The Restorative Power of Hugs (with bonus visualization)

The Benefits of Hugging

Hugs have the power to restore us emotionally. They calm the nervous system. Think about the last time you gave or received a really good hug. How did your body feel? You probably got a nice boost of ocytocin and some of the natural opioids your brain makes.

A hug can also release feelings you've been holding inside. If you've been putting on a brave face for your kids or your colleagues, but inside you're feeling depressed, lonely, or worried, you are so not alone. Alongside the pandemic of COVID-19, is another, silent pandemic - grief and post-traumatic stress.

You may not be acknowledging your grief - especially if it seems insignificant compared to those who have lost loved ones. But there is cumulative grief - grief from a million tiny losses that adds up over time. And it may be that a good hug would allow you the relief of a much-needed cry.

Along with the emotional benefits of hugging, there are physical benefits too. Research reveals that hugging decreases stress and boosts the immune system.

Can a Self-Hug Work?

So what do you do if you're quarantined alone or you live with people who you don't hug for one reason or another?

Fortunately, you brain comes equipped with everything you need to enjoy a hug, even when you're on your own. They key is activating your imagination through your senses. This is akin to visualizing - but the sense you're working with is not sight. It's touch.

If you allow yourself to really engage in a true hug, with all the warmth and care you would give a beloved friend, you can get all the benefits of a hug from someone else. The key is really feeling the feels. To that end, I created a guided visualization and a how-to guide (which includes information on dealing with a skeptical inner critic). You can access the guide for free here.

https://julielevin.podia.com/a-warm-hug

I hope you develop a self-hugging practice that leaves you feeling calmer, more relaxed, and healthier.

Mother's Day - When Your Mom was NOT the Greatest

Every year I post a little something on FB for the people who were not mothered very well. It can be irritating or even painful to see all the memes and posts about wonderful mothers. The ones I really hate are the admonishing ones, disguised in fake sweetness. They usually start with "Your mother..." as if they know her. They don't.

My mother was deeply preoccupied with looking good. Usually this manifested in manic dieting and house cleaning. Everything had to be perfect on the surface. We didn't discuss what was below the surface, not my dad's drinking or my sister's drug use. When I needed to talk through my feelings, my mother responded, "You think too much." Because that's helpful.

She wasn't a bad person, just insecure. Deeply insecure. This made her controlling. She used money and gifts as bargaining chips, to ensure her children needed her, because she didn't trust that we would love her (and boy, didn't that become a self-fulfilling prophesy).

She was too lost in her own thoughts to pay much attention to things like homework, grades, or nurturing my skills and interests. I got her attention when I made her nervous, usually by eating something that might make me gain weight. We spent hours talking about diets and exercise and food in general. It was her favorite topic. I could not do basic math as a kid. No one helped me memorize the times tables. But I knew how many calories were in a serving of low-fat cottage cheese.

It's never black and white though. The worst parents can be tender at times. My mother had shining moments. There was the night I came home crying because my boyfriend was going away to college. She was up late, probably having a hot flash. We sat on the couch and she let me cry on her shoulder. She was glad I could love someone so deeply.

There was the time in my twenties she brought be soup when I had a terrible cold. We had been in a huge fight and stopped talking. Just when I was at my most miserable, she knocked on my apartment door, a warm pot in her hands.

She didn't want to be a bad mother. She didn't hate her kids. She was just a kid herself, in a grown woman's body. She wanted to feel like she mattered, like she was good enough, like she was special and important - all the things her own mother failed to instill in her.

While we all have those same needs to some degree, my mother's history and makeup led to narcissism - the grandiose defense against shame. She could never admit when she hurt me - or anyone. She could never apologize with true regret and sincerity. She could never examine her feelings, thoughts or behaviors honestly. Without that capacity to look at herself with compassion instead of self-judgment, there was no possibility of change.

I haven't spoken to her in five years. At first it was anger that stopped me. She changed her will in an obvious move to punish me because I was learning to set boundaries with her. She didn't like that.

In that first year without her, I realized that I had allowed myself to depend on the promise of an inheritance because I'd bought into her story, that I would never be able to live comfortably without her help. It turned out to be a great gift - to make the changes I needed to make in my own earning and spending, while I was still young enough to save for the future.

It took about two years to work through the previous fifty years of hurt and anger, to understand the profound neglect I felt was real - even though I always had shoes and food and school. The neglect was emotional, because she was so rarely present.

Over the next three years, the pain has subsided. I've finally learned what I imagine healthy, secure people learn in their twenties - that I am capable of taking care of my own needs - financial, emotional, and physical. At first, I didn't want to have to be the one to do this. I wanted it to be my husband. But the universe has a way of putting just what we need in front of us. And he lost his job.

Most of my clients have this same experience. I shouldn't have to give myself the love I need. Someone else should. We don't want to take responsibility for ourselves. We don't want to grow up. I think secretly (secret even from ourselves) it's because we were never shown that we could stand on our own feet.

This is the legacy of insecure parents. They either need to be needed and can't instill independence in their kids. Or they can't be needed, leaving their kids starving for care. So often, it's a confusing combination of both.

We grow up on the outside - maybe even looking like we have things figured out. But inside, we feel like kids, unsure we can really manage life's challenges.

But we can. Five years into this separation from my mother, and I actually feel warmth and appreciation for her - along with sadness. I don't know what made her so defensive and unable to change or grow. I don't know what left her so anxious and unable to seek help.

I don't feel like reaching out. Not even in the wake of COVID-19. I know what it felt like when we used to talk. It was rarely good. I know that hasn't changed. I have felt better and stronger in these last three years than ever before in my life.

I still find Mother's Day memes annoying. I will not be on Social Media from Sunday to Thursday or Friday, when those posts have fallen off my feed.

But I just wanted to share, because I know so many of you are angsting about your mothers right now. There is no one right way to manage when your mother was/is difficult. You might do what I did for years, and spend a lot of time in the greeting card aisle, trying to find something nice that isn't an outright lie. You might call her and set a timer on the oven, so that you can say, "Oh mom, the oven timer just went off, I have to get that,
" even thought there's nothing cooking.

Whatever you choose to do this Mother's Day, I hope you consider your own needs, and not just hers. Protect yourself as best you can. And then do something amazing for the Mom inside of you - the one who has been taking care of you all along. Buy yourself flowers. Get yourself some delicious take-out. Take a walk in the cool of the morning and listen to the birds. Have breakfast in bed.

You have been doing a great job of caring for yourself, probably since you were little. Give yourself love and gratitude for all that.

Living with the Frenemy: Two Weeks into Quarantine for COVID-19

Some experts predict a mini baby-boom in nine months. If you are one of the fortunate who is enjoying lots of delicious couple time while sequestered, bless you.

But even the most connected may begin to feel strain - especially since we just found out yesterday the quarantine in the Bay Area has been extended from 2 weeks to 6. Oy vey.

For a lot of people - especially the introverts who now have people inside their houses 24-7 - all the togetherness is a bit much. As one of my clients put it,

"It's not that they're doing anything wrong; it's that they're breathing."

Other irritations I'm hearing:

• I'm working from home, and people keep coming into my space to see if I want anything. What I want is for them to stay the f@ck out of my room!
• My kids are bouncing off the walls. Literally. I was working, and I hear this loud crash. My youngest thought he could use the back of the couch like a tightrope. Of course, the couch fell over. Luckily no one was hurt. I was so furious though. I told them, I will not take either of you to the ER until the virus is under control. If you break a bone, it's just going to heal crooked (of course, I would take them to the doctor if anything happened). Now I feel terrible. Am I a bad mother?
• I have taken my dog for so many walks, she hides now when I get the leash. I just need a break from everyone. As soon as this ends, I'm taking a vacation by myself!

It's so hard to be human. We like to think we're tough and can handle anything. But the truth is, we are exquisitely sensitive creatures. We like our routines. For all the talk of needing relationships to be happy, what we really need is the right balance of connection and alone time. And each of us falls on a spectrum, so what feels balanced for me, might be torture for you.

If you are one of those who is getting a little fed up with hearing other people breathe, know you're not alone. If you're a parent and you want to get away from your kids, you're not a terrible mom or dad.

Alone time is essential to our sense of well-being - especially for adults. It's when we process the events of the day and make sense of our lives. It's when we check-in with ourselves, noting our emotional temperature and stress level, so we can practice self-care. Alone time is when we can finally hear ourselves think, so we can plan, dream, and find the flow of our creativity.

So it's important to set kind boundaries with the people who love us, who want our attention, who are very loud breathers.

Some tips to remember:

1. Don't shame or blame, after all, they need to breathe.
2. Do explain that "I am the kind of person that..." Fill in the blank with your need, for example, "I'm the kind of person that needs a good hour of quiet time first thing in the morning and again around 4pm to hear myself think."
3. Do ask for help instead of demanding or complaining. "Would you guys help me?"
4. Do ask them for their ideas, "Can you help me come up with some ways I can get that alone time while we're all in the same house?"
5. Do thank them for helping, for remembering, for reminding you. Let them see that their help is making a difference. 

Remember that boundaries can feel like rejection to others, so using the steps above, the goal is to protect the connection and love while getting some much needed space.

Hopefully this will help my fellow introverts get some breathing room!

May you and the ones you love stay safe and healthy through this bizarre moment in history!

Gossip, Snark and other Relationship Poisons

In my family, we talked about other people all the time. My mom complained about my dad to each of us kids. My dad did the same about my mom. We kids complained to our parents about the other parent or a sibling. We complained to our siblings about our parents. An unspoken but deeply held family rule: don’t be direct.

When one or more people in a family are insecure, avoidance (especially conflict avoidance) is bound to show up. I brought this behavior pattern into my professional, social, and romantic relationships because, for me, it was normal. I complained to my friends about my love interests. I complained about one friend to another.

I didn’t think of my behavior as gossip. I didn't think about how I was “poisoning the well,” manipulating other people's opinions, and contaminating feelings between other people. Like a fish who doesn't know she is wet, I didn’t know my family pattern was contaminated. It seemed normal that one ever really trusted each other, and each of us knew that we were being judged when we weren’t there.

I also never learned to be direct, to express my true feelings, or to set effective boundaries. The really big loss, though, is that I never learned how to reestablish love and trust when I hurt someone’s feelings. I didn’t learn that relationships become stronger, intimacy deepens and trust grows when people can openly talk about hurt feelings, jealousy, bad moods and all the other normal reactions we have as humans.

I had no idea how healing and connecting a heartfelt apology could be when given sincerely and accepted with love. In psychobabble, we call this "repair," and when done well, it is the superglue of relationships.

It took a lot of therapy, some great friends, and a very patient husband to teach me how to be direct and kind, to say, “this isn’t working for me,” without shaming or blaming others. It took the blessing of a dear friend letting me know I had hurt her feelings and giving me the chance to tell her how much sorrow (the root of the words, “I’m sorry”) I felt, learning I had hurt her, to experience the sweetness and relief of her forgiveness. To this day, she is one of my most cherished friends.

There is another gift in being direct. It’s more subtle, but equally powerful. It’s the gift of realizing that when we talk about others, labeling, criticizing, or analyzing, we are really projecting (talking about ourselves without realizing it). When my mother complained that my father never helped, she was implying he was a jerk. But what she never said was that she had always felt alone and unappreciated, not just by him, but in every relationship she ever had.

I know this feeling because I learned to behave like my mom in my own relationships. I did everything around the house, hoping my husband would notice and understand the secret code: do for me as I am doing for you. He wasn’t raised with the code and didn’t know it. With the help of my therapist, I learned to ask for help directly, without any of the irritation or frustration that was my own projection:

If I have to ask, it means you don’t really care. This confirms my belief that I am not lovable. Now I feel shame, and I am mad at you for "making" me feel shitty.

Of course, the craziest thing happened. When I asked, “Can you vacuum today or tomorrow?” he cheerfully said, “Sure.” That was it. There was no drama. It was my fuming, my irritation, my assumption he was a jerk, and my unconscious belief that I was unlovable that led to our previous fights about chores.

He didn’t mind helping. He minded being treated like he was a jerk.

The deeper lesson for me was that my being lovable was separate from him being helpful. This is key for those of us who were loved conditionally. Growing up, I was loved when I pleased my parents. Anticipating their wishes and fulfilling them without them having to ask was a survival tool. If I hadn’t mastered that, I would have been shamed and blamed.

If you were raised in a family with insecure attachment patterns, it might be difficult to be direct. You may find yourself shaming and blaming others when they disappoint you (maybe just in your head). This is a rich opportunity to look for the underlying belief you might be holding about yourself. It might be a chance to practice being honest and kind, asking for what you need or want without snark. It might be an opportunity to express hurt or disappointment and see if the other person can offer you a genuine apology.

Of course, this is difficult, even scary when being direct was against an unspoken family rule. It may be easier to take this risk with support, or to try in smaller, easier ways with people you suspect are more secure and more able to manage direct communication. Maybe it’s not so much what you do differently, but just a shift in awareness. If you are talking (or thinking) negatively about someone else, what’s really happening inside of you?

Worth, Deserving, and Self Love

How do we learn (earn) our worth?

Innate need to belong for security and safety + family, peers, culture, media.

People are born relatively helpless. We need adults to feed us, change us, protect us from dangers big and small. There is a biological imperative to bond that’s both emotional and chemical. 

When the bond is healthy, parents love their kids for no other reason than that they are theirs. When the bond is unhealthy, the parents project their unmet needs onto the kids. This can be a need to be special or important, as with narcissism. In this dynamic, kids may feel pressured to perform to certain standards to earn love. They may feel pressure to be attractive or athletic or whatever compensates for the parent’s insecurity. 

Parents might have other unmet needs, especially when they’ve experienced trauma or trouble in their own early bonding. Parents that don’t feel capable of adulting often “parentify” their children, relying on the child to feel soothed, cherished, or safe. The child becomes a little adult, equating their worth with their ability to support and nurture others. This is a recipe for codependence (dependency on being needed).

About half the people over the globe are estimated to have insecure bonds, regardless of any other socio-economic factor. So we are constantly interacting with people who don’t feel secure. Insecure thinking, behavior and emotion is interwoven into the fabric of peer relationships and culture, and it is delivered to us through the media in a steady stream.

In this paradigm, what gives any one person value is determined by this mix of family, peers, and culture. For example, I grew up in LA in the 1970s. My family is Jewish, but not religious. My mother is narcissistic, codependent, and eating disordered. My dad has early childhood trauma and lifelong addiction. My parents and peers were all affected by the LA lens on looks. 

I learned that to be valued, I had to be thin, sexually attractive to men, subservient, and stoic. I was supposed to marry well and have money. And I was supposed to anticipate the emotional and physical needs of others and provide for those needs. In essence, my value lay in my ability to withstand indentured servitude and unpaid prostitution without complaint - like most straight, white women of that era.

Who determines/enforces the value of a person?

Whoever holds power

First, it’s family. We learn early who is in charge of the food, the care, the comfort, and the punishment, and we adapt, mostly without awareness, because we assume our experience is normal. We don’t question until we are exposed to something different.

Later, it’s peers (sometimes teachers). We learn the pecking order at school, which kids are cool, which are losers. We do what we can to be in group 1 and avoid group 2. If we grow up in secure families, we are afforded a buffer against the insecurity of other kids. If our families are insecure, we might be more susceptible to the judgments and meanness of social stratification.

As we get older, we usually have some opportunity to confront these artificial distinctions as we are exposed to different people with different values. The more we can identify that conditional worth is always relative, the more likely we are to reject values that don’t serve us.

The more insular a family or community, the fewer these opportunities. Also, the more deeply ingrained the values (through trauma or repetition), the more difficult it is to register that these values are all relative, even when we are exposed to alternative values.

This is why therapy can be so helpful, especially therapy that is holistic and considers how culture, family, and social status impact mental health. Therapy is often the first time clients get to explore and question their basic assumptions about their value.

It’s a powerful and deeply healing experience to realize that our value is not dependent on what anyone else thinks of us.

Why are some people valued more than others?

Narcissism, sociopathy, dependency needs...

An analogy:Homer and Bart walk into an ice cream shop. Homer orders beer flavored ice cream. Bart says, “Ew! Beer ice cream is gross.” And he orders rocky road. Homer says, “Rocky road is for losers who want to break their teeth on stale almonds.” And then they choke each other till their eyes pop out. 

In this story, it is neither beer flavored ice cream nor rocky road that is gross or for losers. What is true is that some people enjoy and value ice cream that tastes like beer, while others don’t. 

The ice cream itself is neutral, and so are you. Some people will love you exactly as you are. Others will not, no matter how hard you work or how much you twist yourself into a pretzel to win their admiration or approval. 

If you try to win over a narcissist, you will have to make them feel wonderful about themselves all the time, no matter the cost to yourself. Hopefully you never find yourself romantically involved with one. You can never be enough to satisfy someone with this personality type. They live with an emptiness inside that can never be filled. And sooner or later they will let you know you are gross and a loser because your love hasn’t filled the hole. 

What they can’t and won’t accept (so don’t bother trying to enlighten them) is that the hole can’t be filled by anyone or anything but their own love. Narcissism is not an over-abundance of self love. It’s arrogance and swagger trying to compensate for shame and self hatred.

The same is true for sociopaths (both types lacking empathy for others). But with a sociopath, the end goal is not to fill a shame void with admiration. It is to abate a feeling of shameful powerlessness with power over others. A narcissist will undermine your worth for failing to make them feel good enough. A sociopath with undermine your worth to keep you under their thumb.

Unfortunately, narcissists and sociopaths tend to gravitate to positions of power in the world. They run companies and newspapers, ad agencies and boardrooms. The power dynamics in many companies are built on a foundation of vasselism. Work is structured so that employee compensation is kept at the minimum possible in order to maximize profit for shareholders. Job insecurity is the tool used to keep compensation low. Job insecurity undermines worth.

Narcissists and sociopaths also control a great deal of the information that filters through our screens regularly. Billions of dollars are made by selling insecurity.

The best way to counter these undermining factors is to look at your own dependency needs and insecurities and shore them up. Emotionally, you do this through repeated, daily acts of unconditional self love. 

Financially you do this by empowering yourself in whatever ways you can. This might mean more education, developing a side hustle, saving your pennies, working for yourself… whatever you can do to lessen your dependency on anyone who would take advantage of you. 

What power dynamics affect people we see in therapy?

Racism, sexism (gender and sexuality), bi-directional ageism, classism, ableism (mental illness stigma), looksism/sizeism.

All the systemic stratifications that are part of culture harm all of us - even those at the top of the ladder. They foster insecurity and paranoia in everyone. Case in point, the current US President.

All of these hierarchies rely on dependency and power/powerlessness to exist. This is another reason why good therapy is holistic. I have been treated as less-than based on my gender, my religious status, my weight, my height, my age when I was under 30, my age when I was over 40, and my financial status. And I consider myself part of a privileged and protected class because I’m white, educated, and middle class. My clients have shared stories of oppression based on these factors plus sexual orientation, gender identity, immigration status, skin color, accent, physical or mental health diagnosis, even hair color. 

It's important to recognize and call out systemic oppression in whatever form. In itself, this act of saying, “This is wrong,” is empowering and restores worth. It’s also important not to rent out too much head-space to fighting with people who are committed to being assholes. Sometimes the best way to honor our worth is to walk away. Strong boundaries are key to owning your power and demonstrating your value through self-respect.

What does this stratification do to people?

Subtle, chronic, trauma; depression; anxiety; low self esteem

When we are devalued, especially in childhood, when our self concept is forming, we experience that devaluation as trauma. It goes back to that innate need to belong. Ostracism feels dangerous because when we are little we can’t survive alone. Even when we are big, we survive predators and disasters better in a group. We hunt and gather better together. Feeling unwanted and devalued creates anxiety, depression, addiction and low self esteem.

Every single person I have ever seen in therapy has this exact core problem, no matter what the diagnosis.

What can we do to change how we value ourselves?

1. Stop trying to make others value us and look for those who do without condition.
2. Treat ourselves with respect and kindness all the time, without having to do or be anything to earn that care. Monitor your inner critic and listen for what it is afraid of. Then gently remind it to tell you about the fear instead of yelling at you.
3. Notice (co)dependency relationships and work on leveling power dynamics. Resentment is a good clue you are over-giving. Practice letting go of the need to please. Practice saying no without shaming, blaming or justifying. Seek out education, training and support to become financially self-sufficient over time.
4. Become aware of cultural dysfunction and create/rehearse your own counter-narratives. In the fat community, we do this by using the word fat as a neutral descriptor instead of a pejorative term. As a woman, I call out use of the words pussy, wuss, and girl meant as put downs. I actively look for role models who look like me. And I question my own learned fears and assumptions about people different from me.
5. Refuse to participate in gossip. I cannot emphasize this one enough. When you gossip, you implicitly condone it when people undermine your worth by talking shit about you behind your back. Practice saying, “I don’t gossip because I want people to know they can trust me to be kind, even when they’re not here.”

Feel is a Four Letter Word (When You're Insecure)

Insecure parents tend to get overwhelmed or irritated by feelings. They ignore them, shame them or misread them. How often have we all seen a parent tell their child, Stop crying. Nothing‘s wrong. You’re just being (a baby, cranky, difficult, etc.). This leaves kids feeling alone, overwhelmed, misunderstood, angry, and unable to tolerate distress. As you can imagine, as teens or adults, they often turn to food, drugs or distracting/numbing activities to avoid feelings. There may be one permissible emotion like anger or joy, but that feeling becomes over-used.

When clients come to therapy, one of the first things we do is name feelings. You seem worried, lonely, hurt, scared, etc. For insecure people, having feelings named accurately and kindly is a revelation. It feels like they are being seen and understood, maybe for the first time. The experience is deeply relieving, soothing, sustaining. It's a drink of water when you didn't realize you were dehydrated.

By seeing how the therapist responds, clients also learn the skill of recognizing and responding to their own feelings compassionately. This is what happens naturally in securely attached families. We insecures have to learn to fill this gap.
Secure parents notice facial expressions and body language, accurately naming feelings. You usually can't see your own face, but you can feel the muscles of your face as they move into a smile, a grimace, or a frown. You can feel your brow rise in surprise. You can feel your mouth tremble in fear or sadness.
You can also feel emotions in your body. The cliches we use to describe feelings can be a useful guide.

• When you're angry, you might notice your head or ears get hot. You might feel pressure like blowing your top. You might feel heat or energy in your arms or chest. This is adrenaline, a gift of your fight-or-flight response, gearing you up for battle.
• Shame, embarrassment and humiliation might leave you feeling like you want to shrink, to go full turtle and pull into your shell, to be swallowed up by the earth.
• Fear might leave you "yellow bellied," with a sick feeling in your gut. Or the hairs on you neck might stand up. Fear's cousin, anxiety, might make you edgy or fidgety, itching to run.
• Sadness may leave you choked up with tears that get stuck in your throat - especially if you've learned not to let them show. Sadness's bigger sister, depression might flatten you with the "why bother" blahs.

If you are on the reparenting road, seeking greater security from yourself, then your mission is to gentle yourself toward compassion, curiosity and acceptance. Naming your feelings without judgment conveys understanding and compassion. As you gain comfort with feelings, sitting with them in a friendly way feels soothing, safe and relieving (which you may notice in a deep breath or sigh).

Recognizing your feelings and accepting them with curiosity and self-compassion will also, in time, show you that you can tolerate and soothe your distress or disappointment. Taking the time to ease yourself through the distress will allow you to make better decisions about the messages your feelings are sending.

• When something doesn't feel right for you, you might set a different boundary.
• You might ask for more of what you want or need.

Allowing yourself to hear the messages your feelings are sending ultimately empowers you to take better care of yourself.

The Life Sucking Tragedy of Too Much Access

Something miraculous happened while I was on vacation. After several days of using phone GPS to get around in our rental car, streaming music, and uploading photos to our social media accounts, we got a text from our carrier saying we were nearly out of data. Did we want to buy more? Text Yes or No.



As if we shared a brain, we both knew the answer would be No. And for the rest of the trip, we chilled the f@ck out. We stopped going everywhere and doing all the things. We went to the beach and swam. We took long walks at dusk. We ate leisurely meals. We read books. It was like vacation used to be - relaxing.


For about a year now, I've been having conversations with clients about how much we have to track now, from multiple different passwords to which texts and emails need a response, to the milestones and deadlines of work projects, to the likes and follows we give (or hope to receive) online, to managing our children's activities and assignments, to tending to our friends and romantic partners, to (especially if you are over, say, 45) tending our own bodies.

Are you exhausted reading that last paragraph? I just re-read it, and I am!

There is also another fear you may not be aware of. A great many of us have a fear of down time. Because if we really do unplug and breathe, we might feel. We might feel how exhausted and overwhelmed we are. We might feel that underlying discontent about something (or someone) that feels so scary to address.

All the busy-ness becomes a way we ignore or tune out from our emotional world - and the needs that our emotions are designed to signal. By tuning out, we may be abandoning ourselves emotionally. We may be unconsciously re-creating the emotional abandonment or neglect we felt as kids. Ouch.

If you are on the road to practicing Healthy Secure Adulting, it may be time for your inner parent to some set limits. Because this can be scary and painful, you might not want to dive into the deep end. I don't recommend two weeks of silent meditation as a first step. But maybe you can designate an hour or even 30 minutes one day a week to unplug and listen inward.

It may help to remind yourself that you don't have to do anything but listen. You don't have to fix anything. Your main mission, at least for now, is to keep yourself company while you feel how you feel. Nice company. Kind, friendly, compassionate company. Your inner critic is not needed for this task.

Notice how it feels to offer yourself company without any other agenda. If sadness, fear, pain or anger come up, practice breathing into them. Imagine putting an arm around yourself. See how it feels to just validate the feeling - "Given my history/circumstances, it makes so much sense I feel this way."

When you get in touch with your feelings, a soreness may linger for hours or days after. See if you can just let it happen. When you notice it, be that kind, supportive company for a moment or two. In this way, you may build tolerance for your own emotions and ease yourself out of the feeling-phobia endemic in our culture.

Gradually, over time, you may listen and just be with your feelings more often. As you do this, the abandonment/neglect end. Eventually, you may want to address the messages your feelings are sending - in gentle and kind ways.

It may just be that in limiting the access you have to tech (and the access tech gives the world to your time), you discover more opportunities to relax, to slow down, to enjoy the moment. That's good too. It's really good.

Need practical tools/ideas for reducing access?

• Filter all your email accounts through gmail to reduce spam.
• Take 10 minutes each week to unsubscribe from all the things.
• Set up an auto-responder on your email and an outgoing voicemail telling the world you are unplugged and will respond in X days. 
• Turn off your phone, all the way off!
• If anyone complains they can't reach you, practice saying, "I unplug from X day/time to X day/time every week. I will respond when I'm back online." People will adapt.
• Designate certain days or hours "screen free."
• Spend time outside if the weather permits and look at the world instead of a screen.
• Lay down with your eyes closed for ten minutes or more and just let your mind wander. If you wander into work thoughts, planning, or fixing, gently nudge yourself into something else. You might take the time to feel your feelings. Or you might fantasize about the perfect vacation, or meal, or who you would want to visit if you had a time machine.

We are not built to be "on" all the time. Down time is essential to restore our energy and creativity. Out of doing lots of nothing come some of the best ideas. Trust that doing less will create more richness in your relationship with yourself. And as you become more available to your own feelings and needs, your inner children will come to trust you (and like you) more and more.