Image credit: Ralph at Pixabay

If you're struggling, I want you to know that you're not alone. In this post I'll share some words of perspective that are mostly from my wiser self to my struggling self, but maybe they're for you, too.

If they are, you'll know, and if not, thanks anyway for reading -- it means a lot to me. 

Sometimes life is hard work, isn't it?

Sometimes being emotionally comfortable and confident, satisfied and at peace -- really, solidly, deep down, not just on the surface in the persona we present to other people -- seems out of reach.

And sometimes, we're fooling ourselves. In those moments we've convinced ourselves that we are ok, while we fail to notice that we're just projecting our stuff onto those around us and wondering why they cant get it together.

In his book Fully Human, Steve Biddulph points out that many people who seem to be doing fine are actually not. (Unless you define "FINE" as "F____d up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional.")

Biddulph says, "unresolved trauma -- personal and inter-generational -- is so common that it affects the lives of almost everyone. ... catastrophic wars, recessions, refugee flows, social changes to family, community and our relationship with nature -- [have led us to accumulate] a trauma legacy that lives in the bodies of most of us."

So why am I talking about all this right now?

The full moon illuminates our path - and our obstacles

I'm talking about all this right now because we just went through a full moon (I'm writing  on Monday 4th May, 2026, and the full moon was two days ago).

Full moon energy has a tendency to stir things up. It certainly did for me. In the late and wee hours of too many recent nights I've been confronting stuff that I would definitely have projected onto someone else if there had been anyone around.

Now in the light of day I'm reminded that choices and decisions made under duress can have a long-term impact.

I'm reminding myself that "this too shall pass," and that after it does I'll probably be wiser than I am now.

All of which is to say that if you're struggling around about now, if the full moon seems to have "illuminated" stuff that's hard to deal with, you're not alone.

You are not alone

In my mind, "you are not alone" has two meanings, which I'll unpack one at a time...

The compassion you offer to another is also received by your own hurting parts

The first meaning of "you are not alone," is obviously that others (who might appear to be fine) might be struggling too.

I'm in a process of trying teach myself to really "see" others, as they are deep down inside rather than just on the surface.

And yes, I'm finding that that is hard to do. It helps me to remind myself that whatever compassion I'm able to offer to another, by truly seeing them, is also received by my own hurting inner parts.

We are in relationship with something larger

The second meaning of "you are not alone" is that something larger than you is holding you. If you tune into that, you'll feel it.

My experience has been that I feel it either as soon as I tune in, or as soon as I hit bottom hard enough that I can no longer tune out.

I'll paraphrase words by Matt Licata:

We can trust the process of our healing and growth

I believe that psyche and soma -- mind and body -- are always seeking healing and wholeness the same way a seedling seeks sunlight.

We have a responsibility to place ourselves where the sun can reach us, and to provide ourselves with nourishment and nurturance (physical and otherwise). But we can entrust the actual process of our healing and growth to Nature -- our own, and the Nature of whatever you call the larger Intelligence that holds us.

The full moon illuminates everything, "good" and "bad," so its a great time for counting your blessings and for seeing your obstacles more clearly (the better to overcome them). 

Use these prompts for exploring both, at the full moon or any time you're struggling. 

Count your blessings 

In your journal or on a piece of paper, write:

• "I'm grateful for [...]"
• "I acknowledge my [...]"

Not sure what to acknowledge? Pick something good about you, something you've achieved, or something you haven't given up on. 

And finally, write

• "I want [...]"

Acknowledging our desires, especially the ones it feels unsafe to acknowledge, is a way of honoring them -- which is much healthier and kinder than ignoring or suppressing them. 

Look your challenges in the eye 

Sometimes it feels hard to find much to celebrate, or any authentic desires.

Sometimes, all I see at the full moon is obstacles. If that feels familiar, in your journal or on a piece of paper, write and answer these questions: 

• "What is obvious--fully illuminated--in my life right now?" 
• "What is most intense in my life right now; what is demanding my attention?"

Assuming you can be undisturbed for ten minutes, if you wrote difficult stuff down on your paper, try this: Right now, give your full attention to whatever feels intense in your life. Feel what you've been avoiding feeling.

Where is it in your body? Does it have a colour? A shape? A texture? Identify how it feels in your body, to be so blocked, miserable, frustrated, angry, whatever.

When you feel it, you can heal it. 

Breathe

Take a slow breath into the place in your body where you feel the sensations. 

Slower.

Then let your breath out.

Slowly.

Even slower.

Keep breathing out until your lungs are empty, and then breath out a bit more.

Do that three times: breathe into the sensations; breathe out slowly and completely. Make your out-breath waaay longer than your in-breath.

Sometimes it helps to hum as you breathe out, like a drone or a bumble bee.

Now. Now, you're paying attention. And when you're paying attention (as opposed to just coping) you're more likely to recognize the help you need when it shows up (in whatever form it comes).

And it will show up, because you are not alone.

If you're a parent who is too hard on yourself, this post is for you. It might also be for you if you often feel anxious or overwhelmed and you're not sure why.

The habit of being too hard on yourself is never helpful. Not for you, not for your family, and not for the work you want to do in the world.

But knowing that in a theoretical way and living it in a real way are two different animals.

We can be stuck in the trap of perfectionism and self-criticism (or its twin sibling, criticism of others who are close to you) without even knowing it. And it's a really, really hard trap to get out of.

I don't know about you, but for me when I'm in that trap I feel like I'm failing my kids and failing in my efforts to contribute effectively to the world I want for them to grow up in -- which are possibly two of the most painful ways there are to feel like a failure.

Do you often have a sense that "something is wrong"?

We all have an internal "critic," a voice pointing out when something is wrong. You might recognize the voice of your inner critic when you hear it, or you might just have a pervasive feeling or belief that something is wrong with:

1. what you're doing (or what you have done in the past),
2. the way you're doing it, or even,
3. with you.

To be very clear: number (3) on that list is never true (more on that below). 

Sometimes, (1) and/or (2) is true to some degree. When that's the case, it's your inner critic's job to spot it and point it out to you.

That's the proper, healthy role of your inner critic - to spot when you're off so you can adjust course appropriately. 

But then, the critic's job is done. It's supposed to get back in its box now, or take a nap, leaving you in charge of figuring out how to put things right.

Only, painfully often, it doesn't.

What happens when your inner critic gets out of hand?

It's easy for the inner critic to get WAY out of hand.

Instead of discretely tapping you on the shoulder, pointing out a mistake and then retiring full of trust that you can now be relied on to put things right, it stays on red alert. You can't make a move without it critiquing and second-guessing. 

Or your critic might be operating so invisibly that it feels impossible to separate it out and be able to recognize the effect it's having on you.You just feel chronically anxious, overwhelmed, unable to do anything right, and possibly impatient and intolerant of others' short comings, and you may not know why.

Sometimes, the critic is just plain WRONG

Sometimes the critic isn't just out of hand. It's plain wrong. That's when you have the feeling or belief that something is wrong with you -- (3) on my list above. This is simply. Never. True. 

There is nothing fundamentally wrong with you. You were not born "a bad person" in any way, shape, or form.

As a parent, you may at times have been too dis-regulated, exhausted, anxious, overwhelmed, etc, to think clearly or act effectively, but there is nothing wrong with you. Even when you have acted in ways that you know have caused damage and regrets, those were mistakes, not fundamental flaws in who you are.

Mistakes and mis-steps are like clouds - behind them, the sun is still shining

Inside you there is an undamaged presence, shining like the sun.

Just because clouds are scudding across in front of it, or even covering the whole sky, and maybe even for days or weeks on end -- the sun is still there.

The sun never goes away and it does not need to heal -- because whatever is generating the clouds has never touched the sun.

And the even better news is that the sun is shining inside your child/ren, too. Contrary to the opinions of your inner critic, you and your children have astonishing power to clear away the clouds that are temporarily covering the sun.

A one-minute practice for when your inner critic takes over

Can you spare a minute? Just for YOU?

Put your hand/s on your heart, or wherever feels right. Watch your breath. For three times in and out, follow where your breath goes inside of you, and let your out-breath be longer than your in-breath.

Now, with your breath, silently repeat your own versions of these suggestions (which are inspired by the teachings of Buddhist Monk Thich Nhat Hanh):

"Breathing in, I acknowledge my [insert whatever thoughts, feelings, or fears are troubling you]"

"Breathing out, I release them"

Repeat your own version of those statements silently with your in and out-breaths at least three times -- more if you want to.

Good enough...

Remind yourself:

"I only have to be a good enough parent. Trying to be perfect stresses me out, tightens and shortens my breath, and makes things worse. It makes the clouds cover the sun."

... and just in time

Remind yourself:

"I only have to be just in time. Just in time is right on time." 

When I look back at my life, I see that I only ever learned what I needed to know, just in time. I only ever came upon the tool or understanding or insight I needed, just in time. Never before.

I might spend significant chunks of time for weeks, months, even years, stressing about what I didn't know, about how I wasn't good enough.(Yes, still guilty.)

Then I would learn something, experience some insight, gain a broader perspective -- and see that I hadn't needed that until right when it came.

(Yes, you can have a part of you that understands something, in theory well enough to not be troubled by it any more, and other parts of you that still struggle with it and still feel like you'll never be free of it. We truly contain multitudes.)

"I trust myself as a parent"

Repeat after me:

"Breathing in, I feel my love for my child/ren." Let your love for your children flood your insides.

"Breathing out, I trust myself as their parent." Let the love that floods your body connect you to the wisdom of your heart, and trust that.

These are just clouds. Behind them the sun still shines.

A few days ago I was sitting at the computer trying to come up with a new post. It felt too hard. What if whatever I write isn't good enough?

So I allowed my avoidant parts to take over, and looked around for something easier to do. I started reading through a transcript from a Charles Eisenstein video.

This post was inspired by that video, which Charles titled, "The Transformation is Underway." (It's part of his Sanity Project, which I highly recommend.)

On the stories we live in

Humans are story makers. Our stories (or mythologies) tell us how things work. They give us meaning about things like who we are, what our roles are, how to make a positive impact, what is "normal."

You could say we live "inside" a story, playing a role created for us by our family and culture before we were old enough to examine it and say whether we wanted the role or not.

"Moral failure"

The dominant story of our world is described by Jeremy Lent as having "its roots in ... patriarchy, hierarchy, and empire, and five centuries of European colonialism and oppression that evolved into global capitalism which is a system of extraction, exploitation, and elite wealth accumulation" ¹.

To put it more simply, I could paraphrase Charles Eisenstein and say that the dominant story of the modern world is about "control for the sake of economic progress."

Lent describes the consequences of this story--climate disruption and ecological and social breakdown--as "a collective moral failure."

After reading the post I've just quoted from (which was called Careening Towards a Precipice), I unsubscribed from Jeremy Lent's Substack. Not because I don't agree with his work but because part of me resonates with it a bit too much.

It's temptingly simple to view our situation at this point in time as being the result of "a collective moral failure," because that means that if we all just buck up and become better citizens, living by better morals, we can solve the problem.

Trying to "be good" (and failing)

Jeremy Lent is talking about humanity as a collective, but for us as individuals the idea that humans are "moral failures" can be easy to buy into so deeply that it becomes counter-productive. I'll use myself as an example to illustrate what I mean.

As someone who struggles with a strong inner critic, it's easy for me to take on the bad guy role in this story. If I were a better citizen/parent/consumer, then things would improve. It's somehow my fault, and my responsibility to put right.

And if one expression of the inner critic is to blame oneself, the other is to blame someone else. It's their fault--the corporations, the business interests, the vaxers, the un-vaxers, the people who don't recycle their rubbish--whoever they are who are doing the bad thing.

Either way, whether its "my/our fault" or "their fault," it's somebody's fault and that person/group/nation should be punished and should atone for their sins.

This story can be paralyzing.

In my case, it led to my trying so hard to be a better citizen, and to uphold better morals. I had standards so high, in hindsight, that nobody could have reached them, let alone maintained them.

I was trying to be "a good girl," trying to control every outcome of every choice I made, to make it a "good" outcome.

I also did the other thing -- I lectured my kids and anybody who would listen about how bad everything is, whose fault it is, and how it should be put right. (Yes, still guilty.)

Then (painfully slowly) I began to understand that the more I tried to control everything to make it right, the more I was actually participating in the very story in which I had condemned myself and/or the whole of humanity as a failure.

How's that for a double bind?

The story of modernity: "Control for the sake of progress"

Above, I said that Charles Eisenstein describes our dominant modern story as a story of "control, for the sake of progress." (My interpretation, not necessarily his exact words.)

He says (again I'm paraphrasing):

"For a while, conquering and controlling seemed to be working. Our story of modernity and the story of progress seemed to be bringing benefits. Each generation was better off than the previous one, happier, healthier. It seemed like we were working on our deficiencies too -- the civil rights movement was underway, women's rights, gay liberation, the environmental movement. It seemed that we were going to bring the fruits of our ways to the whole world. That was called 'development' and 'progress.'

Well, now, looking at the levels of poverty, despair, suicide, depression, anxiety, mental illness, chronic disease, domestic abuse, ecocide -- its becoming obvious that the 'story of control and progress' is not working."

When we want to change the story

In my opinion, the most effective thing we can do to make a difference is not whatever work we do in the world around us. It's to turn inwards and work to become conscious of the stories we're participating in and our roles in them.

We can make small changes to our lives by tweaking our existing stories. But a BIG change, to a completely different kind of story where control and force are no longer the only means by which we can make a difference, can't take place from inside the old story.

Before we can make a change that big, we have to step out of the old story and specifically out of our role in it, so that then we can avoid keeping the old story alive by our participation in it.

The sure way we can contribute, regardless of our circumstances

Our role was initially assigned to us before we were old enough to examine it. We may then have continued to reassign it to ourselves, over and over, as adults.

No wonder nothing really changes.

Our work now is to stop, examine the story and our role in it carefully, and consider if this is really what we came here for.

I'm not saying this is easy. It's not. But it is the most effective way we can participate in the process of bringing a new story into being.

It's the one sure way we can contribute that's within our reach regardless of our circumstances.

The space between stories, relaxing the intellect, accessing the heart's wisdom

The phrase, "the space between stories" comes from Charles Eisenstein's work. In the video, Charles says (again I'm paraphrasing and drawing on his other work as well):

"The space between stories does not mean that you just sit there and do nothing. It's a place that you enter and actively participate in the dissolution of the old story-- you let go of your old ways of being and believing, your old understanding of things that might actually be part of the problem."

The dissolution of the old story is necessary to clear space for the new story. This involves sitting in the painful, uncontrollable not-knowing-what-to-do place that we enter when we are finally able to get out of our heads and stop trying to analyze, control, and direct.

So this is the work: the active participation in the dissolution of the old story. It's the work of dropping out of our heads and into our hearts, and holding space for what we find there without trying to fix it, force it, or rush it.

The stories are in our heads. The space between the stories is where we can access the wisdom of the heart.

When we drop down into our bodies and into our hearts, often enough and for long enough, guidance becomes available that's simply not accessible when we're in our heads. 

When you feel like it's all getting worse, not better

One last caveat. This work won't be easy or fun, and it might make things feel like they're getting worse. Your inner critic and your intellectual parts will want you to drop this crap and return to the fray. If you're anything like me, the voices of these parts of you will be relentless and it may feel like you have lost your way.

I very much doubt that you have. 

Apparent insanity on the part of an individual is actually a very healthy response to an insane world. 

Hang in there. You are not as alone as it feels, you are not crazy, and your inner work really matters. It matters to the hurting parts of you, and to the world around you. 

Related reading

• The "space between stories" is a phrase and concept that Charles Eisenstein first described in this essay in 2013. Then, in 2017, he wrote a shorter, more personal essay about how he himself was navigating the space between stories.
  
• To me, the space between stories has parallels to the moment between cycles that holds the wisdom gleaned from the previous cycle and the potentiality of the new one that is about to begin. Read more in this section of "The Dark Moon - Realigning Ourselves with the Rhythm of Life."
• If you related to the section above on Trying to be good (and failing), you might like these posts on the topic of the inner critic: Overwhelm and Anxiety - is this what's triggering them?" and "What You Were Meant to Learn About Mistakes, and what to do if you didn't." 
• In the section above on The story of modernity: "Control for the sake of progress", I wrote how we thought that the story of control and progress seemed to be working because  "each generation was better off than the previous one." I explored that idea a few years ago in "The Seductions of Science and Technology."

For my whole life I've wrestled with nervous system dis-regulation and all the things that go with that. Anxiety, overwhelm, and insomnia are three of the big ones for me.

I've used lots of tools and strategies along the way; one that I've found consistently helpful is focusing on my breath. You could call it breath awareness or intentional breathing.

It's taken me some practice to get in the habit of:

1. noticing that I'm tense, dis-regulated and scattered, and that my breathing feels restricted
2. focusing on my breath (even though its often initially uncomfortable)
3. staying focused on my breath (or bringing my attention back when it wanders) until the tightness eases and my breath can go deeper -- success!

That whole process can take as little as 3 to 5 breaths. (If I'm really tense and have been forgetting to do it, I might have to repeat the process several times before I get that sense of relief.)

It's taken me a while to get the hang of it, but as I've gotten better at it the benefits have been out of all proportion to the simplicity of the practice.

Here are three of the reasons I've become an advocate for the practice of conscious breathing, mindful breathing, or as I like to call it, "breathing myself home."

1. Focusing on your breath is restful and refreshing

Focusing on your breath can nourish and refresh you in ways that stressed out modern people don't even realize they're missing out on.

Try it. For three in breaths and three out breaths, just be with your breath. Let your breath bring you home to yourself.

Follow your breath inward. Be open, receptive, curious, about what you might find inside there where your breath goes.

Don't try to breath more deeply or slowly, just observe. Be ready to follow your breath deeper and feel the deliciousness of slowing down, when your body invites you. 

If nothing changes at first, that's ok. Repeat the process again the next time you think of it. (Consider how you could prompt yourself to remember to do it more often.)

Sooner or later, I feel confident that you'll experience a shift. For me, when the shift comes, several things happen. My breath slows down and deepens. A spaciousness opens up inside of me. Tension melts away.

Body tissues that have been tight and exhausted get to relax. Flow and ease (which could be our natural state -- just ask a cat) are restored.

2. Focusing on your breath brings you home to yourself

In my experience, awareness of your breath brings you into your body. To borrow words from Thich Nhat Hanh, it brings you "home." 

Our only true and unassailable home is "what the Buddha called the island of self, the peaceful place inside us,"². I say "unassailable" because it's the only home that, with practice, can literally become a safe sanctuary that's unaffected by outside events.

The severity of outside events that your safe island of Self can withstand obviously varies with practice and nervous system capacity. To me, practicing and building my capacity for this is SO worthwhile.

I'd go as far as to say its life-changing.

3. Using your breath to bring yourself into presence can give you back your time

I'm one of those people who never has enough time. There's always more to do than there is time to do it, and with this comes a sense of anxiety, hurry, and overwhelm.

I'm finding that dropping everything to focus on three to five full breaths (which doenst take long!) is giving me back my time.

Really. It makes time slow down, and the hustle recedes as the spaciousness inside me expands. What a relief!

To paraphrase some of THich Naht Hanh's wisdom on this:

Did I pay attention to my breath today?

If you keep a journal, even just a very sporadic one, try putting a prompt in there that you'll see each time you write in your journal (use a post it note for paper journals):

"Did I pay attention to my breath today?"

Related

The post "Emotional Regulation: 3 Simple Practices for Peace This Holiday Season" has more on short, simple breathing practices that can help when we get anxious, tense, or scattered. 

I'm writing this in the early days of 2026, but these ideas will be applicable regardless of the time of year. 

Off and on over the last several weeks I've been struggling to write a "proper" new years post -- you know, something that would be useful and relevant and hopefully make a difference for someone reading it.

I say "struggling," because most attempts to work on it have been a tussle between the part of me that says "I want to write something worthwhile," and the part that says "You cant. Here, I'll show you why."

So, putting that aside for a moment and accepting that I might not succeed in writing anything "proper" for the new year before the new year becomes old, here's something that I hope will be easier to write.

It has to do with presence, reverence, connection, and gratitude, all of which I was thinking about recently while making and eating breakfast. 

Lets begin with breakfast

Right before I sat down to write this, I cooked a batch of one of my favorite breakfasts -- porridge made with whole oats and a variety of other things.

This is quite an involved process. The time consuming part is fermenting the oats for digestibility. The fun/fiddly part is adding in a variety of things for texture, taste, and added nutrition. (Depending on my mood and their availability they include things like rose-hips, sultanas, shredded coconut, fennel seeds, nettle seeds.)

So I do all that in a batch to make about 7 breakfasts worth, then I cook it all up and put it in a large jar in the fridge. After that, when I want porridge for breakfast I spoon some out and cook it again, adding an egg to it and sometimes some coconut oil.

None of that is unusual for me; what was different was that today I had the luxury of a morning all to myself -- so it was easier for me to pay full attention to what I was doing.

And that leads me to presence and reverence.

On presence and reverence

This morning before I came into the kitchen I had just been outside in the garden, also paying full attention to what I was doing. 

That had helped me get into a state of presence, even a state of reverence.

Reverence could be described as "a feeling or attitude of profound respect, usually reserved for the sacred or divine." (collinsdictionary.com)

I'm aware in an intellectual way (I imagine you are too) that life itself, to be alive on earth enacting this one precious lifetime, is something worthy of being present for. It's worthy of reverence.

But the hustle of modern life often makes us forget. Our conditioning makes us forget (more on that in a minute).

My focused, intentional time in the garden this morning had reminded me that my life is worthy of my presence and my reverence (regardless of whether I ever successfully write anything worthwhile again -- note to critic part of self).

Thankfully, I carried that awareness with me into my breakfast making and eating process.

Which is why, instead of reading or writing while eating as I often do when eating alone, I just...

... ate.

And I paid attention to what I was eating, which led to way more enjoyment and pleasure while eating than I normally experience.

On the conditioning that says "thou shalt not..."

The pleasure and enjoyment I experienced eating breakfast was a gift from myself to myself.

We are not typically conditioned to bestow such gifts upon ourselves. In our hurried modern culture we are much more likely to have been taught to hurry and get breakfast over with already so we can move on to the "important" things. Which is why we so often miss the real important things.

(And paying attention to the real important things is one of the reasons why this is called "A Real Green Life.")

There's a squirm factor for me in confessing that I derived pleasure from eating my breakfast and that I received that pleasure as a gift to myself -- which suggests that I have some seriously strong "not allowed" conditioning sitting around somewhere inside me.

"Thou shalt not experience pleasure. Pleasure is ESPECIALLY not allowed just for the sake of pleasure."

Anyway... Getting back to my story, all of that led on from there to an awareness of the connections represented in that bowl of porridge and a sense of gratitude.

On connection and gratitude

Somewhere, a farmer cared enough about their land and all the living things on it and in it, and the oats and the people who would eat them, to make the effort involved in growing these oats organically. Everyone involved in the supply chain between me and that farmer, including the lady who runs our local health-food store, cared enough to make these oats available to me.

Same with the rose-hips. And the coconut. And the nettle seeds -- oh boy, those are fiddly to harvest!!

And we raised the chicken that laid the egg, and in the process of raising chickens we're building soil and increasing eco-system health on our farm.

And for all these foods to grow the sun shone, the rain rained, the tides and the winds and the moon and the cosmos all ebbed and flowed, the myriads of critters in soil and water all did what they do, communities of living things all teeming and throbbing and pulsing with life... all so I could enjoy this bowl of porridge.

As I considered all this, I was able to receive a second gift that I very rarely bestow on myself -- the gift of feeling held, supported, provided for.

And that, I suppose, could make this into a "proper" new year post...

May this year be...

... a year in which we are able to free ourselves from the old conditioning that says things like "not allowed."

May it be a year in  which we are able to receive the gifts of presence, reverence, pleasure, connection, and gratitude more often, and thus live deeper, fuller lives with more of the "real" stuff, and less "shoulds" and "should nots."

Thank you for reading. I never underestimate the value of your time, attention, and presence, and I hope you don't either.

Note: I wrote this post in December 2025, for the holiday season. But the principles in it apply all year round -- any time you or anyone around you needs emotional or nervous system support. 

Social gatherings and even just family meal times are supposed to be enjoyable. But the hope or expectation for connection and good feelings often creates pressure on us to "perform."

We want to be fun and light-hearted and patient and present for our kids and each other, but we may also be stressed out, exhausted, and hustling, and the to-do list never gets any shorter.

For many of us this spells an invitation to the inner critic, who starts relentlessly cracking the whip to make sure we're up to snuff.

And along with all that pressure, for some of us the holiday season also awakens an aching emptiness inside which can never be filled with tinsel and material gifts. Because while we're trying to meet other people's needs, there's also a little child inside each of us that needs our presence and attention.

This is what our own parents may not have been able to give to us when we were small. And if presence and connection is lacking internally, then the harder we try to be provide this for the people around us the more impoverished we feel internally -- leading to bitterness and resentment.

Strings of fairy lights

Picture a big Christmas tree with lots of strings of fairy lights threaded all over and through its branches.

Each string of lights makes its own pattern on the tree.

But not all the strings of lights are working the same. Some keep blinking on frantically and constantly; others are inhibited -- they're dim, or they don't light up at all.

These strings of lights winking on and off represent the neural activity in your brain. (See the Extras section down the bottom for more clarity on this, if you want to.)

It could be said that each string of fairy lights represents a "part" of you. 

You know how sometimes we say things like, “There’s a part of me that enjoys the holiday season and a part of me that doesn't" --well, "parts"are a thing.

Each part of you is like a child in a family -- your own inner family of parts. (Hence the name for the mental health modality that I'm describing - it's called "Internal Family Systems".)

When needy ones make trouble

In our internal family systems, there are parts that did not get their needs met when we were little. And just like in the "real" families that gather around tables during the holiday season and other social occasions, sometimes the parts whose needs have not been met will make trouble.

Because even though there are no "bad" parts, none of our parts have the full picture. And many of them are functioning at the level of a small, distressed child.

That's why on our imaginary Christmas tree, some strings of fairy lights shine frantically and some are dim or don't shine at all -- the needy, distressed parts are taking up all the brain space, effectively shutting the rest of the system down or causing it to malfunction.

Playing with the fairy lights

Now, imagine that a calm, curious, compassionate, confident, courageous, creative being is playing with the strings of fairy lights.

Tuning into them to understand what they need. Soothing and attending to the loud, controlling ones so that they can relax and make space for other parts; helping the shy, inhibited, doubtful ones shine brighter. So now there are more lights turned on, and they're all shining more harmoniously.

In other words, you are more emotionally regulated and your brain is functioning at something closer to its true capacity.

Who is this calm, compassionate being?

It's you, when you are in a state of emotional regulation - a state of clarity and connection. In Internal Family Systems this is called the "Self." Ideally, your Self is a bit like a parent to all the parts.

A lot of intensity

As I write, Christmas is a few weeks away. Families are trying to come together, or dealing with the feelings that arise when they can't, or when coming together hurts.

What if the single most useful, productive thing you could do to ease things is to take care of your internal family, so you can be more regulated and resourced for whatever is going on in your outer world?

Paradoxically, this care and attention for yourself is far more important than any task on your to-do list. Less urgent, probably, but more important. So, here are three suggestions that might help.

1. Take three conscious breaths

Begin with three breaths. Without trying to change your breathing at all, just follow it. Be open, receptive, curious, about what you might find inside there where your breath goes.

My 14 year old son calls this "breathing on manual," and he says that as soon as you pay attention to your breath, it feels awkward and you "forget how to breath."

If that feels like what happens for you when you focus on your breath, just stay with it. You can handle it for three breaths.

The awkwardness is  the sensation of your brain having to get out of autopilot and light up strings of fairy lights that are normally dark.

More fairy lights means more capacity.

Try making a habit of taking three conscious breaths each time you transition from one place or task to another.

With a bit of practice, this simple act of focusing on your breath and following it inward might lead to your breath slowing down and deepening.

A little bit spaciousness might open up inside you.

Some of your tension may diminish, a little or a lot.

You might even feel a sigh of relief from your constricted parts.

(I wrote more about this in "Breathe Yourself Home.")

2. Try this 5-breath meditation from Thich Nhat Hanh

Here's a short breath meditation from the book Silence by Buddhist Monk and peace activist, Thich Nhat Hanh.

This requires that you pay attention for 5 full breaths. You can do it. Repeat after me:

"Breathing in, I know I'm breathing in ...

Breathing out, I know I'm breathing out

Breathing in, my breath grows deep ...

Breathing out, my breath grows slow

Breathing in, I feel my body ...

Breathing out, I calm my body

Breathing in, I smile ...

Breathing out, I release

Breathing in, I'm in the present moment ...

Breathing out, I enjoy the present moment."

For me, when I try to smile on the fourth in-breath, I'm sure it looks more like a grimace. It's awkward. More under-used strings of fairy lights are being coaxed into lighting up. But smile or no smile, I'm happy to report that every time i remember to use this practice, I feel better.

I also use it with changes to the wording, according to my need:

"Breathing in, I acknowledge my anxiety ... 

Breathing out, I release my anxiety.

Breathing in, I acknowledge my fear ...

Breathing out, i release my fear.

Breathing in love ...

Breathing out gratitude."

Don't be fooled by the apparent simplicity. Remember, you're not trying to impress another adult; you're trying to sooth your inner 4 year old.

3. As well as your breath, use your finger tips

EFT stands for Emotional Freedom Technique. It's also often just called "Tapping," because it involves tapping with your finger tips on acupressure points on your face and upper body to send calming signals that let the alarm centers in your brain know it's safe to relax. Meaning, more lights can come on.

Even if you don't know anything about EFT, it's very simple to use in combination with your breath for "inner first aide."

(Later, I'd encourage you to learn more about EFT -- see the Extras down the bottom -- but this is a way to get some of its benefits right now, without needing to know anything about it beyond what I've just told you.)

Here are the steps:

• If you've never tapped before, tap 7 to 10 times gently with your finger tips on each of the points, following the chart below, to get a feel for it. Start with the "side of the hand" point, then follow the others as they're numbered. (Skip the "gamut" point for now, you don't need it for this exercise.)

• Once you're familiar with tapping on the points, pause, take a breath, then start again from the beginning.
  
• Tap 7 to 10 times on the "side of the hand" point while you breathe in. Tap 7 to 10 times on the "top of the head" point while you breathe out.
• Continue to follow the chart for the rest of the points -- breathe in as you tap on one point; breathe out as you tap on the next one. It doesn't matter which points you breathe in for and which you breathe out for. It doesn't matter if you miss a point or do them in the wrong order. You cant get this wrong.
• Ask your inner critic part to give it at least one full round of tapping without worrying about how you're doing.
• Then, once you start to get the hang of it, slow. Way. Down. Slow your tapping. Invite your breath to slow. Lengthen your out-breath to be a bit longer than your in-breath. Your breathing my grow deeper all by itself -- what a relief
• Tap lightly, softly, with love and compassion and care and attention. Be as gentle with yourself as you would with a little child.
  

Well done you 

You've just generated a few moments of peacefulness in your internal world. 

Take a moment to cherish yourself and congratulate yourself.

In the culture and times that most of us are finding ourselves in right now, this is the most counter-intuitive work there is -- and by far the most needed.

May your in-breath be deep, your out-breath be long, and all your strings of fairy lights shine in harmony at least occasionally during times of stress, including but not limited to the holiday season  

Extras

On strings of fairy lights to represent neural activity in your brain:

The main signaling cells of the brain are the neurons (the "fairy lights"), each with connections to other neurons that create neural "pathways" (the "wiring"). 

When a neural pathway has been reinforced by strong emotions and/or by lots of repetition, the connections between those neurons get stronger and this pathway becomes more like a "super highway" - easy to follow and hard to find an exit from. 

In my amateur understanding and in my personal experience, each distressed "part" -- for example, the critical part, the anxious part, the appeasing part, the overwhelmed part -- has its own well-worn neural pathways. Healing all this distress involves teaching the parts of myself that they can make new pathways, behave in new ways, and in doing so, light up new parts of my entire nervous system (not just my brain) that have long been shut down. 

I learned to think about all of this in this way partly from this excellent set of videos  (5 videos, each 12 to 20 minutes long).  

On EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique): 

Scroll down to the diagram in this article for a good guide on the acupressure points used in basic EFT, including the specific Chinese acupuncture meridian involved and specific ways each one of them can help you feel better.

Here's a good starting point if you'd like to learn more about EFT online. This organisation also has an Ap you can download to your phone. I have not tried the Ap, but I frequently reference the huge archive of articles on their website.

There are also some really great books about EFT. I can personally recommend the book Tapping by David Feinstein, Ph.D. and Donna Eden if you're in for a comprehensive deep dive, and there are many, many others.

Nourishment is something I think and talk about a lot. Obviously there's physical nourishment, which we get from food -- but to live full and satisfying lives we need other kinds of sustenance too. 

Lately I've been snacking on the book Silence, by Buddhist teacher and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh. In the first chapter he talks about four kinds of "nutriments" (types of nourishment) that we get energy from every day.

That's what inspired this post. 

A smorgasbord of stimuli

In Silence, Thich Nhat Hanh describes a "smorgasbord of stimuli" that we're choosing from every day (knowingly or not) as we take in energy from the world around us.

The types of nourishment available on the smorgasbord are:

• physical food, 
• sense impressions (what we take in through our five senses),
• volition (what moves us to act), and 
• consciousness (individual and collective).

As I was reading, it occurred to me that all of these can vary from healthy sources of energy, to unhealthy.

Just like real, nourishing food versus junk food, any of these four kinds of nutriments can fill us with energy and vitality or they can leave us un-nourished, sluggish or jittery, and unwell.

Of the four, the one I want to talk about in this post is "volition."

Volition - "the force that moves us to act"

I would describe "volition" as being "the force that motivates or moves us to act."

In a dictionary, it means something like, "the act of exercising the will; the faculty or capability of conscious choice, decision, and intention."  

To do something "of one's own volition" is to do it by one's own choice.

Synonyms for volition (words with similar meanings) are choice and discretion.

Volition is like food in that it "feeds" your choices and actions

Of the nutriment of "volition," Thich Nhat Hanh says:

I would also add that most of the noise around us is designed to incite strong emotional reactions that keep us hooked, scrolling, clicking, gaping, and gossiping (gossiping is now called "sharing"). 

And as digital tech and AI become increasingly subtle and manipulative, all this noise is influencing us far below the level of our conscious awareness. (I asked my 14 year old son what he thought of this post; one of the things he said was, "Mum, don't list "advertising" as a source of volition. Most people believe they're not influenced by advertising.")

Thich Nhat Hanh goes on to say,

Allowing the noise outside of you to motivate you is like eating junk food

Here's what I took away: 

Volition (your decision making power or the force that motivates you to act) can come from inside you, based on your personal values and your authentic desires. This is real "nourishment" for your decisions and actions. 

Or it can come from the "noise" outside of you -- this can be more like "junk food.".  

Volition from outside sources that are not interested in your well-being fills you up with "calories" (spikes of cheap, short term energy).

But it doesn't provide the lasting "nutrients" (for example, a sense of meaning and satisfaction) that you would get from being guided by your own internal volition.

Which means that when we allow the noise around us to motivate our actions, we're starving ourselves.

What if you can't find your internal volition?

If you got in trouble a lot for following your internal volition as a child, it might now feel like you cant find it or even that don't have any. 

Here's where mindfulness comes in. According to Thich Nhat Hanh (in another of his books, Being Peace) mindfulness means simply "paying attention."

Pay attention, especially to your body.

Your body knows what's going on inside of you. 

When your whole body feels good, you can assume that you've managed to align yourself with your internal volition. 

When something in your body feels "off," or uncomfortable, you can assume you're out of alignment. 

It's a bit like food -- real, nourishing food makes your body feel good; junk food doesn't.

As an adult, you know you can make mistakes. And Life has shown you that the consequences of some mistakes can be terrible. For many adults, fear of making a mistake is crippling.

It shows up in every aspect of your life. Without even knowing you're doing it, you just live a half life -- with the handbrake on all the time. This is the "inner critic" at work. 

What you were supposed to learn as a child 

As a small child, you were supposed to have the experience of feeling that you could do no wrong. That everyone you met wanted to hug or play with you, and that you could rely on your parents, uncles, aunties, and grandparents to protect and cherish you.

As you grew up, of course you discovered you could make mistakes. But ideally you also found that when you did, the people who loved you would step in and help you make it right.

You learned you could make amends for your mistakes, and that in the process you would grow stronger, wiser, more capable.

If you had that experience, you had a WAY better chance of growing up to be an adult who is not afraid of mistakes.

If you didn't, now that you're an adult it's up to you to find the child inside you, and find a way to give him or her what you missed out on.

Understanding your inner critic 

In recent years I've learned that my "inner critic" which looms so large in my life and often feels like it has me completely in its control, developed during my early childhood. Its purpose is to prevent me from taking risks that might get me into trouble.

It's the equivalent of a 5 year old suppressing her 4 year old sibling at any cost, to avoid drawing the attention of a punitive authority figure.  

Now, I understand that when I feel stuck and frustrated, when I find myself avoiding and procrastinating, when I have a vague sense that

"I've done something wrong and I'm gonna be in big trouble" 

... that's my  5 year old gatekeeper anxiously scanning the horizon for trouble. 

The antidote: compassionate self-leadership

So now when I feel those things, I say to my child-self,

"Honey, it's okay. There's a grown up here now to take care of everything. No one is mad at you, and there's no way you can fail at Life." 

In my experience, compassionate self-leadership is the only real antidote to that crippling fear, that tyrannical inner critic's voice that otherwise keeps you small and limited, fearful and hurting. 

The full moon is the moment in the lunar cycle of peak light, peak energy, peak everything (like the Summer Solstice in the annual solar cycle).

Before electricity, the full moon was when communities held celebrations because you could see all night long.

Also before electricity, the full moon was the friend of anyone whose work took them outside at night -- because you didn't have to stumble around in the dark. Obstacles were clearly revealed.

We're less in touch with the lunar cycle now that we don't rely on the moon to light our nighttime activities, but metaphorically speaking, the full moon can still "illuminate" what we need to "see more clearly" in our lives.

The full moon is a good time for acknowledging the good things

The full moon is an excellent time for celebrations. Take a moment while the energy is peaking, to count your blessings and acknowledge and celebrate your strengths, commitments, good intentions, and accomplishments. 

Can't find any? For three days in a row over the full moon period, in your journal or on a piece of paper, write:

"I'm grateful for [...].

"I acknowledge [...]"

(Not sure what to acknowledge? Pick something good about you, something you've achieved, or even just something you haven't given up on. It gets easier with practice.)

And finally, write

"I want [...]" 

(Acknowledging our desires, especially the ones we don't want to admit to, is a way of honoring them -- which is much healthier and kinder than ignoring or suppressing them³. 

The full moon illuminates what's standing in our way  

Sometimes it feels hard to find much to celebrate, or any authentic desires.

Sometimes all I see at the full moon is obstacles. Frustration. Flare-ups of difficult patterns that just keep hanging on no matter how hard I try to shake them off.

The full moon brings a kind of "peak illumination" to whatever needs our attention. Whatever we've been avoiding addressing in our lives.

"What is obvious--fully illuminated--in my life right now?" is a question I ask as the full moon approaches⁴.

"What is most intense, obvious, or compelling; what is demanding my attention right now?"

"What am I compelled to notice?"

Don't be discouraged if all you see is obstacles. Obstacles present themselves to us more clearly and insistently when we're ready to resolve them.

Until then, they hide in the shadows. We stumble over them, we know they're there, but we don't see them clearly until we're ready to resolve them.

When we're ready, when we "see" clearly--not before--the insight, teacher, support, or resources we need show up. The situation resolves itself, one way or another. (Maybe not comfortably.) 

Our job in the meantime is to pay attention.

Right now, give your full attention to whatever feels intense in your life as this full moon approaches. Feel what you've been avoiding feeling. 

Where is it in your body? Does it have a colour? A shape? A texture? How might a small child describe it?

Identify how it feels in your body to be so blocked, miserable, frustrated, whatever. Be with it to whatever degree feels do-able for you right now. 

Take a long, deep, slow breath into the part of your body where you feel the sensations. Slower. Deeper. 

Then let your breath out.

Slowly.

Even slower.

Keep breathing out until your lungs are empty, and then breath out a bit more.

Do that three times: breathe into the sensations; breathe out slowly and completely. Make your out breath longer than your in breath.

Sometimes it helps to hum as you breathe out. Tunefully or not, it doesn't matter. When I hum, I sound like a drone or a bumble bee⁵.

Now. Now, you're paying attention.

And when you're paying attention (as opposed to just coping) you're more likely to recognize the help you need when it shows up (in whatever form it comes).

Related reading 

What will the Full Moon Reveal for You?