Paralysis Between Protect and Proceed
- Matt
- May 21
- 3 min read
Updated: Jun 5
For months, I’ve been stuck.
Not frozen on the outside — I was still showing up, still writing, still building. But inside? Paralysis.
At Praxis Pathways, I live by a simple mantra:
Prevent. Protect. Proceed.
It’s more than a framework — it’s a way of living:
🔹 Prevent — Spot the signs early. Notice the risks, patterns, behaviours that take you off course. Step in early, before the damage spreads.
🔹 Protect — Safeguard your energy, your values, your time. Set boundaries. Build what matters and keep it yourself and others safe.
🔹 Proceed — Move forward with intention. Action. Progress. Clarity. Aligned to what matters most.
And yet, despite knowing this — despite teaching it — I found myself stuck between protect and proceed.
The reality was that my mantra was:
Prevent. Protect. | (Paralysis) |.Proceed.
I’d spent months creating guides, insights, and tools to help others move forward. Frameworks, lived experience reflections, decision models — all built from the trenches of real life.
But I couldn’t seem to use them myself.
I was paralysed. By guilt. By the weight of my own story.
By the pressure of being okay enough to help others while silently struggling to help myself.
There’s a unique kind of exhaustion that comes from always trying to be the solution while hiding the fact you still need one.
I told myself I was being careful. I was “protecting” myself. But really, I was stuck in the middle — trapped in the transition between surviving and living – paralysed.
Then yesterday, I had a conversation with someone whom I had never met before. No fixing. No pressure. Just space to speak honestly and share my story. And somewhere in that space they shared something simple — the analogy of putting your own oxygen mask on first before helping others.
“In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the panel above you. Pull the mask towards you to start the flow of oxygen. Place the mask over your nose and mouth, secure it with the elastic band, and breathe normally. If you are travelling with someone who needs assistance, put your own mask on first before helping them.”
This instruction is based on a critical safety principle: if you lose consciousness due to lack of oxygen, you won’t be able to help anyone else. By securing your own mask first, you ensure you’re physically able to assist others.
What a powerful metaphor in wellbeing and coaching — you have to take care of yourself in order to truly show up for others. To proceed.
And in that moment, it landed. I realised:
“I’ve been trying so hard to figure out how to help everyone else put their oxygen masks on, but all the while, I’ve been running out of air myself.”
It hit me hard. And to the person who shared this metaphor with me, I can't thank them enough. The old rule on flights — fit your own mask before helping others — finally made sense. I’d skipped it. I was sprinting up and down the aisle, burning out in the name of service, not realising I was no longer breathing.
That moment changed something.
Not everything. But enough.
Enough to see that the path ahead didn’t disappear — I just couldn’t see it through the fog of guilt and pressure. Enough to realise that protect isn’t the final step — it’s the launchpad.
And you can’t proceed if you’re still punishing yourself for the past.
I built Praxis Pathways to help others move forward — but it turns out, the hardest path to walk is sometimes your own.
Now, I’m breathing again. Slowly. With intention.
And I see a path I couldn’t see before.
So if you’re stuck between protecting yourself and proceeding with your life — I see you. If you’re building tools for others while quietly breaking down behind the scenes — I get it. I’ve been there.
And maybe all it takes is one quiet moment. One safe conversation. One breath of your own air.
Your past doesn’t disqualify you from proceeding. It qualifies you to lead others there too.
But only if you put your mask on first.
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