Honouring the Pea: Flourish, Sensitivity, and Sacred Space
Fairy Tale Princess & the Pea
The Princess and the Pea
Once upon a time, there was a prince who longed to marry a real princess. One stormy night, a young woman appeared at the castle gates, drenched and weary, claiming she was a princess. To test her authenticity, the queen placed a single pea beneath twenty mattresses and twenty featherbeds. The next morning, when asked how she had slept, the young woman sighed: “Terribly! Something hard pressed into me all night, bruising me black and blue.” Only a true princess, the queen declared, could be so sensitive. The prince rejoiced, for he had found the one he sought.
I’ve always been a little unsure about adding labels to myself. They can feel limiting, as though they put us in boxes. But lately I’ve realised that the right words can also be immensely helpful—giving us a way to understand ourselves more deeply and to relate more openly to others.
I’ve recently learnt something about myself that feels both like a homecoming and a revelation: I am what’s known as a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP).
For a long time, I knew I felt things differently. I noticed the small shifts in body language, the subtle tones of voice, the energy in a room before words were spoken. I also knew how easily I could become overwhelmed by noise, busyness, and too much stimulation. But I didn’t know this was an actual trait, studied and named.
Psychologist Dr. Elaine Aron, in her book The Highly Sensitive Person
Psychologist Dr. Elaine Aron, in her book The Highly Sensitive Person, describes how around 20% of people and animals share this trait. Our nervous systems are finely tuned, picking up more details and processing experiences more deeply. It’s not a flaw; it’s a way of being in the world. And I feel I owe it to both myself, my teachers and to my students to share this honesty. By teaching from this place of openness, I hope to encourage others to feel more confident in their own skin too—knowing that sensitivity is something to embrace, not to hide.
Space to Breathe
In the midst of building Flourish and holding family life, I’ve had to honour this sensitivity. When the noise of the world gets too loud, I step back into quiet spaces—places of stillness and simplicity. This isn’t retreat out of weakness, but a way to refill so I can show up wholeheartedly.
And it’s not just the noise of daily life. The loudness of social media can feel just as overwhelming—constant scrolling, endless opinions, a flood of images and noise. As a sensitive person, I’ve learnt I need to take vacations from social media, just as much as from work or busyness. These pauses allow me to hear my own inner voice again and reconnect with what truly matters.
I realise now that, unknowingly, I may have created Flourish out of necessity. Teaching in big, crowded, unhomely spaces never felt right for me. My sensitivity couldn’t settle in those environments, and I couldn’t teach with authenticity. Flourish was born as a space where I could feel safe, grounded, and able to truly flourish in myself and my ability to teach.
The Magic of Eight
Author and researcher Lynne McTaggart discovered, through both informal experiments and more structured studies, that when people gathered in groups of around eight and focused their intention—whether for healing, change, or support—remarkable effects were reported. Participants often experienced:
Reduced anxiety and stress.
A sense of deep connection and oneness with the group.
Personal healing or life shifts, even when the focus of the intention was directed toward someone else.
EEG (brainwave) studies conducted during these group sessions showed that parts of the brain linked to worry, separation, and ego-boundary maintenance (such as the parietal lobes) became quieter, while areas connected to compassion, empathy, and love became more active.
McTaggart writes in The Power of Eight:
“When people come together and focus their collective energy, it’s as if a portal opens. They feel part of something greater than themselves—and that changes them, even at the level of their biology.”
I’ve found that this research mirrors my own lived experience with Flourish. In larger groups I sometimes feel lost in the noise, but in the intimacy of eight, something different happens. There is just enough closeness to feel safe, and just enough space to breathe. In these moments, the boundary between “me” and “we” begins to soften. I notice my own nervous system settling, my breath slowing, and an ease that allows me to be fully present. It feels as though something greater than all of us is moving quietly through the circle—an energy of connection that both holds and heals. For me, this is the alchemy of eight: the perfect container where sensitivity becomes strength, and presence becomes medicine.
Learning Through Sensitivity
Fairy tales often hold mirrors to the psyche, and The Princess and the Pea is one that has long been interpreted through Jungian thought. The princess’s ability to feel a single pea beneath layers of mattresses is not weakness but an image of profound sensitivity—an archetypal gift that discerns what lies hidden beneath the surface. As Marie-Louise von Franz reminds us, fairy tales represent “the archetypes in their simplest, barest and most concise form,” and here the pea becomes a symbol of the Self, that core truth within us that cannot be ignored. Ellen Siegelman, a Jungian analyst, has written that this tale speaks to those who “feel deeply, notice subtleties, and are easily affected by their surroundings,” suggesting that sensitivity is not something to harden against but to honour as a marker of authenticity. In this way, the story resonates with my own journey: creating Flourish as a sacred space where sensitivity is not a burden but a doorway to connection, presence, and wholeness.
Running a business as a highly sensitive person also brings its own challenges. I hold empathy for everyone, yet I’ve had to learn how to be strategic. I crave discipline with time, yet I also need to retreat when the world becomes too much. Taking some time out has allowed me to look at these patterns honestly—to see both my strengths and the ways I struggle—and to begin finding ways of working that honour who I am, instead of fighting against it.
Trusting New Paths
This reflection has shown me that being highly sensitive is not a barrier, but a guide. It helps me recognise when something is no longer serving me and nudges me to explore new paths. The time I’ve taken to pause and re-evaluate has helped me reconnect with my values and dreams, and I can already see new doors beginning to open. It means being okay with not knowing exactly where the path will lead, but trusting my intuition enough to follow.
Teaching from Sensitivity
What makes Flourish so special to me is that it instantly feels safe. Within its walls, I don’t need to armour myself; I can teach with openness and honesty. Because of my sensitivity, I don’t always need words to understand—you don’t have to tell me what’s going on. I can feel it in the tilt of your shoulders, the rhythm of your breath, the way your gaze softens or hardens.
This sensitivity allows me to teach intuitively, responding to the energy in the room. Classes become less about instruction and more about attunement—meeting you exactly where you are, in that moment.
A Gift, Not a Burden
Being highly sensitive means I sometimes withdraw when life feels too full. But it also means I can step in with presence, empathy, and awareness when the space allows. Flourish has become that sacred space for me, and my hope is that it feels the same for you: a place where you can soften, be seen, and return to yourself.
An Invitation
If any of this resonates with you—if you, too, feel deeply, notice the subtleties, or find yourself needing more rest from the noise of the world—I invite you to explore the idea of sensitivity for yourself. You may discover, as I have, that it is not something to “fix” but a gift to embrace. When honoured, it can open doors to empathy, connection, and a way of living that feels more aligned.
With Love Terasa xoxo
