Why I Rarely Ask Why

As many of you may already know, recently I had major surgery on the tail-end of nearly a year’s worth of painful symptoms no one could adequately diagnose. It all culminated in an emergency room visit after an excruciating rupture of a uterine cyst and the removal of that cyst, an ovary and a Fallopian tube. Not the outcome one expects or wants!

When things aren’t going our way it’s common to question why.

Why did this happen to me?

Depending on your situation, perhaps you’ve asked yourself:

Why did I say, or not say, that?
Why did he/she behave that way?
Why didn’t I get that job or promotion?
And on, and on, and on.

The potential pitfall of asking ‘why’ inquiries is getting, and staying, stuck in a problematic state. ‘Why’ doesn’t always allow you a way out, or a means to search for a solution. Even worse, often times, ‘whys’ trap you in a depressive or self-deprecating internal funk.

So how do you get unstuck, or escape, the insidious slump?

Exactly, ‘how!’

Start asking ‘how’ or ‘what’ questions. For instance, when I got sick I didn’t ask “why did this happen to me?” Instead I asked, “OK, so what’s the next step to take now knowing this?”

Piggybacking on the aforementioned ‘why’ questions, you can consider reframing these questions accordingly:

How can I prevent this from happening again?
What can I say differently next time?
What could be the possible reasons for her/him to react that way?
How can I communicate my skill set more effectively to potential employers?

Notice how reformulating these questions creates a rapid mindset shift and positive internal state. This isn’t to say you can’t, or shouldn’t, feel upset or frustrated. This is simply a means to feel what you feel while also allowing a greater perspective.

The second set of questions has the capability of removing personal or interpersonal judgements and starting the decision-making process. These questions allow a quicker release of emotional charges or triggers. They cause you to take action–not fruitlessly fester.

And, of course, not all ‘why’ questions are ill-advised or disempowering, but they do have a greater possibility of creating a slippery slope. To ensure you steer clear of unhelpful thought, you might consider implementing ‘how’ or ‘what.’ I’m curious to know how much better you’ll feel when you do.


How to Process Your Emotions in 4 Simple Steps

Do your emotions explode like a shaken carbonated soda with a loose bottle cap, leaving behind a mess of hurt feelings and words you can’t take back? 

Or do you repress your feelings so far deep that you are numb to any experience of them?

The fact is we weren’t taught how to properly process our emotions by our parents, or our teachers. It’s no fault of their own, however. No one was taught! By not processing our emotions we can carry with us long-standing internal wounds. When those wounds aren’t healed, and emotions aren’t expressed in a healthy manner, physical ailments and illnesses can often ensue.  

To thwart the dangers of unhealthy emotional expression, I’ve created a simple 4-step process to follow in this QUICK 5-MINUTE VIDEO. 

Please SUBSCRIBE and SHARE if you find this video useful!

I’d love to hear your thoughts, learn how well these techniques are working for you, and find out what topics you’d like me to cover in upcoming videos.
After all, I’m here to serve you.
So I intend to make the topics suit your needs.

5 Shockingly Simple Ways to Reduce Anxiety in Seconds!

It’s HERE!

Learn 5 Shockingly Simple Ways to Lessen Anxiety in Seconds – by viewing my first coaching video.

Please SUBSCRIBE and SHARE if you find this video useful!

I’d love to hear your thoughts, learn how well these techniques are working for you, and find out what topics you’d like me to cover in upcoming videos. After all, I’m here to serve you. So I intend to make the topics suit your needs.

Feel free to email me at:

Metaphor of the Mind

Every morning the child would wake with excitement and rush out the door. Running past the white calla lilies of the wetlands and along the lush green hills that ebbed and flowed amid the mountainous range—like the rushing or recession of the seas—the child could hear the harmonies from Town Hall drape the clouds then land at the ears with a loving cool whisper. When having reached Town Hall, the child would peak through a rear window to get a good glimpse inside. A choir of 12 was seen from behind, with its leader in clear view, feverishly making sweeping hand gestures to keep the choir in time. The soaring sounds struck the child’s soul with the intense sensations of joy and wonder. The child was often moved to tears, tears that purged restlessness. It was the best part of the day. Every day. Like clockwork the child maintained the routine for months on end: running past the wetlands and along the hills, all the while maintaining the visage of Town Hall in sight.

But the child would never go inside, even knowing the musical ensemble was made up of all ages. The child maintained a distance, though desperately yearned to be a part of the experience.

There were rumblings in the air among the townsfolk that a storm was coming. The child paid no mind.

At first the storm only began as a sprinkle, as if the skies parted with the sole intention of providing hydration to the picturesque lands of the child’s hometown. As time went on, however, the days turned more brisk and bleak. The drizzle became a torrential downpour that created pools of water along the low lying areas of the hills. The flooding waters made travel impossible. Property owners attempted to salvage their homes, as the floods washed over their floorboards. The winds gushed with such exceeding force, knocking down everything that crossed its path. The child’s parents forbade the child to leave home in midst of the danger. The dark days turned into even murkier months.

The child’s depression grew. Like a caged animal, the child circled the bedroom with nothing to do, since everything was read, played with or already pieced together. The child would look out of the window, at the gloomy skies, praying for them to pass. The child could take no more. Hell bent on making a break for it, the child disobeyed parental orders and snuck outside after bedtime.

The moonlight provided enough insight into the new world the storm left behind.

It was a nightmare. Trees were uprooted, the calla lilies drowned, and now rivers existed where roads once were. Homes were devastated, cars lay to waste, and no sounds were heard but the thrashing of the winds. The child’s heart plummeted. A harsh realization hit, and the child let out a startling scream. The previous 15-minute walk now took two hours to reach Town Hall, as the child was driven off course numerous times by nearly impassible roadblocks. The smile upon the child’s face having finally arrived vanished in an instant. Town Hall was no longer Town Hall at all. It was a mere shell of its former existence. A tree had fallen upon its roof, exposing the interior to the harsh elements. Seeped in water, the wood structure began to soften and corrode, causing it to fold in on itself. But somehow that rear window remained intact. The child, though hesitant to look inside the window, did so and quickly turned away in sobs. The interior was a wreck. No longer fearful of going inside, the child stood among the tangled seats and the soft floorboards. In tears, the child let out a low hum and then sang a sweet soft melody to its dying friend. Upon hearing the tune, two little sparrows flew inside Town Hall and perched themselves on a ceiling beam. Having noticed the guests, the child sang a tad louder for them to hear. Shortly thereafter, a trio of squirrels made their way into Town Hall and nestled in a corner feeding on the acorns from the fallen tree. Encouraged by the added audience, the child sang as loud as possible with closed eyes, as if the gesture helped boost inner confidence. When the song came to an end, and the child’s eyes were once again open, the child immediately became crippled with intense fear and stumbled on some rubbish. Before the child stood all the inhabitants of the hilly wetlands, from herds of deers to chipmunks, frogs, gophers, and beavers. Various species of birds and butterflies flocked at the ceilings creating a moving canopy of color. One eagle flew alone, as if the surveyor of them all. Even the creatures of the sea found homes in the pockets of water throughout Town Hall.

Surprisingly, the animals didn’t turn on one another. They didn’t make a rush for the child. They simply stood in wait.

The child, regaining composure, quickly let out another song to the amusement of the crowd. The birds fluttered their wings, the alligator thumped its tail and the rabbits hopped in place. Soon the skies joined in, making noises that seemed to perfectly harmonize with the bellows of the small child. The synchronous sounds jarred the dark clouds, causing them to slowly disband from its brethren. The deep purples and grays of the sky began to turn blue in hue. Sunshine began to cut through every fissure of the facade and dropped down from the broken ceiling top, cascading upon all those who stood inside.

The storm had finally come to an end.

In the dawn of a new day, the animals began to disperse. But the child remained inside, basking in the light.

 In what ways can you relate to this story? Please let me know by commenting below.