Being Here – Day 14
Being Here – Poem Day 14
Yesterday’s poem, When closeness feels like too much, stayed with the body.It didn’t ask for contact or movement — only allowed distance to be safe.
Today’s poem stays with the experience of that distance.
When closeness feels like too much — Reflecting
is not designed to regulate or settle.
It doesn’t move anything forward.
Instead, it names something many people carry quietly:
that pulling back is often not rejection,
but a way of staying intact when capacity is low.
This poem meets the questions that often follow withdrawal —
the self-judgement, the interpretation, the worry about what it “means” —
and offers a different frame.
Distance can be care.
Timing can matter.
Stepping back does not cancel connection.
There’s nothing to practise here.
Nothing to change.
This poem simply offers language
for recognising what may already be true
when closeness feels like too much.
Gently read it and let it land. (link to adio version below)
Warmly,
Per
Poem – When closeness feels like too much – Reflecting
There are moments when distance feels easier than closeness.
Not because connection isn’t wanted,
but because it asks for more than feels available.
The body may respond first —
a tightening, a pulling back,
a preference for space that doesn’t need explanation.
This can happen even with people who matter.
Even in relationships that feel generally safe.
Closeness can still arrive as pressure rather than comfort.
Often, the mind steps in with interpretation.
Questions about what this means.
Concerns about being cold, withdrawn, or unkind.
But stepping back is not the same as rejecting.
It’s often a way of staying intact,
of preserving a sense of self when proximity feels overwhelming.
There may be relief in the space created.
A quiet steadiness.
A sense of being able to breathe without being seen too closely.
This doesn’t mean connection is impossible.
It means timing matters.
So does capacity.
Recognising this can soften self-judgement.
It allows distance to be understood as a form of care —
not just for others,
but for yourself.
Seeing withdrawal this way
doesn’t require it to change.
It simply honours what is happening
when closeness feels like too much.
