Driving Through Panic: A Revelation

Thanksgiving, November 28, 2024 - I was driving home from my sister's house, an hour and twenty minutes away. The road stretched ahead in the dim light, quiet and familiar, yet inside me, a storm was brewing. Halfway through the drive, I was hit by one of the most intense panic attacks I’ve had in a long time.

If you’ve ever experienced a panic attack, you know the feeling—it’s like being trapped in your own mind, every corner of it echoing with fear. My body trembled, my legs quaked, and my thoughts raced faster than the car I was trying to control. I felt like I might die. My mind kept telling me I was dying. 

But in that moment, an unexpected whispered resolve took root. If this was truly the moment I would let go of this life, I thought, I didn’t want to do it fighting myself. I wanted to find ease, even in the act of surrender.

I pulled over at a McDonald's restaurant, body shaking uncontrollably and considered calling for help. Should I dial 911? Go inside? Or could I trust myself to ride this out? I went to the restroom, avoiding my reflection in the mirror - I didn't want my own eyes to be the last I saw in this life. My mind was a battlefield of terrifying “what ifs," - but against the mind; I chose to listen to my body instead. To trust my body would listen to the words I was saying and the sensation of ease I was pulling in from heaven. If this was it, the angels would usher me home. It is said that some variation of "Do not be afraid." is in the bible 365 times. I was calling on the one for 11/28/24 for damn sure. "Do not fear - Be peace."

Despite the tremors and the adrenaline surging through me, I continued to drive home. I focused on grounding myself moment by moment, breath by breath. I wasn’t “fine.” I wasn’t enlightened or transcendent, as I sometimes know I am. I was just present—aware of my fragility but also a deeply buried sense of resilience whispered to be set free as each mile passed.

As I navigated through the panic, something profound began to crystallize:

To transcend the limits of something, you must meet those limits... then continue beyond them.

It was a stark truth—comforting and terrifying all at once.

In that moment, panic was a teacher. It wasn’t there to destroy me but to stretch me to the edges of my knowing, to show me what I was ready to learn. I can be with my self and soothe her to the very end. This experience wasn’t random. It was a manifestation of my own readiness to evolve, to face what I had been avoiding, and to step into a deeper understanding of myself. 

And then a phrase resurfaced in my mind: 

"Teach them to self-soothe." 

This message was given to me a few months ago and was profound. Then too, I'd gone through a tough panic episode - and as I later sat in a lavender Epsom salt bath, I sent the inquiry out... "What was THAT about?!" like, why was I being put through such experiences? 

Then, just like now, I was reminded to... "Teach them to self-soothe." Oh yeah. I am an enlightenment coach. I do help people who struggle with consistently feeling inner peace; I can't just talk about it. I have to be about it. It's my greatest joy to walk with integrity - as much as I despise the sensation of being trapped in my own mind - I recognize that to best utilize the pain is to assist others when they have similar experiences. It makes me relatable - so when I say, "I get it." You know I really do get it.

Self-soothing. It’s such a simple idea, yet it carries the weight of generations. It’s the antidote to abandonment wounds, the generational pain we carry, the fall from grace in the stories we tell about our origins. To self-soothe is to heal. It’s an act of self-love, a reclamation of power, and a step closer to the divine within us.

I began to see how this moment was about more than just calming my panic. It was a microcosm of the healing journey we’re all on. The path to enlightenment, I realized, isn’t about ascending above pain but about moving through it, letting go of what weighs us down—our fears, our beliefs, our behaviors—and returning to what’s real: ourselves.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, the storm had subsided. I was shaken but steady, raw but clear. The panic had passed, leaving me with a message that will stay with me forever: We are called to meet the edges of our being so that we can discover what lies beyond. And at every edge, the way forward is self-love. Acknowledging my humanity is the most divine thing I can do.