It was a Tuesday, I think. One of those days where I was pushing through but not quite present. A little overtired. A little overstimulated. Too many back-to-back meetings, not enough stillness or space. My nervous system was buzzing—tight jaw, shallow breathing, that low-level hum of tension I used to miss entirely.

That’s when a friend sent me the post.

Bold headline. Emotionally charged. Just enough outrage to grab hold of me. I clicked. I read. My heart raced. My body responded.

And for a moment—I believed it.

Not because I hadn’t learned how to be discerning. Not because I didn’t care about truth. But because in that moment, my system was vulnerable. And my brain latched onto something carefully crafted to escalate—not just my thoughts, but my nervous system too.

That’s what really landed for me—not the post itself (it wasn’t even true, as I later confirmed through multiple trusted sources), but the feeling of being hooked. Of being pulled into a narrative designed to provoke, manipulate, divide.

What saved me was the pause.

The pause that Self-Reg has taught me—over and over again.

I’ve spent years now learning to recognize my own stress responses, tuning into my energy and tension levels, asking the right questions when something feels off. And for that, I owe a lot to Stuart Shanker. His work, his way of reframing, helped me not only understand others with more compassion, but come home to myself. He taught me that it’s not about judgment—it’s about awareness.

And that awareness changed everything.

In this decade of my life—my 50s—I feel more grounded in that awareness than ever before. I’ve learned to notice when something is hijacking my attention or emotions. I’ve learned to ask: Why? And why now? That’s one of Stuart’s favourite questions—and one that echoes in my mind more than ever these days.

If the answer is, I just want to check the news of the day, that’s fine. I still do. I want to stay informed and awake. But if I’m scrolling mindlessly, if I can’t quite remember why I picked up my phone or opened that app, then I know I’ve crossed a threshold.

I’m not thinking clearly anymore. I’m not even really there.

And that’s when I need to stop. To move. To breathe. To talk to someone. To have a real meal. To look at the sky. To restore.

Because this is how disinformation spreads. Not through a lack of intelligence or effort. But through states of high tension and low energy—what Stuart helped me see so clearly through the lens of the Thayer matrix. And when we’re bottomed out like that, it’s not just our energy we lose—it’s our access to the higher brain functions that let us reflect. Stuart taught me that our subcortical survival brain circuits are easily activated in these states. And once those circuits take over, it’s so much harder to discern, to pause, to choose.

I’ve also become more intentional with my digital space. I unfollow, unfriend, block—whatever it takes to remove voices that feel toxic to my spirit. Not because I’m avoiding discomfort, but because I’m choosing clarity. I’m choosing peace. I’m choosing to stay in relationship with what matters most—my values, my well-being, my ability to think and feel and engage with care.

Self-Reg isn’t just something I teach. It’s something I live.

Because regulation isn’t only about helping kids calm down, or navigating conflict with grace (though it helps with both). It’s about how I participate in the world. How I show up in conversation, in community, and even online.

I’ve come to see that regulation is a civic skill.

If I want to be a thoughtful, responsible, wholehearted member of this world—I have to begin with me.

So the next time something grabs you—a headline, a post, a reel that hits a nerve—pause.

Ask yourself: Why? And why now?

And if the answer tells you that you’re tired, or tense, or just not quite okay—that’s not a flaw.

That’s information.

That’s your cue to restore.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the most important truth of all.