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Narrow Vision - a Reflection Blog by Teo
Welcome to one of my reflections.
Usually, my reflections live quietly in our weekly newsletter - short, spontaneous pieces written whenever inspiration strikes.
I write about my experiences, feelings and learnings - navigating my path to health and balance as a business owner and coach.
As I sat down to write this reflection, I knew it felt different. It felt like something I didn’t want to get lost in the inbox - but share more widely.
It’s about learning to pause before reacting, to hold space for emotion instead of letting it take over, and to see how even a single breath can change the way we connect with ourselves and others.
Here it is - a little longer than usual, but one I’m truly proud to share with you.
It’s Sunday, and I finally found a quiet moment to sit down and write.
I never really plan these reflections, they come when they want to.
And today, something wanted to be written.
Thank you for reading, by the way. It means so much to me that you take a few minutes out of your day to share this space with me.
The other day, I got a text from a friend that triggered me.
I didn’t feel heard. I felt misunderstood. I felt angry.
My vision literally narrowed. I wanted to reply, “You hurt me!”
But then I remembered something I had recently read, that anger and fear narrow our vision, physically and psychologically.
Wait, what? Physically?
We literally get narrow vision when we’re in fear or anger.
Our brain is protecting us from a threat, as if a wild animal were chasing us.
Makes sense, right? Except these days, the threats are rarely real. They’re hidden, emotional, digital.
The more we give into fear, the narrower our vision and experience become.
Why am I saying all this? Because now that I understand how my body reacts, I can start with my body and let my mind follow.
Easier said than done, I know. But practice makes it easier.
In the last two years, I’ve been learning to connect more deeply to my body on a nervous-system level - paying attention to sensations and realising that I have a choice.
We can change our mental state by changing our body, and we can change our body by changing our mental state.
It’s a two-way web of information travelling through our nervous system.
So yes, I can learn how to be in control again - with time, with practice.
I feel my heart racing, my vision narrowing, my breath becoming faster, my chest closing down.
But what if I pause right there, take a deep breath, open my chest, look around, and see what’s around me?
Am I physically safe?
If I am - great.
Keep breathing. Keep looking.
Remind myself: I might feel anger, fear, frustration… but I can also take a step back.
And the “looking around” really works.
That day, when I read the text, I was outside walking home.
I sat on a bench and looked around.
I saw the trees, the grass, the small details of life around me.
I took a deep breath, then another. My chest expanded. My heart was still racing, but I kept breathing.
“You are safe,” I told myself.
“Everything is okay. You’ve got this.”
The emotions were still there, but I saw them as travellers.
They could knock on my door; I let them in.
But I didn’t have to let them change me.
I am the observer of my emotions.
I am safe.
That’s one example of a moment where I managed to hold that space.
But truthfully - I’m still learning. Some days it’s harder than others.
What helps is nature, and the environment we create around us to feel safe.
I’m now getting a plant for my office (I can’t believe I don’t have one yet!).
And I already have a small reminder on my desk that says: TRUST THE PROCESS.
Because regulation is a choice - one we make breath by breath.
Every inhale is a way of reminding my body:
I am safe. I am here.
And the next day, from that calm place, I wrote back to my friend.
I communicated how I felt with love and context.
Her reply was beautiful.
She thanked me for the way I expressed myself, for including her in my feelings instead of accusing.
She told me it taught her how she sometimes rejects sadness in others by trying to fix it too fast.
It became a shared reflection, not a disagreement.
Two people holding space for growth, instead of defending their sides.
That’s what emotional regulation really is - it keeps the bridge open.
It reminds us that connection isn’t about being right.
It’s about staying curious and kind enough to learn together.
Welcome to one of my reflections.
Usually, my reflections live quietly in our weekly newsletter - short, spontaneous pieces written whenever inspiration strikes.
I write about my experiences, feelings and learnings - navigating my path to health and balance as a business owner and coach.
As I sat down to write this reflection, I knew it felt different. It felt like something I didn’t want to get lost in the inbox - but share more widely.
It’s about learning to pause before reacting, to hold space for emotion instead of letting it take over, and to see how even a single breath can change the way we connect with ourselves and others.
Here it is - a little longer than usual, but one I’m truly proud to share with you.
It’s Sunday, and I finally found a quiet moment to sit down and write.
I never really plan these reflections, they come when they want to.
And today, something wanted to be written.
Thank you for reading, by the way. It means so much to me that you take a few minutes out of your day to share this space with me.
The other day, I got a text from a friend that triggered me.
I didn’t feel heard. I felt misunderstood. I felt angry.
My vision literally narrowed. I wanted to reply, “You hurt me!”
But then I remembered something I had recently read, that anger and fear narrow our vision, physically and psychologically.
Wait, what? Physically?
We literally get narrow vision when we’re in fear or anger.
Our brain is protecting us from a threat, as if a wild animal were chasing us.
Makes sense, right? Except these days, the threats are rarely real. They’re hidden, emotional, digital.
The more we give into fear, the narrower our vision and experience become.
Why am I saying all this? Because now that I understand how my body reacts, I can start with my body and let my mind follow.
Easier said than done, I know. But practice makes it easier.
In the last two years, I’ve been learning to connect more deeply to my body on a nervous-system level - paying attention to sensations and realising that I have a choice.
We can change our mental state by changing our body, and we can change our body by changing our mental state.
It’s a two-way web of information travelling through our nervous system.
So yes, I can learn how to be in control again - with time, with practice.
I feel my heart racing, my vision narrowing, my breath becoming faster, my chest closing down.
But what if I pause right there, take a deep breath, open my chest, look around, and see what’s around me?
Am I physically safe?
If I am - great.
Keep breathing. Keep looking.
Remind myself: I might feel anger, fear, frustration… but I can also take a step back.
And the “looking around” really works.
That day, when I read the text, I was outside walking home.
I sat on a bench and looked around.
I saw the trees, the grass, the small details of life around me.
I took a deep breath, then another. My chest expanded. My heart was still racing, but I kept breathing.
“You are safe,” I told myself.
“Everything is okay. You’ve got this.”
The emotions were still there, but I saw them as travellers.
They could knock on my door; I let them in.
But I didn’t have to let them change me.
I am the observer of my emotions.
I am safe.
That’s one example of a moment where I managed to hold that space.
But truthfully - I’m still learning. Some days it’s harder than others.
What helps is nature, and the environment we create around us to feel safe.
I’m now getting a plant for my office (I can’t believe I don’t have one yet!).
And I already have a small reminder on my desk that says: TRUST THE PROCESS.
Because regulation is a choice - one we make breath by breath.
Every inhale is a way of reminding my body:
I am safe. I am here.
And the next day, from that calm place, I wrote back to my friend.
I communicated how I felt with love and context.
Her reply was beautiful.
She thanked me for the way I expressed myself, for including her in my feelings instead of accusing.
She told me it taught her how she sometimes rejects sadness in others by trying to fix it too fast.
It became a shared reflection, not a disagreement.
Two people holding space for growth, instead of defending their sides.
That’s what emotional regulation really is - it keeps the bridge open.
It reminds us that connection isn’t about being right.
It’s about staying curious and kind enough to learn together.
