How Are You Doing

We often answer “How are you?” without really listening. This reflection invites you to slow down and turn inward, creating space to notice your thoughts, emotions, and body with curiosity rather than judgment. There is no pressure to fix or change anything. Just an opportunity to meet yourself with honesty, compassion, and presence.

Transcript

Hi,

This is Wilson.

This is a space to slow down and reflect on what's happening inside you and between you and others.

These talks are educational and reflective,

Not therapy or medical advice.

Take what fits,

Leave what doesn't,

And move at your own pace.

Most of us are used to answering the question,

How are you doing?

We answer quickly,

Automatically,

Fine,

Okay,

Hanging in there.

But there's often a quieter answer underneath that one.

An answer the nervous system is holding,

Even when the mouth keeps things brief.

This talk is about that quieter layer.

About what happens in the body when stress builds.

About how connection can either soothe or intensify that stress.

And about learning to notice the moment before things tip too far.

Co-regulation is a simple idea,

But a powerful one.

It's the process where one person helps another feel steadier.

Not by fixing them,

Not by correcting them.

But through presence.

A calm tone.

A steady pace.

A sense of being seen.

Most of us learned co-regulation long before we had language.

Through being held.

Through someone staying with us when things felt overwhelming.

And even as adults,

Our nervous systems still respond to those same cues.

There's also something that looks like connection,

But works in the opposite direction.

That's co-escalation.

Co-escalation happens when two people are trying to be understood,

But the way they reach for connection increases threat instead of safety.

Voices get sharper.

Pacing speeds up.

Interruptions happen.

Old grievances surface.

The body braces.

Often,

No one intends for this to happen.

It's just two nervous systems under pressure.

This is where the idea of a window of tolerance becomes helpful.

You can think of it as your captivity for stress.

How much can you hold while still staying present?

Flexible.

And grounded.

Inside your window,

You can listen.

You can reflect.

You can repair.

But outside your window,

Survival takes over.

Sometimes that looks like hyper-arousal.

That fight or flight.

Anger,

Anxiety,

Urgency.

The feeling that something has to happen now.

Other times it looks like hypo-arousal.

It's the freeze or shut down.

Numbness,

Distraction,

Disconnection,

Exhaustion.

The sense of pulling away from yourself or the moment.

And before either extreme,

There's often a quieter signal.

A tightening.

A restlessness.

A subtle urge to defend or disappear.

That early signal matters.

Because once you learn to recognize it,

You have more choice.

Co-regulation doesn't require perfect words.

It does require solving the problem.

It's communicated through safety signals.

Soften the face.

Slowing the voice.

Staying oriented towards the other person.

Even small shifts can change the direction of an interaction.

And when regulation isn't possible in the moment,

Stepping away can be an act of care.

It's not punishment.

Not avoidance.

But respect for the limits of the nervous system.

You're allowed the pause.

You're allowed to return later.

You're allowed to protect steadiness.

As you move through the rest of your day,

You might gently ask yourself,

When do I start to drift outside my window?

What helps me return?

And just as important,

How do I show up when someone else is nearing their edge?

This isn't about getting it right every time.

It's about noticing sooner and responding with a little more care.

Anger often arrives first.

It can feel immediate,

Overwhelming,

All-consuming.

And because of that,

Many people judge themselves for feeling it.

Or they judge others,

Deciding that anger defines who someone is.

But anger has a biological beginning before it ever becomes a story.

When someone or when something feels threatening or unfair,

The body reacts first.

The nervous system activates.

Chemicals surge,

Heart race or heart rate increases,

Your muscles tighten,

Attention narrows.

This initial reaction is fast and automatic.

What's important to know is that this physiological surge is temporary.

Left alone,

It can move through the body in under 90 seconds,

It says.

It's the 90 second rule.

This is sometimes called the 90 second rule.

When anger lasts much longer than that,

It's often because the mind has stepped in.

Replaying the moment,

Rehearsing arguments,

Revisiting injustices,

Adding fuel to the original surge.

This doesn't mean you're doing something wrong.

It means your brain is trying to protect you.

The phrase,

Anger is a choice,

Can sound harsh if it's misunderstood.

You don't choose the first wave.

You don't choose the initial surge.

But you do have influence over what happens next.

You can allow the body to complete its reaction or you can keep re-stimulating it through and thought and through and thought.

Underneath anger,

There's often something more vulnerable.

Anger sits at the top of an emotional iceberg.

Below the surface,

You might find fear,

Sadness,

Hurt,

Or shame.

Anger can feel safer than those emotions.

Stronger,

More protective.

Sometimes anger shows up when a sense of fairness or respect has been violated.

Sometimes it's tied to old wounds that never had space to be acknowledged.

Sometimes it's the result of accumulated pressure,

Exhaustion,

Or stress.

Anger isn't the problem.

It's information.

The practice is learning how to listen without letting it take over.

One gentle approach is to name what's happening.

This is a surge.

This will pass.

And then to support the body.

Slower breathing,

Grounding attention,

Reducing stimulation.

Once the intensity softens,

Curiosity becomes possible.

What was that anger protecting?

What felt threatening?

What need wasn't met?

Responsibility doesn't mean blame.

It means awareness.

And awareness opens space for choice.

As you move forward,

You might reflect on this.

When anger arises,

What does it usually guard?

And what might happen if you listened beneath the surface?

For many people,

Trust isn't simple.

It's layered.

It's cautious.

Sometimes conflicting.

If closeness feels activating,

That doesn't mean something is wrong with you.

It means your nervous system learns something important about safety.

Trust isn't just a belief.

It's a felt experience.

When trust has been disrupted in the past,

The body often learns to scan.

For tone.

For timing.

For subtle shifts.

This can show up as pulling away when things get close.

Or becoming anxious when vulnerabilities appear.

Or moving back and forth between wanting connection and fearing it.

These are patterns,

Not permanent traits.

One way to support yourself is by learning to recognize relational signals.

Not to judge,

But to discern.

Green flags are often quiet.

Consistency.

Flow through.

Repair after conflict.

Respect for boundaries.

Curiosity instead of defensiveness.

Green flags don't demand urgency.

They allow space.

Red flags,

On the other hand,

Often feel intense.

Fast closeness.

Boundary testing.

Control.

Framed as care.

Contempt or dismissal.

Punishment instead of repair.

Intensity can feel like connection when safety hasn't been consistent in the past.

But safety tends to feel steady,

Not urgent.

Boundaries play an important role here.

Not as walls,

But as clarity.

Boundaries aren't about changing someone else.

They're about defining what you will participate in.

You're allowed to pause conversations.

You're allowed to say no.

You're allowed to protect your sense of steadiness.

Self-belonging means staying connected to yourself,

Even when relationships matter deeply.

As you reflect,

You might ask,

What signals help my body feel safe?

And which ones quietly unsettle me?

Trust can grow slowly.

Through patterns,

Through consistency,

Through repair.

You don't have to force it.

You don't need perfect coping strategies.

You need reliable ways to return to yourself.

This is where the idea of islands of regulation become useful.

An island is anything that helps your nervous system settle.

A person,

A place,

An activity,

An object,

A routine.

Islands don't need to be big.

They just need to be dependable.

To make this practical,

It helps to name emotional states.

You might think of three broad zones.

Fire is intensity.

Anger,

Panic,

Overwhelm.

Everything feels urgent.

There's ice is shut down.

Numbness,

Emptiness,

Disconnection.

The energy drops.

Green is steadiness.

It's calm enough,

Focused enough,

Present enough.

The goal isn't to stay in green all the time though.

The goal is knowing how to move back towards it.

Different states need different supports.

Fire often needs less stimulation and more grounding.

Ice often needs gentle activation and connection.

Green needs protection.

A simple weekly check-in can help you notice patterns over time.

Just the past seven days,

What helped?

What didn't?

Which islands you used?

What do you need to adjust?

This isn't about perfection.

It's about awareness.

Self-acceptance grows when you stop fighting your nervous system and start working with it.

Your worth isn't determined by how regulated you are,

Or how productive,

Or how calm.

It's inherent.

As you close the series,

You might reflect on this question.

What helps me come back to steady,

Even a little?

And what would it look like to honor that more often?

This is Wilson.

Until next time.