How I Choose to Live: The Best Advice I Have

When I was 16 years old my mom asked me if I wanted to go with her to see Wayne Dyer speak. I agreed and went to a talk that I found very moving. In this talk Wayne mentioned a book called Power Vs Force by David Hawkins. The book had this sort of ranking system for spiritual truth, and it ranked Buddhist teachings very highly, so I started reading Buddhist books.

Along with taking up meditation, reading Buddhist books and taking their principles to heart changed me deeply. I’ve always had a curious mind, and wondered about many things, but meditation and Buddhist teachings helped me to go from thinking my way through life to getting in touch with a sort of intuition and, I believe, a deeper intelligence inside.

While nothing can replace practice via meditation or presence in and with ourselves—deep, probing honesty about our own emotions and thoughts—I believe there are principles that help me to get a feel for my best way forward when I’m not so sure.

There are two key concepts that I’ve used and considered so many times that they’ve sort of melded together in my mind. Those concepts are the Middle Path from Buddhism, and Yinyang from Daoism and ancient Chinese philosophy in general.

Both frameworks to me are particularly poignant because they are deeply self-relative—that is, they don’t give any rigid anchor point for all people, but instead engage one’s own intuition to self-define the edges of being overly rigid or abandoning ourselves through excessive indulgence.

At their best interpretation, these concepts are also self-referential. We don’t have to become obsessed with the Middle Path, or seek to avoid all discipline or enjoyment. It’s about learning the flow of our own soul—getting a feel for where we could feel more self- and life-aligned if we were to face the present moment’s gifts directly, rather than obsessively planning, catastrophizing, or running to distractions.

I’m reminded yet again of Rumi’s iconic poem:

The Guest House — Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

The point is that the concept of ☯ Yinyang and the teaching of the ☸ Middle Path aren’t about meticulously curating what we allow ourselves to feel, but instead about being present with what is, and learning to conduct ourselves in a way that brings us into harmony with our lives in each moment—rather than constantly trying to push away discomfort.

The surprising reality of life is that suffering openly faced can carry a beauty and a profound peace, while running from our emotions or experience—even if sometimes necessary—can become a habit that feels much worse than the experiences or realizations we’re trying to avoid.

The Key

Both of these principles are largely part of helping us detect and adjust when we’re no longer truly present with ourselves, feeling our feelings, accepting what is. I believe that while it is at times quite difficult, the key to a good life through the suffering is finding this balance where we may at times let ourselves go a little more soft or a little more hard, but we do so with intention, honesty, and awareness.

The result is a life that flows. A life that’s dynamic and beautiful. One that isn’t stagnant, stuck in static narrative that limits our potential and our joy.

The practice requires us to get out of our own way again and again. Second guessing our habits of mind, our presuppositions. This can be quite challenging, but the result is freedom, peace, wellness, harmony. Even when we’re sad we can be gentle and attentive in tending to our sadness and move through it into brighter days.

Finally, the Concepts Themselves

To be honest, what follows is very basic ChatGPT responses to “What is the Middle Path” and “What is Yinyang.” I encourage anyone interested to read the Tao Te Ching and, if you’d like to retrace my own beginnings, check out the first Buddhist book I read: Awakening The Buddha Within by Lama Surya Das.

☸ Middle Path

Origin
The Buddha taught the Middle Path after realizing that neither a life of indulgence (pleasure-seeking) nor a life of extreme asceticism (self-denial) led to true freedom.

Balance
It’s about finding the wise middle ground where you aren’t pulled off course by extremes.

Application

In behavior: avoiding both overindulgence and harsh self-punishment.
In thinking: not clinging too rigidly to views, nor rejecting discernment altogether.
In practice: following the Noble Eightfold Path (right view, right action, etc.) is considered walking the Middle Path.

Analogy
It’s like tuning a string instrument: too tight (asceticism) and it snaps, too loose (indulgence) and it makes no sound. The middle way gives harmony.

☯ Yinyang

Overview
Yinyang (often written yin-yang) is a foundational concept in Chinese philosophy, especially in Daoism and traditional Chinese thought. At its core, it describes how seemingly opposite or contrary forces are actually complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world.

The Two Sides

Yin (阴): moon, darkness, coolness, stillness, receptivity, softness, the feminine, the inward.
Yang (阳): sun, light, warmth, activity, force, hardness, the masculine, the outward.

Rather than absolute opposites, yin and yang exist in dynamic balance. Each contains the seed of the other (that’s why the familiar ☯ symbol has a black dot in the white half and a white dot in the black half).

Key Principles

Relativity: Something is yin only in relation to something more yang. Night is yin compared to day, but night can be yang compared to the deeper stillness of winter.
Interdependence: Yin cannot exist without yang, and vice versa. You only know “dark” because you know “light.”
Cyclical transformation: Yin and yang are always shifting into one another. Day becomes night, night returns to day. Activity gives way to rest, and rest restores energy for activity again.
Balance: Health, harmony, and wisdom are found in keeping yin and yang in dynamic equilibrium. Too much of one throws things out of order.

The Perception of Safety: Polyvagal Theory, Trauma, and Healing

Polyvagal Theory

Polyvagal Theory is a framework developed by Dr. Stephen Porges that explains how our autonomic nervous system (ANS) responds to stress, safety, and social connection. It builds on the traditional “fight-or-flight” understanding of the nervous system, but adds a more nuanced view of how our bodies regulate states of arousal and safety.

Core Idea

The ANS isn’t just binary (on/off, stressed/relaxed). Instead, it has three main pathways, each linked to the vagus nerve (hence poly–many, vagal–vagus nerve):

1. Ventral Vagal System (Social Engagement State):

Activated when we feel safe.
Supports calm, connected, socially engaged behavior.
Regulates facial expressions, vocal tone, listening, and emotional attunement.
This is the “rest and connect” mode.

2. Sympathetic Nervous System (Mobilization / Fight-or-Flight):

Activated when we sense danger or threat.
Increases heart rate, adrenaline, and readiness for action.
Useful for escaping or defending against threats.
This is the “action under stress” mode.

3. Dorsal Vagal System (Shutdown / Immobilization):

Activated under extreme threat or when escape isn’t possible.
Can lead to collapse, freeze, dissociation, numbness, or withdrawal.
This is the “shutdown” or “conservation” mode.

The Hierarchy

The nervous system typically tries ventral vagal first (social connection and safety).
If safety cues fail, it shifts into sympathetic fight-or-flight.
If that doesn’t resolve the threat, it can default into dorsal vagal shutdown.

This hierarchy helps explain why people under stress might become hyper-reactive, avoidant, or even “numb out.”

Neuroception

Porges introduced the concept of neuroception — our nervous system’s unconscious scanning for cues of safety, danger, or life-threat. It happens below awareness, shaping our state before we even consciously interpret the situation.

Applications

Trauma Therapy: Helps explain why trauma survivors may freeze, dissociate, or struggle with connection.
Clinical Practices: Therapists use polyvagal-informed techniques (breathwork, safe touch, prosody in voice, co-regulation) to help clients move back toward ventral vagal states.
Everyday Life: It helps us understand patterns like why stress makes us withdraw, why social connection soothes us, and why safety is essential for healing.

The Effects of Trauma

Trauma can condition the nervous system to prioritize survival responses over connection, changing which vagal pathway gets activated and how easily someone can return to ventral vagal safety. Here’s how it often shows up:

A. Ventral Vagal (Safety & Social Engagement)

Without Trauma: People can fluidly return here after stress. They feel safe enough to connect, self-soothe, and co-regulate with others.
With Trauma: The ventral vagal “baseline” often weakens. Safety cues may not register as safe—eye contact, gentle touch, or even quiet moments might feel threatening. People may mistrust closeness or stay guarded, making it harder to feel grounded in calm connection.

B. Sympathetic (Mobilization: Fight or Flight)

Without Trauma: Stress triggers short bursts of fight-or-flight, then the body resets once the danger passes.
With Trauma: The system can become hypersensitive. Everyday challenges feel like threats, leading to chronic anxiety, hypervigilance, irritability, or restlessness. The nervous system “jumps” into sympathetic activation and may struggle to downshift.

C. Dorsal Vagal (Shutdown, Freeze, Dissociation)

Without Trauma: This only kicks in under overwhelming threat (like fainting, collapsing, or “playing dead” in nature).
With Trauma: The dorsal pathway can become more easily activated. People may dissociate, feel numb, “check out,” or struggle with energy and motivation—even in situations that aren’t life-threatening. This is especially common with chronic trauma or when fight/flight felt impossible or unsafe.

Trauma’s Lasting Imprint

Rigidity of Response: Trauma makes the nervous system less flexible—people can get “stuck” in sympathetic arousal or dorsal shutdown rather than cycling smoothly back to ventral vagal calm.
Distorted Neuroception: The unconscious scanning system becomes biased toward perceiving threat. Even neutral or safe situations can feel unsafe.
Fragmented Regulation: Someone might swing between hyperarousal (sympathetic) and hypoarousal (dorsal) without ever settling into ventral vagal connection.

Healing Implications

Restoring access to the ventral vagal state is central to trauma recovery.
Practices like safe social connection, attuned therapy, breathwork, grounding, gentle movement, and co-regulation with trusted others help re-train the nervous system to recognize safety and reestablish flexibility across all states.
On a daily level, even small routines—a consistent safe space, regular grounding practices, and reliable rhythms—can serve as anchors that remind the body it can return to safety.

Healing is a gradual process that asks for patience, repetition, and courage—but with consistent care, our nervous system can learn to trust safety again and the world itself can begin to feel less threatening, more genuinely safe.

Qi Gong and the Egg Timer: How to Keep Healing Between Treatments

“As long as you are awake, you can be mindful.
All it takes is wanting to and remembering
to bring your attention into the present moment.”
— Jon Kabat-Zinn

So you’re getting regular bodywork… but the aches keep coming back?

The problem isn’t you. The problem is the economy. More specifically: hours hunched over a desk, eyes locked on a screen, posture slowly folding in on itself.

Even with good treatments, your body is up against a daily tide of stress, static positions and repetitive movement. Both our body and our mind calcify into the same painful patterns unless we consistently make intentional efforts to shift them.

Enter: the hourly reset

I often suggest patients set a simple alarm every hour. When it goes off, it’s your cue to:

Best: Get up, walk around, shake it out.
Good: Take 1–3 deep, conscious breaths before diving back in.
At least: Notice your body. Are your shoulders creeping up toward your ears? How’s your neck doing?

Qi Gong shaking (a favorite)

Qi Gong has a simple, joyful reset:

Rise up on your toes.
Drop down and let your whole body shake.
Add sound if you want—hum, sigh, or let out whatever noise you want!

It’s about moving energy, loosening tension, and resetting your nervous system.

Alternatively, just put on a song and dance it out.

Why it matters

Your body and nervous system both need regular resets, especially if you’re doing stressful or intense work. These micro-pauses are huge for shifting the pattern of stress solidifying into recalcitrant habits of tension. Without body mindfulness and consistent movement, even the best therapeutic treatment is just a temporary fix.

Conclusion

If you’re investing in regular treatments but not feeling lasting progress, don’t give up. Try adding micro-resets: mindful movement, a shake, or even just one intentional breath each hour.

Because mindfulness is magic and movement is medicine.

PTSD, Healing & Happy Tears

Crying at the Happy Ending

“Crying at the Happy Ending” is an article by psychoanalyst Joseph Weiss (1952), popularized in Michael Bader’s 2014 article on Psychology Today. Its a powerful piece that explores why, even in the context of watching a movie, we often wait until a resolution to let ourselves feel—and cry.

The core idea is:

During the tension or crisis, our nervous system is in survival mode—fight, flight, freeze—so we suppress emotions to stay focused and safe.
Once the conflict resolves, we subconsciously perceive safety, and emotions we’ve been holding back—sadness, relief—can finally surface. That release often comes as tears at the happy ending.

Studies and later commentary support this “safety-signal” theory. A neuroscientific review explains that safety signals—learned cues predicting the absence of threat—actively inhibit fear and stress responses in humans and animals. In conditions like PTSD, this safety learning is often impaired, making it difficult to shift out of fear mode (Hamm & Jentsch, 2012).

This idea of emotional release being tied to a sense of safety? It’s not just emotional—it’s physiological. Let’s talk nervous system…

The Body Keeps the Score

As Bessel van der Kolk wrote in The Body Keeps the Score, trauma and chronic stress don’t just live in the mind. They live in the body.

Muscles clench. Breathing gets shallow. The gut stops working smoothly.
We might “move on” intellectually, but the body hasn’t gotten the memo.
Why? Because safety isn’t an idea. It’s a felt experience.

And until the body believes it’s safe, it won’t let go—of tension, pain, or emotion.

This Is the Core of My Work

In my opinion, my #1 priority in the clinic is to create space for my patients to experience a parasympathetic, relaxed sense of safety.

I will often tell my patients, “I take all snoring and drooling as compliments”. And many patients do fall asleep during massage, acupuncture, or cupping treatments.

Sometimes my patients feel more comfortable talking about their lives rather than hitting snooze, and I think that can be helpful as well. The combination of nervous system ease, physical comfort, and open conversation creates a potent cocktail for healing—one that includes both mind and body.

When things get complicated, I return to what I believe is most essential in healing—and in both my personal and professional experience, safety is key.

Stress Management – why the American work ethic is antithetical to wellness + tips

Below is just five of many high quality studies linking chronic work stress to serious physical and mental health outcomes:

1) A 2016 meta-analysis in The Lancet found that working more than 55 hours a week was associated with a 33% increased risk of stroke and a 13% higher risk of coronary heart disease compared to those working 35–40 hours per week (Kivimäki et al., 2015).

2) A longitudinal study in Journal of Occupational Health Psychology found that chronic job strain (high demands, low control) predicted depressive symptoms and fatigue even years later.
Melchior et al., 2007

3) A 10-year study in Circulation found that work stress significantly increased risk for metabolic syndrome, including hypertension, insulin resistance, and abdominal obesity.
“Work stress, particularly effort-reward imbalance, was associated with a 2x increased risk of developing metabolic syndrome.”
Chandola et al., 2006

4) The INTERHEART study (one of the largest global case-control studies on heart disease) found psychosocial stress (including workplace stress) was as predictive of myocardial infarction as traditional risk factors like smoking or diabetes.
“Chronic stressors, including those from work and home life, were associated with a >2-fold increased risk of heart attack.”
Rosengren et al., 2004

5) A 2025 study published in Occupational & Environmental Medicine found that individuals working more than 52 hours per week exhibited structural changes in 17 brain regions associated with executive function and emotional regulation. These alterations may lead to reduced emotional stability, increased anxiety, and challenges in managing interpersonal relationships. The researchers emphasized the need for workplace policies that mitigate excessive working hours to protect employees’ mental and cognitive well-being.
Cho et al., 2025

Beyond breathing exercises: what we’re really up against

Given the information above, it’s ludicrous to suggest that stress management is simply a matter of carving out a little extra time for yoga or breathing exercises. In America, stress isn’t just a scheduling issue—it’s a cultural one.

While it’s beyond the scope of this post to unpack fully, I’ll say this: yes, stress is deeply tied to financial realities. But in my opinion, those realities persist in part because of deeper cultural dysfunctions—patterns reinforced not just by media, but by the everyday choices and attitudes people adopt and normalize.

Therefore, adding a few “stress management techniques” can be helpful if they genuinely resonate with you—but they’re not the core solution. What most people need isn’t another task, but a different perspective around boundaries and values. Less overtime, more time on a lawn. More afternoons in a park, slow meals with friends, checking in with your body about what feels good.

But the money!

Despite the prevailing notion that economic development necessitates relentless work hours, the Netherlands exemplifies a more balanced approach. Dutch workers average just 32.2 hours per week—the shortest among OECD (high income democratic) countries—yet the nation maintains a high GDP per capita of $64,572 as of 2023. Furthermore, only 0.3% of Dutch employees work very long hours (50+ per week), the lowest rate in the OECD. This suggests that prioritizing work-life balance doesn’t compromise economic performance. Instead, it fosters a sustainable model where productivity coexists with personal well-being. The Times

Conclusion

I think the average wellness discussion around stress management unfortunately shares the same rotted roots as the problem it claims to address: subtly judging you for not managing to squeeze in a little meditation or yoga on top of an already overwhelming mix of work expectations, family responsibilities, and social obligations. If that kind of advice feels absurd given the scope of the issue—you’re not wrong.

Of course, in real life, we’re already in the thick of it. Financial stressors are real, and the system often feels designed to keep us too exhausted to push back. Still, carving out time for a walk or a bath can help. Yoga is a beautiful practice—so is canoeing, throwing a frisbee, or anything else that brings joy to your heart. These aren’t fixes, but they can be signals—small shifts that begin to bring your life back into alignment with what your heart actually needs.

Both the soul heart that longs for play, and the physical one—where chronic stress quietly takes its toll, and disease remains the number one cause of death in the U.S. It’s time we honor both.

Tips

Be kind to yourself.
Make space for quiet—and for joy—in each day.
Recognize your value beyond what you produce.
Set boundaries around work.
Prioritize sleep.
Take walks in nature.
Listen to the signals your body sends—with curiosity, not judgment.
Ask for help.
And sure, maybe do some yoga.

Meditation 101

Often, meditation is something my patients say they’ve tried but that “didn’t work” for them. I usually respond with this thought exercise:

Let’s say you lived in a world without Spotify, radios, or any easily accessible music. In this imaginary hellscape, you only have a violin, which you’ve never played before. You might pick up the violin specifically when you want to hear music, but unfortunately, your first experiences won’t be sweet, melodic sounds — just a screechy mess.

I think this is why meditation can turn so many people off. Meditation, in essence, runs counter to our very nature. It’s entirely natural to want to problem-solve, to have the “monkey mind,” as the Buddhist texts call it. We constantly seek something to keep us interested — even if that thing is our own discomfort, something upsetting a friend told us recently, or getting cut off in traffic. In a funny way, even these more “negative” thoughts can feel more natural than just noticing the breath.

But with practice, the music improves. Whether you’ve read some of the many research papers on the benefits of meditation, or just heard a friend say it helped her sleep, something keeps you coming back. You push past the initial discomfort and start to build a habit.

Lo and behold, those discordant sounds — the uncomfortable thoughts made louder by the silence — finally give way to moments of real calm. The practice of setting down whatever mental object arises and returning to the breath gradually allows your soul, mind, and nervous system to find ease for longer and longer stretches of time.

Over time, meditation becomes a great tool for self-regulation — a practice that helps you simply be with yourself, without the constant push and pull of craving and aversion.

Five to ten minutes each evening before bed is a great place to start, and has been shown to improve sleep quality.

To start meditating, find a comfortable seat — ideally upright on a small cushion, or in a chair with your spine tall and the crown of your head gently reaching toward the sky. Begin breathing naturally, and notice the sensation of your breath. At first, it might be helpful to count each breath: [Inhale] 1, [Exhale] 2, [Inhale] 3, etc., up to 10, then start over at 1.

Possibly the most important part of the practice is the very moment you notice you’ve been distracted. You realize you’ve been thinking about work for the last five minutes. Don’t fret, don’t chastise yourself, and don’t rush off to write down what you were thinking. Ideally, the moment you realize you’ve drifted, you simply come back to the breath.

If you find yourself getting distracted a lot, congratulations — you’re human. I genuinely don’t think the process needs to be any different for someone with full-on ADHD versus someone without. Like any other practice, it might take more time for one person than another, but the basic process is the same for everyone. Everyone will find stumbling blocks when learning to meditate. The important thing is not to let those challenges grow into their own story.

If needed, remind yourself that meditation time — like violin practice time — isn’t the time for ruminating on why you aren’t a natural savant. If you really want to, you can spend the rest of the day contemplating whether meditation “just isn’t for you,” but during your practice time, simply practice. Save the self-criticism for later.

In the end, unlike the music metaphor, meditation really is something only you can do for yourself. You really are the only person who can always be there for yourself, hear all your own thoughts — and you get to decide how to shape your inner landscape.

There are many other kinds of meditation. Another favorite of mine is a body-scanning practice called Vipassana. There’s also loving-kindness meditation, which focuses on cultivating positive emotions rather than bare awareness of sensation. And there are many others to explore.

If you’re interested in learning more about meditation, there are tons of great resources online, as well as many local meditation centers. And I’m always happy to talk more with any patient who’d like to dive deeper.