from our January newsletter, written by Linda Lin, RCC, CCC, RCAT

Dear doomscrolling, doomspending, binging…
please be gentle with me this year

Lately, I’ve noticed a familiar cast of characters resurfacing—old coping behaviours from past versions of myself, barging in like they’re the main stars of the show. They’ve brought along their usual companions: unsolicited waves of intense, complex emotions, with no proper space to hold it all.

For many of us, patterns we’ve worked so hard to unlearn are making a comeback. These habits of distraction and numbing aren’t random—they’re our nervous systems doing what they know best: shielding us from overwhelm. It’s an act of self-protection, even if it doesn’t always help in the long run.

𓅰 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯 

everything everywhere all at once  

In a single week, we had to process:

• Genocides, ecocides, scholasticides, dehumanization, forced displacement (Sudan, Congo, Tigray, Syria need our advocacy and solidarity!), all while there's finally a temporary ceasefire and no end to the occupation in Palestine.

• LA fires, rekindling existential dread as we confront our fractured relationship with the land and the ongoing climate crisis.

• Political upheaval, left our neighbour country grappling with the absurdity of a tiktok ban, while contending with the reality of oligarchic control over us both.

• Red note migration, stirring of complex emotions within the Chinese diaspora, as past experiences of sinophobia has no room to process (this is called disenfranchised grief: grief that goes unacknowledged/unvalidated by social norms).

• An unshakable, overwhelming sense of falling behind—where even the algorithm pushes content on us so we feel stuck in an echo chamber.

Your tolerance for stress may be high. But is it sustainable?

 tolerating ≠ growing pains

Our brains are on overdrive, constantly bombarded by crises, notifications, and demands pulling us in every direction. When we operate outside our window of tolerance for too long, our nervous systems (aka. mind and body connection) can shut down, creating the illusion that we simply need to keep tolerating it.

But this constant urgency makes it harder to hear our true voices amid the noise. While distraction might offer temporary relief, it can deepen the cycle of disconnection.

Being good at carrying burdens and tolerating beyond our limits,
without understanding how much we can handle,
is part of the growing pains of healing.

 🌿 nature trusts its growing pains 

- can you trust yours?

Nature doesn’t second-guess, resist, or judge its cycles of growth. It simply adapts, evolves, and unfolds, remains steadfast in its rhythm.

Here's some good news, we ARE like nature: every week, we learn something new that helps us grow beyond who we thought we were—breaking free from the limits of systemic oppression and our own ego (they call them ego deaths for a reason!).

Oh, to be one with nature… or perhaps we can just mirror it

🪞 What if we mirrored nature’s trust in the self? 🤍✨

🌀 can we stay curious and present with our own unfolding?

🌀 can we value both the painful and joyful experiences that shape us?

🌀 can we learn to trust what we create and nurture our own seasons of growth?

Nature doesn’t rush or resist.

It embraces transformation with grace.

So what if we took our visceral cues from nature's elements?

Here’s an art as therapy prompt to step out of the noise and reconnect with your inner pacing

Journal, create art, poetry, or simply reflect and imagine:

🌿 If you were a part of nature, what realm would you belong to? 
☘︎ Would you embody the wisdom of an ancient forest? 
☘︎ The rhythmic energy and motion of oceanic waves? 
☘︎ The mystical germination of desert blooms?

🌿 What would it look, feel, and sound like?