| Micro-real life-practice |
A few nights ago, I lay awake, my mind full of thoughts—mostly around money, a recurring theme when I’m challenged with large, unexpected expenses.
Fear, frustration, anger, and self-judgment are the norm in these sleepless hours.
I noticed what was happening. I welcomed the feelings and felt them in my body. “You are welcome, but you cannot drive,” I said with my inner voice.
I could feel the anger in my chest and abdomen. I welcomed compassion and humility, and asked for understanding.
“I choose coherence. Where does love want to move here?” I asked.
A vision of my earlier life as a child appeared—sad, fearful, confused, and troubled. I remembered a birthday when I was about 10. I wanted a car or tractor I could sit in and pedal around. I saw other kids with them, and I really wanted one for my birthday.
But I did not get one. My mother said it was too expensive and they could not afford it. My disappointment must have been palpable; my mother never forgot that birthday, and I clearly expressed that disappointment.
As I looked back at the young boy, I saw that I was not only disappointed but also confused. I could not understand why some people could have something and I could not. In my young mind, it didn’t make sense; it seemed unfair. I couldn’t reconcile it as a child. The weight of that stayed with me to this day.
There it was: I could not have certain things; they were not in my realm of possibility—because my mother said so. It left me feeling unworthy, different, and less than. Somehow, I saw myself as unequal to others who had more. I could not understand why this was. Why me? What was wrong with me?
This little boy’s disappointment still lives in me today. His feelings of not being good enough enter my adult self when things are challenging. They are unconscious, but those old feelings get triggered and affect my thoughts—particularly in the sleepless midnight hours.
Looking back, I think this was a defining moment in my life. And strangely, last night was also a defining moment where I recognized the connection between us—how the little boy is still alive in me.
I imagined going back to visit my younger self.
“I see you—wanting the red pedal car so badly. You felt the “no” like a brick wall: confusing, unfair, heavy. It made you wonder if you were less, and if you would never get what you want.
I’m here now, beside you. You did nothing wrong. You were worthy then; you are worthy now.
You are loved, wanted, and safe with me. We learn together now—with kindness. When fear visits, I’ll hold your hand. When anger rises, we’ll breathe. When shame rises, we’ll answer with truth: “We belong. Together, we choose our next kind step.”
Thank you for your courage, your heart, your dreams. I carry them with care. Let’s rest. Tomorrow we take one kind step forward—with care and coherence.”
There is a freeing in this caring reunion. I feel a warmth and a release, as if I let go of a weight I was carrying for so long. The tightness around money eased, and I feel excitement to take the next step.
The heaviness was gone. It may come back, but I will hold space with care and appreciation, understanding and humility—in honor of my younger self who had the courage to dream and ask why.
Applying the When–Which–How Method
When:
A trigger is sparked—tight chest, racing thoughts, fear erupts.
Which: Compassion leads. Understanding calms me. Appreciation for my younger self flows.
How: Hand to heart. Inhale, exhale. Whisper to my younger self, “You are safe with me. We take the next kind step together.” Do it today.
Visitors in the midnight hour bring gifts of coherence as return and deep repair.
Six Heart Virtues: Appreciation • Compassion • Forgiveness • Humility • Understanding • Valor
Try it today: Name the virtue, take one breath, choose one small act.
Practice with us at thesixheartvirtues.com.