Tag: mental wellbeing

When the Future Feels Too Heavy

pammunkholm 
Inside me, the Protector, the Wounded Child, the Survivor, and the Healer all dance in a quiet circle. Each one longs to be seen, to be heard, to be held. And when I finally stop to witness them, their chaos becomes a rhythm… and their rhythm becomes my healing. 
-recoverytrauma.ltd

I heard something recently that has been rolling around in my head. It was a conversation about worry versus wisdom.

The idea was that worry keeps us stuck, while wisdom keeps us moving.

One of the concepts was this, sometimes we feel stuck because we want two things that can’t exist at the same time.

  • I want to be healthy, but I don’t want to change anything.
  • I want to feel better, but I don’t want to slow down.
  • I want to have more energy, but I don’t want to give anything up.
  • I want my nervous system to settle, but I keep filling every available minute.

And with chronic pain, there can be a whole extra layer of this.

  • I want to do the things I used to do, but my body can’t always do them.
  • I want to feel better, but I can’t control whether I have a good pain day or a terrible one.
  • I want answers, but sometimes there are no tidy solutions.

So I worry. I think. I analyze. I replay. I predict. (I’m actually a delight. But you wouldn’t know it because I’m so tired and irritated all the time.)

I consider every possible scenario until my brain has apparently opened approximately 47 tabs, and none of them are helpful.

And somewhere in all of that thinking, I can become very, very stuck.

But then I look at my grandkids.

They might know something I have forgotten.

They don’t spend nearly as much time worrying about what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow.

They deal with right now.

If they’re hungry, they eat.

If they’re tired, they lie down.

If they see a bug, suddenly that bug is the most fascinating creature on Earth.

If someone says something funny, they laugh.

If they fall down, they may cry. And then, remarkably, five minutes later they’re deeply invested in something completely unrelated.

They don’t seem to spend a lot of time thinking:

I really shouldn’t have fallen down yesterday.

Or:

What if I fall down again tomorrow?

They are busy being where their feet are. Kids have a PhD in being where their feet are. (Wise little beings.)

Not because the past doesn’t matter. Not because the future doesn’t matter.

But because this moment is the only one I can actually do anything with.

And I think that is part of the difference between worry and wisdom.

Worry keeps asking:

What if?

Wisdom asks:

What now?

What if I stopped trying to solve tomorrow?

One of the things I love about forest therapy is that nature gives me a place to practice being present.

Not by sitting perfectly still and trying to empty my mind.

My brain 🧠- Director of Unnecessary Mental Load 🪪

Instead, I can go outside and let my attention wander.

I call this a sensory wander.

Rather than walking with a destination in mind, I slow down and follow whatever catches my attention.

Maybe it’s the shape of a leaf.

The sound of something moving in the grass.

The smell of wet earth.

A tree with strange bark.

The way sunlight hits one little patch of moss.

A bird I can’t identify.

A spider web I would have walked right past.

I don’t have to figure anything out.

I don’t have to make the experience meaningful.

I don’t have to turn it into a lesson.

I just notice.

What has my attention right now?

Then I follow that.

And when something else catches my attention, I follow that instead.

It’s quite simple.

I don’t have to live three days ago. I don’t have to live three weeks from now.

I can live right here.

With the trees.

With whatever happens to be in front of me.

Wisdom doesn’t mean having it all figured out

I don’t think the podcast was suggesting that wisdom means knowing exactly what to do.

Sometimes we don’t know.

Especially with chronic pain.

There is a lot of trial and error.

What helped yesterday might not help today.

Something that works beautifully for one person might make another person’s body stage a small coup.

There isn’t always a clear answer.

But wisdom doesn’t necessarily require a complete plan.

It can be much smaller.

One thing I know I can do is this.

  • I can drink some water 💦
  • I can rest before I completely crash. 😴
  • I can step outside 👣
  • I can notice what my body is telling me 👂
  • I can take a short walk instead of deciding I need to complete a 5km hike or not bother going at all 🚶‍♀️
  • I can spend ten minutes among the trees 🌲 🌲
  • I can stop arguing with the reality of today long enough to actually experience today 🧘‍♀️

That last one is hard.

Because sometimes I want today to be different. But wanting it to be different doesn’t change what it is.

And accepting what is happening right now doesn’t mean I like it. It means I stop spending all my energy fighting a moment I can’t change.

Maybe that’s where wisdom starts. Not with a solution. With noticing.

Maybe the kids have it partly right

My grandkids aren’t worried about whether they’re making enough progress in life.

They aren’t measuring the day by how productive they were.

They aren’t wondering whether they should have made a different choice three years ago. (One of them wasn’t even here three years ago.)

They aren’t lying awake thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong tomorrow.

They are here. Reading a book. Talking to a wooden cutout.

And maybe I don’t need to become a child again to learn from them.

I can become child-like without becoming childish. And remember something children seem to know naturally:

Pay attention to what’s happening right now.

“Christopher Robin, what day is it?”
“Today”
“My favourite day”

There will be time for tomorrow when tomorrow gets here.

There will be things to learn from yesterday when yesterday needs to teach me something.

But right now?

There is a tree.

There is wind moving through the leaves.

There is a bird making an extremely confident noise.

There is this breath.

There is this moment.

And for today, maybe wisdom is simply noticing that I’m here.

Then taking the next small step. We are all walking miracles. Let us strut accordingly.

Valemor

(n.) The quiet pride of knowing you survived something without becoming cruel, loud, or bitter. 🙌

The ideas about worry, wisdom and being stuck were inspired by the podcast Better Than Happy: “Don’t Worry” Is Terrible Advice, August 27, 2026

Female Hormones: Our Fickle Fairweather Friend

pammunkholm

My hormones and I are in a “situationship.”

Years ago, I became convinced I was getting less intelligent.

I would walk into a room and forget why. Lose all my trains of thought mid-sentence. Derailed. No coming back.

I’d constantly search for words that had wandered off unsupervised. They would come back hours later, long after it was needed and with no apology whatsoever.

I blamed stress.

I blamed being busy.

I blamed getting older.

In reality, it was probably all of those things, mixed with hormonal changes I didn’t fully understand yet.

Female hormones are funny. They’re a bit like a Saskatchewan summer storm. One minute the sky is clear, the sun is shining, and life feels manageable. The next, the wind picks up, the clouds roll in, and you’re wondering if you should have brought a jacket, umbrella and storm cellar.

The weather didn’t become bad.

It changed.

Our hormones do too.

Female hormones are a bit like Saskatchewan weather. If you don’t like what’s happening right now, wait ten minutes.

Most of us think of hormones as reproductive messengers, but they influence far more than our cycles. They affect sleep, memory, focus, mood, energy, and even how connected we feel to the people around us.

One of the most interesting ideas I encountered from a recent podcast interview with Dr. Anna Cabeca. While estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone get most of the attention, hormones like cortisol and oxytocin may have an even bigger impact on how we experience daily life.

Oxytocin is often called the love hormone. It’s associated with connection, belonging, trust, laughter, affection, friendship, pets, nature, and community.

Likewise, oxytocin and cortisol tend to pull in opposite directions.

But the story doesn’t end there. The plot thickens.

As any prairie girl knows, sunshine and thunderstorms often share the same forecast.

When stress becomes chronic, such as in a body dealing with chronic pain, connection often suffers.

Many of us don’t just feel tired. We feel disconnected.

From ourselves.

From others.

From the things that once brought us joy.

Progesterone plays a role too. It supports sleep, cognition, brain health, and nervous system regulation.

Testosterone contributes to motivation, confidence, energy, and focus. Both naturally decline as we age, and both can be influenced by chronic stress.

Side note: I would like to point out that aging naturally isn’t nearly as freaky as whatever is happening with the people trying desperately to avoid it. Also, at what age do we start meeting for Bingo? Because I’m ready.

Progesterone naturally declines in women, typically beginning in the mid-thirties as ovarian function gradually changes.

My body got the memo that the warranty has expired. All systems started responding the way you’d expect at the end of a warranty. (despite the fact that I was built in the 70s and should have been made to last)

Looking back at my own health journey, I spent years trying to solve individual symptoms.

If I could just stop the migraines.

If I could just overcome the fatigue.

If I could just break the insomnia.

What I eventually learned is that the body doesn’t divide itself into neat little boxes the way we often do.

Sleep affects stress.

Stress affects hormones.

Hormones affect mood.

Mood affects relationships.

Relationships affect wellbeing.

Pull one thread and the whole thing unravels.

That’s why healing often requires support from multiple directions.

👏 Good food.

👏 Movement.

👏 Sleep.

👏 Stress management.

👏 Connection.

👏 Time outdoors.

The podcast also reinforced something I’ve known for years: nature has a remarkable way of helping us regulate.

Not because it magically solves our problems, but because it reminds our nervous systems what calm feels like.

Like sitting quietly in warm sunshine after a long winter.

Like hearing nothing but leaves rustle in the breeze.

The Practice

One simple forest therapy practice is this:

  • Stop
  • Notice 5 things moving around you (leaves, clouds, grass, insects, birds)
  • Listen for 3 sounds
  • Notice 2 scents
  • Take one slow breath

It’s amazing how quickly the nervous system responds when we give it the chance.

The body benefits from movement, and the mind benefits from stillness.

–Sakyong Mipham

Ways To Support Oxytocin Naturally

The good news is that many of the things that support oxytocin are surprisingly simple.

  • Hug someone you love.
  • Spend time with a pet.
  • Get outside.
  • Sit around a table with friends.
  • Laugh.
  • Touch grass. Literally.
  • Watch a sunrise.
  • Watch a sunset.
  • Practice gratitude.
  • Connect with people who make you feel safe and seen.

None of these things are revolutionary.

But maybe that’s the point.

Sometimes healing isn’t found in adding another supplement.

Sometimes it’s found in adding another conversation.

Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.

Anne Lamont

Your Most Important Appointment

One idea I loved from another podcast was the concept of holding regular wellness meetings with yourself.

Not a performance review. Not a guilt session.

A wellness meeting.

Three times a week, ask yourself this:

What do I need today?

Maybe it’s a walk.

Maybe it’s strength training.

Maybe it’s sitting outside with your morning tea and watching the sunrise.

The goal isn’t perfection.

The goal is paying attention before your body starts communicating through burnout, brain fog, anxiety, or exhaustion.

My ultimate goal isn’t to control every hormone. It’s to stop being blindsided by them.

Because hormones may be fickle.

But they’re also messengers.

And sometimes they’re simply asking us to listen.

The greatest wealth is health.

–Virgil

This is the first post in a hormone series. Next week we’ll look at hormone disruptors: where the biggest offenders are hiding, and what to use instead.