Why “This Feels Impossible” Is My Favorite Thing to Hear
Note: Names and details are changed to protect client privacy. The Heartbreak That Holds Hope
When I hear a client whisper “This feels impossible,” I know I’m standing at the very edge of something sacred. It sounds harsh, like despair, or defeat, or a door closing, but to me, it’s an invitation. Because in the dark, there is space for light. And in the “impossible,” there is a chance to prove what’s possible.
Story #1: The Shoelaces
Amelie sat across from me, frustration building as she tried to tie the laces on her new shoes. Her voice cracked when she said the words that always sting: “I’ll never be able to do this again.”
Instead of correcting her, I joined her in the moment. Within just two sessions, I introduced a technique (a combination of guided hand positioning and an adaptive loop strategy) that made the tasks more accessible.
But the real magic wasn’t just in tying the shoes, it was in her mindset shift. Once she saw she could do this one “impossible” thing, her confidence began to spill over into other parts of her life. She approached cooking, walking outside, and even conversations with her family with a renewed sense of “maybe I can.”
Story #2: The Coffee Mug
David gripped his coffee mug with shaky hands. He looked at me, defeated, and said: “It’s pointless. I’ll just spill. I’ll never hold this steady again.”
I guided him through stabilizing technique using both posture and surface support (a method that’s simple in theory but requires practice and precision). Within a short time, he lifted that mug without spilling. His face lit up as if he’d just climbed a mountain.
And in that moment, something bigger shifted, he stopped seeing himself as “less than.” He began making breakfast again. He began answering the phone when friends called. One small, impossible-feeling victory became the spark for him reclaiming his independence.
Why I Love the Word “Impossible”
I don’t love it because it’s easy to hear. I love it because I know what comes next. I know that inside of “impossible” is the potential for transformation, courage, and joy.
Every time I hear, I’m reminded why I chose this work: not to erase the darkness, but to sit in it with someone until light begins to break through.
