![]() Some mornings don’t come easy. The world feels quiet but heavy, and even the simplest routines feel like uphill work. And yet, somewhere in that resistance between brushing your teeth and noticing the light through the blinds, there’s an invitation. It whispers, What if this, too, is part of the journey? In therapy and in life, it can be easy to think we’re moving toward a single destination—peace, happiness, or clarity—as if once we arrive, the struggle will fall away. But healing is not a straight line. It's not a formula. It’s a relationship with yourself that deepens over time, especially when you show up on the days you’d rather stay hidden. This process, often called psychological flexibility, is at the heart of lasting mental health. It refers to our ability to stay present and open to our internal experiences, even the uncomfortable ones, while still taking action aligned with our values (Kashdan & Rottenberg, 2010, p. 866). That means allowing sadness to exist without immediately needing to fix it. It means noticing anxiety without letting it run the show. It means trusting that even confusion or fear might be part of something unfolding in you—something wise, something real. The challenge is that our culture often treats happiness as the end goal, something to chase, hold, and preserve. But happiness, like all emotions, is fleeting. And that is exactly what makes it beautiful. Its impermanence reminds us that life moves. Emotions shift. Meaning is made not by capturing perfection, but by learning how to be in each moment fully. In Japanese philosophy, there’s a concept called Wabi-Sabi, the appreciation of what is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. It reminds us that beauty doesn’t live in flawless moments but in the cracked ones we choose to keep living through. Healing, too, is not about erasing the past but honoring the golden seams we form when we grow through it. Much like the art of kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, our own emotional fractures can become a source of deeper strength and meaning—not something to hide, but something to revere. As Viktor Frankl once noted, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves” (Frankl, 1985, p. 112). But change does not mean becoming someone else. It means returning to the self you may have had to hide. It means honoring your own pace. Healing is less about becoming new and more about becoming honest. This honesty, this willingness to be with what is, doesn’t mean we let pain run wild. It means we befriend it so it no longer has to roar to be heard. In fact, research on self- Compassion shows that those who learn to meet their struggles with kindness, not criticism, experience less anxiety and depression and greater emotional resilience (Neff, 2003, p. 226). So if this morning felt hard, or messy, or just quiet in a way that made you ache a little good. That’s not failure. That’s aliveness. That’s a nervous system trying to relearn safety. That’s a heart making room for something unfamiliar. That’s growth you may not see yet. Healing, after all, is not always a feeling. Sometimes it’s a decision: to show up again, to keep walking, to stay gentle. Because happiness isn’t the goal. Being here, now, is. by Dr. Elvin Peace References Frankl, V. E. (1985). *Man’s search for meaning* (Rev. ed.). Washington Square Press. https://archive.org/details/manssearchformea00fran_0 Kashdan, T. B., & Rottenberg, J. (2010). Psychological flexibility as a fundamental aspect of health. *Clinical Psychology Review, 30*(7), 865–878. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2010.03.001 Neff, K. D. (2003). The development and validation of a scale to measure self- compassion. *Self and Identity, 2*(3), 223–250. https://self-compassion.org/wp- content/uploads/2015/06/Neff2003.pdf #embracethejourney #lifeisbeautiful #mindfulness #personalgrowth #transience #acceptance #livinginthemoment
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