In a century where there are so many human advances, there is a war cry moving through Western society. It is not a bloodcurdling cry. It is a lower frequency. In the chaos and pace of today, you may not hear it. If you pause long enough and pay attention, you may hear it.
Imagine a heartbeat. It should be strong, evenly paced. Thump da thump. Over and over, giving us steadiness, ease, and confidence. Though today, the rhythm feels erratic. We are pushed and pulled in so many directions that it causes more confusion, more disconnect.
Our ancestors navigated and focused on food and shelter. That was their survival. Today, we are still striving, advancing, but at the root of it, we are starving for human basics. Our bodies can be fed and still lack nourishment, our minds are so busy that moments of quiet have become a rarity, and our souls are endlessly searching.
The starving human exists today, yet we can send people into space and have AI run our research. How do we get back to the basics that nourish us? And how do we hold on to them when life hits hard?
My son Connor asked me a question one day that brought this home:
“What do you do when you are progressing forward positively and LIFE HITS YOU?”
As humans, we want the ability to do better, be better, but we get derailed. How do we reset to find mind, body, and soul again?
Through walking through life’s explosions, I learnt a lesson. When life hits hard, what often appears are the habits that once dragged us down, rather than the healthy ones we have been building.
Research suggests that under stress, we can lean more on familiar, habitual responses. Pausing and making deliberate choices can become harder. That does not mean we will always return to old coping habits, but we may feel the pull towards something we have practised before, even when it no longer serves us.
When I closed down my studio, I packed up and went to Arizona for two months. I already knew I was probably going to move. I had to rebrand, start all over.
On the way, I landed in Las Vegas with my niece. We went out for drinks. But I woke up the next morning, my eyes shot open, and I was hit with severe anxiety.
I looked over at my niece and thought, “Okay, you can’t have an anxiety/panic attack right now because she’s here, and you need to be strong.”
So I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and asked myself, “What tools do you have? What experiences has life given you to help you navigate this very moment?”
Having a drink to numb the pain was an old way of coping, and I didn’t want to fall into that.
“What three things can I repeat over the next two months so I do not fall down a spiraling path?”
Gratitude. Push-ups. My morning cup of coffee.
I write gratitude every morning. I had been doing it for over 10 years. Before my feet hit the floor, I find something to be grateful for and write it down.
My second was push-ups. I do a hundred push-ups a day. I didn’t need a kettlebell with me. I could just move my body.
My third was more soulful: the simple pleasure of a morning cup of coffee. I could hold it in my hands, breathe it in, and have that moment of peace.
Because when life is hard, we can’t do everything. Our bandwidth shrinks.
Start with three simple things: one for the mind, one for the body, and one for the soul.
We do not all need the same three things. For another, it may be a conversation, music, prayer, or time outside.
Keep it small. Keep it within reach.
The starving human needs nourishment. Food and rest. Movement and connection. Something to be grateful for and moments of pleasure we have time to feel.
Sometimes finding our way forward begins with a familiar rhythm.
Thump da thump.
Something steady to return to when life hits.
