I was coming home with the shopping, drove into the car lift that takes us down to our underground car park like I do every day... and it seized between floors. A blood-curdling screech, then the smell of burning. No phone signal through the concrete. The emergency alarm returned a robotic voice saying NOT IN SERVICE. And then I realised the engine was still running, and the fumes had nowhere to go. I screamed for help into a soundproofed metal box and no one heard me. Some of you know my history... a decade ago, panic attacks ran my life. And the old panic arrived right on cue, flooding my system, telling me exactly how this would end. Fire. Carbon monoxide. Suffocation. My mind offered me every version. Ten years ago that panic would have owned me completely. Here's what was different. Underneath the terror, something in me knew what to do. Breath, long slow exhales, over and over. Feet on the floor. Naming what was actually true rather than what my mind was screaming. The panic still came in waves. But I wasn't alone inside it. The woman I've built through years of this work was in there with me, and she held. But this is what's stayed with me since. When my body genuinely believed it might be the end, what rose up was love. Nothing else survived the moment. Just my family's faces, and the fierce, animal clarity of how much I love them. And when I finally heard my partner and son on the other side of those doors, refusing to wait for the engineer, running for tools, prising the doors open themselves... I sobbed like a child. My two heroes. The practices you're learning here aren't for the calm days. They're for the lift. They're so that when life seizes between floors, and at some point it will, there's a woman inside you who knows how to breathe, and who remembers instantly what actually matters. Have you had a moment like this... where life stopped you in your tracks and showed you what matters? Tell me below. I keep the fire lit. ❤️🔥 Carla x