New Beginnings Feel Hard

(calming music) Headspace Studio. Hi, it's Dora, and you're now listening to Radio Headspace. I'm so glad you're here. (calming music) So my partner and I moved to New York City on New Year's Eve, and I remember stepping out of the car in the evening with the cold air hitting my face. Though being from Canada, I barely felt it. What I did feel was the energy of the city. The streets were full of life. People bundling up in coats, heading to parties, making their way towards Times Square. The hum of a city preparing to celebrate. And there we were, exhausted, wired, standing on the sidewalk with all of our suitcases. A few days later, we got the keys to our apartment. And if you know New York, you know that getting keys uptown near Central Park, and living downtown near Washington Square means you're in for a trek. We made our way downtown, unlock the door to our empty apartment, and stood there in the middle of the space. No furniture, no bed, we were in a new place starting over, and we didn't even have anywhere to sleep. I remember trying to stay as present as possible, breathing, focusing on one task at a time. But underneath my attempt to stay present, I could feel the stress and pressure building. (calming music) There is a Buddhist teaching called the Parable of the Two Arrows. The first arrow is the actual event, so the pain or stress that happens to us. In this case, moving is objectively stressful. It's considered one of the biggest life stressors for many people. That's the first arrow. It's real and it's valid. But then there's the second arrow. And the second arrow is the story we tell ourselves about the stress, the narrative we build around it. For me, the second arrow was, this is too hard. Moving during the holidays is chaotic. Everything is overwhelming, I can't handle this. And I kept telling that story to myself, to my partner, to anyone who asked how the move was going. But here's what I realized. The first arrow, the actual stress of moving was temporary. The second arrow, the story I was telling, was what kept the stress alive? Before we moved to New York, my partner and I spent the holidays with my family. My nephew, who is two years old, was there, and I found myself watching him one afternoon as he stood on the couch, looking down at the floor full of pillows. He wanted to jump. You could see it in his face, the curiosity, the hesitation, the should I? And then he did it. He jumped off the couch, landed on his feet, and immediately his whole face lit up. And then without any hesitation, he climbed back up and did it again, and again, and again. No fear, no second guessing, just pure presence and joy. My nephew has beginner's mind. He was approaching...