"The Clumsy Guardian: A Letter to the Part of You That Always Protects, Yet Always Messes Up"

Author’s Note: This is a very long article, nearly ten thousand words. It’s more like a prolonged inner exploration than a quick read. I don’t expect you to finish it in one sitting. Perhaps you can save it and read it slowly on a quiet afternoon with a cup of tea. May my words be like a silent companion, accompanying you on a journey to see yourself, understand yourself, and ultimately, gently reconcile with yourself.

Prologue: Have You Ever Been Stuck by “Yourself”?

I imagine you’ve had moments like these.

It might happen on a Sunday afternoon, bathed in impossibly good sunlight. You’ve brewed your coffee, its aroma filling the air, your favorite instrumental music playing, your desk immaculately tidy. For weeks, you’ve planned to start that crucial report for your career, or perhaps finish that long-abandoned oil painting you once had such high hopes for. Everything is ready, the wind is at your back, but you just can’t bring yourself to start.

Your body feels as if it’s filled with damp sand, too heavy to move. Your brain is like a noisy marketplace, countless voices screaming simultaneously: “Just five more minutes on your phone.” “I can’t do it, I’ll definitely mess up.” “The weather’s so nice, it’d be a waste not to go out.” “I’m so tired, I need rest.”… And so, those precious five minutes, in endless self-struggle and internal friction, silently turn into an entire afternoon of nothingness. Finally, the lingering glow of the sunset falls upon your blank document or canvas, and upon your face, which is etched with self-loathing.

Or perhaps, it happens at a lively party. Glasses clink, laughter rings out, everyone seems effortlessly at ease. You’re smiling, but you know it’s just a mask. You yearn for connection, to be able to naturally strike up a conversation like others, tell an interesting anecdote, truly blend into this ocean of joy. But the words die on your lips, turning into a stiff, polite smile. You feel like an astronaut, encased in an invisible glass dome, everything outside sounding muffled and distant. While screaming deep inside, “Look at me, talk to me,” you also use all your strength to firmly pin yourself to the shadows in a corner, praying no one notices your awkwardness and discomfort.

Or, it happens in your most intimate relationships. Maybe it’s just because your partner came home today with a little less smile on their face; maybe it’s just because they used a period instead of your usual tilde when texting you back. These trivial details, however, act like a spark, instantly igniting the dry tinder already piled high within you. All your insecurities, fears, and premonitions of abandonment erupt in an instant, turning into the most hurtful words, into cold silence, into a war you know is meaningless. When the smoke clears, looking at the other person’s hurt eyes, you are filled with regret, yet powerless to explain—was that out-of-control, prickly person really you?

In these countless moments of being stuck by “yourself,” what we most often do is point the finger at ourselves. We exhaust every harsh word in our vocabulary to attack that uncooperative “me”: “Why am I so lazy, so procrastinating?” “Why am I always so sensitive, making a big deal out of nothing?” “I’m such a hopeless social failure.” “I’m just a terrible person, undeserving of love.”

We feel as if an enemy, a sinister saboteur, lives within our body. It drains our strength when we need it most, builds high walls when we crave warmth most, and hands us knives when we most want to express love. We wrestle with it, trying to control it, eliminate it, only to find that the more we struggle, the deeper we sink.

This protracted internal war leaves us utterly exhausted.

But what if, today, I invite you to press the pause button on this war? Together, let’s look at this so-called “enemy” from a different perspective.

What if it’s not an enemy? What if it’s just a clumsy bodyguard who loves you so much it doesn’t know what to do, and is so loyal it’s a bit foolish?

Chapter One: Decoding Your Loyal Yet Foolish “Bodyguard”

1.1 The Birth of the “Bodyguard”: A Moment of Shame

Let’s start with a story.

The protagonist is Xiao Xi, a quiet, introverted seven-year-old girl. Xiao Xi wasn’t much of a talker, but she had a secret, vibrant world—her paintbrushes. In her paintings, she could make the sky orange, give a kitten wings, and draw herself as an omnipotent princess. Painting was her way of communicating with the world, her most precious self, carefully offered up.

One afternoon, she completed what she considered a “masterpiece.” The painting showed her dad, mom, and herself, holding hands, standing on a rainbow bridge, everyone with big, slightly silly smiles. She had used all the brightest colors; the joy almost overflowed from the paper.

Clutching the painting, like a huge secret, her heart pounding, she ran to the living room and, full of anticipation, handed it to her parents who were watching TV. “Dad, Mom, look!”

Her parents shifted their gaze from the TV screen, took the painting, and glanced at it. Perhaps they were too tired from work, or in a bad mood, but Dad just gave a perfunctory “Hmm,” saying, “That’s nice, now go do your homework.” Mom was more “pragmatic,” frowning and saying, “What’s the use of drawing these? Look, you’ve got paint all over the wall. Wouldn’t it be better to spend this time learning more characters?”

The air, in that instant, froze.

The light on Xiao Xi’s face visibly dimmed, inch by inch. She felt a cold, prickly tide rush from her feet instantly to her throat. It wasn’t anger, nor sadness, but a deeper, more ineffable feeling—shame.

In that moment, she felt that the most precious, most authentic part of herself that she had offered up was useless, wrong, and would cause trouble for others. Her proudest creation was worthless in the eyes of the people she loved most.

It was in this moment filled with shame that the “earthquake” in her inner world occurred. Her subconscious system, to ensure that its little master would never, ever again experience the devastating pain of “core self-negation,” gave birth to a “bodyguard.”

This bodyguard’s inaugural declaration was etched deep into Xiao Xi’s subconscious: “Alert! Alert! The act of ‘creating and showing’ is extremely dangerous! It will invite denial and humiliation from the closest people! My mission, is to stop the master from engaging in this dangerous behavior, at all costs!”

This bodyguard, from then on, began his loyal yet foolish duty.

1.2 The Bodyguard’s Two Weapons (Part I): The Overreaction Mode

This newly appointed bodyguard has a simple and crude modus operandi. Like a retired veteran, it blacklists all elements similar to the “crime scene.” Its first weapon is a wide-ranging, highly sensitive “air raid alarm system.”

Years later, the grown-up Xiao Xi, sits in a bright, clean office, facing the scenario we mentioned in the prologue—a blank report that requires her creativity. She wants to start, but she just can’t. She feels that inexplicable anxiety, irritation, and heavy feeling, which is actually her internal “alarm system” blaring wildly.

Her bodyguard, that veteran who took up his post at age seven, simply cannot distinguish between “painting a picture” and “writing a report.” In its logic, both fall under the high-risk behavior of “creating and showing.” It detected “danger” and immediately activated its emergency protocol.

It screams inside Xiao Xi: “Danger! Danger! You’re about to create! You’re going to be judged again! You’re going to experience that ‘worthless’ feeling again! Stop it! Do something else! Scroll on your phone! Clean up! Zone out! Do anything, just don’t touch that damn document!”

This “overreaction” can generalize to all aspects of life.

For example, a boy named Ah Jun, he grew up in a family where his parents argued about money all day. His childhood memories were always accompanied by the sound of things breaking, harsh words of mutual accusation, and the humiliation of not being able to afford tuition. His bodyguard programmed him with: “Money = conflict + pain + shame.”

As an adult, Ah Jun became “allergic” to money. He never asked his boss for a raise, even though his performance far exceeded colleagues, because “talking about money” made his heart race and caused extreme discomfort. He never managed his finances, thinking it was something only “vulgar” people did, and got a headache whenever he saw financial products. When friends asked him for money, he was clearly in a difficult position but didn’t dare refuse for fear of causing “conflict.” His bodyguard, in a destructive way, was “protecting” him from the money-related pain of his childhood.

1.3 The Bodyguard’s Two Weapons (Part II): The Function Shutdown Mode

If “overreaction” is the bodyguard screaming loudly when you try to approach a “dangerous area,” then its second weapon is more insidious and more fundamentally crippling—it directly cuts off the power to that area.

When the alarm has sounded too many times, or a single injury was too immense, the bodyguard decides that warnings alone are no longer effective. The safest method is to make that function disappear entirely.

Let’s return to Xiao Xi’s story. As an adult, Xiao Xi not only procrastinated at work, but she also gradually realized that she seemed to have lost her passion for painting. Occasionally, she would pick up a brush, but her mind would be blank, and she could no longer find that vibrant, colorful feeling she had at seven. She attributed this to “losing inspiration as I grew up.”

But the truth might be that her bodyguard, after years of “sounding alarms,” finally made a decision: “Since ‘creating’ this function always causes trouble, let’s just turn it off.” So, quietly, it cut the cable to Xiao Xi’s “creativity center.” Xiao Xi hadn’t lost her creativity; she had simply lost the “connection” to it.

This tragedy of “function shutdown” is even more common in emotional relationships.

Imagine a girl named Lisa, who once deeply loved someone and gave her all without reservation, only to suffer cruel betrayal. The feeling of her heart being torn apart, the despair of trust collapsing, led her bodyguard to conclude: “Intimate relationships = devastating pain.”

To protect Lisa, the bodyguard activated the “emotional power cut” program. From then on, Lisa became a woman who appeared “cool” and “independent.” She no longer fell for people easily; facing the enthusiasm of suitors, her heart remained unmoved. She told herself and her friends, “I enjoy being single; love is too much trouble.”

But late at night, a vast, unspeakable emptiness would engulf her. She yearned to love and be loved, but her “heart-fluttering” function had been forcibly shut down by her bodyguard. She was perfectly protected, at the cost of living in a safe, yet cold and lonely castle.

1.4 Summary: The “Veteran” We Cannot Fire

Now, we have a clearer picture of this “bodyguard.”

It is incredibly loyal. All its actions, no matter how destructive they seem, are driven by the original motive of protecting us from pain. It is a diligent sentinel, never off duty.

But it is also incredibly foolish (or primitive). Its intelligence level is forever stuck at the moment the trauma occurred. It doesn’t learn, doesn’t adapt, and cannot understand the complexity and changes of the world. It only judges friend or foe in the simplest, most binary way.

Most crucially, it lives in the past. It cannot distinguish that the teacher who shamed you years ago and the boss who appreciates you today are two completely different people. In its eyes, as long as the situation has similarities, the threat level is always at its highest.

Understanding these three points leads us to a core truth: we cannot, and should not, try to “eliminate” or “fire” this bodyguard. Because it is part of our survival instinct, the embodiment of the wounded child within us. To be at war with it is to be at war with ourselves.

So, where is the way out?

Since we cannot fire this loyal but rigid veteran, the only thing we can do is, as its now wiser, more mature “partner,” retrain it, update its operational guidelines, and make it understand that the dangers of the past are long gone.

Chapter Two: Facing the Messy Reality – My Inner World is a Wreck

2.1 The Necessity of Acknowledging Pain: This Is Not a Feel-Good Story

Hearing this, you might breathe a sigh of relief. This “clumsy bodyguard” story, like a warm light, shines into the dark, self-doubting corners of your mind. It offers you a new, compassionate perspective to understand your “abnormal” behaviors.

But please, wait a moment.

Perhaps another voice inside you, a more honest, sharper one, is sneering: “Oh, come on, don’t feed me these comfortable-sounding self-help fluff. My feeling is not at all that there’s a loyal bodyguard orderly executing protection protocols. My feeling is that my inner world is a complete, chaotic disaster zone!”

This metaphor, though cruel, is so precise.

Yes, let’s temporarily set aside that warm story and face this real, messy sensation. What kind of ruin is it?

It’s a scene of a violent explosion at 3 AM due to a gas leak. Charred debris and sharp fragments are everywhere. The chandelier hangs precariously from the ceiling, wires short-circuiting, sparking dangerously in the dark. Pipes have burst, dirty water floods the floor, mixed with broken sauces and unknown viscous substances. The air is filled with a pungent, nauseating smell of burnt residue.

You stand barefoot in this mess, feeling chilling cold, boundless darkness, and suffocating breathlessness. There is no logic, no order, only pure, overwhelming chaos and trauma. Your body disobeys you, sometimes jumping at the slightest sound (overreaction), sometimes ignoring the mess on the floor, feeling like a soulless shell (shutdown). These two states might even alternate wildly, making you feel like you’re about to completely lose your mind.

In such a situation, if someone stands at the entrance of the ruin, smilingly telling you, “Don’t be afraid, this is just your inner defense mechanism, a clumsy protective measure to prevent greater harm.” Wouldn’t you want to throw the only unbroken plate you can find at them?

Yes, we must first admit that the experience of trauma is often not orderly, but chaotic; not logical, but irrational; not warm, but chillingly cold. The “bodyguard” story, if misused, can easily become a “beautification” and “rationalization” of pain, making us ignore the unbearable reality of the ruin itself.

We must first allow ourselves, without reservation or judgment, to admit: “Yes, my inner world has become a ruin. It’s a mess here, very dangerous, and it causes me great pain. I feel broken, like I’m about to give up.”

Only when we fully and non-judgmentally stay with this true feeling of chaos and pain can we truly begin the next step. Otherwise, any attempt to skip this step of “healing” is merely laying a beautiful carpet over the ruin, beneath which the structure remains precarious and danger could erupt again at any moment.

2.2 The True Value of the “Bodyguard” Story: Candle and Gloves

So, since reality is so harsh, why do we still introduce that seemingly “naive” bodyguard story?

Because its value is definitely not to gloss over the truth, much less to deny the painful reality that you are in an “inner ruin.”

Its role is more like this: when you are in that pitch-black ruin, overwhelmed by fear and despair, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the ground and not move, or even starting to hurt yourself with fragments, someone from outside carefully hands you a candle and a pair of thick gloves.

The candle’s light, though faint, is enough to let you see the fragments at your feet, preventing you from being cut all over. It allows you to gain a little bit of “control” and “direction” from the pitch-black fear dominated by the unknown.

The gloves, while not making the ruin disappear, give you a little courage to reach out and touch, to move the first cold, blocking brick.

The “bodyguard” story is this candle and these gloves. It’s not to tell you the kitchen wasn’t blown up, but to offer you the first, and most important, tool when you’re standing in the ruin, swallowed by immense self-hatred and powerlessness—permission to stop self-attack.

It gives you the opportunity to shift that critical inner voice from “How could I be so useless, making such a mess of everything!” to a slightly more neutral, curious observation: “Okay, there’s clearly been a big explosion here. My internal alarm system seems to have a significant problem. Let’s see what exactly went wrong?”

This tiny shift in perspective is the starting point for all healing. It transforms you from a helpless, self-harming victim in the ruin into a survivor ready to survey the scene and clear the debris.

So, please remember, acknowledging the pain of my inner “wreck” and understanding the story of “the clumsy bodyguard” are not mutually exclusive. The former respects your true feelings; the latter provides you with the first strength to move out of your predicament. We must first light the candle and put on the gloves before we can begin the cleanup.

2.3 Beware of “Sophisticated Excuses”: When the Bodyguard Becomes a New Cage

However, like any powerful tool, the “bodyguard” model, if misused, can also bring new, more subtle dangers.

When we become too immersed in this story, it can transform from a tool that liberates us into a more refined cage that imprisons us. It can become a “sophisticated excuse.”

Imagine such a scenario:

• A friend invites you to try a new challenge, and you habitually shrink back. You no longer tell yourself, “I’m scared, I can’t,” but instead say, in a seemingly deeper, unassailable tone: “My internal protection mechanism was triggered, my ‘bodyguard’ thinks it’s too dangerous, and I need to respect its feelings.”
• In an intimate relationship, you push your partner away out of fear. You no longer reflect on your actions, but instead tell them: “The reason I can’t open up to you is because my childhood trauma caused my internal ‘guardian’ to shut down my heart-fluttering function; it’s protecting me.”

Do you see the problem?

This warm story, while offering understanding and self-compassion, can also unintentionally provide a perfect reason to avoid personal responsibility and growth. We subtly transform the challenges of growth into a “trauma response” that needs to be “respected.” We might even begin to develop a pathological identification with our “trauma” and “bodyguard,” as if having a “bodyguard” that needs careful nurturing is something special and cool.

This is what’s called the “romanticization of trauma.” We become overly enchanted by the tragic story of the “loyal guardian,” so much so that we forget that this guardian’s actions are actually, truly ruining our current lives. We get lost in analyzing and understanding its tragic past, losing the urgency and motivation to face the ruin and resolve to rebuild.

How do we distinguish when we are “reconciling” with the bodyguard and when we are “surrendering” to it?

A simple criterion is: Does this perspective make you more free, or more restricted?

If “seeing the bodyguard” gives you the courage to stop self-attack and dare to try new behaviors, then it is a good tool. But if “seeing the bodyguard” makes you content to stay put, finding a perfect excuse for your avoidance and retreat, then the story itself becomes your new cage.

Therefore, on the path to reconciliation ahead, we must always maintain this vigilance. We converse with the bodyguard to ultimately update its system, allowing it to adapt to a new life, not to give it a license to continue messing up our lives with old methods. Our goal is to become a freer, more integrated person, not a “trauma expert” who is better at explaining why they are not free.

Chapter Three: The Long Road to Reconciliation (Part I) – Preparing for Dialogue

Alright, now we’ve acknowledged the mess in the kitchen, understood the bodyguard’s clumsy good intentions, and are wary of potential pitfalls. The most important question now is: what next? How should we act?

We cannot brutally fire this loyal bodyguard (because it is part of your subconscious; you cannot fire yourself), nor can we let it continue to “protect” us in its outdated, disastrous ways.

What we need to do is a long and patient “renegotiation.” We need to sit down, like a wise CEO, with this distinguished but rigid old employee and conduct a thorough, humanized update of its operational manual.

There are no shortcuts on this path, but we can start with some very specific, even “game-like” steps. In this chapter, we’ll do the most important preparatory work: initiating dialogue.

3.1 Step One: Become an “Inner Observer”

This is the first step in all change, and often the most counter-intuitive. When your “bodyguard” jumps out again, “kidnapping” you with anxiety, procrastination, anger, or numbness, our habitual reaction is to fight (“I can’t think about that anymore!”), suppress (“It’s just a small thing, why be afraid!”), or simply identify with it and let it drag us along (“Okay, I’m just useless”).

Now, what we need to practice is becoming a calm “inner observer.”

Imagine you are a wildlife documentary photographer. Your task is not to intervene with the roaring lion, but simply to clearly and objectively record everything about it: its habits, its roar, when and where it appears.

Deepening the Skill: Your “Bodyguard Sighting” Observation Journal

I strongly recommend keeping a dedicated notebook, or creating a folder in your phone’s memo app, titled “Bodyguard Observation Journal.” Whenever you notice yourself getting “stuck” again, try to record it. No need for long essays; the key is to capture the core information:

• Time/Situation of Sighting: “Monday afternoon, when preparing to start the project weekly report.” “Saturday evening, when receiving a party invitation from a friend.”
• Automatic Thoughts (The Bodyguard’s Shouts): “This report will definitely be bad, the boss will scold me.” “The party will definitely be awkward, no one will talk to me.” “I’m too tired, I need rest.”
• Body Sensations (The Bodyguard’s Weapons): “Tightness in my chest, like a stone pressing down.” “A sharp pain in my stomach.” “My throat feels tight, like I can’t speak.” “My whole body feels numb, empty.”
• Your Behavior: “Started frantically scrolling through short videos.” “Immediately replied to the friend saying ‘I’m busy’.” “Lay on the sofa zoning out.”

Keep recording for a week, and you might be surprised to find that your “bodyguard” is actually quite regular. Its appearance times, triggers, and attack methods are not chaotic. This journal, is your first accurate “user profile” for it.

Introducing Body Scan Practice: Listen, Your Body Is Speaking

Our bodyguard, many times, communicates not through “language” but through the “body.” Those inexplicable heart palpitations, chest tightness, stomach pains, and fatigue are all its alarms. We often ignore these signals, or treat them as purely physiological problems.

Now, try spending five minutes each day doing a simple body scan. Find a quiet place to sit or lie down, close your eyes, and slowly scan your body from head to toe, like a gentle spotlight.

• Is your forehead relaxed or tense?
• Is your jaw clenched or loose?
• Are your shoulders hunched up or naturally dropped?
• Is your breath shallow or deep?
• Is your chest expansive or constricted?
• Is your abdomen soft or rigid?

You don’t need to do anything, just “feel.” When you feel discomfort or tension in a certain area, try to gently send your breath to that place. Imagine your breath as warm water, gently enveloping that tense area.

The purpose of this exercise is to re-establish your connection with your body. When the bodyguard next sends a signal through your body, you’ll be quicker to notice: “Oh, my stomach is starting to feel uncomfortable again; looks like my bodyguard is worried about something.”

The “Name It - Thank It - Take Charge” Triad

Once you can observe your thoughts and body sensations, we can begin the core dialogue practice.

1. Name It (See): “Oh, that ‘I’ll definitely mess up’ thought is back again.” “Hmm, ‘social anxiety,’ my old friend, is visiting again.” “I feel that urge to run away spreading through my body.” Simply naming it creates a tiny distance between you and that emotion. You are no longer “anxiety itself,” but “a person observing anxiety.”

2. Thank It (Empathize): This step might sound strange, but it’s incredibly powerful. In your mind, to this active “bodyguard,” say: “Hey, buddy, I see you. Thank you for stepping in, trying to protect me from the harm of (possibly) being judged/rejected/failing. You’re really diligent. I’ve received your warning.” This step expresses empathy. You acknowledge its legitimate existence and its kind intentions, which greatly soothes it.

3. Soothe and Take Charge (Lead): Finally, tell it in a gentle but firm tone: “However, the situation is different now. I’ve grown up, and it’s safe here. This time, I want to try handling it my own way. You can go have some tea and rest for a bit. Leave it to me.” This step is you, as the “commander,” reasserting your sovereignty. You’re not driving it away, but leading it.

This process, might only take thirty seconds. Its sole purpose is to interrupt that “stimulus-automatic reaction” chain. You, through “seeing” and “thanking,” transform your relationship with the bodyguard from a life-or-death “internal war” into a negotiable “internal meeting.”

3.2 Step Two: Become a “Failure Artist”

Your bodyguard has dedicated its life to keeping you from “failing” and “making mistakes.” Its motto is: “Better safe than sorry.” This extreme pursuit of perfection is often the root cause of our procrastination, fear, and inability to start.

So, let’s play a “reverse” game: actively and deliberately, go and “mess up once.”

Deepening the Concept: Perfectionism is the Bodyguard’s Favorite Armor

Perfectionism, sounds like a compliment, but it is often “fear’s” most elaborate disguise. The reason we demand ourselves to “do our best,” is precisely because we, deep down, are extremely afraid of the “not good enough” self. This “not good enough” self, at some point in the past, caused us immense shame and pain.

So, your bodyguard, to keep you away from the danger of “not good enough,” put a heavy armor called “perfectionism” on you. This armor makes your steps heavy, even preventing you from moving, but the bodyguard will tell you: “It’s okay, it’s safe.”

The “allow yourself to mess up” exercise, is about us actively, consciously taking off this armor, even if only for ten minutes. Let our skin, feel the air again, even if this air is a bit cool.

Providing More “Mess-Up Game” Ideas

The core of this exercise, is to dramatically shift your goal, from “doing your best,” to “doing your worst” or “doing it indifferently.”

• Want to write that report, but afraid it won’t be good enough? Okay, now your task is: “In the next 25 minutes, I’m going to do my best to write the most garbage, most nonsensical report draft in the entire universe. I’m going to intentionally use wrong words, intentionally make the logic chaotic, I’m going to make it so bad that even I want to laugh.”

• Want to meet new people, but afraid of awkward silence after speaking? Okay, now your task is: “At the party tonight, I’m going to do an ‘awkward conversation challenge.’ I’m going to actively approach three people, and ask the most boring, most awkward questions in the room, for example, ‘What do you think of the color of this ceiling?’. My goal is to experience awkward silence.”

• Want to learn a new instrument, but afraid of playing badly and being laughed at? Okay, your task is: “In the next 15 minutes, I’m going to play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ in the most terrible way possible. My goal isn’t pitch, but to feel the clumsy, uncertain feeling of my fingers pressing the keys.”

• Want to go to the gym, but afraid of people watching your imperfect form? Okay, your task is: “Today at the gym, I’ll only do one exercise, just use the lightest weight, and do a movement that even I find ridiculous and imperfect. Then I’ll go home.”

Do you see the secret of this game? When you set “messing up” as your goal, your bodyguard is completely stumped. Its alarm system instantly fails, because the fuel it relies on, “fear of failure,” has been drained by you.

And magically, once you start writing, speaking, acting—even with the goal of “messing up”—that severed “action” and “creativity” power supply, is often quietly reconnected by you in a playful way.

Guidance for Post-Exercise Reflection Journal

After completing the “mess-up exercise,” please be sure to take a few minutes to answer some questions in your “Bodyguard Observation Journal”:

1. Did what I feared most (e.g., being ridiculed, criticized) actually happen during the “mess-up”?
2. What actually happened?
3. How did my body feel? Was it more tense, or more relaxed instead?
4. What new information did this “mess-up” experience tell me about “failure”?

You are proving to your bodyguard through action: “Messing up won’t make the sky fall. And, it’s actually quite fun.” This is more powerful than any lecture.

Chapter Four: The Long Road to Reconciliation (Part II) – Updating the Bodyguard’s Old System

If we consider the exercises in Chapter Three as “establishing diplomatic relations” and conducting “preliminary military drills” with the bodyguard, then in Chapter Four, we will enter a more core phase: a thorough update of the bodyguard’s old, problematic operational command system.

This requires more patience and sustained effort, but this is also where real change happens.

4.1 Step Three: Become an “Evidence Collector”

Your bodyguard overreacts because its core database is outdated. It’s filled with decades-old files about “the world is dangerous” and “I’m not good enough.” It constantly reviews these files, and then makes incorrect, disastrous judgments about the current, new reality.

Our task is to become diligent “evidence collectors,” like tireless lawyers, to input new, strong “counter-evidence” into its database that reflects the current reality.

Methodology Upgrade: “Bodyguard Database Update Log”

This exercise requires you to be like a detective, consciously seeking out and recording even the smallest pieces of evidence that “contradict the old files” in your daily life. I suggest upgrading your “Bodyguard Observation Journal” to a “Bodyguard Database Update Log,” including the following columns:

• Old Belief (Bodyguard’s Core Program): First, clearly write down the core program that troubles you and that the bodyguard is executing. For example: “I must be perfect, or I will be abandoned.” “I cannot trust anyone, because they will eventually hurt me.” “I am inherently inferior to others, I don’t deserve good things.”

• Seeking Counter-Evidence (Today’s New Data): With this “old belief” as a filter, examine your day. Deliberately look for, even the smallest pieces of evidence, that contradict this belief.

  • Counter-evidence example 1: Old belief is “I must be perfect.” Today, you had a typo in your PPT, but your boss, in praising your clear ideas, completely didn’t mention it. New data: “Imperfection can still be recognized.”
  • Counter-evidence example 2: Old belief is “I can’t trust people.” Today, you were in a bad mood, complained a bit to a colleague, and they not only listened carefully but also bought you a coffee. New data: “Showing vulnerability to others can also lead to warm responses.”
  • Counter-evidence example 3: Old belief is “I don’t deserve good things.” Today, you just casually participated in a lottery, and you won a small prize. New data: “Sometimes, good luck comes to me for no reason.”

• Establishing New Beliefs (Writing New Programs): Based on this new data, try to write down a new, more realistic, and more constructive belief. For example: “I can strive for excellence, but I also allow myself to make mistakes.” “I can cautiously choose whom to trust, but there are still trustworthy, kind people in the world.” “My value is determined by myself, regardless of what I get or don’t get.”

Write down these new pieces of evidence and new beliefs solemnly. Whenever you feel stuck in old patterns, open this notebook and read them aloud to yourself.

Introducing the Concept of “Neuroplasticity”: Your Brain Is Being Reshaped

This is not just “positive thinking” or “Pollyannaism.” A great discovery in modern neuroscience, called “neuroplasticity,” tells us: our brains, are not fixed, but can be continuously reshaped by experience and learning.

Every time you consciously “seek counter-evidence,” every time you write down a “new belief,” every time you experience a different outcome in action than in the past, you are not doing something useless. You are paving a “new path” in your brain, representing a “new belief,” next to the “old path” that represents “old beliefs” and has become habitual.

Initially, your thought patterns (i.e., traffic flow), will still instinctively rush onto that old highway. But as long as you persistently guide some of that traffic onto the new small path, this path will become wider and wider, and the scenery along the way will get better and better. Over time, this new “country road,” will slowly transform into a new, wider highway leading to better scenery. And that old road leading to pain, will gradually fall into disuse and become overgrown with weeds due to lack of traffic.

So, please believe in the power of your every small effort. You are not playing psychological games; you are performing a rigorous, scientific “brain surgery.”

4.2 Step Four: Holding a “Graduation Ceremony” for the Bodyguard

When we, through the previous exercises, have established communication with the bodyguard, soothed its fears, and updated its database, we can enter a more wonderful stage: integration and transformation.

Our goal, is not for the bodyguard to “disappear,” but to help this loyal but outdated veteran “retire honorably,” and find a more constructive new role. We can hold a respectful “graduation ceremony” for it.

Deepening the Concept: Energy Transformation, Not Elimination

In psychology, every part of our inner self carries a form of energy. The bodyguard that causes you “social anxiety,” it carries the energy, actually, of “heightened vigilance to danger” and “extreme concern for self-image.” The bodyguard that causes you “procrastination,” it carries the energy, is “avoidance of failure” and “pursuit of perfection.”

These energies themselves, are neither good nor bad. Used in the wrong place, they become destructive “symptoms”; used in the right place, they can become our valuable “talents.”

• The bodyguard responsible for your “social anxiety,” after graduation, can be reassigned as your “Chief Intuition Advisor.” Its highly vigilant energy, can be transformed into keen insight, allowing you to quickly perceive the true emotions of your environment and others, helping you identify which people are truly worth building deep connections with.
• The bodyguard responsible for your “procrastination,” after graduation, can be reassigned as your “Project Risk Assessor.” Its pursuit of perfection, can be transformed into a rigorous, detail-oriented work attitude, helping you foresee potential risks in projects, and make more comprehensive plans.
• The bodyguard responsible for your “emotional numbness,” after graduation, can be reassigned as your “Personal Boundary Setting Expert.” Its ability to close off the heart, can be transformed into a healthy power to protect yourself from intrusion, allowing you to know how to clearly and gently refuse in relationships, safeguarding your energy field.

Providing Specific “Transformation Ritual” Exercises

You can, through writing or meditation, complete this inner “graduation ceremony.”

Find an undisturbed time, close your eyes, and imagine you have a round table meeting within yourself. You, as the chairman, sit at the head of the table. You invite the “bodyguard” you most want to reconcile with, to sit opposite you.

1. Sincere Gratitude: First, from the bottom of your heart, thank it for its years of service. “I know that on the day you took office, I was experiencing immense pain. Thank you for stepping up, and protecting me in the only way you knew how at the time. These years, you’ve worked hard.”
2. Declare the End of an Old Era: Gently but firmly tell it: “But, that era has passed. I have grown up, and I have new resources and strength to face this world. Your old way of operating, though well-intentioned, is no longer applicable now.”
3. Grant New Position and Honors: “Therefore, I have decided, to formally announce your honorable retirement from ‘front-line combat duty.’ To recognize your loyalty and capability, I now officially appoint you as my ‘Chief Intuition Advisor’ (or another position you deem suitable). Your new task, is no longer to sound alarms, but to use your keen perception, when needed, to provide me with calm, constructive advice. I believe you are capable of this more important role.”
4. Imagine the Fusion: Finally, imagine the image of this “bodyguard,” slowly relaxing from a tense, hostile soldier, into a wise, steady advisor. He smiles and nods at you, then slowly merges into your body, becoming part of your inner wisdom.

This ritual, though seemingly a bit “woo-woo,” is a powerful psychological suggestion. You are, in a symbolic way that your subconscious can understand, completing a profound inner integration.

4.3 Philosophical Reflection on “Gongfu” and “Enlightenment”

Having discussed all this, we seem to have a fairly complete “bodyguard training manual.” But if you think that by strictly following this manual step-by-step, you will definitely “achieve enlightenment,” then you might fall into a new trap.

In Eastern wisdom traditions, there are two complementary concepts: “Gongfu” (功夫, diligent practice/effort) and “Enlightenment” (顿悟, sudden realization).

All the exercises we’ve discussed so far—observation journals, failure artistry, evidence collection, transformation rituals—are about practicing a kind of “Gongfu.” This is daily refinement, carefully clearing debris and reconnecting utilities for the “ruin” within ourselves. This work is arduous, sometimes even tedious, and requires discipline and patience. It itself cannot directly “produce” healing.

The true, illuminating moments of healing are more like “Enlightenment.” They are like an unexpected spring rain, a dream that opens your mind, or, in an unsuspecting moment, a perfectly timed gentle breeze, a kind word from a stranger. They come unbidden, without logic, and cannot be planned.

“Gongfu” cannot guarantee the arrival of “Enlightenment,” but it prepares us to receive “Enlightenment.”

Without the daily “Gongfu” of clearing the ruins, our inner world would be a hardened, thorny wasteland. When that “Enlightenment” spring rain arrives, the water would simply run off, or even cause a muddy mess. But precisely because of those seemingly clumsy efforts before, when the spring rain arrives, seeds can instantly sprout, and life can miraculously bloom.

Lisa, who closed her heart after being betrayed, perhaps because she practiced countless times of “Gongfu”—learning to see her fears, practicing small, safe connections with friends—was able, when a truly sincere and patient person appeared one day, to seize that moment of “Enlightenment” and bravely open the castle door a crack.

So, please do not be discouraged if you practice for a while and do not see “miracles” happen. Every bit of “Gongfu” you do is not in vain. You are simply quietly, unknowingly loosening the soil, fertilizing, and watering the land within you.

Please believe, you just need to do your “Gongfu,” and then, quietly wait for the flowers to bloom.

Epilogue: The End of Healing Is Not Perfection, But the Wisdom of “Dancing with Cracks”

As I write this, our long inner exploration is drawing to a close. We seem to have a fairly complete “bodyguard training manual.” But please allow me one last time to break another potentially beautiful illusion.

Reconciling with the “clumsy bodyguard” within us, this long road to reconciliation, its end point, is not to train it into a perfectly obedient, flawless intelligent butler. Nor is it to completely restore that “inner ruin” into a spotless, sparkling Michelin three-star restaurant.

If you are expecting a “once and for all,” completely healed, and from then on free of troubles ending, then you might be disappointed again.

The end of healing is perhaps more like a state of greater life wisdom, more grounded. I like to call it—“dancing with cracks.”

This means your bodyguard, may never be “fired.” It merely transforms from a tense, always-ready-to-sound-the-alarm frontline soldier, into a retired veteran who occasionally grumbles a few words in your ear. In most of the time, it has learned to peacefully nap, no longer making a big fuss about everything. But occasionally, in certain specific situations, it will still habitually stand up, clear its throat, and remind you to “be careful.”

And you, too, have learned not to argue with it. You’ll pat its shoulder, and say with a smile, “Got it, old friend, thanks for the reminder.” Then, you continue to do what you need to do.

That “inner ruin,” may also never fully return to its original state. There might always be some smoke stains on the walls, and a crack in the corner of the floor that cannot be repaired. But you are no longer ashamed of it. You have learned to coexist peacefully with this ruin, even though it occasionally leaks, and now and then has electrical glitches. You might even feel that those marks, are part of your life story, a badge of your survival from that explosion, and quite cool.

In Japan, there is an ancient repair art called “Kintsugi.” When a precious piece of pottery breaks, artisans don’t try to hide the cracks. Instead, they meticulously repair and join the fragments with lacquer mixed with gold powder. In the end, those golden lines meander across the object, becoming its most unique and shining parts. The object is reborn through breakage, becoming more beautiful because of its cracks.

This, perhaps, is the most authentic appearance of healing.

We are not meant to eradicate the traces of trauma, but to re-integrate our fragmented selves with the most precious “gold dust” of “seeing,” “acceptance,” and “compassion.” We no longer try to hide our cracks, but allow them to shine with a unique brilliance in the sunlight.

The true sign of healing, is not that you no longer have negative emotions, not that your bodyguard never sounds an alarm again. It’s that when they come again, you no longer need to immediately enter a state of battle. You no longer need to analyze it, fight it, or judge it. You are simply able to, in your heart, make a small space for it, allowing it to stay there for a moment, just like allowing a cloud to drift across your sky. Then, you continue on your path, continue to love those you love, and continue to live your perhaps clumsy, but incredibly authentic life.

You no longer need to explain your complex inner drama to anyone, because you have fully accepted that unique self—the one that always tries to protect you, yet always messes up, the one that is both timid and brave, both broken and whole.

In that moment, you are free.