#2: Hold the Person, Drop the Story

The Key to Letting Emotions Pass

Hello friends,

Welcome back to HELD — a space to slow down, feel more, and return to what’s real in yourself and your relationships.

These reflections come straight from my own life — moments of presence, intimacy, and the sometimes messy practice of loving well.

If you’ve ever felt stuck in an emotion you can’t shake, or caught in a loop with someone you love, this one’s for you.

With heart,
Leo

THE QUIET KEY TO LETTING EMOTIONS PASS

I always believed I was good at “processing” my emotions.

I could name them. I could talk about them. I could write about them at length.
And still, they lingered.

Days would pass, sometimes weeks. The same sadness. The same anger. The same quiet ache beneath it all.

Why?

Because I wasn’t simply feeling the emotion. I was weaving a story around it.

Stories are subtle. They slip in almost unnoticed.

They sound like:
“She shouldn’t have treated me this way.”
“If only I had said this…”
“This always happens to me.”
“I will never get this right.”

Stories are containers. They hold the emotion in place.

As long as the container remains, the feeling can’t fully flow through.

Children know this instinctively. One moment they’re furious with a friend, and the next they’re laughing together again like nothing ever happened.

They feel the emotion fully and allow it to pass. No lingering story. No mental script.

We adults, on the other hand, become skilled at building elaborate narratives to house our emotions.

We get trapped in loops that keep them stuck. And we trap everyone around us in the roles we’ve written for them.

Let that sink in for a moment.

Let’s look at it from another angle.

If you’re a parent, you’ll relate to this: Can you spot when your kids are making up stories?

“She doesn’t like me because she said something mean.”
“I can’t do that — I always mess it up.”
“I can’t sleep. There’s a monster in the closet.”

Kids are great at making up stories (they just tend to drop them faster). And parents are great at spotting the fiction behind them.

But when we’re the ones spinning the stories, it gets harder. We don’t always have someone there to gently say: that’s just a story.

So here’s the key reminder:
Feel the feeling. Drop the story.

A PERSONAL STORY

Last month, I was waiting for my partner to arrive for an evening we’d planned together. We’d agreed to meet at five o’clock.

I’d been looking forward to it all day — dinner, a quiet evening to reconnect, the beginning of a beautiful weekend.

Five o’clock came. No message. No arrival.
Five-thirty. Still nothing.
She arrived at 6:12.

I had been waiting for over an hour. I was upset.

But it wasn’t just the delay. What mattered was what happened during that hour.
In that space, I wasn’t in my most mindful state.

I started anchoring my emotions in a story titled:
“She doesn’t really want to be with me tonight.”

Oh, such a dramas I was writing.

And with that story, my resentment, sadness, and anger grew. The story was a perfect space for my emotions to fester.

Even more — that story were scripting the roles for us. I’d be starring as the wounded, abandoned victim. She’d be the distant, selfish partner.

But when she walked in, she shared a completely different story.

Her daughter had had an emotional breakthrough just before she left. She’d opened up about something difficult and started to cry.

So my partner stepped into the role of caretaker, fully present to her daughter’s needs — and lost track of time.

Completely different roles than the ones I’d written, aren’t they?

And here’s the most honest part: When she told me this… was my heart open to giving her love and support?

No. It wasn’t.

My heart was still locked in the feelings that had been stewing in the story I wrote.

So instead of compassion, I lingered in my head. What she should have done … What she should have said … How she should have apologized.

Even when I saw her story, even when I dropped mine intellectually, the emotions lingered — because they’d been fed too long.

It took me more than an hour to soften. To step back. To truly see the depth of her love. To reconnect with the love we share.

Precious time was lost.

And it left me reflecting: What would’ve happened if I had dropped the story sooner?
If I had simply felt the emotions and let them pass?

But let’s not write another story — called “I should’ve known better…” That’s shame. That’s another loop!

So I drop that one too — and return to the practice.

Has any of this this happened to you?

Can you spot the stories you write about your partner? Your kids? Your coworkers?

How do those stories limit how the people in your life can show up?

Can we hold each other — and ourselves — more intimately by loosening the scripts we’ve written?

Feel the emotion. Drop the story.
And witness what lives beneath.

When we allow the emotion to pass, we begin to see:
It’s always changing. It always moves.

And beneath the story, there is love.

THE TAKEAWAY

Emotions are natural. They arise, take shape, and pass — if we let them.

But when we attach a story — of blame, judgment, or identity — we lock the emotion in place.

If you can stay with the raw sensation — the tightness in your chest, the heat in your face, the lump in your throat — the feeling will move and shift.

This practice changes everything.

You become less reactive.

You hold space to hold someone without projecting your story onto them.

You begin to see their stories as containers too — and meet them with kindness.

In relationships, this is profound.

It allows you to hold your partner with presence and empathy. You let go of the rumination and narratives that trap you both.

When you drop the story, you are free to hold each other in empathy, kindness, and love.

THIS WEEK’S PRACTICE

When a strong emotion arises this week:

  1. Pause.

  2. Name the feeling. Anger. Sadness. Fear. Longing. Resentment.

  3. Bring your attention to where it lives in your body.

  4. Notice when a story appears. Let it go. Return to sensation.

  5. Let the feeling move in its own time.

If you’re with your partner and the space feels safe, you might say:
“I think I’m running a story right now. What part do you feel you are playing?”

Listen quietly. Honor their feelings.

Then invite:
“If you could choose, what role would you want to play instead? What would that feel like? What would that version of you say?”

This opens a new door. A different kind of connection.

One that holds them with love.

“The emotion itself is not the problem.
It’s the resistance to the emotion,
the story we add to it, that causes suffering.”

~ Tara Brach (from Radical Acceptance)

Want to go deeper? Here are a couple of great resources for you.

Transforming Difficult Emotions – A Guided Meditation– Jack Kornfield
This guided meditation invites you to sit with strong emotions, not to fix or fight them, but to meet them with warmth and curiosity. As you bring your full attention to what’s alive in your body and heart, space opens for insight, for softening, and for something new to emerge.

How to Stop Overthinking Your RelationshipGreater Good Science Center
When our minds spiral in relationships, it’s often not truly about the other person—it’s the replaying of stories. This article explains how rumination builds distance in connection and explains 5 types of rumination. It also offers tools—from noticing thought patterns to mindful presence—to break the cycle and allow real intimacy to return.

I would love to hear from you.

What stories run your life? What happens when you drop the stories? What changes when you try these practices? Do you notice the emotions flow more quickly?

Just “reply” to this e-mail and share your wins.

I read every response.

And if you ever want support applying this work more deeply, feel free to reach out.

Wishing you love and intimacy across all your life,
Leo

HELD: In presence, in love, in truth.