Embracing Self-Inquiry – When Rumination Disguises Itself as Reflection
Welcome back,
Let’s say something happened recently — maybe with a friend, a partner, or a coworker. You said something you wish you hadn’t… or maybe you didn’t speak up when something didn’t sit right. Now, you’re caught in your thoughts.
You find yourself replaying the moment over and over, trying to locate where things went wrong. Maybe you’re hoping to learn something. Maybe, there’s a part of you secretly hoping to justify how it all unfolded. But despite all the analyzing, all this cycling, you're not feeling any clearer. You're just stuck.
Sound familiar?
If you recognize yourself in this pattern, you’re not alone.
Many of us have heard how helpful self-inquiry can be, and we may be trying. But if your version of self-inquiry sounds like:
“I should’ve known better.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Why is this happening again?”
“You don’t have to feel guilty about this…”
…you might not be practicing true self-inquiry — you might be stuck in rumination or self-protection. Rather than exploring the feelings we’re experiencing, we may be trying to solve them.
Self-inquiry doesn’t sound like shame or pressure. And it’s not meant to solve our emotions – because our emotions aren’t problems to fix; they’re messengers.
But many of us weren’t taught how to relate to our emotions with curiosity, compassion, or presence. Instead, we learned to reason our way out of them, or avoid them. We learned to analyze, intellectualize, or shut them down. Even seemingly kind thoughts like “you don’t have to feel this way” can carry an underlying message: this feeling shouldn’t be here.
But imagine you were struggling and a friend said that to you — “You don’t need to feel that way.” Would that help you explore the emotion… or would it feel like your experience was being dismissed?
When we tell ourselves not to feel something, even gently, we’re often trying to push it away. And it’s hard to get curious about something we’re unwilling to sit beside.
True self-inquiry begins by making space for the feeling to exist.
Not to wallow in it or solve it — but to listen to it. To sit beside it. To recognize it not as a threat, but as a part of you that’s trying to be seen.
And when we slow down enough to listen — without judgment, without rushing to change or fix — that’s when insight starts to emerge. Not from thinking harder, but from softening into presence. From remembering that awareness itself creates space for change.
So, instead of cycling through thoughts, we begin to ask different kinds of questions.
Not questions that push us to do better, feel better, or be better.
But questions that help us return to ourselves.
Here are a few gentle prompts I invite you to explore the next time you find yourself ruminating or avoiding:
What sensations can I notice in my body?
What emotion do I associate with that sensation — and what might this feeling be trying to protect?
What part of me is showing up right now, and what does it need?
When have I felt this before? What was I taught about emotions like this?
If I didn’t try to fix, change or justify this feeling, what would it say?
Is there something this part of me is afraid might happen?
How would I sit with this feeling if it were showing up in someone I love?
What’s one thing I can offer myself in this moment: presence, kindness, a breath?
The goal isn’t to make your feelings go away. It’s to deepen your relationship with them — and with yourself.
Self-inquiry is about making space for all parts of you. Because when you do that, something shifts.
You respond differently.
You relate differently.
You begin to see yourself — and the world — through softer eyes.
And over time, this kind of presence creates real change. Not by forcing a breakthrough, but by building a bridge.
From fear to understanding.
From judgment to compassion.
From disconnection to inner trust.
It’s not about thinking, and it’s not about fixing the past or escaping the feeling.
It’s about feeling, and it’s about learning to stay present, to listen, and to remind yourself: this part of me deserves to be seen too.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
