What you keep in your heart shapes who you become.
You may not control what flows toward you, but you can cultivate what stays within you.
Often, we feel trapped in situations with no choice: those relentless work challenges, interpersonal friction, unexpected losses—they fall like random rain from the sky. We can’t stop the rain, only get drenched.
Yet deep down, we refuse to accept this sense of “helplessness.” We exhaust ourselves by debating the rights and wrongs of every unwelcome event, draining our energy in endless internal battles.
The Essence of Internal Struggle: When You Let Everything Linger
Imagine your heart as a garden.
The winds of the universe bring all kinds of things: blossoms, seeds, as well as fallen leaves and dust. Internal strife doesn’t come because the wind carries dead leaves—it comes when you cling tightly to every withered leaf, spending your time sorting, complaining, and analyzing why it fell and how it shouldn’t have appeared. You forget that the nature of a garden is space, and you are the gardener, with the final say in whether to keep the fragrance of flowers or let clutter pile up.
We cannot choose our circumstances, but we can always choose the inner narrative with which we respond to them. That criticism from a colleague is a gust of wind—you can let it pass, or let it nest in your heart, replaying day and night. That unmet goal is a fact—you can review it, learn, and let go, or turn it into long-term evidence accusing yourself of “not being good enough.”
Internal strife is when you lease your precious inner space permanently to unwelcome “visitors.”
Practicing Mental Decluttering: Keep What Nourishes, Release What Drains
1. Distinguish “facts” from “my interpretation of the facts”
· Fact: “My supervisor returned the proposal I worked on all week.”
· Internal-strife interpretation: “My supervisor doesn’t trust me; there must be something wrong with my abilities; maybe another colleague could have done much better…”
· The choice to stop internal strife: Acknowledge disappointment (allow emotions to flow), recognize that “revisions” are part of the job (return to facts), and direct your thoughts toward “how to improve the proposal concretely” (action-oriented). Don’t let it balloon into a negation of your self-worth.
2. Set up “filters” and “expiration dates” for your mind
· Filters: When emotions arise, gently ask yourself: “Is this thought/feeling nourishing me or draining me?” “Is it helping me move forward or trapping me in place?”
· Expiration dates: Give negative emotions a specific time limit. For example: “I allow myself to feel sad about this setback for one evening—to truly feel the disappointment. When the sun rises tomorrow, I will put it away and move forward with the lessons learned.” Don’t suppress excessively, but don’t indulge endlessly either.
Nourishing Empty Space: Let Peace Grow Naturally
As you begin to clear the clutter accumulated in your heart, the freed space will naturally fill with peace.
This isn’t forced happiness but a deep sense of “allowing”: allowing the impermanence of life, allowing others to be as they are, allowing yourself not to be perfect. You no longer need to cling to everything for a sense of security because you’ve found a steadier anchor than external validation—your autonomy over your inner environment.
You’ll discover that when you stop the war within, the external challenges don’t lessen, but they can no longer easily steal your energy and peace. You’ll still strive, but without anxiety; you’ll still care, but without attachment. You become like a tree with deep roots—swaying in the storm, yet knowing what belongs to the wind and what belongs to the soil where you’re grounded.
You cannot decide whether the rain will fall, but you can choose to build a garden with a shelter.
Let only the views worthy of your soul—the ones that nourish you—linger here.
What you choose to keep shapes who you become.