Kelly Barron

Mindfulness in schools, at work & everywhere

Postage Stamp Perspective

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The other night I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept fixating on a work project and how long it was taking to figure it out and finish it.

I was stuck in what I call “postage stamp perspective.”

It’s like sitting at a table with a magnifying glass, inspecting a postage stamp, focusing on minute details while ignoring everything else within and around us – the sights, sounds, sensations, and other perspectives on the problem we’re facing.

Why We Get Stuck

When we’re stressed, our nervous system naturally narrows our attention to focus on the problem.

In psychology, this is called cognitive tunneling. Traffic engineers also encounter this when they optimize individual intersections perfectly but create gridlock across the system. They’ve solved the local problem while missing the bigger impact on traffic flow.

This narrowing is automatic and protective, but when we’re fixated, we often lose access to the broader context and inner wisdom we need to make good decisions, find solutions to problems, or simply see things differently.

As Einstein said, “A problem cannot be solved with the same consciousness that created it.”

How to Step Back

So how do we counter the postage-stamp perspective?

First, recognize you’re stuck. If all you can focus on or talk about is the problem without making progress, you’re in a postage-stamp perspective. Other hallmarks: tension, agitation, anxiety, confusion, and rumination.

Acknowledging and even accepting that your mind is working overtime can help you bring self-compassion to your mental agitation and respond skillfully.

During that restless night, I caught myself. I appreciated that my brain was working so hard to solve this problem – even at 2 am. But I also knew I didn’t yet have the information I needed, nor was I settled enough to find a creative solution.

So instead of wrestling with my thoughts, I let the mental agitation be there while shifting my focus to the space within and around me. I focused on the whole-body feeling of my breath and the vastness of the early-morning silence. The expanse of the ceiling above me helped shift my perspective to something larger than myself and my problem.

This didn’t give me an answer, but it loosened my mental grip and gave me space to sit with uncertainty until clarity came.

Four Ways to Zoom Out

Next time you’re stuck in a postage-stamp perspective, try these mindfulness-based practices to find some mental space:

Notice the whole breath: Instead of narrowly focusing on the breath, widen the lens of your attention to feel the whole wave of the breath rising and falling through the core of your body – the belly, the rib basket, the chest.

Broaden your view: Look out a window or up at the sky. Remind yourself that you and your problem aren’t the only things happening. Soften your gaze, taking in the periphery for 30 seconds or more.

Expand your listening: When we’re lost in thought, we tune out sounds around us. Instead, let your attention open to the entire soundscape – the hum of the refrigerator, distant traffic, the silence between sounds.

Connect with others: A conversation that doesn’t focus on your problem naturally draws attention away from yourself and soothes your nervous system. Listen mindfully to whomever you’re with – giving them your full attention.

On My Mind

Cleaning out my closet the other day, I came across some old diaries.

Taped to the opening page of one was this quote from a Yogi tea bag label.

“The difference between a weed and a flower is a judgment.”

The truth of it made me sit on the edge of my bed and reflect on how our perceptions shape our experience.

Mindfulness helps us see things more clearly and even shift our perspective to consider what else might be true.

What would change for you today if you saw a weed as a flower?”

Triumphs and Failures

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Sports are a metaphor for life, and few life lessons play out more dramatically than on the Olympic stage.

At this year’s winter games, which ended Sunday, there were memorable triumphs and failures for U.S. athletes.

But more than winning or losing, what’s inspired me is the presence, grace, and accountability the athletes displayed, regardless of their performances.

Presence over Performance

Figure skater Alysa Liu became the first woman to win a gold medal for the U.S. in 24 years.

But winning wasn’t her aim. Before her exuberant free skate, Liu told USA Today:
“A medal? I don’t need a medal. I just need to be here, and I just need to be present…”

Liu remarkably said she doesn’t feel Olympic pressure; she just “lets it all in.”

Whenever I feel overcome with self-doubt or too obsessed with results, I’ll remember Liu’s words and repeat them to myself like mental mantras.

What makes Liu’s Olympic performance even more inspiring is that she left the sport for two years because of mental burnout, only re-entering it, according to the Guardian, after reclaiming something simple: Her love for moving her body.

Need I remind you that Liu is just 20 years old?

Her abundant wisdom is a reminder of what we often forget when pursuing something that matters to us: to find joy in the doing.

The joy you discover needn’t be bold. It can be as unassuming as the pleasure of having a few quiet minutes to yourself when you meditate, or the subtle satisfaction you feel after tidying up the kitchen before going to bed.

The Grace of Honest Failure

Olympic athletes also showed us how to handle the devastation of defeat with grace and honesty.

Lindsey Vonn, who, a week before the Olympics, tore a ligament in her knee but competed anyway, crashed just 13 seconds after leaving the gate, fracturing her leg. Writing on Instagram from her hospital bed, she encouraged others not to feel sorry for her but to take strength from her example.

Vonn, who is 41 years old, is another comeback queen – a model of determination and grit, but also of acceptance when whatever you’ve been so desperately wanting to happen doesn’t happen at all.

And then there’s Ilia Malinin, a generational figure skating talent who is so self-assured he named himself the “Quad God” for his ability to perform flawless quad jumps.

Rather than win a much-anticipated gold medal, Malinin fell twice in a disastrous free skate.

Moments after turning in one of his worst performances, Malinin acknowledged his mistakes were mental, saying simply, “I’m still trying to process what happened.”

No deflection. No blame. Just honesty.

Inviting it all in with Mindfulness

I can’t vouch for whether these athletes practice mindfulness, but they displayed qualities mindfulness helps us cultivate.

Mindfulness allows us to invite in the whole of our experience – the disappointment, confusion, and joy – and to relate to it all with steadiness and self-compassion. And while it’s a cliché, being mindful truly does help us stay more focused on the present – keeping us from anxiously anticipating the future or endlessly rehashing the past.

All of this takes practice. Olympic athletes train for hours a day, seven days a week, for years to hone their physical and mental skills.

The good news for all of us is that we don’t need to train like Olympic athletes to emulate them. Even just 10 minutes of mindfulness a day can help us:

  • Stay present with what’s happening and let go of the results.
  • Acknowledge failure with self-compassion and honesty.
  • And find fulfillment in the process of mastering a skill, performing, or simply doing a task at hand.

None of this will win us a gold medal.

But it will certainly make us feel more fulfilled and even joyful.

On My Mind

Sometimes a well-framed question can jolt you out of autopilot and reconnect you with what matters most.

Lately, I’ve found the following question from Greg McKeown, the author of Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less, profoundly helpful in doing just that.

Ask yourself the following question with curiosity and honesty, then make space for whatever bubbles up.

What’s one essential thing I’m underinvesting in? 

When I asked myself that question recently, the answer was exercising, which I’d been leaving until the end of the day, and approaching with as much dread as cleaning the cat’s litter box. (Despite what I’ve written above, it’s very hard to find joy in cleaning up cat poop.)

So, I’ve reprioritized my time by exercising first thing in the morning. I feel more energetic as a result, and my mood has improved, too. Another bonus: I’ve started to enjoy working out again.

 

Mindfulness Coaching

The right support can make all the difference — especially during periods of stress, change, or illness. Mindfulness develops skills and resources for focus, resilience, and well-being.

If you’re looking for one-on-one mindfulness coaching rooted in compassion and real-world experience, learn more about mindfulness coaching at www.kellybarron.com or get in touch with me at kelly@kellybarron.com

 

Setting Goals Without Self-Aggression

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Decades ago, when I was an overachiever—I’m a recovering one now—I viewed the New Year as a time to course-correct.

I’d spend days reflecting and journaling about the previous year. Then, I’d create ambitious goals for the new one—not just in one area of my life, but across all domains: relationships, work, parenting, and physical health.

My mindfulness practice, though, taught me that in many ways this approach was a form of self-aggression.

It came from a desire to fix what I felt was wrong with me and handed me a harsh ruler to measure myself against for the rest of the year.

A Kinder, More Effective Approach

Over time, I’ve learned gentler, yet equally effective ways to move toward my deepest wishes for myself and my life.

Key to it all is an attitudinal shift toward a more exploratory approach. As Jonathan Fields shares in the Good Life Project podcast, thinking of goals as directions rather than dictates and as experiments rather than edicts immediately helps me relax into the process of change and growth.

Instead of rigidly adhering to an inflexible goal, I’ve learned to adapt and review my priorities based on what’s happening in my life and on my evolving needs.

I’ve long had goals for exercise, including strength training, cardio workouts, and stretching. But when I was going through cancer treatment, those goals were impossible to keep. And yet, keeping small commitments to myself – going for an easy walk, doing a single, bodyweight squat- was still helpful and meaningful, which leads me to another insight.

The Power of Intentions

And that is that the word goal can create a binary trap.

We either reach a goal, or we don’t – setting ourselves up for a persistent feeling of success or failure. Instead of having brittle goals, I’ve discovered the power of intentions.

Intentions act as an internal compass. Rather than fixating on outcomes, they continually guide me toward what matters most.

Author James Clear shares a now well-known aviation analogy in Atomic Habits to illustrate this idea: tiny shifts in an airplane’s autopilot can send it to an entirely different destination. Small directional changes, sustained over time, can radically alter where we land.

Intentions hold the same power—especially when they’re rooted in our values and paired with concrete, actionable behaviors.

Using Implementation Intentions

Research shows, for example, that intentions—specifically, implementation intentions—often determine whether a “goal” is achieved.

An implementation intention is simply an “if–then” plan:

If this situation arises, then I’ll take this specific action that aligns with my intention.

Psychologist Peter Gollwitzer’s research found that people who form simple if–then plans are dramatically more likely to follow through—not because they try harder, but because they remove decision fatigue in the moment.

One of my overarching aims is to be a loving, supportive parent and spouse. Rather than holding that as a vague aspiration, or a goal that I can never measure up to, I’ve created a simple implementation intention:

If I see my daughter or husband in the morning, then I’ll give them a deep, connected, mindful hug—and tell them I love them.

That’s it.

I’m continually amazed by how much that small “if–then” action shapes the tone of my interactions with my family for the rest of the day. It reliably brings me back to what matters most and shapes my behavior in a beneficial way.

What Intention Feels Most Alive for You?

As you look toward the year ahead, what do you most wish for yourself? More patience? Less stress? Or something practical and evergreen for your health, like eating more vegetables?

Get curious about a quality or habit you might want to adopt or change. Then get creative about how it might translate into a simple, intentional if–then plan.

If patience is your intention, maybe every time you wait in line, you take three slow, steady breaths. If healthier eating is your aim, maybe you’ll add one extra vegetable to your plate at dinner.

If you want to stop interrupting your spouse (and this has nothing to do with me, by the way), maybe every time he talks, you’ll wait until he’s finished speaking – and pause for a few moments – before responding.

The possibilities are often kinder than we expect – and endless.

After all, it’s still January.

On My Mind

In keeping with the theme of setting off into a New Year, I’ve been sitting with these words from the poet John O’Donohue:

“Often, when something is ending, we discover within it the spore of a new beginning, and a whole new train of possibilities is in motion before we even realize it. When the heart is ready for a fresh beginning, unforeseen things can emerge. And in a sense, this is exactly what a beginning does. It is an opening for surprises. Surrounding the intention and the act of beginning, there are always exciting possibilities.”

The Gift of Good Enough

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The other day, a friend of mine sheepishly shared a sub-par parenting moment, confessing that she lost it with her son when he wouldn’t stop playing his video game.

As a mother who’s done the same, I understood her reflective shame.

But I also know the bind perfectionism puts us in – whether it’s with parenting, work or any other part of our lives. And the phrase “good enough” immediately came to mind.

Having a Good Enough Philosophy

In the 1950s, British pediatrician Donald Winnicott coined the phrase “good enough parenting.” Winnicott reasoned that parents didn’t need to be perfect to raise happy, well-adjusted children. They only needed to be good enough. And with that, the good doctor let millions of parents off the hook.

It’s worth applying Winnicott’s wisdom to other facets of our lives – especially as we enter the holiday season, laden with expectations.

  • A good enough work presentation beats perfectionistic paralysis.
  • A 20-minute workout is better than nothing.
  • And a bone-dry turkey at Thanksgiving is better than not having one at all. That’s why gravy exists.

I’m not advocating we let everything go to pot, tolerate bad behavior from others, or stop working toward what truly matters. By all means, let’s keep reasonable standards in place.

The Dangers of Perfectionism

But perfectionism—setting unrealistic standards for yourself or others—creates unnecessary stress that steals joy from even simple tasks: exercising, meditating, cooking, sending an email, hosting dinner.

Research shows that perfectionism is corrosive. It strains relationships and fuels worry, anxiety, dissatisfaction, and procrastination. High standards can not only delay getting things done; they often stop us from even beginning. Fearing we’ll fail or fall short, we don’t risk starting meaningful projects, hobbies, jobs, or relationships.

As author Elizabeth Gilbert has said, perfectionism is the “haute couture version of fear.”

What’s your new 100%?

Having breast cancer forced me to embrace a good enough philosophy. When I was undergoing chemotherapy, my energy disappeared. So, I began to ask myself: “What’s good enough?”

  • Ten minutes of meditation was better than nothing.
  • So was a walk around the block
  • A quick call with a friend lifted my spirits more than not connecting with them at all.

My mindfulness practice continues to soften my all-or-nothing tendencies. It reminds me to meet myself with compassion when I stumble—and that I can still make progress with a good-enough effort.

As Soto Zen monk Shunryu Suzuki once said: “Each of you is perfect the way you are…and you can use a little improvement.”

To turn the gift of good enough into a mindfulness practice, reflect on the following questions:

  1. What’s one area of your life where ‘good enough’ might be better than perfect?
  2. How has perfectionism stolen joy from something you enjoy?
  3. What would change if you asked yourself, ‘What’s my new 100%?’ this week?”

 

On My Mind

 

It’s easy to focus on the reward and outcome of anything we care about — writing a book, going to college, making dinner, or losing weight. But that narrow, future-oriented focus often invites a heap of stress.

Whenever I find myself getting too far out ahead of myself — even when cleaning the house — I return to a soothing process-over-product mindset.

Zadie Smith’s wisdom in her essay Something to Do never fails to snap me out of urgency, self-importance, or striving for the sake of achievement. She writes:

“Why did you bake that banana bread? It was something to do… Out of an expanse of time, you carve a little area — that nobody asked you to carve — and you do something.”

Whether it’s banana bread or finishing this newsletter, approaching the task as simply “something to do” shifts me into the present moment. And the activity becomes its own reward.

I return to the quiet pleasure of merely doing, without the need for accomplishment to validate it.

It’s a mindset worth carrying into the week — and especially the holiday season, when striving can take on a life of its own.

 

Uncertainty Balancers

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When I was a kid, I loved grocery shopping with my dad. Unlike my mom, he was less concerned about budgets or nutrition, so he’d load our cart with chocolate-mint chip ice cream and Hershey bars.

Grocery shopping still feels fun and comforting to me.

That familiar predictability has a name. Authors Nathan Furr and Susannah Harmon Furr, who wrote The Upside of Uncertainty: A Guide to Finding Possibility in the Unknown, refer to what I’ve just shared as an “uncertainty balancer.”

What’s an uncertainty balancer?

Uncertainty balancers are habits, rituals, places, objects, or relationships that help us feel grounded, secure, and even joyful during stressful times.

For some, an uncertainty balancer might be:

  • Petting their cat.
  • A weekly walk with a friend.
  • Re-watching episodes of Friends.
  • Wearing a favorite ring or sweater.
  • Meditating, making their bed, or exercising daily.

One of my mindfulness students found driving by her childhood home comforting. Another discovered vacationing in the same place every year created welcome ease.

Given the current political, cultural, and environmental tumult, knowing what helps us feel more grounded seems not only helpful but urgent.

The truth, however, is that uncertainty is a constant in our lives, and learning how to work with it is a lifelong skill. As mindfulness teacher Joseph Goldstein reminds us: “Anything can happen at any time.”

Those words took on profound meaning for me three years ago when I was diagnosed with breast cancer – an uncertainty I never fathomed. Cancer compelled me to work with the unknown intentionally.

My Biggest Uncertainty Balancer

One of the biggest uncertainty balancers I rely upon is my mindfulness practice, which helps me stay focused, clear, and rooted in the present moment.

Simply pausing to take a full breath, hear a crow squawk, or watch the wind rustle through the trees when my mind is filled with “what ifs” about the future seems miraculous at times.

Mindfully connecting to my senses reminds me I am here now, and in this moment, all is well; and if it isn’t, I can work with it.

I can also go to the grocery store to comfort myself.

Finding Your Uncertainty Balancers

To help you find your uncertainty balancers and explore how you can use them, reflect on the following questions:

1. What in your life or experience remains relatively unchanging?

2. Are there relationships, routines, places, or objects that reliably bring you comfort?

3. What routines or wholesome habits might you adopt to create more familiarity in your daily life?

4. If you’re going through a particularly uncertain or difficult time, when and how could you use your uncertainty balancer to create greater stability?

A Little Bit Of Good

“Phones aren’t bad. They just don’t belong in all social spaces.”

That quote is from Sean Killingsworth, a 22-year-old University of Central Florida student and founder of Reconnect, an organization that helps young people socialize in device-free spaces.

Killingsworth began Reconnect as a way to hang out with his friends and counter the grief and the social isolation we all feel at times when we pay more attention to our devices than each other. He didn’t want anyone to feel shamed or excluded for being on their phone. He just wanted to create alternative environments where people could come together for connection and presence.

Reconnect events include conversation picnics in the park, art jams to talk and paint, group hikes, and other events that encourage connection without devices.

You can learn more about Reconnect by listening to Killingsworth share his heartfelt and hopeful vision below.

Upcoming Classes

I’m teaming up with Cancer Support Community of Los Angeles to offer free weekly mindfulness drop-in classes for cancer patients and caregivers. No prior experience is needed, and all are welcome. I’d love to see you there.