DR. Rizaldy R. Ferrer, PHD

Licensed Psychologist | Online psychological services available across participating PSYPACT states

Tag: Mindfulness (Page 1 of 2)

Why We Remember Experiences More Than Time

Summer often seems to disappear faster than we expect. One reason may be that our brains don’t remember life by counting the days that pass—they remember the moments that stand out.

Research suggests that experiences that are new or emotionally meaningful are more likely to be stored as lasting memories than routine, predictable events (Schacter, Addis, & Buckner, 2007). When our days follow the same pattern, they tend to blend together. But even small moments of novelty—trying a new café, taking a different walking route, watching a sunset, or having an uninterrupted conversation—can make a season feel richer in hindsight.

This helps explain why a summer filled with meaningful moments often feels fuller in retrospect than one spent constantly busy. It’s not necessarily about doing more. Often, it’s about noticing more and being fully present for the experiences we’re already having.

As summer winds down, it may be worth asking yourself a different question. Instead of, “How much did I accomplish?” consider asking, “What moments do I want to remember?” More often than we realize, the memories that stay with us aren’t the biggest events—they’re the ordinary moments that we truly experienced.

Reference

Schacter, D. L., Addis, D. R., & Buckner, R. L. (2007). Remembering the past to imagine the future: The prospective brain. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 8(9), 657–661.

The Night We Try Too Hard

“Just shut up.” That’s what he told himself the night before. He said it out loud, lying in bed, staring into the dark. “I don’t have to think about this right now. I can think about it tomorrow.” But the mind didn’t stop.

Mark is almost 50 and has always been a good sleeper. He told me that sleep was never really an issue for most of his life—maybe a few short periods here and there, but nothing that lasted. This time was different. It had been going on for over a year now, and recently, it had become almost every night.

He said he went to bed around ten. Still awake at two. Got up, read for a bit, started to feel sleepy again, went back to bed—and then it started all over. “The mind is just… twirling,” he said. “It just keeps going.”

I asked what the thoughts were about.

He paused for a moment, then said something that shifted the direction of the session.“It’s not even like I’m worrying,” he said. “I’m just… going back over my life. Thinking about people. Remembering things.” There was no urgency in the content. No clear problem to solve. Just a stream of memories, one leading to another. “And I don’t really have anyone to share those things with anymore,” he added.

What he was describing didn’t sound like a problem to fix. It sounded like something trying to be expressed. I told him something I’ve come to believe more over time—that we are, in many ways, life tellers. We carry experiences, moments, conversations, people. During the day, we share pieces of those without thinking much about it. But at night, when there’s no one to tell them to, they don’t disappear.

“I never thought of it that way,” he said. But even as we talked about that, something else was happening. The frustration wasn’t just about the thoughts anymore. It was about the sleep. “It’s become a thing now,” he said. “Like, I’m already thinking—what’s it going to be tonight?”

That shift matters. Because at that point, the problem is no longer just what’s on your mind. The problem becomes the experience of not sleeping. I reflected that this sounded similar to what we see in panic. It’s often not the first episode that keeps the cycle going—it’s the fear of it happening again. The same pattern can happen with sleep. The more we try to make it happen, the more we notice when it doesn’t. And the more we try. And the more it doesn’t.

He nodded. “Yeah… that sounds right.”

We talked about the things he had already been trying. Reading before bed. Changing routines. Getting up when he couldn’t sleep. Even wondering if he needed to change what he was doing altogether. All reasonable. All familiar. And yet, something about it felt like it was adding more pressure. So I said something that might have sounded unexpected. “I don’t want to fix your sleep.” He looked at me for a second. I clarified. “What I mean is—I’m not trying to give you something that will make you sleep better. I’m more interested in what you can create.”

We talked about small things. Movement during the day. Gentle activity that fits his body. Maybe exploring something like seated exercises or tai chi. Paying attention to what he eats, not as restriction, but as awareness. But I was careful to say this clearly. “These are not things you do so you can sleep.” He smiled a little. “That’s different.” Instead, I said, these are things you create because they add to your life. They support your wellbeing. And if sleep improves, then that becomes an outcome—not the goal.

He paused, then said, “So instead of thinking, ‘This will help me sleep,’ I could think, ‘This will feel good to do.’”

“Yes,” I said. “Exactly.” That shift may seem small, but it changes the direction entirely. Because when the goal is to fix sleep, everything becomes a test. Did it work? Did I sleep? Why didn’t it work? What do I try next? But when the goal is to create a life that feels more whole, the pressure lifts.

In research, we see that the more effort people put into trying to control sleep, the more alert they can become. The mind starts monitoring, checking, staying on guard (Harvey, 2002). And approaches that move toward acceptance—allowing the night to be what it is—often begin to ease that cycle (Ong et al., 2012).

Sleep doesn’t respond well to pressure. It doesn’t come because we demand it. It comes when the conditions allow it.

Toward the end of the session, he said something quietly. “I think I’ve been trying too hard.” I didn’t disagree.

As I thought about it later, it struck me how often this happens—not just with sleep, but with many things we struggle with. The more we try to fix what feels broken, the more attention we give to what’s wrong. And sometimes, that’s the very thing that keeps it going. Sleep, in that way, is different. It’s not something we force. It’s something we allow. And sometimes, it returns not when we finally find the right solution—but when we stop trying so hard to solve it.

References

Harvey, A. G. (2002). A cognitive model of insomnia. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 40(8), 869–893.

Ong, J. C., Ulmer, C. S., & Manber, R. (2012). Improving sleep with mindfulness and acceptance: A metacognitive model of insomnia. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 50(11), 651–660.re are sessions where something feels urgent, and then there are sessions where something feels settled. Today was the latter. Nothing needed fixing, but something important was clear.

Not too long ago, work made Avery miserable. Just months into a role that was meant to be the high point of their career, Avery realized it wasn’t something they wanted to continue for the rest of their working life. So, they chose to step away. There was no immediate plan—just some time off. Along the way, they took a few consultancy work, not as part of a bigger strategy, but because they felt right in the moment.

And now, Avery talked about a possible full-time job. It might mean moving, and it pays less than what they used to earn. Yet, there was no tension in their voice. If it works out, it works out. If not, they would be okay. Before, decisions came from pressure—the need to fix, to prove, to secure something quickly. Now, they came from intention. Not busy, but active.

Avery described something different. Over the past year, they had been letting things unfold rather than forcing outcomes. And somehow, opportunities still came. In some ways, more easily. I pointed out that this was not a lack of effort. It was a shift in how effort was used. It was less about control and more about choice. This is something we often see in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy—moving forward based on values, not fear, even when the outcome is uncertain (Hayes, Strosahl, & Wilson, 1999).

We talked about how Avery works now. The schedule is flexible. The pace is different. It may not look like much from the outside, but Avery feels engaged. Clear.

That led to a distinction I often make. There is a difference between being busy and being active. Busy comes with pressure. It is often about proving something. Active is quieter. It is still effort, but it is chosen. Avery added something important. Busy feels performative.

There is a belief that being tired means being valuable. That the more you do, the more you matter. But Avery stepped away from that. Their work no longer needed to be seen to feel real. It just needed to feel enough.

This lines up with what we know from self-determination theory. People feel better when their actions come from choice and meaning, not pressure (Deci & Ryan, 2000). Avery was no longer working to prove something. They were working in a way that fit.

We then talked about money. The new job pays much less. Before, that would have felt like a loss. Now, Avery said something different. They realized they do not need as much as they once thought. This was not just about money. It was about how Avery now understands economic wellbeing. It was no longer about chasing a number. It was about asking, “What supports my life?”

That shift matters. Research shows that it is not the event itself, but the meaning we give it that shapes how we feel (Seligman, 2011). A lower salary can feel like failure, or it can feel like freedom. The number stays the same. The meaning changes.

I asked Avery what they liked about the job beyond the pay. The answer came quickly—working with people, building relationships, helping others grow. As they spoke, it felt natural, almost easy. Like something they already knew about themselves.

Near the end, I reflected on what Avery said that this job’s salary offer felt like enough. It meant that they were no longer starting from a place of lack. I told them that when you already feel enough, anything more would be a bonus.

References

Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (2000). The “what” and “why” of goal pursuits: Human needs and the self-determination of behavior. Psychological Inquiry, 11(4), 227–268.

Hayes, S. C., Strosahl, K. D., & Wilson, K. G. (1999). Acceptance and commitment therapy: An experiential approach to behavior change. Guilford Press.

Seligman, M. E. P. (2011). Flourish: A visionary new understanding of happiness and well-being. Free Press.

Why Self-Compassion Feels So Difficult

Many people find it easier to be compassionate toward others than toward themselves. A person may comfort a struggling friend with patience and understanding, yet respond to their own mistakes with harsh criticism. This pattern is so common that many individuals mistake self-criticism for responsibility or motivation, believing that being hard on themselves will push them to improve.

Psychologist Kristin Neff describes self-compassion as treating yourself with the same care, understanding, and humanity you would offer someone you love (Neff, 2003). Self-compassion does not mean avoiding accountability or pretending everything is fine. Instead, it involves recognizing that mistakes, setbacks, and emotional pain are part of being human. Research shows that people with higher levels of self-compassion tend to experience lower levels of anxiety, depression, and burnout while also demonstrating greater emotional resilience (Neff & Germer, 2013).

One reason self-compassion can feel uncomfortable is because many people associate softness with weakness. In cultures that emphasize productivity and achievement, gentleness toward oneself may feel undeserved unless it has been “earned” through success. However, studies suggest that chronic self-criticism activates the brain’s threat system, increasing stress responses and emotional exhaustion over time (Gilbert, 2009). Compassion, in contrast, helps activate systems associated with safety, emotional regulation, and connection.

Learning self-compassion often begins with small shifts in language. Instead of asking, “Why am I like this?” after a mistake, a person might ask, “What do I need right now?” Instead of assuming failure means inadequacy, they might recognize that struggling is part of growth. Self-compassion does not remove challenges from life, but it changes the emotional environment in which those challenges are faced. And sometimes, that softer environment is exactly what allows healing to begin.

 

References

Gilbert, P. (2009). The compassionate mind: A new approach to life’s challenges. New Harbinger Publications.

Neff, K. D. (2003). Self-compassion: An alternative conceptualization of a healthy attitude toward oneself. Self and Identity, 2(2), 85–101. https://doi.org/10.1080/15298860309032

Neff, K. D., & Germer, C. K. (2013). A pilot study and randomized controlled trial of the mindful self‐compassion program. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 69(1), 28–44. https://doi.org/10.1002/jclp.21923

Gilbert, P. (2009). The compassionate mind: A new approach to life’s challenges. New Harbinger Publications.

Neff, K. D. (2003). Self-compassion: An alternative conceptualization of a healthy attitude toward oneself. Self and Identity, 2(2), 85–101. https://doi.org/10.1080/15298860309032

Neff, K. D., & Germer, C. K. (2013). A pilot study and randomized controlled trial of the mindful self‐compassion program. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 69(1), 28–44. https://doi.org/10.1002/jclp.21923

The Wins We Often Miss

Most of us move through the day with a quiet mental checklist. There are emails to answer, errands to run, responsibilities to meet, and expectations—both our own and others’—that we try to keep up with. By the end of the day, when we pause to evaluate how things went, our attention often goes straight to what remains unfinished.

What we didn’t do.
What we could have done better.
What still needs fixing tomorrow.

But rarely do we stop to ask a different question:
What actually went right today?

The Wins That Go Unnoticed

In everyday life, progress is often subtle. It might look like responding calmly during a stressful conversation, completing a task you had been putting off, or simply choosing to rest when you needed it.

These moments may feel ordinary, but they represent small decisions that move us forward. Yet many of them pass unnoticed because our attention is naturally drawn to problems that still need solving.

Psychologists refer to this tendency as the negativity bias—the brain’s inclination to give greater attention and weight to negative experiences than positive ones (Baumeister et al., 2001; Rozin & Royzman, 2001). From an evolutionary perspective, this bias helped humans remain alert to potential threats. In modern life, however, it can lead us to overlook the many things that are quietly going well.

Why Small Wins Matter in Daily Life

Small wins are not always dramatic or impressive. In fact, their importance often lies in their simplicity. They are the moments where effort meets intention, even if the outcome seems modest.

Finishing a short task.
Showing patience during a difficult moment.
Taking one step toward something you care about.

These actions may not feel like milestones, but they are signs of movement.

Research on motivation suggests that recognizing progress—even incremental progress—can strengthen engagement and positive emotion in everyday work and life (Amabile & Kramer, 2011). When people notice that their actions are moving them forward, they are more likely to remain committed and continue making effort.

Learning to Notice Progress

One of the most helpful habits we can develop is simply learning to notice the progress that already exists.

At the end of the day, instead of asking only what remains undone, try asking yourself:

“What was one thing I handled well today?”

The answer may be small. But recognizing it allows the mind to register progress rather than focusing only on pressure.

Life rarely changes all at once. More often, it unfolds through a series of ordinary choices repeated over time.

And sometimes the most meaningful wins are the ones we almost miss.

References

Amabile, T. M., & Kramer, S. J. (2011). The progress principle: Using small wins to ignite joy, engagement, and creativity at work. Harvard Business Review Press.

Baumeister, R. F., Bratslavsky, E., Finkenauer, C., & Vohs, K. D. (2001). Bad is stronger than good. Review of General Psychology, 5(4), 323–370. https://doi.org/10.1037/1089-2680.5.4.323

Rozin, P., & Royzman, E. B. (2001). Negativity bias, negativity dominance, and contagion. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 5(4), 296–320. https://doi.org/10.1207/S15327957PSPR0504_2

Positivity Isn’t Fake — It’s Fuel

Positive thinking isn’t about ignoring reality — it’s about choosing where to place your attention. Our brains are evolutionarily wired to detect threats, which helped early humans survive but now often amplifies stress, anxiety, and burnout in modern life.

Deliberate attention training — like noticing a kind word, a moment of peace, or a small win — helps us develop what neuroscientists call positive neuroplasticity. This refers to the brain’s ability to reshape itself through repeated focus on beneficial experiences (Hanson, 2013).

Research shows that even a few minutes a day spent savoring positive experiences leads to measurable improvements in wellbeing. In one study, participants who engaged in loving-kindness practices experienced increased life satisfaction, decreased symptoms of depression, and improved physical health (Fredrickson et al., 2004).

Positivity doesn’t mean denying difficulties — it means making space for what’s good too. That small shift in focus can be a powerful force for emotional resilience and renewal.

Takeaway: Notice the good. Let it land. You’re not being unrealistic — you’re building strength.

 

References

Fredrickson, B. L., Cohn, M. A., Coffey, K. A., Pek, J., & Finkel, S. M. (2008). Open hearts build lives: Positive emotions, induced through loving-kindness meditation, build consequential personal resources. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 95(5), 1045–1062. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0013262
Hanson, R. (2013). Hardwiring happiness: The new brain science of contentment, calm, and confidence. Harmony Books.

Living with Anxiety: Turning the Mind’s What If Into a What Now

Anxiety is a universal human experience. It’s not just the 30% of people who will meet criteria for an anxiety disorder in their lifetime (Bandelow & Michaelis, 2015). It’s the friend who can’t sleep before a big meeting, the parent who mentally runs through a dozen worst-case scenarios before their child even leaves the driveway, or the student who rewrites a text message three times before pressing send.

Our brains evolved to anticipate. This remarkable ability to look ahead has kept humans alive for millennia—it’s why early hunter-gatherers carried tools before they needed them and why we pack an umbrella when the forecast calls for rain. But the same foresight that allows us to prepare can also trap us in mental simulations of disaster, living in the tension of problems that haven’t happened yet—and may never happen at all.

From Story to Narrative—and Back Again

I hear the same underlying struggles in my recent therapy sessions with patients. One worries that a partner’s habits might shape their child’s future in harmful ways. Another lay awake imagining a tragic bike accident before their child even left the house.

Both situations were rooted in what I call the difference between story and narrative:

  • The story is what is actually happening right now.
  • The narrative is the version of events our mind constructs, often based on fear, assumption, or incomplete information.

When we mistake the narrative for the story, we start responding emotionally to a movie in our head rather than the facts in front of us. That’s where anxiety thrives.

What Science Says About Why We Worry

Modern research tells us anxiety is shaped by multiple forces—biological, cognitive, and environmental.

  • Trait vs. state anxiety (Spielberger, 1983) explains why some people tend to feel anxious across many situations, while others experience it only under specific stressors.
  • Reinforcement sensitivity theory (Gray & McNaughton, 2000) describes how an overactive “behavioral inhibition system” makes us extra alert to potential threats.
  • The tripartite model (Clark & Watson, 1991) helps explain why anxiety often overlaps with depression, highlighting shared features like negative mood and unique features like physiological arousal.
  • Recent neuroscience adds another layer: stress can actually alter gene expression through epigenetic mechanisms, potentially making us more sensitive to anxiety triggers over time (Zannas & West, 2014).

What these theories have in common is the recognition that anxiety isn’t just “in your head”—it’s a complex interaction between brain, body, and lived experience.

Worrying vs. Planning: A Crucial Distinction

Here’s the important part: worrying is never a requirement for effective action.

  • Worrying is imagining the future as if it’s already gone wrong, then reacting to that imagined outcome.
  • Planning is choosing an action in the present, without demanding that the future turn out a certain way.

Both are future-oriented, but only planning moves you forward. Worry burns energy; planning invests it.

What Works: From Therapy Room to Daily Life

In those sessions, the shift came from turning worry into intention. The process looked like this:

  1. Catch it early — Recognize, “This is worry.” Naming it interrupts the spiral.
  2. Anchor in the present — Ask, “What needs my attention right now?”
  3. Plan without prediction — Choose one next step without adding “and it must work out this way.”
  4. Use external supports — Reminders, notes, or scheduled check-ins to keep you aligned with action rather than rumination.
  5. Reframe the narrative — Replace “This will go badly” with “I’ll handle whatever comes.”

These strategies echo what research shows works best for anxiety: cognitive-behavioral methods to challenge distorted thoughts (Beck & Clark, 1997), mindfulness to stay in the present (Hofmann et al., 2010), and acceptance-based approaches that allow worry to exist without letting it steer the wheel (Hayes et al., 2006).

Try This Today

If you find yourself caught in “what if” thinking:

  • Pause and label it: “This is a narrative, not the story.”
  • Shift to a “what now” mindset: “What’s the smallest action I can take in the next 10 minutes?”
  • Ground yourself in sensory details—the sound of a kettle, the texture of your desk, the feel of your feet on the floor.
  • Close the loop by acting on your plan, no matter how small.

Final Thought

The challenge is not to silence our worries completely but to respond skillfully, using it as a prompt to plan instead of a trap and a downward spiral. When we can move from “what if” to “what now,” we reclaim the energy that worry steals and put it toward a present moment that we actually want to live in.

Read more from Rizaldy R. Ferrer, Ph.D.

References

Bandelow, B., & Michaelis, S. (2015). Epidemiology of anxiety disorders in the 21st century. Dialogues in Clinical Neuroscience, 17(3), 327–335.

Beck, A. T., & Clark, D. A. (1997). An information processing model of anxiety: Automatic and strategic processes. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 35(1), 49–58.

Clark, L. A., & Watson, D. (1991). Tripartite model of anxiety and depression. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 100(3), 316–336.

Gray, J. A., & McNaughton, N. (2000). The neuropsychology of anxiety: An enquiry into the functions of the septo-hippocampal system. Oxford University Press.

Hayes, S. C., Strosahl, K. D., & Wilson, K. G. (2006). Acceptance and Commitment Therapy: An experiential approach to behavior change. Guilford Press.

Hofmann, S. G., Sawyer, A. T., Witt, A. A., & Oh, D. (2010). The effect of mindfulness-based therapy on anxiety and depression: A meta-analytic review. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 78(2), 169–183.

Spielberger, C. D. (1983). Manual for the State-Trait Anxiety Inventory. Consulting Psychologists Press.

Zannas, A. S., & West, A. E. (2014). Epigenetics and the regulation of stress vulnerability and resilience. Neuroscience, 264, 157–170.

Self-Care is Free, Tapping Your Credit Card Is Not Necessary

Have you ever seen an ad with someone standing barefoot in the grass, simply breathing in the fresh air and connecting with the world around them? Probably not. That’s because no company will pay for it without selling anything! But how often do you see ads promising happiness through an expensive getaway, a luxury meal, or a trendy wellness product? All the time.

This contrast came to mind during a recent therapy session with a patient. Edward came into session completely drained—not just from recovering after being sick, but from carrying the weight of everything at once: marriage tension, communication struggles, parenting responsibilities, and job demands. The stress had built up over time, and now, even small conversations with his wife sparked defensiveness and misinterpretation.

Throughout the session, he repeated these two sentiments frequently: feeling exhausted and overwhelmed, as if they were everything that consumed him every day—as if he were completely helpless. So, I asked him how he had been taking care of himself. His answer was simple and honest.

Dr. Ferrer: “How do you take care of yourself when everything feels overwhelming?”
Edward: “About two weeks ago, I went on a short vacation by myself at Joshua Tree. I dreaded driving back home. But since then, I’ve not done anything.

Dr. Ferrer: Besides all the responsibilities you take care of, what other activities do you do that are entirely for yourself?

Edward: Well, I guess I take a nap while my daughter is at daycare or when she’s also asleep. I take a shower and that feel refreshing. I play my drums or the guiatar, but I haven’t done that in a while.”
Me: “That’s good. Did any of those moments feel helpful to you?”
Edward: “They did… but I didn’t think of them as self-care.”

That last line stuck with me. He was doing things that clearly helped him cope—but he didn’t label them as self-care. Because of that, they didn’t feel like they counted. As we kept talking, three key ideas came into focus—ideas that shaped my observation, that I processed with him, and that I want to share with you in this article.

Spending on Self-Care

In American culture, it seems that self-care has often been co-opted by consumerism, where it’s equated with indulgent lifestyle purchases. This commodification of care can obscure the original intention of self-care, especially for individuals under chronic stress, caregiving burdens, or systemic pressures.

In their analysis of wellness culture, Johnston and Goodman (2015) argue that contemporary self-care is deeply intertwined with neoliberal ideologies, where wellbeing is viewed as an individual’s responsibility and proof of productivity—even in rest. Spending money on oneself becomes the legitimized way to signal that one is “doing it right.” This mindset can inadvertently devalue simple but biologically and emotionally restorative practices—like grounding, napping, breathing, or pausing—because they don’t come with a receipt.

Furthermore, psychologist Dr. Laurie Santos, who teaches Yale’s popular “Science of Well-Being” course, points out that happiness and wellbeing are not strongly correlated with material consumption, despite what marketing suggests. Her course—and its evidence-based framework—stresses the impact of gratitude, mindfulness, and social connection, which cost nothing but offer substantial returns on wellbeing (Santos, 2019).

When self-care is linked to cost, we miss out on the value of the care we already give ourselves for free. Consequently, we end the day thinking we didn’t do anything for ourselves, even if we did. Edward had taken care of himself in real, practical ways, but he equated self-care with the solo camping trip he took a few weeks ago—something that clearly had cost him. Since returning, he was just experiencing exhaustion because he was only paying attention to the demands of his responsibilities. This connects with what psychologists call the negativity bias—the brain’s habit of focusing more on what’s wrong than what’s right (Baumeister et al., 2001). If we fail to notice the good we’re doing for ourselves, we’re left with the false impression that we’re only surviving, not living or being.

Edward shared that when he rests—especially in the middle of the day—he sometimes feels lazy. Even if he’s tired. Even if he’s earned that break. Even if he needs it. This shame around rest is deeply rooted in our culture. In America, rest often feels like something we have to justify. Productivity is praised. Doing nothing is questioned. Dr. Laurie Santos, who teaches The Science of Well-Being at Yale University, reminds us that real wellbeing comes from basic human needs—sleep, mindfulness, connection—not performance or image (Santos, 2019). But when rest makes us feel guilty, it becomes harder to actually receive its benefits.

Research shows that simple, accessible practices—gratitude, movement, rest, connection—have the strongest effects on mental health. We don’t need more stuff. We need more space to notice the care we already give ourselves, and to let it be enough.

Consider This

Edward’s small acts—lying down, playing music, taking a shower—were self-care. But he didn’t recognize them as such, so he kept feeling like he hadn’t done anything for himself. That’s what I want us to shift.

You are likely already doing things that care for your body and mind. But if you don’t let them count, they’ll feel invisible. And when self-care feels invisible, burnout becomes inevitable. You don’t need a plane ticket to care for yourself. You don’t need a receipt. You need rest. You need breath. You need moments that nourish you, even if no one else sees them. Especially if no one else sees them.

So today, when you brush your teeth slowly, or rest your eyes for a minute, or simply lie in silence for a few breaths—say to yourself, this is self-care. But, what other activities can you engage in today that you give attention to and is free—meaning, you don’t have to tap your credit card or smart watch to obtain the product or services you think will make you feel well?

Read more from Rizaldy R. Ferrer, Ph.D.

References

Baumeister, R. F., Bratslavsky, E., Finkenauer, C., & Vohs, K. D. (2001). Bad is stronger than good. Review of General Psychology, 5(4), 323–370. https://doi.org/10.1037/1089-2680.5.4.323

Johnston, J., & Goodman, M. K. (2015). Spectacular foodscapes: Food celebrities and the politics of lifestyle mediation in an age of inequality. Food, Culture & Society, 18(2), 205–222. https://doi.org/10.1080/15528014.2015.1023766

Santos, L. (2019). The Science of Well-Being [Online course]. Yale University. https://www.coursera.org/learn/the-science-of-well-being.

Disclaimer: The information provided in this newsletter is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical or mental health advice. If you are experiencing any mental health issues, please seek professional help. The author of this blog is not liable for any damages or injuries that may result from the use of the information provided here.

When applicable, the names, gender identification, location and/or other identifiable characteristics have been modified to maintain privacy and confidentiality; whilst, still maintaining the integrity of their stories and narratives.

The Neuroscience of Overthinking and Decision Paralysis

Overthinking and decision paralysis happen when certain parts of the brain become too active, especially the prefrontal cortex, amygdala, and basal ganglia. The prefrontal cortex helps with thinking and decision-making, but when there are too many choices, it gets overwhelmed, making decisions harder. The amygdala, which controls emotions, becomes too active under stress, making people feel anxious and unsure. Scientists found that people who overthink have extra activity in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex (DLPFC), which helps with memory and planning (Gillett & Glannon, 2023). This overactivity creates a loop—more stress leads to more overthinking, making choices even more difficult.

Another part of the brain, the basal ganglia, helps with habits and making choices. If it doesn’t work properly, people struggle to take action (Brahmacari, 2018). The anterior cingulate cortex, which helps solve conflicts and spot mistakes, can become overactive, making people second-guess their decisions (Chachane & Jagtap, 2024). But there is good news—scientists say the brain can change and adapt. Mindfulness, neurofeedback, and simple mental exercises can help people break free from overthinking (Capanna-Hodge, 2024).

Ways to Stop Overthinking and Make Decisions Faster

  1. Use the “5-Second Rule” – If you feel stuck, count 5-4-3-2-1 and make a small move toward a decision. This helps stop hesitation.
  2. Set a Time Limit – Give yourself a set time to decide (e.g., “I will choose in 10 minutes”). This prevents endless thinking.
  3. Limit Choices – Too many options create stress. Narrow choices to two or three for easier decisions.
  4. Use Pros and Cons, Then Trust Your Gut – Write a simple list, but also listen to how you feel about the choice.
  5. Take Action Quickly – Even a small step in one direction helps break decision paralysis. Action builds confidence.
  6. Try Deep Breathing or Mindfulness – Breathing slowly calms the amygdala, reducing anxiety and helping clear your mind.
  7. Ask: “Will this matter in 5 years?” – This helps you see if a decision is really important or just feels urgent.
  8. Accept That No Choice is Perfect – Every decision has risks, but moving forward is better than staying stuck.

These simple strategies help the brain stay balanced, reduce stress, and make decisions with more confidence.

References

Brahmacari, D. (2018). Navigating the shadows of society modern woes: Insights and solutions. SSRN. Retrieved from https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4808110

Capanna-Hodge, R. (2024). Neurofeedback for OCD: Overcoming compulsiveness. Retrieved from https://drroseann.com/neurofeedback-for-ocd/

Chachane, L., & Jagtap, S. (2024). Assisting overthinkers to reframe cognitive processes. Journal of Engineering. Retrieved from https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&profile=ehost&scope=site&authtype=crawler&jrnl=23492473&AN=177982964

Gillett, G., & Glannon, W. (2023). Neurodynamics and adaptive behaviour. Springer. Retrieved from https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-3-031-44951-2_2

“Hmm” vs. “Ugh”

Life throws curveballs—missed deadlines, unexpected weather, or even just a bad day. Our reactions to these moments can significantly impact our mental health. Most of us are familiar with the instinctive “ugh,” a reaction rooted in frustration, dismay, or rejection. But what if we replaced “ugh” with “hmm”? This small shift, from resistance to curiosity, can make a big difference in how we navigate life’s challenges.

The Science Behind “Ugh”

“Ugh” is more than just an expression—it’s a manifestation of emotional reactivity. According to Beck’s (1976) cognitive theory, such reactions may arise from distorted thinking. When things don’t go our way, our brains tend to catastrophize or overgeneralize. For instance, spilling coffee might spark an “ugh” followed by the thought, “This ruins my whole day.” This automatic negativity can increase stress and anxiety, trapping us in a cycle of frustration.

Additionally, “ugh” often reflects misperceptions. Imagine planning a beach day, only to encounter rain. The initial “ugh” assumes the trip is ruined. However, this reaction misses the potential for alternative enjoyable activities, such as visiting a local café or spending quality time indoors. By sticking to the “ugh” response, we limit our ability to adapt and find joy in the unexpected.

Why “Hmm” Matters

In contrast, “hmm” embodies curiosity and openness, encouraging us to pause, reflect, and explore. This shift can transform how we experience challenges.

  1. Reduces Negative Judgments. When we respond with “hmm,” we suspend judgment and consider alternative perspectives. Carl Rogers (1951) emphasized the importance of this openness for emotional wellbeing. Instead of thinking, “Ugh, my coworker is so rude,” curiosity might lead us to wonder, “Hmm, what might be going on with them today?”
  2. Encourages Mindfulness. Mindfulness involves staying present and observing experiences without judgment (Kabat-Zinn, 1990). Saying “hmm” instead of “ugh” keeps us grounded, reducing stress and fostering emotional regulation.
  3. Promotes Problem-Solving. The “ugh” mindset focuses on obstacles, while “hmm” seeks solutions. Research on emotion regulation by Gross (1998) shows that reframing situations leads to better outcomes. For example, when a plan falls apart, “hmm, how else can I make this work?” encourages creative thinking.
  4. Fosters Emotional Resilience. A curious approach helps us process emotions more effectively. Asking, “Hmm, why do I feel this way?” can provide insights, reducing the urge to suppress or avoid uncomfortable feelings.

How to Shift from “Ugh” to “Hmm”

Changing your default reaction takes practice, but it’s worth the effort. Here’s how to start:

  1. Notice the “Ugh”
    Pay attention to moments when you react with frustration or dismay. Simply recognizing the “ugh” is a step toward change.
  2. Pause and Reflect
    Instead of jumping to conclusions, take a deep breath and ask yourself a question beginning with “hmm.” For example:

    • “Hmm, what can I learn from this?”
    • “Hmm, how can I approach this differently?”
  1. Reframe the Situation
    Curiosity opens the door to new possibilities. Focus on what you can explore or adapt in the moment rather than dwelling on what went wrong.

Switching from “ugh” to “hmm” is a simple yet powerful tool for improving mental health. Curiosity helps us navigate life with openness and creativity, turning challenges into opportunities for growth. So, the next time life throws you a curveball, pause. Trade the “ugh” for a thoughtful “hmm,” and see how it transforms your perspective.

Read more from Rizaldy R. Ferrer, Ph.D.

References

  • Beck, A. T. (1976). Cognitive therapy and the emotional disorders. International Universities Press.
  • Gross, J. J. (1998). The emerging field of emotion regulation: An integrative review. Review of General Psychology, 2(3), 271–299.
  • Kabat-Zinn, J. (1990). Full catastrophe living: Using the wisdom of your body and mind to face stress, pain, and illness. Delacorte Press.
  • Rogers, C. R. (1951). Client-centered therapy: Its current practice, implications, and theory. Houghton Mifflin.

Creating vs. Fixing

When faced with life challenges, many of us default to “fixing” the difficulties because we assume that they are “broken,” rather than just are inevitable parts of life. Fixing may be an attempt to control every possible outcome in hopes of avoiding discomfort. While this may feel productive, it often fuels anxiety and distances us from the present moment. In contrast, the philosophy of “Creating vs. Fixing” encourages us to shift our focus to proactive, intentional actions that promote well-being in the now. Drawing on mindfulness, cognitive-behavioral practices, and existential psychology, this approach teaches us to live fully in the present while navigating life’s challenges. Let’s explore this transformative mindset through the lens of a therapy session between Cathy and I, a patient preparing for childbirth.

Cathy: I’d like to get some help with my pending childbirth and the fears I have about it. That’s at the top of my mind right now. I’ve mentioned to you before that childbirth has always been something I feared most of my life. And now, any day now, it’s happening. I’m already emotional about it. I’ve been trying not to dwell on it or think too much about it because it genuinely frightens me. I just want to ease that fear because it’s going to happen. If I go into it feeling afraid, I think it will make the experience worse. I want to own as much of the experience as possible because I believe it can be beautiful. But there are so many decisions and unknowns—it’s overwhelming.

Cathy proceeded with how she had been planning about her childbirth.

Dr. Ferrer: You seem to be overanalyzing your childbirth preparation—whether to drink the tea, do yoga stretches, eat the dates or even to determine how much epidural injections should you get. But all those are still making you anxious because you want a guarantee that they will make the process easier and also eliminate the fear you are experiencing recently. What if we shifted the focus from ensuring future success to asking, “What can I create right now that benefits me?”

Cathy: I feel stuck. I keep thinking, if I do all these things and they don’t make childbirth easier, what’s the point of even doing them? It feels like I’m setting myself up for disappointment even more.

Dr. Ferrer: That’s the mindset of “fixing”—doing something now purely to control a future outcome. Instead, let’s ask, “Does this action improve how I feel or function in this moment?” If drinking tea or stretching is better than worrying, then it’s worthwhile, regardless of what happens later.

Understanding the Problem: Fixing the Uncontrollable

The tendency to “fix” is natural. Fixing involves trying to solve or prevent future problems through meticulous analysis and planning. While this approach can be effective for practical tasks, it becomes problematic when applied to situations outside our control. Cathy’s fixation on childbirth preparation, for instance, stems from a desire to control an inherently unpredictable process. This overanalysis not only increases her anxiety but also consumes mental energy that could be used to enhance her current well-being.

The issue with fixing lies in its transactional nature—it’s tied to a specific desired outcome. If the outcome doesn’t align with expectations, the effort feels wasted. This mindset often leads to a cycle of disappointment, self-doubt, and paralysis.

The Alternative: Creating in the Present

In contrast, the argument of “creating” focuses on intentional actions that enhance the present moment, independent of future outcomes. By shifting her focus from controlling childbirth to engaging in meaningful activities, Cathy can redirect her energy toward actions that bring immediate value. Whether it’s deep cleaning her coffee maker, practicing gratitude meditation, or savoring her morning coffee, these acts of creation foster a sense of accomplishment and presence.

Creating isn’t just about productivity; it’s about cultivating a mindset of mindfulness and generativity. For Cathy, stretching or walking doesn’t have to guarantee an easier labor—it’s enough that these activities help her feel grounded and healthy now.

Why Creating Works: A Theoretical Perspective

  1. Mindfulness Theory (Kabat-Zinn, 1990): Creating aligns with mindfulness by anchoring individuals in the present. Mindful actions like gratitude meditations or sensory awareness reduce mental clutter and help individuals step out of anxiety cycles.
  2. Flow Theory (Csikszentmihalyi, 1990): By engaging in meaningful tasks, individuals enter a “flow state,” characterized by deep focus and enjoyment. Cleaning, walking, or stretching can be flow-inducing, helping Cathy feel accomplished and calm.
  3. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (Beck, 1976): Fixing often reflects cognitive distortions like catastrophizing or fortune telling. Creating, on the other hand, aligns with CBT principles by emphasizing actionable, positive behaviors that counter negative thought spirals.
  4. Existential Psychology (Frankl, 1946): Creating connects to the existential idea that meaning arises from proactive engagement with life’s challenges. By focusing on what she can create, Cathy finds purpose in the journey, not just the outcome.

Practical Steps to Shift from Fixing to Creating

To adopt the mindset of creating, consider these practical steps:

  1. Ask, “What can I do now?” Instead of worrying about outcomes, focus on actions that enhance your present.
  2. Engage your senses. Activities like smelling coffee beans or feeling the texture of your sheets can ground you in the moment.
  3. Practice gratitude. Start your day by identifying things you’re thankful for, then immerse yourself in those thoughts.
  4. Create daily intentions. Set achievable, well-being-promoting goals for the day, such as taking a walk or meditating.

A Transformative Perspective

By embracing the philosophy of “Creating vs. Fixing,” Cathy—and anyone grappling with uncertainty—may hopefully reduce anxiety, increase self-efficacy, and find joy in the process of living. This principle doesn’t negate the value of preparation but reframes it as a means to cultivate presence and intention. Life is unpredictable, but our ability to create meaning in the moment is always within our control.

Read more from Rizaldy R. Ferrer, Ph.D.

References:

Beck, A. T. (1976). Cognitive therapy and the emotional disorders. International Universities Press.

Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990). Flow: The psychology of optimal experience. Harper & Row.

Frankl, V. E. (1984). Man’s search for meaning (Rev. ed.). Washington Square Press. (Original work published 1946)

Kabat-Zinn, J. (1990). Full catastrophe living: Using the wisdom of your body and mind to face stress, pain, and illness. Delacorte Press.

Disclaimer: The information provided in this newsletter is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical or mental health advice. If you are experiencing any mental health issues, please seek professional help. The author of this blog is not liable for any damages or injuries that may result from the use of the information provided here.

When applicable, the names, gender identification, location and/or other identifiable characteristics have been modified to maintain privacy and confidentiality; whilst, still maintaining the integrity of their stories and narratives.

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