flowers and butterflies or that we always have to feel softness as an emotion. That's bypassing. Softness as I mean it, means looking at ourselves with soft eyes, being a soft container for everything we feel and experience. So, self-compassion. Because anger, pain, sadness, frustration, grief are all feelings that are part of our humanness. 

My hope and intention therefore, is to look at our humanness with softness. To how we can soften. With authenticity, presence. But also with the rawness, messiness and vulnerability that life brings. We do not have to transcend our humanness to come home to ourselves.