Mental Health

I was recently banned from Rover, a specialized craigslist website for finding pet sitters and dog walkers. They didn’t specify why exactly, though I know the walker claimed my dog bit her. I find this claim suspicious since my dogs have never bitten anyone before, certainly not hard enough to break skin, and her story contained several inconsistencies.

Reflecting on the landscape of my past mistakes, I’ve noticed a consistent pattern: moments when my ego seized the controls and steered me off course. The abstract concept of “staying humble” sounds straightforward until we’re faced with real-world situations that challenge our self-image. Only when something valuable slips away do we fully grasp what humility might have preserved.

Yoga exemplifies the powerful intersection of exercise and meditation. When most people think of yoga, they picture the physical practice of āsanas (poses) and vinyāsa (flowing sequences)–the aspects that provide a workout. Yet yoga transcends mere physical activity; it’s simultaneously a philosophy, lifestyle, and spiritual practice that engages both body and mind.

You’ve heard of the mind-body connection, and maybe also the brain-gut connection, but have you considered the interconnected mind-body-gut system? It might sound like I’m just stringing buzzwords together, but there’s fascinating science behind how these systems influence each other. The term “mind-body connection” has been a staple in wellness circles for decades, while the gut-brain connection represents a more recent scientific frontier. Only in the past 20-30 years have researchers begun to unravel the complex communication network between our digestive system and our brain.

Rejection delivers a particular kind of sting that transcends context and circumstance. Whether or not it becomes easier to handle with age and experience remains an open question—the anticipation of rejection rarely prepares us for its emotional impact when it actually occurs. I’ve developed a certain expertise in rejection through abundant experience. I’ve been rejected by educational institutions, potential employers, friends, family members, and romantic partners. I’ve faced rejection from people I’ve deeply admired and respected, people I’ve loved and trusted, and even complete strangers.

Being present means consciously inhabiting the current moment—experiencing life as it unfolds without the constant intrusion of past regrets or future anxieties. This state of attentional presence forms a cornerstone of numerous spiritual and philosophical traditions, from Buddhism and mindfulness practice to Stoicism. It’s also foundational to evidence-based therapeutic approaches like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), which teaches patients to anchor awareness in the present rather than spiraling into maladaptive thought patterns.

I’m learning to get better at being bored. There have been times when I actively avoided boredom, in particular in my childhood I thought of boredom as a bad thing. I still tend to fill free time with “activities” more than I should. My go-to boredom fillers include reading, writing, taking walks, watching TV or movies (as much as I hate to admit it), and occasionally a video game (which, unlike TV, requires some degree of active participation).

The most challenging relationships I’ve experienced, both personal and professional, have involved highly neurotic individuals. By neuroticism, I mean a tendency toward emotional instability—characterized by inconsistency, excessive anxiety, disproportionate reactions to minor issues, and sometimes aggressive responses to everyday stressors. Understanding Neuroticism # Neuroticism exists on a spectrum. A moderate level of concern about potential problems can be productive—it helps us prepare and plan. But when these feelings become overwhelming or trigger reactions that damage relationships, they cross into problematic territory.

Lies are easy. It’s easy to pretend your problems are someone else’s fault. It’s easy to pretend when things don’t go your way, that it’s the other party’s fault. We tell ourselves many lies to get through the day. Being honest is very challenging, and it’s especially hard to be honest with ourselves.

I’ve been thinking about the relationship between friendship and therapy in our modern world. It’s become increasingly common to suggest therapy as the default solution for nearly every emotional challenge—as if paying a professional to listen will magically transform our circumstances or instantly resolve our deepest struggles. To be clear: therapy can be valuable and even essential for many people, particularly those dealing with clinical conditions or processing trauma. But I wonder if we’ve overlooked something fundamental in our rush to professionalize emotional support—the irreplaceable value of genuine friendship.