In Autumn, the Truth is Revealed

In autumn, the truth comes out.

And by autumn, I mean any autumn. Autumn the meteorological season before winter; Autumn on the calendar; Autumn in our life span; and Autumn in the liturgical year.

In every case, if you step back far enough, you can see the patterns. The photo op brilliant foliage reveals what was there all along, shaped by experience.  In spite of the sometimes-brutal clarity of autumn, I love this time of year.

Deciduous trees that turn yellow, gold and orange in autumn are not so much changing color as revealing the color that has been resting underneath, hiding under the green of chlorophyll. As the days grow shorter and cooler, chlorophyll production decreases. The leaves have always been golden. The trees have experiences, and these matter, too. Perhaps there has been plenty of rain and the soil is rich, or perhaps a hurricane has blown off so many small branches that the tree suffers malnutrition from a lack of chlorophyll. Then, too, if it is the sort of tree that turns red, its intensity will be impacted by sugars manufactured and stored; more sweetness makes for a more brilliant red.

In October or November, looking back at the resolutions, motto, word or intentions for the new year, the truth is revealed. In March one might kick that can down the road; even in June there is still “plenty of time.” But in autumn, reality comes to visit. We either did, or did not, step up and out into the life we intended to try to make. The combination of who we are (like it or not) and the experiences thrown at us by life bring the outcome we assess in the autumnal review of our intentions for the year. I’ve had the same motto for years now because apparently I’m a slow learner.

In the mirror, in the season of life poets call autumn, we see the person we have been all along, plus our experiences. The smoothness and sameness of youth is gone for those in midlife and later; laughter and tears, pain and care, habits – good and bad – all are revealed. A twenty-five-year-old might hide bad habits, but by forty-five, the entire body shows the pattern and at sixty-five, odds are the mind and spirit are far from what they promised to become before a bad habit became an addiction. On the other hand, there can be an explosion of energy, creativity and spiritual growth at in the autumn of life that startles those who mistook the responsible behaviors of younger years for that person being “boring.” This is when adult children wonder if their parents have gone a bit crazy – taking up new hobbies, traveling, refusing to be properly “old.” No, they were never actually boring, just busy with lifegiving, the drive that Erikson called “generativity,” that leads people to make sacrifices for others, and trees to manufacture food out of sunlight to nourish themselves and the seeds for future trees.

And then the liturgical year winds around, ending about four weeks before Christmas, with the Scripture readings for the last few weeks focused more and more on the last things – our own death, the final judgment, the need to take account of how we are living and make changes in accord with the highest good.  How appropriate that this unveiling of the reality beneath happens in such a pervasive way – that we are offered the chance see ourselves, our year, our years in total, through the same golden lens.

Happy mid-autumn; wishing you all the golden light the season offers.

My Grief Support Group

On October 1, the next offering of GriefShare will begin at St. Matthew Catholic Church. This marks my 15th round of GriefShare at St. Matthew’s, on top of a long history of grief support volunteerism prior to starting at St. Matthew in 2018. GriefShare at St. Matthew’s is free, although we do ask for a donation to cover the cost of the workbook provided to each participant.

GriefShare is a 13-week program, but with the breaks for Thanksgiving and Christmas, this offering will wrap up in late January, which I find useful – we surround the difficult weeks of the holidays but are well into the program, and, we hope, some extra support and encouragement for grief during especially challenging periods.

The last session began in February and ran through May – a difficult one for me, as my father passed in January 2025, the day before the October 2024-January 2025 GriefShare program ended. I was more than a little raw and definitely not my best self for the participants this past spring. I apologized along the way but it doesn’t make up for the fact that I was not on my A-game for people who needed me. I hope to do better this time around.

Generally, the guidance for grief support groups is to wait three months. For some people, it takes longer. Some people jump in sooner simply because waiting until another group starts seems too long. Every person is unique and so is their grief, the person they are grieving, and their history of losses, and these factors impact how we each grieve. Some people come to grief counseling years after the loss, when the demands of the aftermath of loss have slowed down. There is no timeline on grief.

GriefShare programs have a standard format: some check-in and chat time; a 30-minute video that addresses a particular aspect of the grief experience; and discussion time on that topic. The aforementioned workbook is for personal use between sessions, with daily readings and activities focused on each week’s topic. Speaking in the group is entirely optional – no one should feel pressured to speak. If you come and are unable to speak, please do not feel badly; your presence is important and valuable even if you don’t say a word. Simply by being present to one another, we give witness and support to the fact that we do, in fact, grieve the people we love. It doesn’t go away just because the world seems to have moved on.

GriefShare is a Christian program – there are references to scripture throughout – but all are welcome. For our Jewish brothers and sisters, most of the Scripture is drawn from Hebrew Scriptures. Not surprising, Job and the Psalms are probably most referenced!

To find a GriefShare group near you, go to www.griefshare.org and search by your zip code.

Please share this information with anyone you know who might need it. Even better – offer to go a time or two with a grieving friend who needs the support and encouragement to take that first, scary step to go to a group. It will be a couple of hours of pure, loving gift to someone who needs it.

Loneliness can kill you…Part 1

According to new research from the journal Nature, Human Behavior published on January 3, 2025, loneliness and social isolation lead to molecular changes that, in my simple terms, seem to set the body up for serious problems – increased risk for dementia, depression, cardiovascular disease, diabetes, stroke, and early death.  The researchers’ recommendations include routinely asking about loneliness and isolation, the way a health professional asks about sleep habits, alcohol use, and drug use.

If you are lonely on an ongoing basis, this is for you.

Loneliness can strike through no fault of one’s own.

Losing your spouse, for example, or a best friend, will almost inevitably lead to a long stretch of deep loneliness during the initial year or so of grief, and can continue beyond, as the bereaved person struggles to outsource some of that emotional, intellectual and spiritual intimacy to other relationships. In a healthy marriage, you share all sorts of confidences with a spouse that you simply might not share with anyone else – fears, dreams for the future, spiritual insights and struggles, and the warmth of shared memories that are no one else’s but the two of yours.  Somehow, some of that must be extended to others, and depth built over time. It an absolutely monumental task to parcel out these small slices of the immeasurable depth of a healthy marriage.

Moving, alone, to a new city, for a new job, can be exciting, but the reality can include aching loneliness when everyone at the new job goes home to their lives and you go to your apartment and try to figure out how to build a life. Developing the big, and small, connections that make a place feel like home can be daunting, and for most people, it takes longer than they had ever anticipated.

Loneliness hits other people, too. Those who are living primarily second-hand, separated by screens and trying to substitute electronic connections for human ones, are often intensely lonely. Some people interact with others in person, but the conversations are shallow, guarded and therefore nearly empty of connection and meaning. This type of loneliness can be even more painful, because it seems inexplicable; how can a person live with family or a partner and yet feel deeply lonely?

So, what to do? Unfortunately, the impetus is mostly on the lonely people to do something differently.

Here are some suggestions I would give to a client in such a situation.

  1. Go to church or synagogue. If you are grieving, try to go back to your own – but if that’s painful, go somewhere else, at least for now. If you are new to the area, just find a place that seems like a possibility. Then go to the hospitality time afterwards. Introduce yourself, and invite people to tell you about the faith community. Do not stand around with your cup of coffee and wait for people to notice you. Set a goal: perhaps that you will introduce yourself to three people, get their names, and ask a little about this community. See what happens. Try to focus on the other person; make the conversation a chance to get to know them and about their community – not about you. If it goes fairly well, go back the next week, greet those three people (and anyone else you met) by name if you can, re-introduce yourself without taking them forgetting your name personally, and see if you can meet a couple of other people. Within a month, you will have some acquaintance with a dozen or more people and have a solid idea if this community offers activities for education, worship and service for you to join.
  2. Even if you usually like to do things solo join at least one activity – one exercise class, one art class, one talk at the local bookstore, etc. – on a regular basis. Get to be a regular. Greet other people.
  3. Volunteer in your community. Do this with others. Doing good solo is beautiful, but if you’re not getting out of your head and focused on others in an interactive way, you are missing part of the point.
  4. Be friendly but don’t try to bully people into being your friends. For example, if you are new to the area, don’t wear out your welcome with the neighbors who came over to introduce themselves on moving day.
  5. Please do not use alcohol or other substances, or resort to hanging out having drinks as a way to cut loneliness.
  6. Be patient and keep trying! Think of these steps as experiments. Track what happens over time; be willing to change to a different experiment if the first one isn’t working after a month or so.

As you can see, the remedies for loneliness all include getting out of your head and into the world. Focusing on others, in small ways (such as greeting them and showing interest) to big ones (such as volunteering), is a critical part of overcoming loneliness. This can be really hard, because loneliness tends to make people even more withdrawn, more insular – it is a self-perpetuating problem unless you boldly step out, even with small but courageous steps, into focus on others.

More about connecting with others in Loneliness can Kill You, Part 2, coming soon.

7 Things to do When Life Is Crazy

Sometimes, life just goes horribly sidewise.  This week, like most weeks, I spent time with people who have lost their homes to natural disasters, lost their job, had loved ones die, and sometimes are grappling with multiple serious problems.  The world seems crazy, you can feel like you’re going mad, and it is oh-so-easy to slide into attempts to numb the pain that are ultimately harmful.

It’s easy to advise people on what NOT to do – don’t drink alcohol. Don’t use drugs. Don’t eat a lot of junk food. Don’t let yourself scroll through social media and/or your newsfeed for extended periods of times. It’s easier, though, to “do” than to “not do.”  Anyone who has tried to break a bad habit knows that; it’s easier to “eat an apple” than to “not smoke/drink/eat a bag of cheesy poofs the size of a pillow.”

So, here are seven things to do – and keep doing – when life is crazy

  1. Say grace. Say grace when you get to sit at a table and say grace – together – when you eating a granola bar in the shade after another few hours of trying to make sense of the debris that used to be your home.  Say grace when you are out on a hike, just about out of water, and have miles to go. G.K. Chesterton famously noted he said grace when he sat down to write, to draw, etc.  A moment of gratitude shifts the focus from the mud to the mountaintop.
  2. Put the social media/news scrolling down and, instead, watch something that will make you laugh, preferably either an episode of a sitcom or a funny movie. Why? These require sustained attention, will bring a focus on characters who have ups and downs, and have the potential to make you laugh. Laughter releases dopamine – that feel-good chemistry that helps you heal.  Make it better and share that humor break with someone else. Sharing laughter with the person you love helps that sense of connection that seems strained, or even lost, when life has gone crazy.
  3. Eat food that is good for you. Ongoing extreme stress causes havoc in your body, including your brain, and getting decent nutrition is essential to your well-being, now and later.  I did the price comparison:  a precooked chicken, a bag of salad, some fruit and a little something else healthy, for example, feeds two or four people far cheaper than most or all fast food. Your brain will thank you.
  4. Listen to music that is soothing: piano or guitar, instrumental jazz, classical, baroque:  as tempting as it may be to listen to “angry” music because you feel so angry about what’s become of your life, that will only reinforce your distress.  Let peace soak into you, however slowly it may come.
  5. Check in with other people every day. Reach out to someone to see how s/he is doing. It helps us get out of our own heads, our experiences, and feel less alone.
  6. Get outside, preferably in the morning, for natural light exposure. You don’t need to bake in the sun; just get out there. Take a walk if you can.  Early natural light helps the brain regulate the sleep/wake cycle, setting you up for a healthy rhythm of melatonin production over the course of the day.
  7. Ask God to show you where He is at work in the events of your life, because when life goes crazy, the fog can make God’s loving presence hard to detect. Ask for the grace to notice the helping hands, the kind words, the moments of clarity.

I’m sorry if life has gone crazy. It is scary, and lonely, and disorienting when disaster strikes. If you find that you are sinking, reach out for help:  call your local helpline (in Pinellas County, FL the number is 1-888-431-1998, for the new Care About Me program that helps match those in crisis with an appropriate mental health provider).  Call a friend, a family member, or, if you are feeling unsafe and considering suicide or plan to harm yourself or others, go seek immediate help via 911 or go to an emergency service location.  When life has gone crazy, it is natural to feel frightened, confused and even helpless, but remember that none of us were designed to “handle it all.” We are, in fact, designed so that our strengths are distributed so that each has something to offer but none has every gift and ability.  Please reach out for help if you feel you are sinking.

The Best Years

When I was in high school, many adults told me I ought to really enjoy those years because they were “the best years of [my] life.”

Well, for me, high school itself was not, overall, such a great time, and having a bunch of grownups assert that it would turn out to be so was not encouraging at all. From where I am now, I feel sorry for a lot of those adults, because if that was their experience, they must have had pretty miserable adult lives.

Very often, we’ve adopted the idea that some certain time comprises the “best years of life.”  Consider the people who postpone marriage and family because they believe that their 20’s are “the best years of life” and they want to be “free” to travel/build a career/be self-indulgent/whatever.  Some of them will regret later that they did not make different choices (ask any therapist, priest, minister or rabbi).

On the other hand, some of us have our lives unfold in a different order: responsibility precedes higher education, and career-building comes largely after active-duty parenting. What, in the long haul, did I “miss out” on? Not a thing, and this was clear all along the way because I refused to take the bait on some certain time being “the best years” as if it were a prize category.

How about framing things up this way: each period of life is the “best” for what it is meant to be. As it says in Ecclesiastes, 3:11, “He has made everything beautiful in His time.”  And in its time, too.  There are some things that our 20s tend to be best for; and for some things, our 40s, 50s, 60s.  Yes, biologically, the 20s are peak time for having babies, and yes, forms of learning that require sheer memorization are best pursued prior to the 40s.  High-level analysis and wisdom, on the other hand, peak later than memorization and keep rolling, usually long after we start fumbling for the reading glasses we put down someplace and then find on our head.

There are different challenges, joys, and heartaches all along the way. Fortunately, our priorities change, or ought to. For God’s sake, who wants to be over 50 and as terrified of other people’s opinions as the typical 15-year-old? 

Are you tempted to feel discouraged? Does it feel as if all doors are shut because some events, some struggles, or perhaps your own regrettable choices, have meant you have lost a chance at the “best years”? Please reconsider. Make a different set of choices or just one different choice today. Then, perhaps, unexpectedly “best” years start today. You probably won’t be able to tell right away. Usually, we only see this when there’s enough distance to look back at today, tomorrow and the next day.

Why am I still here?

“Why am I still here?”

I hear that a lot. Perhaps you do, too.  The veteran who survived a firefight that took his friends; the person who woke up in the hospital to find they were the only survivor of a car crash that took their family; a survivor of a natural disaster that took many lives.  Many adults, perhaps most, have had such an existential episode. I’ve been in car accidents that could have killed me; survived acts of violence that could just as easily have tipped over into lethality, lived through serious illness. None of those are particularly unusual, and only mentioned to underscore the point.

“What do I live for now? What ought I be doing?”

That’s a tough one, yet it is the question every believer is tasked with as the subtext of life every day.  There is some chatter among the media that presuming that one’s survival is in God’s hands is some sort of unusual perspective. It is not my intention to speculate on any particular person’s interpretation of what that means. For those who find it perplexing, I hope to offer at least this Christian’s perspective. God never wants evil; it takes our free will for that to happen. Many of us wrestle with trying to figure out why God allows bad things to happen. Allowing something is not the same as wanting something, that’s for sure; every parent has to learn that lesson, fairly early on.

You may want your toddler to go to sleep. You may want that very, very, very eyes-burning-with-exhaustion much. But you have to allow the reality that the toddler will keep on singing songs, or whining, or coming out to complain. (If you do anything to “make” a child sleep, whatever adult is aware of it is required to report that to child protective services). C.S. Lewis does a much better job of explaining this particular point.  God, of course, chooses to allow or not. I’m not going to understand why because I am not God. God creates everything and I can do not a thing, even catch a breath, unless God wills it.

Our job is to figure out what God wants from us in each emerging situation, whether the situation itself was His will or not. For believers, every breath is a gift; there is no guarantee of another. Pondering what we are to do with these circumstances and assuming God has a preference in terms of our choice of action is not a big stretch.

So, for a Christian, God did not want Corey Comperatore to die in gunfire, protecting his family. It was not God’s will for the gunman to shoot. Mr. Comperatore clearly discerned his purpose was to protect at all costs. He had, apparently, discerned this over and over until his reflex towards self-sacrifice looked “automatic.” That seems to be a sign that his formation into the nature of Jesus Christ, the nature of complete self-giving, was something he had truly embraced.

And now, everyone left behind must discern what God asks of them in this new, tragic circumstance. Over the course of years and months, his family will each have to discern how to restructure life and find a different path forward. Friends and neighbors will need to discern, ongoing, how to provide friendship and support when the months pass and the spotlight of media attention fades.

The question doesn’t necessitate a tragedy, such as an accident, tornado or an attempted assassination. It is a perennial question: every person mourning infertility, every widow, widower, and bereaved parent.  Adolescents are supposed to wrestle with it; the elderly are, too. And all along the way, it is the question every thinking person ponders when transitioning to a new stage of life. We ask it at those times, too, that are both joyful and sad; a child grows up and successfully leaves the nest: mission accomplished; but what is my purpose now? Retirement comes; well, then what? What is your purpose now, beyond a vague sense of perpetual recess?

Being Christian means striving to be conformed to the nature of Jesus Christ. That means seeking not just to avoid being “bad” but attempting to do God’s will in every situation.  Is it “bad” to spend an entire lazy weekend afternoon with a pot of tea, a good book and a handful of chocolate? Especially on the Sabbath? No, lemon ginger tea and Lady Gregory’s book of Irish folklore, edited by W.B. Yeats, don’t make the list of “do-nots,” but the entire afternoon? When a friend needs a caring ear or a letter? When a nagging thought keeps intruding with that starts with, “I really need to reach out to…” maybe the “not a bad thing” needs to step aside and yield to the “better thing,” a “because” for the moment.

And, when you’re wrestling with the big questions of life, the little “becauses” become a path through the dark places.

Detour Ahead. There. And there.

Look carefully. Yep, that’s a detour sign, pointing to the right at the T-intersection. And yes, across the street is another detour sign, pointing left. There are, as it happens, only two ways to choose here – right or left. Both appear to be detours. To where? From where?

A quarter-mile away, the road crews who neglected to pack up these signs (months have passed) also left behind a Detour sign with an arrow pointed up, as in, go straight ahead. That particular sign has been moved back and forth, one day pointed north, then south, and, most recently, either whimsically or horribly, as if the detour was to crash through someone’s side fence into their backyard.

Pity the unsuspecting rideshare driver who has to figure all this out. Eventually, there will be road work in our area again and we’ll all stupidly ignore the first detour signs, because we’ve learned to regard orange signs with arrows as signifying nothing.

There you go: life with crazy detours and places where there seems to be no right answer. At least, there seems to be no easy answer. It can be hard to know if a detour indicates something to be avoided or a relic or even a ruse.

Anyone new to the neighborhood would be stymied by the mixed messages, while the people who know the origin of the dueling detours shrug and ignore them – or, in some cases, get annoyed and move signs across the street.  There’s a clue: when a detour arises, ask questions; see how other people are responding to the apparent detour, and why.  On occasion, I see, in stores, the relics of the social distancing recommendations of 2020, those half-peeled away stickers on terrazzo floors. Like the road-sign-weary denizens of my area, shoppers ignore signs that used to be treated as if they’d come down from Mount Sinai.

There are detours that make sense, like when there’s a big hole in the road. No doubt you’ve gotten your share of detour signs from life. I’ve had mine. Some have kept me from disaster, and some turned out to be less about danger and more about someone else’s fears or agendas.  I’ve heard about many – and about so many people who figured out which detours were legitimate, and which were either relics or ruses.

Wishing you good adventures, and the wisdom to know relics from ruses, as well as to never be the person who puts up fake detour signs for others.

To Ink or Not to Ink

To ink or not to ink: that is the question.

Not my question, but a lot of people debate this. Perhaps they are considering the latest news: the research showing a significant increase in the risk of blood cancers with just one tattoo. That seems worth attention.

Sometimes, people planning a tattoo want to talk about it, the image and the expected arguments from friends or family. We might discuss the option of wearing a piece of jewelry with the same design for a year straight – no exceptions – or the benefit of a trial run with temporary tattoos for a few months.  Perhaps pulling out a particularly unflattering photo, with a hairstyle and clothing you thought looked great at the time, and facing it every day for a year or so would provide a tap to the brakes. Most often in these conversations, I simply listen, ask a lot of questions, and offer my personal explanation as to “why not.” There are three significant reasons.

On my phone, I have a photo of memorial bricks that rest in Europe, with the names and deportation dates of family members who died in Auschwitz in 1944.  They would have been tattooed by the Nazis, each with a unique number, for the obsessive record-keeping for which the Third Reich was known. Out of respect to their memories, no ink.

I can’t think of any sort of decoration I wouldn’t tire of, sooner, probably, rather than later. A look at my hair and fashion choices in old photos makes that spectacularly clear. Due to the likelihood that I will someday find my décor of the day regrettable, no ink.

Finally, the two most significant factors in my life, my faith and my marriage, are too important to me for tattoos. Both deserve a deliberate, mindful choice – every day, every moment. The crucifix I wear is by choice, never mindlessly or without reverence for its meaning and the demand placed upon me, however poorly I may live out that demand. The wedding ring is deliberate, a clear statement of, I love you, I choose you, each day. Never indifferent, never nonchalant: to wear these things is a daily action verb.

Now, those reasons may make no sense to you. Maybe they seem silly or irrelevant to your situation. Perhaps they do; but perhaps they are worth a conversation with someone as you, or they, make decisions about permanent records of this particular spot in place and time.  

What’s in your backpack?

I was speaking with someone reluctant to make any sort of commitment to a small change in the routine. Things were not going well for my friend, and the future seemed murky. With no clear picture of “where the journey is heading,” taking any first step seemed imprudent, my partner in conversation asserted; it would be better to wait until the “where” is sorted out in life before making a concerted effort in any direction.

One reasonable response to that is, there is no “standing still” in life: attempting to stand still just means things around you will change while you pretend you can hold your position.  See how that works for you standing in the ocean. Maybe that seems trite; the whole “you never step into the same river twice” trope that is, as it happens, absolutely true.

Another way of looking at my friend’s dilemma is this: no matter where my journey is going, some items always go in the backpack. I may not always need the water purification straws, or the sleeping bag rated for freezing weather, but I always need underwear and socks. I always need a spare pair of contact lenses and sunscreen. I always need a small Bible. I always need chocolate and my thyroid medicine. Even without knowing where, or when, I’m going, some things can go into the backpack.

No matter where your life journey is taking you, wouldn’t it be helpful to have a better quality of sleep? More physical energy?  A firmer sense of what your values are, and why, and what the implications are for daily life? A little less messiness in the closet or refrigerator or your car? Less weird clutter and mysterious crumpled papers in that one drawer? Some better thinking habits, whether it’s taking on a phobia or developing your capacity for focused attention?

Even if you’re feeling really stuck – a lot of pressures, an unhappy job situation, the first year or so into significant grief – perhaps there is one small thing you can do first– something you can “put into the backpack” – without a clear picture of where you hope to be heading. And, as you’re putting those essentials into your pack, perhaps the mystery of the next few steps on the journey will begin to come into focus.

Happy trails –

Life-Changing Hacks

Confession: I really dislike the term “hack.” It sounds awful, like a data breach somewhere, drenching the dark web with the personal info of thousands of people. It also used to mean someone whose work was poorly done and usually rushed, or the work itself. Somehow it became slang for “something you can do to make things easier/simpler/better.”

So be it, then.  In the spirit of openness (in which I score extremely high in personality tests), here are seven “hacks” for a happier life:

  1. Spend at least 15 minutes a day sitting in silence. For me, it is prayer time. This is a powerful early-day practice. If you are religious, this is a good time to sit with Scripture, a devotional book if you use one, and a small notebook in which to write a brief response as part of your prayer. For some people of faith, opening with a short Scripture reading and sitting silently in a contemplative mode of prayer is better.

If you are not religious, use it as quiet meditation time, focusing on breathing in a way that feeds relaxation and focus.

Why it works:  The research on the benefits of such a meditative practice is robust: brain health, heart health, reduced depression and anxiety symptoms. For people of faith, it becomes an opportunity to listen and reflect on God’s presence in their lives and how they are called to live. Taking a few moments to formulate your thoughts and write to God can help anchor you into the experience. The act of writing – words of gratitude, questions, fears – helps with focus and invites you to be in dialogue.

  • Go on a news fast.  If something horrible that actually requires your attention happens or is imminent, like a hurricane or other disaster, you’ll find out about it. Otherwise, just skip the news for a week, or two, or more. Then titrate your dosage:  15 minutes a day, checking into two or three varied sources.

Why it works:  repeated exposure to what are often the same events, or people discussing those events, has the neurological effect of repeated distressing experiences and amplifies your stress level. By quickly reading, rather than watching and listening, you will be better able to glean information without being overly stimulated emotionally.

  • Once a week, avoid all electronics except:
    • Live interaction with loved ones at a distance
    • Shared experiences with family or friends such as watching a movie together, which you can then discuss over a meal.

Why it works:  you will necessarily be spending more time in the real world, either resting, being creative, or otherwise having your life rather than passively observing others’ lives.

  • Go outdoors every day, preferably in the morning.

Why it works:  Morning daylight helps with brain chemistry; it contributes to a better mood and improved sleep by getting your melatonin system set properly.  It is also a good time of day to get your beneficial Vitamin D exposure (check with your physician) and to take in the benefits of exposure to nature: the sky, the sights, sounds and smells of plants, the sight and sounds of animals.

  • Clean up your diet.  Experiment with giving up highly processed junk foods. If you are a “one toe in the water” type, pick one change at a time and stick with it. Add a small change a week. If you are a “cannonball into the pool” type, go all in: get rid of the chips, the fast foods, the super-sweetened snacks.  See how you feel after a couple of weeks, after the worst of the withdrawal has passed and your tastebuds start to recover.

Why it works:  junk food is addictive, hijacking your dopamine system; it leads to erratic moods both because of the direct up and down of dopamine and the very complex relationship between the gut and the brain. The research here is abundant and easy to find; simply put, you’ll feel better. Your energy level should be more stable, helping you feel more energetic and, without that brain/body overstimulation from processed snacks in the evening, you may even sleep better, which leads to number 6:

  • Be religious about sleep.  If you are a 7-hour-a-night person, get those 7 hours; if you are a 9-hour person, get the 9.  Since you will be consuming less electronic media you should be able to squeeze out the time.

Why it works:  Sleep is essential. It is when your brain, and the rest of your body, does a lot of its clean-up and repair work. Your brain uses sleep to sort out information, store memories, and do important work such as using your new, improved, healthier diet to rebuild your stress-and-junk-damaged hippocampi, amygdala, etc.  Try to go to bed and get up at around the same time every day. If you are skeptical, then be scientific about it: do this as a four-week experiment and then assess the outcome.

  • Be committed to a daily exercise routine appropriate to your health requirements.  Your physician can give you info on recommended guidelines and any limitations or considerations you need to bear in mind.  There is no one routine for everyone, but unless you are on doctor’s orders to remain resting and sedentary, there is something you could do in this area. You may have to start slow; you may have to scale back because you are burning out; you may need to add variety so you are addressing cardiovascular health, strength, flexibility and balance.

Why it works:  Well, look at the data!  We are engineered to move, not to sit for hours.  Regular exercise is good for physical and mental health, can help with social well-being for those who exercise with or around others, afford time in nature, and help with sleep and digestion. 

So, there you go.  Seven simple hacks for a happier life.  Most of them cost nothing; even healthier eating could start with a money-saving switch of water in lieu of sugar- or artificially-sweetened prepared beverages. So – all simple, all potentially free. Since it doesn’t cost anything – what’s the harm in giving it a one-month trial run?  If one month of free, simple changes could mean more well-being in multiple areas of life, that seems like a great bargain – cheaper than coming to therapy and paying me, or someone else, to tell you the same thing.