Healing Doesn’t Have to Be Fast to Be Real

Bruce Springsteen’s Long Time Coming reminds me of the Roman God, Janus, which represents standing in the doorway between the past and the future. In Springsteen’s song he sings about old dysfunctional family patterns and the hope for something better.

The song is about breaking cycles. It’s about wanting to show up differently than the people who shaped you. Wanting your kids, or your partner, or your future self to inherit something gentler than what you grew up with.

The premise of the song is that change is slow, sometimes awkward, and always full of moments relearning how to live. But that’s the insight, healing that sticks is earned through slow, painful movement. Healing comes through untangling years of old habits and hurt.

Some of us face our healing on an idol Tuesday when we’re 50. Some of us are forced into it at 13. But we all arrive to it at some capacity. The doorway that Janus stands at represents a noticing of the fork we stand at, and the potential to live a little differently and love a little more deeply. It’s a long time coming, and now it’s here

Here’s a cover of the song.

https://youtu.be/NCaanneec18?si=e0TFHtdrh3VYup9x

What Makes a Good Father?

Most dads I meet are not contemplating what perfection is. They’re assessing themselves and inquiring for clarity on questions like, what does being a good father actually look like?

There are probably many different ways to answer this. But what I observe with so many good dads in my community is a good dad doesn’t always know what to do. But he keeps showing up, even when he feels tired, unsure, or overwhelmed.

It’s the everyday things that matter:

• sitting with your kid when they’re upset

• putting your phone down and listening

• admitting when you lost your cool

• choosing patience over frustration

• setting boundaries because you care

You just need to be present. Kids don’t remember your perfect moments. They remember your steady ones, the small ways you made them feel safe, seen, and important.

A good place to start is asking yourself questions like: where can I be 10% more present?, what conversation have I avoided that could make things better?, what’s one small habit that would make my home feel calmer?

Showing up with honesty, with effort, and openness is more than enough. Good fathers aren’t flawless, they’re willing participants.

The Courage to Say What You Think

Most of us have learned to filter what we say. Many of us remain agreeable to avoid conflict. But there’s a cost to silencing what we really think. Over time, those unsaid words can start to harden into resentment or self-doubt.

Think of it like Ariel in The Little Mermaid. She gives up her voice to become who she thinks she needs to be to fit in, to be loved, and to belong. But without her voice, she loses her power, her connections, her sense of self. We do the same thing when we trade honesty for approval.

Speaking honestly is about speaking with truthfulness. When you say what you think, you begin to understand what you actually believe. You come into contact with truth as you known it. That truth becomes a compass for how you live and relate to others.

In therapy, people often rediscover their relationship to their voice. They practice saying what’s real for them. It’s about showing up as yourself.

Finding your voice might not make everything easier, but it will make life more authentic. Like Ariel, once you start speaking your truth, you begin to remember who you really are.

On Singing: Reflections on Rebekah Brandes’ article

Rebekah Brandes writes that singing isn’t just for musicians, it’s for everyone. Her article, “Are You Singing Enough?”, explores how something as simple as singing can support our mental, emotional, and physical well being. From a therapist’s perspective, it’s a powerful reminder that healing doesn’t always happen through talking or thinking. Sometimes it begins with breath, vibration, and sound.

Singing helps regulate the body.

Brandes reports that singing lowers stress hormones and activates the body’s calming system through deep, rhythmic breathing. Even humming can settle the nervous system. It’s one of the easiest ways to bring the body back to a state of balance . We could think of it as an act of self-care.

It connects us.

When we sing with others, our bodies release oxytocin, which promotes bonding and feeling safe. In a world where isolation is rampant, singing together can increase a sense of belonging. Whether it’s joining a choir, singing at church, or belting out a song in the car with friends, it’s a way to connect.

It invites play.

Many people say, “I can’t sing.” But what if it’s not about talent? What if it’s about reconnecting with joy, curiosity, and freedom. Those are the parts of ourselves that often go quiet under stress.

Brandes’ question, “Are you singing enough?” becomes something deeper yet. It asks, “Are you allowing yourself to be heard? Are you hearing yourself?”

Sometimes the most healing sound isn’t beautiful or polished. Take Kurt Cobain or Tom Waits for example. The voice is about the expression of the what’s real, what’s raw, and what’s alive.

Every Heart Has Its Graveyard

“Every heart has its graveyard, the ghosts it still writes letters to.” Jessica Jocelyn’s haunting line reminds us that grief doesn’t vanish. It settles in. We learn to live beside it. Therapy often begins right there, in the quiet cemetery of the heart, where names fade but feelings linger.

“Some loves die and never stop breathing.” Loss isn’t always a person. Sometimes it’s a dream, a childhood, or a version of ourselves that couldn’t stay. Grief lives on in the dark corners, in the pauses, the silences, the things we don’t say.

“I have learned to plant flowers in the graves of what I’ve lost.” That’s healing. It’s not about forgetting what was, but tending to that thing in us. In therapy, we practice the art of tending, of naming what died, of mourning it honestly, and then growing something different in the soil of old sorrow.

“Even ghosts deserve a home.” To honor our grief is to make peace with our ghosts. To give them space to rest. When we acknowledge what haunts us, it no longer has to chase us. So yes, every heart has its graveyard. But every graveyard, too, can have its garden.

The Harsh Startup Couples Face

Dr. John Gottman says, “The way a discussion starts is the way it will end.” His research shows that 96% of the time, the first few minutes of a conversation predict how it will go. When a talk begins with blame, criticism, or sarcasm, a harsh startup, it almost always ends negatively.

A harsh startup might sound like:

• “You never listen.”

• “Why do I have to do everything?”

• “Here we go again…”

These openers escalate defensiveness instead of understanding. When you notice this happening, pause and reset with a soft startup: speaking gently, focusing on your own feelings, and expressing what you need.

A soft startup invites connection instead of conflict. As Gottman says, “Kindness doesn’t mean you don’t express anger, it means you do so without attacking.”

Closures and Endings

Closure means finding a healthy way to finish something: a relationship, an experience, or chapter of life, so you can return back to the present. Without closure, part of us stays stuck in the past. We may hold on to feelings or questions that were never resolved.

Closure helps us reconcile, “This mattered. I’ve learned from it, and now I can move forward.” It’s not always easy, endings can bring up sadness, anger, or guilt, but facing those feelings allows healing. Even if the other person isn’t available, you can still find closure by journaling, writing an unsent letter, creating art, or talking about it in therapy.

Endings can be uncomfortable, so we often avoid them. We might leave without saying goodbye, hold on too long, or cut things off too quickly. Sometimes we hide behind humor, caretaking, or distract ourselves with busyness and substances. These habits protect us from short term pain but can keep us stuck in the past.

Remember that beginnings and endings are both natural parts of life. Take time to notice what feels true before saying goodbye, and speak from the heart when you can. If that’s not possible, find another way to express your feelings, through journaling, talking, or creating art, so you can let go and move forward.

When We React to Each Other’s Pain

Sometimes opposing groups, people, or even two parts of our own self get stuck in a loop. Each side may feel misunderstood, wronged, even hurt and every reaction stirs a counter reaction. It’s like two alarms screaming at the same time. These ‘us verse them’ moments often spin us into a four-stage spiral.

It’s Not Right

It’s not right starts from a good place, a desire for fairness or integrity. But when the world doesn’t match our sense of what’s right, that question can turn into frustration or moral exhaustion.

It’s not fair

When our needs and efforts go unnoticed, resentment burrows under the surface. We start comparing. We keep score. We notice inequality, right or wrong. There’s a desire for balance, but resentment closes us off.

It’s your fault

At some point, pain looks for a target. We start pointing fingers. We reason that it’s better to engage than to be a victim. Which there is a truth in that. But the more we assign blame, the less space there is for understanding.

They are evil

When blame hardens, the other becomes less human. We see enemies instead of people. Both sides end up defending themselves, and accusing the other person or group.

Finding a Way Out

The shift begins when we stop asking, who’s right? and start asking, what’s happening between us?
Both sides are trying to protect something: dignity, safety, fairness, love. When we can see that, understanding may to reappear. The alarm quiets down.

Absurdism in Everyday Life

Life can feel confusing, unfair, and meaningless. We look for answers, but the world doesn’t always provide them. And that tension, our desire for meaning at the junction of a silent universe is at the heart of absurdism.

In therapy, especially existential approaches, the goal isn’t to force life into sense or reason. It’s to sit with uncertainty, accept what can’t be controlled, and focus on what we can shape.

This doesn’t have to feel bleak. When we stop waiting for life to hand us meaning, we can discover and create our own through choices, values, and small actions everyday. It’s about embracing the struggle, living authentically, and finding moments of joy even when life feels absurd.

As Albert Camus wrote, “The struggle itself is enough to fill a man’s heart.” Feeling lost or overwhelmed? Therapy can help you face life’s big questions and discover your own path forward.

Empiricism in Everyday Life

When it comes to healing, insight matters, but experience holds importance to change us too. That’s where empiricism comes in. Empiricism the idea that real understanding comes from what we observe and live through.

In therapy, this means paying attention to what’s actually happening: in your thoughts, emotions, and choices. Instead of staying in theory, test things out: try new ways of coping, notice what shifts, and learn from what works.

It’s not guesswork. It’s growth through evidence. Your feelings, actions, and small changes become the data that guide your growth. Therapy, at its heart, is a practice of learning from experience. Real life becomes the lab where real change happens.