In the first decade of deeply working on ourselves day by day, we engage in the full spectrum of self-help practices: journaling, clean eating, exercise, breathwork, meditation, service, psychotherapy, and other healing modalities. I also include massage, chiropractic care, even getting facials or your nails done—these can all have a soothing, parasympathetic effect. But the benefit only emerges when we’re fully present. If we treat that moment—sitting in the chair, breathing, observing—as a meditation, then it’s no different than being in a yoga studio surrounded by masters.
In those early years of inner work, we have no idea what to expect emotionally. But a pattern emerges: as we uncover our sadness and confusion about childhood, anger often resurfaces as a default defense. We become angry at traffic, taxes, the news, migrants, garbage in the street—scapegoats for our unresolved pain. This anger can become part of our healing, but only if we become conscious of the fact that we're not relaxed. We're living in a mild, constant state of anxiety. In a truly relaxed state, we don’t obsess about problems unless they’re immediately life-threatening.
There are too many absurd things in the world to care about all at once. At most, we should engage with a few, and even then, only as a hobby. If you indulge once a week in a salacious news story about a celebrity trial, fine. But observe the cost: does it disturb your sleep, raise your anxiety, stay in your mind longer than it should? If so, you may conclude, “This is too distracting for me right now.”
I’ve written this message 700 different ways across this website, trying to reach each reader’s unique perspective. But let me simplify: all creatures are anxious by design. It’s how we survive. Take a deep breath and accept that as a fundamental truth. If you doubt it, go watch how animals move—every twitch and glance reveals this truth. There’s no shame in anxiety; it’s not a character defect.
Beneath anxiety is a cascade of chemistry: nerves, the vagus nerve, blood pressure, the brain, the heart—and above all, our conditioning. Conditioning is what most of us struggle to understand. Imagine being born nearly a blank slate, your only imperfections being the toxins transferred from your mother’s bloodstream. From birth, your body works to expel toxins while absorbing life-sustaining nutrients—air, water, food. But we also need love, guidance, protection, and wise teachers. Above all, we needed a stable childhood.
Most of us didn’t get that. And it shows—in how modern society lives. We are disconnected from ourselves, our children, and nature. We are tethered to the internet, lost in screens. Even without digital distraction, we always found ways to escape ourselves. It’s not about the phone—it’s about the need to avoid feeling.
Understand this: people who haven’t learned to regulate their nervous system will be driven to re-experience their anxiety over and over again. Why? Because facing it—truly feeling it—is what resets the system. For some, this happens cyclically, aligned with hormonal changes. Women often feel this through their monthly cycles. Men experience it through other pressures: the drive to be strong, successful, validated. Our hormones drive aggression, dominance, the fragile hunger for respect.
Men’s nervous systems have been shaped over generations to dominate women. And children get hurt because adults, still children themselves in emotional maturity, don’t understand their responsibilities. They are too self-centered. This will evolve—slowly—with time and awareness. The more people like you and me learn how the nervous system affects consciousness and awakening, the more this truth spreads.
Even if you’ve become aware of your childhood wounds, they may still be open. Healing begins with identifying those wounds and then making sure that no child—especially your own—goes through the same. This is a sacred opportunity to end the cycle by living vicariously through the healing of another.
Next, write your life story. One solid week of focused writing is enough to map out everything from your mother’s womb to age twenty. You can write backward or forward. Either way, the detail matters. The writing is the medicine. A journal becomes more than a record—it becomes a gift. In time, you will share it with someone close. Eventually, someone must see your darkest truths. Let them out. Cry if needed. Then, as part of your healing ritual, imagine placing the wounded child in you onto your mother, your father, your grandparents, your siblings. Place that child in the arms of your ancestors. The pain didn’t start with your parents—it goes back generations.
And if you’re going to blame your parents, be willing to blame yourself for the harm you’ve done too. Even the subtle ways we harm others count. If you don’t see it, it’s likely because you’re still protecting a fragile self-esteem. Now is the time to build true self-esteem—while mastering the breath. Your worth is not tied to your PhD, your Rolls-Royce, or your six-pack. Those are distractions. They lure us in like bait on a hook. Ego is the hook.
Instead, root yourself in your yoga posture. Return to your breath. You are awareness. You are passing through this realm in this body. Time has no meaning. Whether you were wounded or your children were wounded, the truth is: all generations were wounded. But it ends with you. You are the one who breaks the chain. Your healing ripples outward. Through cause and effect, through meditation, the collective rises.
The truth about self-help? It takes a long time. I won’t lie to you. So how do we accelerate our healing? We tap into divine consciousness—something greater than our individual minds. This comes from years of meditation and breathing. We focus on the third eye—or scientifically, the prefrontal cortex. We slow the breath. We regulate the heart rate.
At first, you might not feel different. You’ll think, “My heart rate is normal.” But the nervous system was wired on high alert for years. It takes time to unwind it. Think of an overseas pilot. Calm on the outside, but inside—amped up, alert, ready for crisis. Astronauts and pilots are chosen for one trait: nervous system regulation.
We must develop that same trait—calm under pressure. And now you’ve learned: breathwork is the way. But don’t expect miracles in the first few years unless you are unusually gifted and disciplined. You might experience moments of peace in yoga, in sports, or while trading stocks. But real life, with its curveballs, will break you at times.
Those breakdowns will be your greatest teachers. That’s when you realize: the only way to truly free yourself from your past is to create situations in adult life that mirror your childhood pain. Why? Because you’re meant to pass through that fire—not avoid it.
Accept it. Say to yourself: “This is how the mind works. I’m built to go through this. Let me go through it with eyes wide open.”