you’re not spiraling: your body is speaking

 

have you ever felt the whole day spin before 9am?

like something tiny set you off,

but now you’re snappy to yourself in your mind, feel exhausted, find yourself scrolling, or shutting down?

here's a gentle toolkit to help you catch the signs sooner.

because your trauma response isn’t random - it’s a signal.

and when you learn to recognize it early,

you can shift before the spiral.

I write this as a love letter to your nervous system:

the signs, the pause, the power you have to choose something new.

my story

I remember the feeling of my throat shutting down

I woke up late for the first day of school

it was the beginning of fourth grade

in a brand new school

that moment I was my own greatest bully

when I waited there, 

after being led to the new classroom

by the teacher's desk

other students told me afterwards

how calm I looked

but boy if they would have seen

in the inside 🚨 

that nervous cramping in my stomach 

while I was leading the scout girls team

my mind was such a hostile place

and when something happened that I froze

someone was unkind to my little sister 

who had her special needs challenges but just wanted to be part of the team

it felt so lonely and isolated

my whole world was spiraling

those days when I stayed silent 

in the loud youth crowd

felt myself different

awkward and someone nothing to say

I carried that stigma of poverty

fear was shutting me down emotionally

so often that feeling came that 

I didn't belong

I changed school again

being closer to my extended family made me feel safer inside

like I belonged in there 

even if I froze in the cafeteria

among the crowd of teens

in my grandparents place I felt 

all was good

grandma told me to take a nap

when the overwhelm of homework hit

and I did

and I felt better

the pressure of my hostile mind 

when I found myself spiraling

and the pressure from the outside

were together sometimes 

too much to bare

and I cried 

that ugly cry 

when your eyes are swollen shut afterwards when you wake up 

the next morning

but what I learned along the years

was that in those moments 

especially

I was being held

that the pressure I put on 

my own shoulders

that hostile mind jargon I listened

coming from my broken self-image

was just words

they were echoing in my own mind

and that made them feel like they were

true

which they weren't 

I was allowing myself to be 

my own biggest bully

and when I realized that

and saw myself being held

in those moments

I started to shift 

this shift in what I did 

is what I’m sharing with you today

because this changed everything

I still get those moments

when I don't feel safe

and my mind starts the bullying drama

and when I feel like the outward world

is threatening my very being

then I go to this place in my mind

I take my body to this safe moment 

I catch the hostile flame early

and I blow out that toxic candle 

before it becomes a torch 

that spirals me with it's fumes

gentle steps to reclaim your day, this is what I do.

1. notice the whisper, not just the scream 🌬️

when the first cue of the hostile waves of emotions and thoughts is approaching

and my inner alarm goes off 🚨 

I go to this place in my mind

I remind myself that what's happening inside of me is not necessarily truth

about me

I take myself to this circle of adoption

it's this place where I stood in 2009

while I was in Hawaii

I felt like I was being adopted 

in my very being

from that orphan hostile place I held for

myself in my mind

to this belonging where 

I was being embraced 

with all in me

and I was being held 

and when those first waves 

start building up

I remind myself that what is true

is that I am adopted in love

and then when the toxic hostility tries to

build up and crash against me

I realize

it's just noise

and I can choose to let it roar

but not to be 

swept away with it

like it was the truth about me

who I am deep down

it's just my nervous system 

being loaded up

too tight

a moment when something triggering

got the mental system overloaded

and my mind went spiraling down and attacked me

2. respond with softness, not survival 🍵

I take my body to this safe moment

depending on where I am

when the first cues arise 

of the hostility in the horizon

when I notice in my body

the signs

that something alarming is happening 

if I’m at home

I take a nap

or curl up in the sofa with a soft blanket

or I make a cup of tea

I hold it in my hands

and remind myself of 

what is true is the warmth 

I feel in my hands

it reminds me

that I am safe

I breathe

if the waves crash in on me

with a stronger force in the beginning

I might add some essential oil

that reminds me of calm

I take a little walk

preferably in my garden

it always grounds me

back to safety

3. choose safety before the spiral

I catch the hostile flame early

I won't allow it to grow so strong anymore

without standing up for myself 

I read my body and notice early

when my breathing becomes shallow

my stomach cramps

my shoulders tighten

I’m realizing that something

within me fights myself

and I won't allow that bullying in

full force anymore so easily

when I notice the early signs 

I go to my safety toolkit

and I blow out the toxicity 

before it convinces me

that what's going on inside of me

would be the truth

I choose to find safety

before my inner world blows up 

in the spiral

I’m actively involved in putting out the fire 

and when it's early on

it's becoming easier

as part of my daily routine

my inner voice becomes gentler

it's like there's this gentle mother

at home inside of me 

who helps the tantrum bully girl 

to calm down her rage

the older and wiser me

who knows I’m being held

and the afraid young one of me

who listens to all the echoes

and nasty whispers 

that were meant to be blown out

with the wind 🌬️ 

🛟 fill in your safety toolkit:

what is your calming thought?

mine: I’m adopted in love

what is your calming action?

mine: nap / a cup of tea / garden tour

what is your early body cue?

mine: shallow breathing / stomach knot / shoulders tighten

having your toolkit ready is 

the sweetest thing

of loving yourself tangibly

that you can do 

Love,

Pia

Rain against clay

Rain beats down. Whips the surface with its merciless lash. This isn’t a soft, soothing Spring rain. Its touch is cold and harsh. Shivers run down the spine. Loneliness echoes hollowly in its howling.

The clay won’t hold much longer before it crumbles. The beautiful grooves, skillfully thrown into place, begin to wash away. Two vessels that had become one. A delicately carved coffee cup and a streamlined saucer found each other - and nothing else quite fit anymore. They were made for each other. One cannot exist without the other.

Just clay, in someone’s eyes. Fragile, replaceable. Yet for some reason, placed in the potter’s cabinet, front and center. Even though they weren’t finished yet. Still mid-process. Not yet fired, not yet glazed. Just dry, raw clay - waiting for something. Waiting under the potter’s gaze. On display, as said. Until another time came.

The time of the outdoor setting. On a summer terrace, they decorated the morning coffee table. For some odd reason, again under the gaze - these unfinished vessels.

Then the rest of the setting was cleared away. The howling autumn rains returned. Those two were left outside. Forgotten, someone said. The rain etched, and eventually broke them. They didn’t survive. Discarded, someone whispered.

But the one who designed them knew otherwise. Broken, forgotten perhaps - they were carried back in. The wheel was set on the table again. The clay was reshaped. The cup and saucer joined seamlessly, like softened clay. Cast again into one whole vessel.

Then into the hot kiln they went. For what felt - at least to them - like far too long. Again forgotten. Then coated with a sticky glaze, painted all over. Pushed through yet another unwanted phase. And as if that wasn’t enough, tortured again in heat.

When the autumn rains were covered in a blanket of snow, on one clear morning, they were placed back on the table. After washing, hot liquid was poured inside. For hearts gone cold in the middle of winter, a steaming drink was offered. What brightness in those eyes - awakened by the drink of love.

Love,

Pia

toxic self-talk diary

Have you thought about, when was the last time you gave yourself nurturing feedback?

I’ve been pondering a lot about being your own cheerleader and how that can affect everything you do.

We seek for healthy and balanced relationships with others, instead of toxic, twisted ones.

But the more I reflect upon my own self-talk I’ve realized how easily it is toxic and twisted with heavy demands that have no joy.

What exactly is it that I am demanding of myself?

A perfectly managed life in every area.

And take into account that it’s part of my personality that I always have some area of my life out of control and it is okay. 

So as a roadmap I have this list of rigid lifeless NO’s and MUST’s, with no celebration of the life that’s actually happening around me.

A perfectionist approach that kills all the joy before I even start doing anything.

Yes, I am a recovering perfectionist, so this shouldn’t surprise me.

But the way that automated self-talk is playing in my mind is so toxic, that I would never allow it as something that’s okay in my relationships with others.

And yet I am blindly obeying it, going through my lists of demanded perfection.

How does it look like for you to intentionally build a relationship with yourself, that allows you to enjoy your life as it is, today?

What lists of perfection do you throw into the trash bin when your mind creates drama and offers you the toxic list?

What is the simple thought that you commit to carrying that allows you to see the beauty in your life today, as it is?

Yes, you can build your life piece by piece, further from here, guided by pure joy.

But you find your way into that spot only through thankfulness of what already is.

Name one thing you’re thankful for today, just as it is.

And that’s where you start.

Real and raw joy is your guide along the way. 

I’ve learned a secret that toxic perfectionism and that bubbly joy are opposite powers.

Love,

Pia

etched into your palm

How should I say it? What I see when I look at your face. Maybe like this: I'm crazy about you.

You came to me again when nothing moved in my heart. When I was overthinking, trying too hard to understand. You released the anchors of my heart. How you did it, I don’t know. But something stirred within me, fiercely, and began to pulse through my veins.

The starry sky shone above us that night, when you took me along that narrow path lined with grass. The early morning dew clung to my hem. The soft cooing of doves filled the night around us. You opened the old forged gate, and before us unfolded a misty garden. You led me gently, dancing through rose-covered walkways. All my senses told me this must be a beautiful dream. Could reality ever be this sweet?

Then you pulled me close with your strong arm, and your gaze met mine. In your eyes, I saw eternity and faithfulness. Your truth nailed my heart to yours. I could only breathe deeply the air around us, as if intoxicated. I laid my head against your chest, and time stopped between us. Somewhere, a dove cooed again.

You wanted to show me something. You bent down the rose vines growing beside us so I could see under their shelter. Among the green stems, two white doves slept, curled into each other for warmth. A quiet coo echoed in the air once more.

When the morning sun brushed its first tones onto the brightening sky, you traced the shape of my body onto your palm. As you drew, I looked again into your eyes. How could I describe the burning fire glowing from them? That wildly strong love made my chest ache. It scorched my core like flames licking from the inside. Everything I had once treasured was now ash beside you.

I had never deserved anything like this. Eternal faithfulness and a wildly blazing love that broke down every barrier between us. A deep sacrifice, a confession of love so raw it wounded even you. Speechless, I danced the first dance of morning for you, on a dew-covered field. From your touch, my filthy dust had turned to golden shimmer in your palm.

Look, how beautiful you are, my beloved; look, how beautiful you are—your eyes are like doves.

—Song of Songs 1:15

Love,

Pia

P.S. this poem like memoir I wrote years back and shared in my other blog in my native language, Finnish. Bringing it into life in English now is such a sweet moment, I wanted to share with you.

why a moment of you and a cup of warm tea can feel healing?

What I’ve been searching lately, has been the simple elements of everyday life that can feel healing. I changed several cups of coffee for cups of tea some time ago. I start my day with a cup of coffee, yes, but after that on a regular weekday I drink different kinds of flavours of tea. At home it's mostly green tea with mint and milk. In the office it's rooibos. Sometimes when Henkka brings souvenirs, it's açai cinnamon tea with or without milk. After drinking all those cups of tea I started wondering why a moment of you and a cup of warm tea can feel so healing? Here's what I learned as someone building safety after trauma.

1. A rhythm of daily tea ritual: how predictability signals safety

I’ve experienced myself how trauma disrupts a person’s sense of safety and control. A tea ritual — warm mug, a vibrant shade of black, red or pearly white and green whirling in the hot water, familiar scent — gives the brain something predictable. That tells the amygdala a.ka your threat detector:

this is familiar. we are safe.

2. Warm tea mug in your hands: warmth soothes the vagus nerve.

I never knew that holding a warm cup physically stimulates the vagus nerve. This nerve which I got familiar with just recently, is the nerve, which plays a vital role in calming your nervous system. And when I heard that it can help to move you from fight-or-flight into inner rest, I started making even more tea, haha. Cause I know rest is where healing happens.

3. A tiny moment of calm: small actions rebuild agency.

I’ve found myself often pondering how trauma so easily creates a feeling of helplessness or the sense of being out of control. It's been really life giving to notice how one simple, mundane act of choosing a tea, boiling water, pouring mindfully — it reminds you:

I can make a gentle choice. I’m not stuck.

4. Feeling the now of tea moment: sensation brings you back to the body.

I’ve come to understand how many of us who have experienced trauma live in their heads — stuck in loops of anxiety, shame, or overwhelm. And this is how tea engages the senses:

the warmth

the aroma

the flavor

the sound of the pour

This brings you back into your body, back into the moment — gently and safely.

5. A moment of peace with a cup of tea: slowness counters urgency.

When I learned about how trauma can cause both an active or frozen response as a default pattern, it gave me so much clarity of certain moments in my everyday life. When the trigger of hustle or freeze arises — we go fast, or stay tense, and we don't feel. Yet I was amazed at how easily a simple tea ritual invites you into slowness. And slowness says:

there’s no emergency. we’re safe now.

So yes — a tea ritual may look tiny on the outside. But for a woman post-trauma, it’s often a sacred doorway:

from fear into presence.

from chaos into calm.

from survival into trust.

Now, if you’d like, go make a steaming warm cup of tea, dear.

Love,

Pia

pearl diver

someone says

it can’t be worth much

so small and round like that

hardly any size at all

barely visible to the eye

another holds it in their palm

examines

and estimates its value

feels its surface and weight

drops their monocle

a couple thousand

but there is one

whose shadow lingers in the room

where it rests in its box

even after the sun

has sunk into the sea

he is the only one

who understands its true worth

to him

it is the only one in the world

because

he is the only one

who remembers its journey

through murky waters

and pitch-black darkness

the journey

to that place

that has been forgotten

that painful

dangerous path

lonely

and persistent

through dead waters

he is

the pearl diver

what if your fear wasn’t the enemy?

There’s a strange moment that happens when fear walks into the room.

You feel it, don’t you?

That deep discomfort.

That sudden smallness.

Like your body wants to run — fast.

Like your heart says, “Let’s get out of here.”

But what if… you didn’t run?

What if instead of rushing out,

you stayed?

Even when it’s uncomfortable.

Even when it feels like too much.

Even when everything in you says, “Please, just fix this or make it go away.”

This is the secret:

If you want to name your fear clearly,

you have to sit with it.

Yes, really.

You have to stay in the same room as your fear — and not leave right away.

Because this is the place where something beautiful starts.

Here’s the truth:

Fear is not here to hurt you.

Fear is trying to protect you.

It’s showing up because something feels unsafe — or unfamiliar — or too big.

But that fear?

It comes from a story.

Your story.

And when you stay — when you choose to breathe and stay —

you give yourself a chance to see what’s really going on.

So what can you do in that scary, messy, “I-want-to-run” moment?

Try this:

Set a small timer. Stay for just a few minutes.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Hold something warm — like a cup of tea.

Tell yourself: “I am safe. This is just a feeling. It will pass.”

Let the wave of fear come.

Let it rise.

Let it crash.

Let it go.

Then, something powerful happens:

You get curious.

You begin to ask, “What is this really about?”

Where do I feel this in my body?

What does it feel like?

What is my face doing right now?

What are the names of the feelings I feel?

When you start to wonder instead of run,

fear loses its grip.

It stops shouting.

And something inside you starts whispering instead.

That whisper?

That’s your truth.

That’s your power.

That’s your healing.

That’s when fear becomes not your enemy — but your guide.

So the next time fear shows up,

don’t panic.

Pause.

Welcome it.

And say,

“Okay, I see you. Let’s sit for a minute.

Show me what you’re here to teach me.”

You are safe.

You are strong.

You are already enough.

You are being held.

Love,

Pia