When it comes to our mental health struggles, many of us have perfected the art of the dodge. We're talking about a deep-rooted pattern that keeps us haunted by the same painful themes or issues, never quite breaking free. Avoidance is the mind's automatic self-protection system. It's what happens when our brain decides, "This feeling is too scary, this memory too painful—let's go anywhere else, immediately!" And in the short term, it works brilliantly. That’s the problem.

Many of us have been taught to fear our anger. We learn early that anger invites violence or danger, that it's an emotion best suppressed or avoided. This widespread misunderstanding does us a tremendous disservice, cutting us off from one of our most potent creative resources. When anger is properly channeled, it offers extraordinary creative potential that too many of us have been conditioned to dismiss.

We often think about relationships in terms of building, growing, and nurturing. But what about when they change dramatically or end altogether? The transitions that reshape our connections with others—divorces, breakups, family estrangements, friendships that drift apart— can be among life's most painful experiences. These moments can challenge not just our emotional wellbeing but often our very identity. This is where radical acceptance becomes not just helpful, but essential.

Life is overwhelming when it seems like the world is quite literally on fire. So how do we keep our center amid the pressure cooker of climate change, social upheavals, an endless political circus, and the sheer pace of modern life? Whether its mindfulness, community, humor, or collective action, you can keep your inner flame alive without being decimated by the blaze. And if all else fails, some dark humor, a good snack, and a good cry might be just what you need.

Recently when I was in the shower, I went to shave my legs and realized “The water is already cooling off. I missed my shaving window again, dang it!” And just like that, I had to call it. Not because I was done with my shower tasks or because my morning was marching onward but because my neurodivergent brain’s preferred notification system for showering is simply running out of hot water. Sound familiar?