advice
Advice and tips on managing mental health, maintaining a positive outlook and becoming your happiest self.
When My World Paused for a Stranger - Austin Shivaji Kumar
I remember the exact platform. Dadar station. The financial and chaos capital of Mumbai. The kind of place where the air feels thick with movement, where a thousand footsteps stomp through your silence. You don’t get a second to think. Or feel.
By Austin Shivaji Kumarabout a year ago in Psyche
The Forgotten Language of Touch: How Physical Contact Shapes Our Emotional Well-being
In a world dominated by screens and digital expressions, we have learned to communicate through messages, emojis, and reactions. We connect in online meetings, express love with virtual hearts, and offer condolences through comment sections. Yet, in our reliance on words and technology, we’ve drifted away from one of the oldest and most profound forms of communication—physical touch.
By Mysteries with Professor Jahaniabout a year ago in Psyche
The Invisible Weight: Living with the Emotional Baggage We Don’t Talk About
The Backpack No One Sees When my friend Julia died suddenly in a car accident, her husband, Mark, showed up to her funeral wearing a crisp suit and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He shook hands, accepted casseroles, and thanked everyone for their support. Two years later, at a dinner party, he casually mentioned he still sets a place for her at the table. The room fell silent. No one knew what to say—not because they didn’t care, but because grief, like so much of our emotional baggage, lives in the shadows.
By Mysteries with Professor Jahaniabout a year ago in Psyche
How Small Acts of Kindness Changed My Perspective on the World
The Day a Stranger’s Umbrella Taught Me About Humanity It was a gray, drizzly afternoon in Kyoto when I first grasped the quiet power of kindness. I stood outside a train station, drenched and frustrated, silently berating myself for forgetting my umbrella. Out of nowhere, a woman in her sixties—her silver hair peeking beneath a sunhat despite the rain—paused beside me. Without speaking, she opened her bright red umbrella and held it over both of us. We walked in silence for two blocks until she nodded toward my destination: a tucked-away tea shop. When I thanked her, she smiled and said, “The rain feels lighter when shared.” Her words lingered long after the clouds parted.
By Mysteries with Professor Jahaniabout a year ago in Psyche
Conflict-Resolution Techniques
Conflict-resolution is a great technique for rebuilding and maintaining relationships because it encourages communication. Instead of having yelling matches across the room, conflict-resolution forces you to work with the person to find a solution to your problem. You both must come to an agreement and a consensus as to how you will proceed through this difficulty or disagreement. This can sometimes be very challenging for people, but the reward is building a stronger bond with this person.
By Slgtlyscatt3redabout a year ago in Psyche
Tumours Change Everything and Nothing At All
Inspiration stems from the iconic and unforgettable line from the New Amsterdam TV series where Dr Max Goodwin (played by Ryan Eggold) was told by one of his patients that "Cancer changes everything and nothing at all."
By Justine Crowleyabout a year ago in Psyche
I Confronted My Inner Child—and Everything Changed
We carry our past like invisible luggage—heavy, worn, and often forgotten. But what if the person who needs your attention the most isn’t a stranger or even someone from the outside world? What if it’s the child you used to be, waiting quietly within you, still hurting, still hoping? This is the story of how I came face to face with my inner child—and how that moment shattered everything I thought I knew about healing, self-worth, and personal growth. --- For years, I thought I was doing just fine. I had a decent job, a circle of friends, a life that looked “okay” on the outside. I paid my bills, showed up to events, smiled in photos, and posted quotes about gratitude on my story. But inside, there was always this strange ache I couldn’t name. A subtle, gnawing sadness that came and went without warning. I thought it was just stress. Or maybe just how life was supposed to feel once you became an adult. I didn’t know I was carrying around a version of myself that had been silently screaming for years. It all started one late evening, after a long and frustrating day. I was scrolling on my phone, half-listening to a podcast in the background when a phrase caught my ear: “Healing begins when you meet your inner child.” Something about those words made me pause. I’d heard of inner child work before, but always brushed it off as too abstract. Too emotional. Too… soft. But I was tired of feeling like a robot in my own life. That night, I tried something I’d never done before: I sat in silence with myself. No music. No distractions. Just me, my thoughts, and a question that felt almost silly: “Where are you?” At first, nothing happened. My mind wandered. I thought about emails I hadn’t answered, laundry I hadn’t folded. But then, unexpectedly, a memory surfaced—one I hadn’t thought about in years. I saw myself at seven years old. Sitting at the bottom of the staircase in our old house. Knees pulled to my chest. Clutching a crumpled notebook, tears streaming down my face. My dad had just called my drawing "a waste of time" and told me to focus on something “useful.” That little me didn’t understand. He just wanted to be seen. To be proud of something. To be told it was good. In that moment, I felt it—grief, sharp and deep. I started crying, and I didn’t stop for a while. I wasn’t just mourning a drawing or a harsh comment. I was grieving all the parts of myself I had silenced over the years. All the little versions of me that were told to sit down, be quiet, grow up. I realized I had built my entire adult identity on top of unhealed wounds. I chased achievements for validation. I avoided conflict to stay liked. I made myself small in relationships because I feared being “too much.” And every time I ignored my own needs, I was abandoning that little kid inside me all over again. That night, I did something I never thought I’d do. I closed my eyes and imagined sitting beside that younger version of myself. I told him everything he needed to hear: “I’m so sorry they made you feel invisible.” “You were never a burden.” “You are creative. You are worthy. You are enough.” It wasn’t a magic fix, but it was a beginning. And beginnings are powerful. Since that night, I’ve made it a practice to check in with my inner child regularly. Sometimes, it’s a journal entry. Sometimes, it’s a quiet walk where I simply ask, “How are you feeling?” There are days he feels scared, especially when I’m taking risks or speaking up for myself. And I’ve learned not to push that fear away, but to hold it gently and respond with love. I began noticing how many of my “adult” struggles were just echoes of unresolved childhood pain. My fear of being judged wasn’t about coworkers—it was about being laughed at in school. My anxiety around relationships wasn’t about my partner—it was about not feeling safe to express emotions as a kid. Connecting these dots didn’t just give me clarity—it gave me freedom. Healing my inner child changed the way I live: I no longer perform for approval—I express myself authentically. I no longer suppress emotions—I give myself space to feel them. I no longer see vulnerability as weakness—I see it as a return to truth. I even started drawing again. At first, my hand trembled. That inner critic, shaped by years of shame, still whispered doubts. But I kept going. I bought crayons, colored pencils, messy markers. I let that little version of me play again, and for the first time in forever—I felt joy that wasn’t tied to productivity or praise. Just joy for its own sake. This journey hasn’t been easy. Sometimes healing feels like breaking. But the beautiful thing is—you’re not breaking apart. You’re breaking open. Opening to the parts of you that have been buried beneath expectations, fear, and time. If you’ve ever felt lost, disconnected, or like something’s missing—you’re not broken. You’re probably just overdue for a conversation with the version of you that still believes in magic. Still trusts easily. Still hurts deeply. Still hopes. So let me say this, to your inner child: I see you. I hear you. You are enough. You always were. --- Final Thoughts: The day I confronted my inner child was the day everything shifted. Not because the world changed—but because I did.
By Gift Abotsi about a year ago in Psyche
🎯 The Nostalgia Paradox: Why We Keep Looking Back in a Forward-Moving World . AI-Generated.
"Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days." — Doug Larson We live in a paradox. Every day, we wake up in a world that is accelerating forward—technologically, socially, and even existentially. We have artificial intelligence completing sentences, space tourism in development, and near-daily breakthroughs in science. Yet, amidst all this futuristic noise, our cultural compass points backwards.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıranabout a year ago in Psyche
Title: The Psychology of Belonging. AI-Generated.
We live in an era that glorifies the individual. "Be yourself," they say. "You don't need anyone." We champion the self-made entrepreneur, the solitary genius, the fiercely independent thinker. And yet, beneath the glossy Instagram quotes and TED talks about self-reliance, a quieter truth persists—humans desperately need to belong. Not just to survive, but to feel whole.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıranabout a year ago in Psyche
Covert Narcissism: 10 Hidden Signs and How to Protect Yourself Emotionally
A delicate skill, covert narcissism is a sneaky technique of manipulation disguised under smiles, pretended apathy, and deliberate detachment. From my experience, there is a pattern — a set of hidden narcissist signals — that expose their actual character even if they carefully hide their methods. I will reveal ten hidden indicators of covert narcissism today and walk over how you could emotionally defend yourself from these poisonous tactics. Prepare yourself: many people overlook until it is too late the silent, but terrible, weaponizing of disengagement and other covert measures that follow.
By Waleed Ahmedabout a year ago in Psyche
🐔 The Chicken and The Dictator: A Chilling Allegory for Modern Times.
🐔 The Chicken and The Dictator: A Chilling Allegory for Modern Times ✍️ 🪶 Introduction: A Featherless Truth History has a strange way of repeating itself—not always in exact actions, but through patterns and power plays that echo across generations. One such disturbing parable involves a dictator, a chicken, and a horrifying lesson in manipulation.
By PRABAL TR PROabout a year ago in Psyche
