"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 lengthy 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 quiet companion, accompanying you on a journey to see yourself, understand yourself, and ultimately reconcile gently with yourself.

Prologue: Have You Ever Been ‘Stuck’ by Yourself?

I imagine you’ve had moments like these.

It might happen on a ridiculously sunny Sunday afternoon. You’ve brewed your coffee, its aroma filling the air, your favorite instrumental music plays, and your desk is immaculately tidy. For weeks, you’ve planned to start that crucial report for your career prospects, or perhaps finish that long-abandoned oil painting you once held such high hopes for. Everything is ready, the wind is at your back, but you just can’t bring yourself to pick up the pen.

Your body feels as if it’s filled with damp sand, too heavy to move. Your brain is like a noisy marketplace, with countless voices screaming simultaneously: “Just five more minutes on the phone.” “I can’t do it, I’ll definitely mess it up.” “The weather’s so nice, it’s 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 transform into an entire afternoon of nothingness. Finally, the lingering glow of the sunset illuminates your blank document or canvas, and also your face, etched with self-loathing.

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

Or, it occurs in your most intimate relationship. 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 accustomed 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 utterly meaningless. When the smoke clears, looking at their wounded eyes, you are filled with immense regret, yet powerless to explain—was that out-of-control, prickly person truly you?

In these countless moments of being ‘stuck’ by ourselves, what we most often do is turn the blame inward. We exhaust every harsh word in our vocabulary to attack that unproductive ‘me’: “Why am I so lazy and procrastinating?” “Why am I always so sensitive and overreacting?” “I’m a hopeless social failure.” “I’m just a terrible person, unworthy of love.”

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

This prolonged inner battle leaves us exhausted.

But what if, today, I invited 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 guardian—who loves you so much it doesn’t know what to do, loyal to the point of being a bit foolish?

Chapter One: Unveiling Your Loyal Yet Foolish ‘Guardian’

1.1 The Birth of the ‘Guardian’: A Moment of Shame

Let’s begin with a story.

The protagonist is Xiao Xi, a quiet, introverted seven-year-old girl. Xiao Xi didn’t talk much, but she had a secret, colorful 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.” It depicted her father, mother, and herself, holding hands, standing on a rainbow bridge, with big, slightly silly smiles on everyone’s faces. She had used every bright color, and 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 tired from work, or in a bad mood, but her father merely gave a perfunctory “Mm,” saying, “That’s nice, now go do your homework.” Her mother was more “pragmatic”; she frowned and said, “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, solidified.

The light on Xiao Xi’s face visibly extinguished, inch by inch. She felt a cold, thorny tide surge from her feet to her throat. It wasn’t anger, nor sadness, but a deeper, more inexpressible feeling—shame.

In that moment, she felt that the most precious, truest part of herself she had offered was useless, wrong, and a burden to others. Her proudest creation was worthless in the eyes of those she loved most.

It was in this moment of shame that an ‘earthquake’ occurred in her inner world. Her subconscious system, to ensure that its young master would never, ever again experience the destructive pain of ‘core self-negation,’ summoned a ‘guardian’ into being.

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

From then on, this guardian began its loyal yet foolish duty.

1.2 The Guardian’s Two Weapons (Part One): The Hypersensitivity Mode

This newly appointed guardian operates in a simple, crude manner. Like a retired veteran, it blacklists all elements similar to the “crime scene.” Its first weapon is an “air-raid alarm system” with an extremely wide range and high sensitivity.

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. The inexplicable anxiety, frustration, and heaviness she feels are actually her internal “alarm system” blaring wildly.

Her guardian, the old soldier who took up post at age seven, can’t tell the difference between “drawing a picture” and “writing a report.” In its logic, both fall under the high-risk behavior of “creating and displaying.” It detected “danger,” so it 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! Do something else! Scroll on your phone! Clean the house! Stare into space! Do anything, just don’t touch that damned document!”

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

For example, a boy named A Jie grew up in a family where his parents constantly argued over money. His childhood memories were always accompanied by the sound of things breaking, harsh words of blame, and the humiliation of not being able to afford school fees. His guardian programmed him with: “Money = Conflict + Pain + Shame.”

As an adult, A Jie became “allergic” to money. He never asked his boss for a raise, even though his performance far exceeded his 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 felt a headache coming on whenever he saw financial products. When friends asked him for money, he was clearly in a difficult position but couldn’t refuse for fear of causing “conflict.” His guardian, in a destructive way, was “protecting” him from the childhood pain associated with money.

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

If “hypersensitivity” is the guardian screaming loudly when you try to approach a “danger zone,” then its second weapon is even more covert and more fundamental—directly cutting off the power to that area.

When the alarm has been pulled too many times, or a particular injury was simply too great, the guardian decides that warnings are no longer enough. 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 found that she seemed to have lost her passion for painting. Occasionally, she would pick up a brush, but her mind was blank; she could no longer find the colorful feeling she had at seven. She attributed this to “losing inspiration as I grew up.”

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

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

Imagine a girl named Lisa, who once loved someone deeply, giving herself unreservedly, only to suffer a cruel betrayal. The feeling of her heart being torn apart, the despair of trust collapsing, led her guardian to conclude: “Intimate relationships = Destructive pain.”

To protect Lisa, the guardian initiated an “emotional power-off” program. From then on, Lisa became a woman who seemed “cool” and “independent.” She no longer fell in love 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 in the dead of night, a vast, unspeakable emptiness would consume her. She yearned for love and to be loved, but her “heart-fluttering” function had been forcibly shut down by her guardian. She was perfectly protected, but at the cost of living in a safe, yet cold and solitary castle.

1.4 Summary: The ‘Old Soldier’ We Cannot Dismiss

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

It is immensely loyal. All its actions, no matter how destructive they may seem, are rooted in the primal motivation to protect us from pain. It is a diligent sentinel, never off duty.

But it is also incredibly foolish (or rather, primitive). Its intelligence level is forever stuck at the moment the trauma occurred. It doesn’t learn, doesn’t adapt, and cannot comprehend 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 entirely different people. In its eyes, as long as there’s a similarity in the situation, the threat level remains highest.

Understanding these three points brings us to a core truth: we cannot, and should not, try to ‘eliminate’ or ‘dismiss’ this guardian. For it is a 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 dismiss this loyal but rigid old soldier, the only thing we can do is, as its wiser, more mature ‘partner’ today, retrain it, update its operational guidelines, and make it understand that the dangers of the past are long gone.

Chapter Two: Facing the Chaotic Reality—My Inner World is a Mess

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

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

But please, wait a moment.

Perhaps another voice within you, a more honest, sharper one, is sneering: “Oh, come on, don’t feed me this comfortable self-help fluff. What I feel is not an orderly, protective procedure carried out by a loyal guardian. What I feel is that my inner world is a complete, chaotic disaster zone!”

This metaphor, though cruel, is incredibly precise.

Yes, let’s temporarily set aside that warm story and face this real, chaotic physical 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 on the ceiling sways precariously, wires are short-circuiting, sparking dangerously in the dark. Pipes have burst, and dirty water floods the floor, mixed with shattered sauces and unknown sticky substances. The air is filled with a pungent, nauseating smell of burning.

You stand barefoot in this mess, feeling utter cold, boundless darkness, and suffocating breathlessness. There is no logic, no order, only pure, overwhelming chaos and trauma. Your body disobeys, sometimes jumping at the slightest sound (hypersensitivity), sometimes ignoring the mess on the floor, feeling like a soulless husk (shutdown). In fact, these two states might alternate wildly, making you feel like you’re about to go completely insane.

In such a situation, if someone stood at the entrance of the ruin, smiling at you and saying, “Don’t worry, 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 could find?

Yes, we must first acknowledge that the core experience of trauma is often not orderly, but chaotic; not logical, but irrational; not warm, but chilling. The “guardian” story, if misused, can easily become a “beautification” and “rationalization” of pain, causing us to overlook the unbearable reality of the ruin itself.

We must first allow ourselves to acknowledge, without reservation: “Yes, my inner world has become a ruin. It’s a mess here, it’s dangerous, and it’s causing me great pain. I feel broken, on the verge of collapsing.”

Only when we fully and non-judgmentally sit with this true feeling of chaos and pain can we truly begin the next step. Otherwise, any attempt to skip this step in ‘healing’ is merely laying a beautiful carpet over a ruin, beneath which remain crumbling structures and the constant threat of another explosion.

2.2 The True Value of the ‘Guardian’ Story: Candle and Gloves

So, if reality is so cruel, why do we still introduce that seemingly “naive” guardian story?

Because its value is absolutely not to gloss over the truth, much less to deny the painful reality of your inner “ruin.”

Its role is more like this: when you are in that pitch-black ruin, overwhelmed by fear and despair, wanting only 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 dim, is enough to let you see the fragments at your feet, so you don’t get terribly cut. It allows you to gain a little bit of “control” and “direction” from the utter darkness, dominated by the unknown.

The gloves, though they can’t make the ruin disappear, give you a little courage to reach out, touch, and move the first cold, obstructing brick.

The ‘guardian’ story is that candle and those gloves. It’s not to tell you the kitchen wasn’t bombed, but to offer you the first and most important tool—permission to stop self-attacking—when you stand amidst the ruins, consumed by immense self-hatred and helplessness.

It gives you the opportunity to shift that harsh inner voice from, “How could I be so useless and make everything like this!” to a slightly more neutral, curious observation: “Okay, there was clearly 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 of all healing. It transforms you from a helpless, self-harming victim in the ruins into a survivor ready to begin surveying the scene and clearing the debris.

So, please remember, acknowledging the pain of your inner ‘ruin’ and understanding the story of ‘the clumsy guardian’ are not contradictory. The former is respect for your true feelings; the latter provides the first strength for you to emerge from 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 Guardian Becomes a New Cage

However, like any powerful tool, the “guardian” model, if misused, can also bring new, more hidden 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 a scenario like this:

• 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, in a tone that sounds deeper and more unimpeachable, you say, “My internal protection mechanism has been triggered; my ‘guardian’ thinks this is 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 behavior but tell them, “The reason I can’t open up to you is that my childhood trauma caused my internal ‘guardian’ to shut down my heart’s function; it’s protecting me.”

Do you see the problem?

While this warm story offers understanding and self-compassion, it can also inadvertently 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 “guardian,” as if having a “guardian” that needs careful nurturing is something special or cool.

This is what’s known as “romanticization of trauma.” We become so infatuated with the tragic story of the “loyal guardian” that we forget that this guardian’s actions are actively destroying our present lives. We immerse ourselves in analyzing and understanding its tragic past, yet we lose the urgency and motivation to confront the ruins and resolve to rebuild.

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

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

If “seeing the guardian” gives you the courage to stop self-attacking and to try new behaviors, then it’s a good tool. But if “seeing the guardian” allows you to comfortably 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. Our dialogue with the guardian is ultimately to update its system, to help it 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 One)—Preparing for Dialogue

Alright, now we’ve acknowledged the mess in the kitchen, understood the guardian’s clumsy good intentions, and guarded against potential pitfalls. The most important question remains: what now? How should we act?

We can neither brutally dismiss this loyal guardian (for it is a part of your subconscious; you cannot dismiss yourself), nor can we allow it to continue ‘protecting’ us in its antiquated, disastrous ways.

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

There are no shortcuts on this path, but we can start with some very concrete, even somewhat ‘gamified’ steps. In this chapter, let’s focus on the most important preparatory work: initiating dialogue.

3.1 Step One: Become an ‘Inner Observer’

This is the first step to all change, and often the most counter-intuitive. When your “guardian” jumps out again, “kidnapping” you with anxiety, procrastination, anger, or numbness, our habitual reaction is to fight (“I can’t think about this 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 filmmaker. 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 Technique: Your ‘Guardian Sighting’ Observation Journal

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

• Time/Situation of appearance: “Monday afternoon, preparing to start the project weekly report.” “Saturday evening, when receiving a friend’s party invitation.”
• Automatic thoughts (the guardian’s shouts): “This report will definitely be bad, my boss will criticize me.” “Going to the party will be awkward, no one will talk to me.” “I’m too tired, I need rest.”
• Body sensations (the guardian’s weapons): “Tightness in my chest, like a stone is pressing down.” “A sharp cramp in my stomach.” “Throat feels tight, like I can’t speak.” “Whole body feels numb and empty.”
• Your behavior: “Started endlessly scrolling short videos.” “Immediately replied to my friend saying ‘I’m busy’.” “Lay on the sofa staring blankly.”

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

Introducing Body Scan Exercise: Listen, Your Body Is Speaking

Our guardian often communicates not through “words,” but through the “body.” Those inexplicable heart palpitations, chest tightness, stomach aches, and fatigue are all its alarms ringing. We often ignore these signals or treat them as purely physiological issues.

Now, try to spend 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 shrugged high or naturally dropped?
• Is your breathing rapid 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 spot. 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. The next time your guardian sends a signal through your body, you’ll be quicker to notice: “Oh, my stomach is starting to feel uncomfortable again; it seems my guardian is worried about something.”

The “Name-Thank-Claim Power” Trilogy

Once you are able to observe your thoughts and bodily sensations, we can begin the core dialogue exercise.

1. Name it (See): “Oh, that thought of ‘I’m definitely going to mess this up’ is back.” “Hmm, ‘social anxiety,’ my old friend, has come to visit again.” “I feel that urge to run away spreading through my body.” Just naming it can create a tiny distance between you and the 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, say to this active “guardian”: “Hey, buddy, I see you. Thank you for stepping up and 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 validity and its kind intentions, which will greatly soothe it.

3. Soothe and Claim Power (Lead): Finally, tell it in a gentle but firm tone: “However, the situation is different now than it was back then. I’ve grown up, and it’s safe here. This time, I want to try handling it my own way. You can go have a cup of tea on the side and rest. Leave it to me.” This step is you, as the “commander,” reasserting your sovereignty. You are not chasing it away; you are leading it.

This process might only take thirty seconds. Its sole purpose is to interrupt the automatic “stimulus-response” chain. Through “seeing” and “thanking,” you transform your relationship with the guardian from a life-or-death “inner war” into a negotiable “internal meeting.”

3.2 Step Two: Become a ‘Failure Artist’

Your guardian has dedicated its life to preventing 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 intentionally, go and “mess up once.”

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

Perfectionism sounds like a compliment, but it is often fear’s most elaborate disguise. The reason we demand “must do our best” is precisely because, deep down, we 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 guardian, 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 impossible, but the guardian will tell you: “It’s okay, it’s safe.”

The “allow yourself to mess up” exercise is about us actively and consciously taking off this armor, even if only for ten minutes. Let our skin feel the air again, even if it’s 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, your task now is: “For the next 25 minutes, I will do my best to write the most garbage, most nonsensical report draft in the entire universe. I will intentionally use wrong words, intentionally make the logic chaotic, I will make it so bad that even I want to laugh.”

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

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

• Want to go to the gym, but afraid of people watching you do exercises incorrectly? Okay, your task is: “Today at the gym, I will only do one exercise, using the lightest weight, and do one awkward, non-standard movement that even I find funny. Then I’ll go home.”

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

And miraculously, once you start writing, speaking, or doing—even with the goal of ‘messing up’—the power supply for ‘action’ and ‘creativity’ that was cut off is often quietly reconnected by you, in a playful way, during this very process.

Guide for Post-Exercise Reflection Journaling

After completing a “mess-up exercise,” be sure to take a few minutes to answer these questions in your “Guardian Observation Journal”:

1. During the “messing up” process, did my biggest fear (e.g., being ridiculed, criticized) actually happen?
2. What actually happened?
3. How did my body feel? Did it become more tense, or more relaxed?
4. What new information about “failure” did this “messing up” experience teach me?

You prove to your guardian through action: “The sky won’t fall if I mess up. And it’s actually quite fun.” This is more powerful than any lecture.

Chapter Four: The Long Road to Reconciliation (Part Two)—Updating the Guardian’s Old System

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

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

4.1 Step Three: Become an ‘Evidence Collector’

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

Our mission is to become a diligent “evidence collector,” like a tireless lawyer, to input new, reality-reflecting, powerful “counter-evidence” into its database.

Methodology Upgrade: The ‘Guardian Database Update Log’

This exercise requires you to act like a detective, consciously seeking and recording evidence in your daily life that “contradicts the old files.” I suggest you upgrade your “Guardian Observation Journal” to a “Guardian Database Update Log,” including the following columns:

• Old Belief (Guardian’s Core Program): First, clearly write down the core program that bothers you and that your guardian 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.”

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

  • Counter-evidence example 1: Old belief: “I must be perfect.” Today, your PPT had a typo, but your boss praised your clear ideas and didn’t mention it at all. New Data: “Imperfection can still be recognized.”
  • Counter-evidence example 2: Old belief: “Cannot trust people.” Today you were in a bad mood and complained a few words to a colleague; they not only listened attentively but also bought you a coffee. New Data: “Showing vulnerability to others can lead to warm responses.”
  • Counter-evidence example 3: Old belief: “I am not worthy.” Today you just casually participated in a raffle and won a small prize. New Data: “Sometimes, good luck comes my way for no reason.”

• Establish New Belief (Write New Program): Based on this new data, try to write 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 carefully choose whom to trust, but there are still trustworthy, kind people in the world.” “My worth 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 trapped by old patterns, open this notebook and read them aloud to yourself.

Introducing the Concept of ‘Neuroplasticity’: Your Brain is Being Rewired

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

Every time you consciously “search for 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” representing “new beliefs” next to the familiar “old path” representing “old beliefs” in your brain.

Initially, your thought habits (i.e., traffic flow) will still instinctively rush onto that old highway. But as long as you persistently guide a portion of the traffic onto the new, smaller path, this path will be trodden wider and wider, and the scenery along it will also get better and better. Over time, this new “country road” will slowly transform into a new, wider highway leading to better scenery. And the old road leading to pain will gradually fall into disuse and become overgrown with weeds because no one travels it.

So, please believe in the power of your every small effort. You’re not playing a mind game; you’re performing a rigorous, scientific “brain surgery.”

4.2 Step Four: Host a ‘Graduation Ceremony’ for the Guardian

Once we have established communication with the guardian through the previous exercises, soothed its fears, and updated its database, we can move into a more beautiful stage: integration and transformation.

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

Deepening the Concept: Energy Transformation, Not Annihilation

Psychology suggests that every part of our inner self carries a certain kind of energy. The guardian that causes you “social anxiety” carries the energy of “heightened vigilance to danger” and “extreme concern for self-image.” The guardian that causes you “procrastination” carries the energy of “avoidance of failure” and “pursuit of perfection.”

These energies themselves are neither good nor bad. Misapplied, they become destructive “symptoms”; applied correctly, they can become our valuable “talents.”

• The guardian responsible for your “social anxiety,” after graduating, can be re-assigned 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 deep connection.
• The guardian responsible for your “procrastination,” after graduating, can be re-assigned as your “Project Risk Assessor.” Its pursuit of perfection can be transformed into a rigorous, detail-oriented work ethic, helping you anticipate potential risks in projects and make more comprehensive plans.
• The guardian responsible for your “emotional numbness,” after graduating, can be re-assigned as your “Personal Boundary Setting Expert.” Its ability to shut off the heart can be transformed into a healthy strength that protects you 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 perform this inner “graduation ceremony” through writing or meditation.

Find an undisturbed time, close your eyes, and imagine an inner round table meeting. You, as the chairman, sit at the head of the table. You invite the “guardian” you most wish to reconcile with to sit opposite you.

1. Sincere Gratitude: First, thank it from the bottom of your heart 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. You’ve worked hard all these years.”
2. Announce the End of an Old Era: Gently but firmly tell it: “However, that era is over. I have grown up, and I have new resources and strength to face the world. Your old methods of operation, though well-intentioned, are no longer applicable today.”
3. Grant a New Position and Honor: “Therefore, I have decided to officially announce your honorable retirement from ‘front-line combat duty.’ To recognize your loyalty and capability, I now formally appoint you as my ‘Chief Intuition Advisor’ (or another position you deem suitable). Your new mission is no longer to sound alarms, but to use your keen perceptive ability to provide me with calm, constructive advice when needed. I trust you are capable of this more important role.”
4. Imagine the Integration: Finally, imagine the image of this “guardian” slowly relaxing from a tense, hostile soldier into a wise, composed advisor. It smiles, nods at you, and then slowly merges into your body, becoming a part of your inner wisdom.

This ritual might seem a bit “mystical,” but it’s a powerful psychological suggestion. You are completing a profound inner integration in a symbolic way that your subconscious can understand.

4.3 Philosophical Reflections on ‘Gongfu’ and ‘Satori’

Having discussed this much, we seem to have a rather complete “guardian taming manual,” from observation to action, then to integration. But if you think that strictly following this manual step by step will guarantee “enlightenment,” you might fall into a new trap.

In Eastern wisdom traditions, there are two complementary concepts: “Gongfu” and “Satori.”

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

The true moments of healing that bring sudden clarity are more like “Satori.” They are like an unexpected spring rain, a dream that opens your mind, or, in an unsuspecting moment, a perfectly timed breeze, a kind word from a stranger. It comes uninvited, without logic, and cannot be planned.

“Gongfu” cannot guarantee the arrival of “Satori,” but it can prepare us to receive it.

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

Lisa, who closed her heart due to betrayal, might have practiced “Gongfu” countless times, learning to see her fear and to make small, safe connections with friends. That’s why one day, when a sufficiently sincere and patient person appeared, she might have been able to seize that moment of “Satori” and bravely open a small crack in the castle door.

So, please don’t be discouraged if you’ve practiced for a while and haven’t seen a “miracle” happen. Every little bit of “Gongfu” you do is not in vain. You are merely quietly and unknowingly loosening the soil, fertilizing, and watering the land within you.

Please believe that you only need to do your ‘Gongfu,’ and then, quietly await the blooming.

Epilogue: The Destination of Healing is Not Perfection, But the Wisdom of ‘Dancing with Cracks’

As I write this, our long journey of inner exploration is drawing to a close. We seem to have a rather complete “guardian taming manual.” But please allow me, in closing, to shatter one more potentially beautiful illusion.

Reconciling with the “clumsy guardian” within us, this long road to reconciliation, does not end with training it into a perfectly obedient, flawless intelligent butler. Nor does it mean completely restoring that “inner ruin” into a spotless, sparkling Michelin-starred restaurant.

If you are expecting a “once and for all”, completely healed, trouble-free ending, then you might be disappointed again.

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

This means that your guardian may never be “dismissed.” It merely transforms from a nervous, always-ready-to-sound-the-alarm frontline soldier into a retired veteran who occasionally grumbles a few words in your ear. Most of the time, it has learned to comfortably nap, no longer making a 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 anymore. You’ll pat its shoulder, smile, and say, “Got it, old friend, thanks for the reminder.” Then, you continue doing 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 can never be fully repaired. But you are no longer ashamed of it. You have learned to coexist peacefully with this ruin, even though it occasionally leaks or trips a circuit breaker. You might even feel that those marks are part of your life story, your badges of survival from that explosion, and quite cool.

There is an ancient Japanese repair art called “Kintsugi.” When a precious piece of porcelain breaks, artisans don’t try to hide the cracks. Instead, they meticulously repair and bond the fragments using lacquer mixed with gold powder. Ultimately, these golden lines meander across the object, becoming its most unique and brilliant features. The object is reborn through its breakage, made more beautiful by its cracks.

This, perhaps, is the truest image of healing.

We are not meant to erase the traces of trauma, but to reintegrate our broken selves using 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 mark of healing is not that you no longer experience negative emotions, nor that your guardian stops sounding alarms. Rather, it’s that when they reappear, you no longer need to immediately enter a battle state, you no longer need to analyze it, fight it, or judge it. You are simply able to make a small space for it within yourself, allowing it to stay there for a moment, just as you allow a cloud to drift across your sky. Then, you continue on your path, continue loving those you love, and continue living your perhaps clumsy, yet profoundly authentic life.

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

In that moment, you are free.