There's a Cherokee parable about a wise chief teaching his grandson about life. He explains to the young boy that there is a terrible fight going on inside of him between two wolves. One wolf is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego. The other is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. He tells his grandson that this fight exists in him and in everyone. The boy asks: "which wolf will win?" "The one you feed," says the chief.

Thankfully we have a fight, flight, and freeze response. It can protect us, and I like to practice deep reverence for it. But it can't distinguish between real danger and the stress of traffic or the effects our childhood had on us. And it feeds our fear and anger wolf. So we can't be reminded enough that we also have the ability to practice a different way of being in the world. Each time fear or judgment runs through our heads, we can turn toward it, notice that it is there, resist rejecting it hard, and bring our attention back to our body that lives in the present moment. We can take a breath into our bellies or hearts. We can step outside for a walk or curl up into a restorative pose. We can focus our attention on sensation. Remembering that we are not in danger but in traffic. This can be challenging work if there is deep trauma present, so I recommend doing it with some help if that's your circumstance. But together or alone, we begin to create new patterns where we make room for what comes up, even what's uncomfortable. This is how we feed the love and kindness wolf. By learning to be at peace with our bodies and ourselves, by practicing being present in our bodies, we start to find it easier to be with others in the same way. It ripples out.