Inner chaos can feel daunting. 

Chaos brings about uncertainty, fears, and inabilities, and it is inevitable. Life is crazy, hectic, and uncertain, amplifying the chaos within us. With all of the outer chaos in today’s world that seems to bombard us every second, finding any peace between all the challenges being thrown at us can seem impossible.

Living with internal chaos can affect our lives and well-being in many ways. It can cause us to lose focus and bog down our minds. It can cause stress and make day-to-day tasks more difficult. Internal chaos also causes emotional and psychological distress.

Yet chaos is not the enemy. Instead, chaos is simply a symptom that alerts us to a bigger problem: dissatisfaction. 

Inner chaos is an overwhelming sense of dissatisfaction and unhappiness with ourselves as humans and the life we are living. 

Here’s how inner chaos manifests for me:

• I struggle with anxiety.
• My stress level is always through the roof.
• I strive for perfection obsessively.
• I don’t feel good enough.
• I feel empty and lost.
• I’m always tired.

I’ve often turned to philosophy when facing the chaos within, particularly the Stoics. 

The Stoics focus on two things:

1. How can we lead a fulfilling, happy life?
2. How can we become better human beings?

The goal of Stoicism is to reach inner peace by facing and overcoming adversity, practicing self-control, being conscious of our impulses, and realizing our ephemeral nature and the short time allotted. These practices helped them live with their nature and not against it. We must understand the obstacles we face and not run from them; we must learn to transform them into fuel to feed our fire.

I will share some of my favorite principles from the Stoic school of philosophy. Stoic tenets will improve your overall state of mind and life if embraced and exercised regularly. Living intentionally and authentically requires us to be vulnerable, committed, adaptive, and brave, which requires a mindset that can readily negate distractions or negative impulses while focusing our hearts and minds on what’s important. It’s a tricky balancing act.

Without a philosophy to guide our work and life, we will relentlessly succumb to our excuses and distractions. We will make the comfortable mistake of acting on our moods, not our principles.

Principle #1: Acknowledge that all emotions come from within.
It is not outside forces that make us feel something; what we tell ourselves creates our feelings. A stressful situation or unmarked to-do list is not inherently stressful—our thoughts about them are stressing us out. 

Many of us want to place blame and responsibility on external objects because it’s easy to do, but the truth remains that all conflicts start internally in our minds. When we flee from reality—a deadline, an urgent email—we are doing nothing but harming ourselves and undermining our self-discipline.

The next time you encounter an obstacle and feel resistance, don’t look at what’s around you. Instead, look within.

Principle #2: Recognize there is life after failure. 
We can spend months or even years on a project, only to hear destructive criticism or, worse, see it fail. When we share a part of ourselves in our work, and it fails, it can feel painful. 

But recovering from that failure is a practice, a mindset. The lessons we can internalize from that failed experience can help us improve.

No failure, no growth.

Principle #3: Challenge yourself to be brutally honest.
It’s hard to change habits if we aren’t aware of why we didn’t do what we planned to do today and chose to watch mindless series instead.

It’s essential to be mindful of the urges that obstruct us from showing up, engaging, committing, and being present. “Why, exactly, am I feeling this way?” Get to the bottom of that. Investigate it. Dissect it. When you feel resistance, use that as a cue to go forward. The challenge, of course, is training yourself to think that way.

This isn’t about talent or some unconscious reflex. Instead, the practice of self-awareness—to think about your thinking—in how you think, feel, and behave is a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it becomes.

Principle #4: Reflect on what you spend the most time on. 
Scrolling your Instagram feed? You’re probably not even paying attention to those reels and sponsored ads. That email? I know it’s fun connecting, but can it wait?

In my observations, people who live their best lives do so because of their ability to prioritize. They honor every hour of their day. If we put cameras behind our heroes, would our life ethics compare? Our focus? Our determination to get things done? To do something that matter to you most?

Principle #5: Put the phone away and be present.
It’s not that we live in an age of distractions, but rather a period where we fail to teach and embrace mindful motives. To be present, as well as learning to be alone, is a habit. Some people are good at it because they make time to do it if needed, or they would go mad.

Throughout your day, find a moment to sit and be still, however fleeting. It doesn’t matter where you are. Take a few deep breaths, put your phone on silent so there’s no chance of interruption, and just reflect on the events that took place throughout your day. When you’re working, be ruthlessly present. Let your mind focus on the task and what you’re trying to accomplish, and do it with diligence, patience, attentiveness, and care. Sooner or later, you’ll realize how much of an asset this is to your overall quality of life. 

Principle #6: Remind yourself that time is our most precious resource.
What I particularly love and find challenging about Stoicism is that death is at the forefront of their thoughts. They realized the ephemeral nature of humans.

It provides a sense of urgency to realize that you’ve lived a certain number of hours, and the hours ahead of you are not guaranteed as the ones you have lived. When I think of this, I realize that every day truly is an opportunity to improve, not in a cliché kind of way, but to learn to honestly appreciate what we are capable of achieving and how we are very responsible for the quality of our lives. 

It makes our self-respect, work ethic, generosity, self-awareness, attention, and growth evermore significant. The last thing any of us wants to do is die with regret, hence why following principles of Stoicism puts your life into perspective. It humbles you and should also deeply motivate you. 

How we lead our lives must embody the principles we practice. Less comparing, criticizing, and consuming; more creating, learning, and living.

How about you?
What current principles do you follow that help you master inner chaos?

​Join the discussion in the community.

​“Emotion” is a dirty word.

I spent the better part of my twenties oscillating between bipolar highs and lows. Ever since my diagnosis, I’ve been wary of any emotion. They became something that would make me vulnerable, fragile, and weak. Prone to a relapse. 

Yet, this fundamental inability to admit and discuss my emotions, even in front of myself or my therapist, the lack of skill to navigate and work through them, and the suffocated curiosity to realize what underlining internal disharmony they indicate, have kept me in an emotional and psychological pressure cooker.

This denial of emotional affect I’ve diligently practiced has led me to transform into a person who is overburdened with emotional and psychological stress that no amount of self-help books or weekly therapy can quick-fix.

I have emotions.

Big ones.

I’m an emotional, driven, type-A, intensely passionate, and overwhelmingly sensitive soul. I’ve always also had low self-esteem and have cherished the approval I’ve seen in people’s eyes as a reaction to my overachieving momentum.

I learned to bury my emotions under all sorts of addictions.

I was addicted to playing the piano, dancing, theatre, studying, overworking, and smoking a pack a day. And just getting immersed deep in any activity or fixation I could get my mind obsessed with in a desperate effort not to think about my emotions.

I’ve spent the past four years trying to undo the psychological and emotional damage I have consistently caused myself my entire life. Because I systematically denied myself feeling pain, sadness, anger, or grief.

It took me way too long to realize that you can’t solve problems you’re unwilling to have.

And by that time, I had no muscle memory in place. So I have to train my brain to process unpleasant emotions.

Not to bury them.

Not to rationalize them.

Not to distract itself with anything and everything.

But to face them, acknowledge them, embrace them, accept them, understand where they’re coming from, and eventually reach the root causes of their existence. 

When we try to control or eliminate our emotions, we deprive ourselves of experiencing the richness of life. 

We numb them all because we can’t selectively numb them. 

We feel it all or nothing at all.

If we want a life full of deep meaning, true love, and emotional strength, it will involve the risk (and often the reality) of discomfort, conflict, and loss. It means there will be sadness, fear, anger, and disgust. If we eliminate negative emotions and experiences from our lives, we will be poorer and weaker for having done so.

And the truth is, by denying myself sadness, I’ve lost joy. 

One of the greatest consolations of old age is that while older people have negative emotions just like the rest of us, they suffer less from them. One reason is that they have learned that although adverse events are inevitable, negative emotions are fleeting unless we choose to hang on to them. They figure out that they get a head start on feeling well not by avoiding negative emotions but by simply choosing to let them pass through them. 

I learned that when I resist these emotions and suppress them, I close up my heart and begin erecting inner walls within me. I pull myself into a restrictive space and hide in the darkness. 

I do this for one simple reason: to avoid feeling that pain again.

But there lies the problem. 

When I fail to create for myself the space I deserve to sit with the pain of my emotions and fully feel them, I am blocking my inner flow of energy. So instead, I hold on to this pain without even realizing it. It becomes a soft, sensitive spot for me—a weakness. It becomes an unmet need—a trigger point. And anytime someone touches that or an event triggers that memory, it’ll rise instantly, and I’ll feel the pain all over again.

I can’t run away from fear, anger, sadness, grief, or pain. It will simply chase me again. Running away from my emotions gives them more power —it lights them up. They become louder, clouding my sky and filling it with noise.

The truth is, while we consciously work to face the darkness and attempt to free ourselves of our inner emotional traumas and pains—and while we might completely dissolve their hold on us—the scars will stay with us forever.

And so we might feel them once in a while, but that's okay. Scars. They’ll always be there. But their stories are how we choose to write them. 

The scars are not there to hurt us or draw us back into the void. Instead, they serve to remind us of the progress and growth we’ve made. They help to remind us of how far we’ve come in our strength and transformation. They remind us of the person we consciously choose to become for ourselves and others.

I’ll be riding the waves of sadness until I find joy again.

​I don’t know how to breathe. 

Most of the time, my breathing is shallow. When I am anxious or stressed, I stop breathing. When my therapist asks me to take a slow, deep breath, she has to insist a few times until the breathing gets slower and deeper. 

Anxiety has always coexisted with my bipolar symptoms. After living through my first panic attack, I started seeking proper support for my mental health. 

I was walking down the streets of Montreal to attend a class when my heart started racing. I couldn’t breathe, and my chest hurt like a million daggers. I felt dizzy and couldn’t walk. 

In a torrid tango with my bipolar episodes, what ensued was a constant state of excessive worry over everyday things—personal health, work, social interactions—most days, even today, though to a much lesser extent. 

Sometimes in life, we are placed in demanding situations that feel out of our control. As a result, they lead to intense feelings of stress and anxiety. Although each person and each case is different, the best way to handle these negative emotions is to change the perspective through body-based techniques. Of these, breathing can be the most effective.

For thousands of years, people have used the art of breathing for equally profound effects on the mind and body. Some have used it to relieve chronic pain and many more to cope with anxiety, stress, and depression. Some claim it led to spiritual enlightenment.

But I’m as spiritual as a stone, so I use it to help me stay calm in a chaotic world and better appreciate everyday life's bittersweet beauty.

Breathing seems so ordinary that its true significance can easily pass us by. But, unfortunately, it is so mundane that many of us have even forgotten how to breathe correctly — and this, as I found out during my anxious bipolar episodes tribulations, has vast implications for overall health and happiness.

Correct breathing enhances the immune system and helps rid the body of toxins and pollutants. It calms the mind and wards off anxiety, stress, and unhappiness. And focusing on the breath with the mind’s eye is the heart of mindfulness meditation, which has been clinically proven to beat depression and enhance overall happiness, well-being, clarity of thought — and even decision-making and creativity.

But there’s also a hidden — and equally important side to breathing. Your breath reflects and amplifies your emotions. So incorrect breathing can cause anxiety, stress, and even depression.

It works like this: momentary stress causes the body to tense, and you begin to breathe a little more shallowly. A shallow breath lowers oxygen levels in the blood, which the brain senses as stress. Breathing then becomes a little quicker and shallower. Oxygen levels fall a little more. The heart begins to race. The brain feels a little more stressed.

It’s a vicious cycle.

But there is an alternative. A gently rising and falling breath stimulates the parts of the brain and nervous system responsible for creating a sense of calm tranquillity. Soothing hormones flow through the body. These quiet negative thoughts, feelings, and emotions, so you begin to breathe a little more slowly and deeply. You begin to relax.

It’s a virtuous cycle.

The art of breathing lies in paying attention to your breath in an extraordinary way. It’s the heart of mindfulness and as old as meditation itself. You can learn the basics in just a few minutes. However, mastering it takes somewhat longer.

The art of breathing kindles a sense of wonder, awe, and curiosity — the foundations of a happier and more meaningful life. It grants you the courage to accept yourself with all of your faults and failings. To treat yourself with the kindness, empathy, and compassion that you genuinely need and help you to look outwards and embrace the world.

And when you do this, you’ll start to live mindfully.

I was diagnosed in 2018.

It took a few months to manage the ebbs and flows of my mind, body, and life. But it wasn’t until the pandemic began that I started to feel recovered. 

First, I think it’s important to define “recovery.” For me, the most realistic definition is that I’m spending more time living my life than managing bipolar disorder. 

I often tell people that when it comes to reaching recovery with bipolar disorder, the only important thing is that you are making consistent progress. My second piece of advice is that there is no time limit. It will take as long as it takes, but if you focus on moving forward daily, I believe everyone can get there.

All of that said, it is reassuring to see progress. It’s easier to accomplish anything the second time around. It’s not about knowledge or experience, either. It’s about having the confidence of knowing you can do it. Experiencing success is a powerful motivator.

My success indicators are simple things, like taking medications as prescribed, making appointments with my treatment team, and arriving on time for these appointments. While I agree these aren’t exciting, establishing this track record is much more progress than people realize.

The reality is that living well with bipolar disorder means consistently doing typical everyday tasks. Many of those tasks are mundane and boring. However, it’s essential to realize that you're doing well if you are successful at life’s minutiae.

Recovery from mental illness is more than just taking your meds. But unfortunately, people seem to believe that the meds did all the hard work. I agree that medication helps to settle the ‘biological chaos,’ but it doesn’t fix my problem. It doesn’t change the way I think or the way I behave. That’s still down to me. 

Let’s make no mistake. I would not have had any sort of stable life I have without my meds. They have helped me excel at work, maintain happy and healthy relationships, and give me back some form of sleeping pattern and partial control over my disorder. But the hard work was still mine.

Recovery means staying aware of your mental health. No one knows more than you when something is off. Be brave enough to influence your treatment and advocate for yourself: speak to your doctors about what works and doesn’t. Tell your friends and family about how they can help you. Tell someone when you have a bad day. Learn your triggers and make others aware of them.

Your recovery might look different from someone else’s, but it’s still bloody fantastic. Comparison is a fucking killer. We’ve all done it. Just because someone looks like they’re doing excellent doesn’t mean they are. So stay in your lane, and focus on your goals.

Recovery is learning to spot your warning signs. It is not always easy to know what you are feeling, especially as it’s happening, and put it into words – but try to recognize how you are feeling and any signs that lead to you feeling unwell. It can be helpful when seeking support.

Recovery is learning to put yourself first. I have left jobs and cut off friends if I believed it was affecting my mental health. You will always be your longest commitment – it is a significant relationship to have with yourself. So what if things haven’t gone the way you planned, the new way things are doesn’t match the plan you had for your life? It’s your life now, and you can make it whatever you want. Things will always be okay.

Recovery is taking steps to increase your self-esteem. Believe you deserve happiness, that you matter, and that you are good enough. Take time for yourself until you feel like yourself. Move past the mistakes you’ve made. Recognize what you are good at and why you have worth. Recovery is knowing that the world is a better place with you in it. I can promise you now that no one else quite like you, and it makes the world a better place with you in it.

The goal is to manage the illness in a way that allows for fewer mood swings in terms of duration and intensity. This is our success. Work on having a plan that is stronger than mood swings.