Thea's Truths & Thresholds

Tag: Thea’s Truths & Thresholds

  • Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: Everyday Discernment

    Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: Everyday Discernment

    As a highly sensitive person, I’m wired to notice details, lapses, and inconsistencies. That isn’t something I can turn off. It’s how my nervous system works — an unfortunate consequence of and a scar from my family abuse and trauma history.

    The growth hasn’t been about stopping noticing. It’s been about learning what I do with what I notice.

    ***

    A recent example: laundry pickup.

    I gave clear, written instructions for my laundry to be collected from the condominium I’m renting, not the unit I own next door. Despite repeated clarification, the staff still got it wrong. This wasn’t isolated; it followed a familiar pattern.

    I raised the issue with the training supervisor. Her initial response framed it as a misunderstanding by a new staff member and asked for patience. I responded firmly: the issue wasn’t comprehension, but attention and follow‑through. I asked what management was doing to prevent repeated errors. Then I stopped. No chasing, no escalation, no venting. My part was done.

    ***

    Another example: the condominium entrance ramp.

    It was unsafe for seniors, even more so for PWDs like myself who use a cane, albeit temporarily. It doesn’t meet the standard measurement.

    I reported it to the property manager and gave a heads‑up to the HOA board chairman and board director for building maintenance. I called for an impromptu discussion with the security head and property engineer when I visited the building, who said that they were addressing it. I reiterated to the property engineer — don’t wait for the community to take collective action or for someone to alert the proper authorities.

    I won’t chase how soon this gets fixed. Meantime, I am asking the entrance guard to assist me as I step down the ramp. When I no longer need my cane, this becomes a non‑issue for me. I will leave it to the other senior‑PWD community members to step up — if they choose to. Rallying them is no longer mine to carry.

    I reported it. I escalated it to the HOA board. My job is done.

    ***

    Recently, I noticed a security guard using his cellphone, unaware I was approaching. It’s been the condominium security team’s – or humanity’s, in general, for that matter – perennial habit over the years.

    I called him out directly, told him to stop using his phone while on duty, and reported the incident to the security head. I stated the facts and made it clear that the next steps were his to take. And then I stopped. No monitoring, no replaying, no seeking validation afterward. My role was complete.

    ***

    There have been other lapses — a technician ignoring clear instructions, a store personnel mishandling a device replacement despite repeated reminders.

    In the past, I would have stepped in quickly, clarifying, fixing, compensating for others’ lapses — even stepping in to teach them how to do their job. That rescuing reflex was strong and deeply ingrained. But now, I stop myself. I raise the issue when it affects me directly, especially my safety. What I no longer do is stay entangled beyond that point.

    ***

    Living in the Philippines adds another layer.

    I’m aware of cultural dynamics around authority, confrontation, and saving face. I adjust my tone when needed — not to shrink myself, but to reduce resistance and stress. Sometimes that means using pakiusap (polite request) instead of a direct command, or shifting between English and Filipino depending on the situation and the individual involved. Working within these norms has become part of how I protect my energy.

    ***

    My daily discernment practice may sound simple. It isn’t.

    Given how my nervous system is wired, it is one of my constant challenges, but something I must do to protect my peace and mental health. And it is a new pattern for me — one I’ve only recently begun to live, and one that marks my growth.

    I am well aware that, as with any attempt to break patterns, I will still find myself pulled back into familiar habits. But I am determined and confident that as I strengthen my skills in boundary‑setting and discernment, I will find myself becoming less entangled and dysregulated. More at peace.

    What stands out afterward and what I’m appreciative of isn’t the issue itself, but my internal state. I feel calm. No lingering agitation. No urge to explain again. Or reach out to others to vent, leaking energy unnecessarily. No impulse to rescue the situation or carry responsibility that isn’t mine.

    I act when action is needed, and I stop when my part is done. Inefficiencies still arise, but my energy no longer scatters. Some days, the terrain still feels heavy — even when I move through it skillfully and mindfully, even when I speak the right language.

    There’s no tidy solution. Just the ongoing cost of clarity in a culture that often resists it.

    So I pause.
    The bag is set down — not abandoned, just lightened.
    The books stay — inherited, unchanged, still shaping the culture.
    The lens remains — not for judgment, but for seeing what’s real and seeing clearly.

    This is how I carry myself now. Not alone. Not entangled. Just clear.

    If any part of this speaks to you, I invite you to share your reflections in the comment section below.

    Peace and Blessings,
    — Thea 💙

    Footnote:
    For those curious, the Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff Workbook includes a self‑test on everyday stress. I scored 23 out of 30 — which falls in the “rarely sweat the small stuff” range.  It’s reaffirming, and something I’m pleased to acknowledge.

  • Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: Redefining What Matters

    Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: Redefining What Matters

    For a long time, the phrase “don’t sweat the small stuff” felt hollow to me. It sounded like bypassing. Dismissive. Like another way to excuse what should never have been excused. In my family, in systems that tolerated abuse, in environments that mistook generosity for obligation — those were never small. Those were patterns. Naming them was not oversensitivity; it was clarity.

    Now, in this quieter chapter, I see where the phrase actually lives. It never belonged in places where dignity was eroded or truth had to be swallowed to preserve appearances. But it does belong in how I move through relationships and daily exchanges — where discernment, not erasure, is the measure.

    Friends and Family

    With friends, I notice the difference.

    Claire, with whom I recently reconnected, is someone I can meet at depth, and she meets me there, too. When she didn’t call me back after saying she would, I felt the sting. Her later text about “peace of mind” landed tone‑deaf, and I caught myself bracing. But when we spoke again, the conversation was supportive and real. Because Claire consistently meets my clarity, I can choose to let go of her misstep. There are more substantial gifts her friendship brings, and I won’t make a big deal out of a missed call. That’s small stuff.

    With my family of origin, it was never small.

    There was a pattern of abuse and dysfunction. The time came when I no longer felt compelled to play the rescuer or victim in the drama triangle. I embraced my role as the truth‑teller, and that clarity cost me, but it was structural truth.

    *****

    Neighbors and Community

    The same with the condo community: entitlement and disrespect weren’t lapses, they were patterns. Patterns of abuse. That required fire.

    And yet, not every neighbor is the same.

    Jean has shown she can meet me at depth, even if my family estrangement story is foreign to her. Fatima, on the other hand, cannot meet me there. She is not malicious, and she cares in her own way, but her bandwidth is limited. I accept what she can offer without overextending myself. That’s discernment too.

    *****

    Cultural Terrain

    Even in cultural exchanges here in the Philippines, I’ve seen how politeness can mask avoidance. Hiya (shame), indirectness, palusot (excuses) — they surface daily. Naming them doesn’t mean it needs to be met, addressed, responded to, or even apologized for. Sometimes the truth lands in silence, sometimes in discomfort. Either way, I no longer carry the weight of how it is received.

    *****

    From One Extreme to Another

    In the corporate world, I wore the armor of title and leverage. I was often labeled mataray (feisty) or masungit (grumpy) — sharp, exacting, unbending.

    When I left that world, I overcorrected. Without positional power, I softened too much. I tried to become endlessly accommodating, mistaking self‑abandonment for humility. I lowered my voice, my expectations, my edges. At the time, I thought that was peace. Later I understood: it was erasure. Self-abandonment. Self-betrayal.

    Now I stand differently. I am no longer a boss, but I am still sovereign. I don’t need the armor, and I don’t need the overcorrection. What remains is discernment: fire for patterns, release for noise, acceptance for limits.

    The Reclaiming

    So I no longer confuse peace with silence, or anger with truth, or tolerance with wisdom.
    It keeps me from saying yes when I really mean no.
    It protects me from doing what isn’t mine to do — a reflex of my deeply ingrained rescuing pattern.
    A pattern that, thankfully, I was able to finally overcome only recently.
    My fire is ethical, not emotional.

    This is not numbness. It is grounded strength. Quiet authority. And for the first time, it feels like peace that does not ask me to shrink myself in order to exist.

    Not sweating the small stuff is a call for discernment — a practice of peace with integrity. It means I don’t shrink. I discern, and I choose.

    In the next entry, Everyday Discernment, I’ll share more examples of how this practice shows up in daily interactions — from service lapses to community exchanges — and how cultural values shape the terrain I navigate.

    If any part of this speaks to you, I invite you to share your reflections in the comment section below.

    Peace and Blessings,
    — Thea 💙