“Life stuff” through a neurodivergent, clinically-informed lens
Grateful for The Pause, Self-Trust, and The Ability to Pivot
Hello, November, Dearest Readers!
Here's a short list to get things started:
The leaves are a beautiful array of mid-autumn colors, preparing for their gradual release in the coming days & weeks.
Daylight savings disrupts everyone, especially very hungry pets who do not care what time it is.
Voters came out and VOTED this week!
My brain is asking very loudly, “Wait, it’s NOVEMBER?”
enter resigned sigh here
Grateful For ...
Time with family, friends & honoring the faithfully departed
A brisk walk with a friend from my high school era, both of us wondering out loud why TF the park district was out there watering grass in November??
You, for opening this. Truly.
This month, I am committing to 'the pause' that is this newsletter, for all of us. Specifically for it to land in your inbox every Thursday, from your friendly neighborhood recovering people-pleasing perfectionist, Dr. Rachel.
Life Stuff
Today's two cents is brought to you by the pause, and God Universe Source Spirit (GUSS), always.
What does pausing have to do with trusting yourself, you wonder? Everything, of course! Says the delightfully spicy brain of Dr. Z.
On the one hand, deciding quickly feels productive. On the other hand, "deciding" while on autopilot is just reacting with slightly better branding.
The pause lets curiosity in before the inner critic starts in on some nonsense.
Remember to Breathe. Drink Water. Participate in Purposefully Joyful Movement Today and Every Day.
Somewhere along the way, a lot of us picked up the idea that fast decisions mean confidence and slow ones mean doubt. Let us gently retire that here.
The pause is not procrastination; it is actually data collection.
As for self-trust? Self-trust is built the way any muscle is built: through small, usually wobbly, reps to start.
(Anyone else remember Weebles that Wobbled but never fell down!? Just me? Cool, cool, cool.)
My pro-fersonal experiences of building self-trust have happened, and continue to happen, over time (a LOT of time) along the cobblestone path that is life, fraught with seasonal FGOs.
Here's the three-step pause I use to get out of my own way, once I finally notice that I am, in fact, the one in my way:
Body first. Hand over my heart. Breathe in for 4 counts, hold for 4, and slowly exhale for 4 or more. Then curiosity: what's my body saying about this? Tight? Open? Buzzy? Quiet? You're not looking for a verdict, just gathering information.
Values second. Run the option through what matters most to you. (My top values are kindness, integrity, honesty, and service.) Ask yourself, does this choice fit my values, or does it ask me to compromise something I consider to be non-negotiable?
Why third. Why am I interested in this? Why now? Why in this way?
If your brain is the beautifully wired, pattern-recognizing, overthinking kind (hi, same), it will try to skip straight to step 3 and logic its way around a feeling.
Friendly reminder: you can't out-think a feeling.
Check in with your body first, then your brain can get the mic.
Learning to trust yourself can be hard as f**k when everyone has an opinion, which is exactly why 'the pause' matters.
Bonus friendly reminder about building self-trust: you get to change your mind along the way. Self-trust includes the right to revise your position at will.
As always, take what resonates and leave the rest.
The Clinician’s Corner: Making Small Changes When Your Body Is Calling the Shots
Grateful for our first reader submission for this edition of Clinician's Corner!
Medical challenges often bring a stack of 'shoulds': eat this, move that, track everything, follow up with seven specialists. For those of us with nervous systems prone to overwhelm, a stack of 'shoulds' tends to bring on shutdown, not change. So let’s go smaller.
1. Shrink the step until it feels almost silly.
“Exercise more” becomes “put my shoes by the door.” “Manage my meds” becomes “keep the pill organizer next to my toothbrush.” If a step still feels daunting, it’s too big. Shrink it again.
2. Budget your energy, so you can spend it intentionally.
Many folks with chronic illness use the Spoon Theory (coined by Christine Miserandino) to describe energy as a limited daily supply.
Ask yourself: what costs me spoons? What gives a few back?
Practice planning your daily schedule around what energy reserves you actually have, not what others think you have available.
3. Attach the new thing to something you already do.
Habit stacking works because your brain already has the routine down. Stretch while the coffee brews. Drink water at every red light. Your existing habits can do the heavy lifting.
4. Measure the trend, not the day.
Bodies don’t move in straight lines. A hard day isn’t proof you failed. Look back across a week or a month and notice what shifted, even a little.
5. Let “good enough” count.
Accommodating your body isn’t giving up. It’s information. Using the shower chair, ordering groceries, or rescheduling the thing is a skill, not a weakness.
Quick note: none of this replaces recommendations from your medical team. Bring your questions to them, and if something feels off, trust that signal and speak up. You are allowed to advocate for yourself, as many times as it takes.
Sit With This
Pause here for a breath. I’m serious, indulge yourself, please.
~deep breath~
Place a hand (preferably your own) wherever your body feels tired today.
Ask it: “What’s one small thing you need from me right now?”
Then listen. No fixing required.
For your pondering until next time: when your body and your brain disagree, which one do you tend to listen to first?
What's one tiny decision this week where you could practice the pause, with zero pressure to get it 'right'?
Anchor & Thrive
The pivot, take two
Remember last week, when I announced a pivot and then… didn’t pivot?
Consider this me practicing what I just preached: pause, check in, try again.
Dr. Z’s Two Cents is moving under Anchor & Thrive Coaching, my coaching business for late-identified ADHD and autistic adults, or those who have ever received the "awkward!" label (p.s. this is also me, I'm 3/3!).
Same me, same two cents, sent from a new address.
Want to come with me? Pop your name and email in here: anchorandthrivecoaching.com/two-cents. If you’d rather not, no hard feelings, I promise!
My coaching website is officially live, too! (Cue my small, internal confetti.) anchorandthrivecoaching.com
Want a little help riding out life stuff? Grab my free Self Care Guide A-Z, no strings attached.
Coaching is not therapy, and this newsletter isn’t either.
Energetically sending patience, permission, and practice your way.
In gratitude & solidarity,
Dr. Z