We live in a world where being exhausted has become a badge of honor. The busier, more stressed, and more overwhelmed we are, the more productive or “successful” we’re assumed to be. Rest is framed as laziness, slowing down as weakness. Without realizing it, many of us end up competing in what can only be described as the Olympics of suffering.

One idea that really stayed with me is this exact concept : the way we unconsciously compete with ourselves and others over who is more tired, more stressed, or more overwhelmed. It sounds dramatic, but it’s deeply normalized. In this mindset, slowing down feels almost irresponsible, as if rest equals failure. So the cycle continues: constant stress, no real release, just endurance.

This links closely to another concept Dr. Lucy spoke about: that humankind was not meant to live the way we do now. In the wild, animals live calmly until a threat appears. When it does, they enter fight-or-flight mode , and once the threat passes, they return to a state of calm. Humans, however, are almost always in fight or flight. Our adrenaline, cortisol, and other stress hormones stay heightened, keeping us in a constant state of survival. Because of this, we rarely complete the cycle of calming down. Simply noticing this ,and consciously practicing calm , becomes essential for both mental and physical health.

Another thing that struck me was how rarely logic is what keeps us stuck. Instead, it’s reception. People cling to what feels familiar, not necessarily what is healthy. Familiarity is often mistaken for safety, even when something is stressful or damaging. If it’s what we grew up with, our nervous system recognizes it and says, at least I know this. That alone explains why change can feel so threatening, even when it’s clearly needed. I am definitely guilty of this. There’s often a gap between acknowledging the issue and actually acting on it. The bravery required to change can be much harder than simply being rational about it.

Another hard truth was realizing how easily trauma can form while growing up. It doesn’t require one dramatic event , it can happen quietly and repeatedly, embedding itself subconsciously. As we grow older, we may not even remember the original source, yet we still spend energy trying to avoid re-feeling it. Ironically, that avoidance becomes a major source of stress. The body stays alert and braced, always preparing for something it can’t quite name. I connected with this deeply , not necessarily in relation to parenting, but in areas like health and relationships. The fear of the least desired outcome creates stress long before anything even happens.

This is where the idea of embodiment felt especially useful. Embodiment isn’t abstract; it’s the small sensations we usually ignore , butterflies in the stomach, tight shoulders, shallow breathing. These sensations are information. A nervous system without embodiment is like a CEO without data, making decisions in the dark. Learning to notice these signals isn’t about overanalyzing them, but about letting the body converse with you. They’re like a boardroom , each sensation deserves to speak, but none should dominate the meeting. Let them say what they need to say, then sit back down, instead of yelling for hours.

The core skill behind all of this seems to be the ability to notice. Not to fix. Not to judge. Just to notice. When stress begins and the body tenses, practicing awareness creates a pause , and that pause is often enough to stop the spiral from taking over.

One of the most surprising takeaways for me was the idea of choosing guilt over resentment. At first, it sounds counterintuitive. But guilt, while uncomfortable, is temporary and actionable. Resentment, on the other hand, hardens and lingers. It quietly shapes how we see people and ourselves. This surprised me because guilt is something I struggle with. But Dr. Lucy helped me realize that guilt means you are empathetic and emotionally aware ,which isn’t a flaw. Guilt comes and goes like the tide. Resentment traps you in anger about a past you can’t change, making it far more exhausting.

In daily life, what feels most useful is this: slowing down doesn’t mean giving up; noticing isn’t admitting weakness; and listening to the body is essential for sanity. The goal isn’t to eliminate stress entirely, but to stop living in a constant, unconscious reaction to it. Maybe the real win isn’t surviving the Olympics of suffering , but stepping out of the competition altogether.