Skip to main content

Hidden Patterns

Image
By
It is always fascinating to distinguish between what we do on a whim, without much thought, and what we do repeatedly, often without realising it. Many of our actions are not deliberate choices but secondary reactions, shaped by patterns we seldom notice.

Take, for instance, a simple decision to try an ice lolly with an unusual flavour — nothing remarkable in itself. But if you find yourself needing to consult Google, your pet, and a set of divination beads before making such a choice, then it’s worth asking whether this is part of a deeper behavioural pattern.

The truth is, we rarely recognise our own habits. They are often glaringly obvious yet invisible to us. This is because our attention is drawn to what is in the foreground of our awareness, while the forces at work in the background remain elusive, shaping our actions in ways we do not fully understand.

Consider insomnia as rebellion. You may feel powerless over your daily life, as if time is slipping through your fingers. Even when exhaustion sets in, you delay sleep until the last possible moment — not out of necessity, but as an unconscious act of defiance.

Or take the person who spends the entire day biting their tongue, suppressing frustration, enduring rudeness. When they finally return home, they release all that pent-up tension in a storm of irritation. This is the phenomenon of the domestic tyrant — a displacement of unexpressed emotions onto those closest to them.

Some of these patterns align with clinical syndromes, but not all are so neatly classified. Most people go through life, repeating the same cycles day after day, without ever questioning the deeper motivations behind their actions. Unfortunately, much of this unconscious behaviour manifests as pain, frustration, and unresolved trauma — not only for the individual but for those around them as well.


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Fallacy of Self‑Sufficiency

By
Some people will tell you — quite loudly, usually — that they are enough. They need no one, thank you very much. Entirely self‑made. A closed circuit. I, too, fancied myself an island at one time. A small, sturdy principality of one. I paid my own bills. Made my own tea. I even spoke aloud to myself in the supermarket queue, which was meant to prove something. But late at night, when all the heroic independence had been done for the day, there it was — a sort of homesickness without a forwarding address. You know the feeling. You’re supposedly sovereign, but you still wish someone would knock. Self‑sufficiency is a word that weighs a bit too much. It sounds like an insurance policy or a piece of camping equipment. It promises freedom, but only the kind you can fit in a box. Like eating an entire birthday cake alone — which, I confess, I’ve done. Because the truth (and it arrives, as truths tend to, when you’ve just burned your toast) is that we are made of others. We are es...
2 comments
Read more

A Pause Between Heartbeats

By
Time doesn’t tick. It breathes — unevenly, almost nervously. Sometimes it opens itself like a window you didn’t know was there. And inside that window, someone waits. Not with urgency, not with despair. Just a subtle weight: Will you come? Will you listen? You don’t need to prepare. You don’t need a speech. You only need to stop — to let the world stumble for a moment while you say, Yes, I’m here. That small pause, almost nothing, can be everything. Not everything in the dramatic sense. Everything in the sense of air when it was almost not enough. It’s not about how many minutes. Time has never obeyed clocks. What matters is the shift — leaving the room, the page, the self — to enter someone else’s trembling. Someone asks, not out loud but between words: Can you see me? And if you do — even for a beat — something sacred happens. Not salvation, no. Just a flicker of light that says, You are not alone. And that flicker, believe me, can change a day, a night, sometimes a life....
Post a Comment
Read more

Research shows that parental warmth shapes our worldview — how might acupuncture offer a reparative experience in adulthood?

By
  It is becoming increasingly clear that our worldview — whether we perceive life as welcoming or hostile — is shaped far more by the emotional bonds of early childhood than by material hardship or environmental risk. A recent study, published in Child Development , revealed that an adult’s sense of safety, beauty, and benevolence in the world is deeply rooted in the warmth received from parental figures — more so than in their exposure to poverty or danger. This finding resonated with me on a personal level. Time and again, I encounter patients in clinical practice who, despite being outwardly successful and high-functioning, carry an abiding sense that the world is cold, fragmented, even threatening. In acupuncture sessions, it is not uncommon to witness how such emotional imprints — stored not only in the mind, but also in the body — manifest as chronic anxiety, diffuse pain, insomnia, or emotional detachment. Through the lens of Chinese medicine, these states reflect imbalances...
Post a Comment
Read more