"The Compass of Emotion, The Chart of Reason: Navigating the Complex Inner World"

Part One: The Divided Self—Understanding the Roots and Costs of Inner Conflict

Chapter One: Introduction—The Invisible War Within Us

A while ago, I heard a story from a friend who is an architect, about one of his colleagues. This story, like a precise probe, touched upon an unhealed, rarely spoken-of battlefield deep within many of us. Let’s call the protagonist of the story Wen Hao.

Wen Hao is an extremely talented young architect, the kind of person you’d envy during your student days—excellent grades in professional courses, a dazzling portfolio, and within a few years of graduation, he was already making a name for himself in a renowned design institute, participating in landmark projects. Recently, he encountered an opportunity that could change the trajectory of his career: a small but industry-leading, avant-garde independent firm extended an olive branch to him. The projects there were almost exactly the “ideal designs” he had sketched out in his college notebooks, full of artistic flair, experimental spirit, and an exploration of architectural language itself.

Logically, this should have been news that would thrill any young person with design dreams, but instead, it plunged Wen Hao into a prolonged internal struggle, an invisible war.

His emotions, the self composed of passion, dreams, and intuition, almost immediately shouted “Accept!” the moment he received the email. It was the yearning deep in his soul, the starlight that sustained him through countless late nights of drafting, his original intention for becoming an architect.

But his reason, the self composed of logic, planning, and risk assessment, like a cool-headed, almost cold consultant, quickly laid out a huge risk checklist before him. The list meticulously detailed: the new firm’s small size meant an unstable platform and limited access to resources; the salary was nearly one-third lower than his current one, a significant financial pressure for a young man considering settling down; and more importantly, it would mean abandoning the clear, steadily ascending career path in the large design institute for a future full of uncertainty.

And so, the war began.

Emotional “passion” and rational “future” clashed like two opposing kingdoms vying for territory within his mind. One day, he might be so exhilarated by an ingenious project from the new firm that he resolves to follow his inner calling; the next, he might be drenched in cold anxiety after hearing a senior colleague’s analysis of industry realities. His energy was rapidly drained by this constant tug-of-war, self-persuasion, and self-negation. During the day at the office, he stared blankly at his computer screen; at night in bed, he tossed and turned in endless deliberation. He even began to doubt whether the self that once passionately loved architecture was just an impractical, childish fantasy.

This story touched me deeply because, in an extreme way, it played out the conflicts we’ve all experienced internally. Perhaps not in career choices, but possibly in a difficult relationship, a decision about whether to leave home, or even just between the impulse to “indulge once” or “stick to self-discipline.” We have all felt the pain of being torn on our inner battlefield—emotion and reason, like ice and fire, water and oil, two extremes seemingly destined never to coexist.

Our culture often seems to champion one side while denigrating the other. We are taught from a young age to “think rationally” and “not be emotional,” as if emotion is some primal urge to be tamed and controlled. But when we truly try to cage it with logic, we find that we also lose life’s color, creative inspiration, and the drive to move forward. Conversely, if we are completely swept away by the torrent of feelings, we can easily crash headfirst on the rocks of reality, making decisions we later regret.

We seem to subconsciously pursue a static “balance,” like an acrobat walking a tightrope, all attention focused on maintaining a rigid posture to ensure the pointer stays perfectly in the middle. But this process itself is filled with tension, anxiety, and immense energy consumption.

Perhaps we’ve been asking the wrong question from the start. The relationship between these two powerful forces within us is not a “kill or be killed” war, nor is it a “treading carefully” balance.

What we truly need is to become a wise “conductor” for our inner “orchestra.” In this orchestra, emotion is the strings and winds, sometimes soaring, sometimes subdued, injecting soul, color, and emotional tension into the music; while reason is the precise rhythm, the rigorous formal structure, and the harmonious orchestration, providing a framework for emotional expression so it doesn’t devolve into a cacophony of noise. The conductor’s task is not to silence any instrument, but to listen to every sound, understand its qualities, and guide them, at the appropriate time and in the appropriate way, to play a grand, harmonious, and vibrant piece of music together.

In the chapters to come, I invite you to embark on this journey of becoming an “inner conductor” with me. We will treat this article as a complete, systematic guide, divided into four parts:

• Part One: The Divided Self—We will delve deep into diagnosing the roots of the problem, examining the disastrous solo performances that occur when the orchestra features only the rhapsodies of the strings or solely the precision of the metronome.
• Part Two: The Art of Inner Diplomacy—We will thoroughly debunk the myth of “balance,” introducing a series of new mental models, such as the “inner orchestra,” to establish a fresh, more constructive perspective on our relationship with ourselves.
• Part Three: The Conductor’s Baton—This will be the core of our journey, a detailed, actionable “mind toolbox.” We will systematically learn powerful techniques from fields like Neuro-linguistic Programming (NLP), discovering how to soothe runaway instruments, harmonize conflicting voices, and unleash even greater power.
• Part Four: Daily Practice Etudes—Finally, we will integrate all theories and tools into an adaptive system that can be continuously practiced in daily life, ensuring that this inner symphony can be played day after day, with ever-increasing harmony.

I hope that after reading this article, we can all find our own baton, no longer consumed by silent wars, but instead begin to enjoy the process of leading all our inner forces to collectively create the brilliant movements of life.

Chapter Two: The Vortex of Emotion—When a Solo of Feeling Drowns Out the Entire Orchestra

To understand why our inner “harmonious dance” is so important, perhaps we should first look at the disastrous consequences when one of the dancers tries to monopolize the entire stage. And the most common trap is often not the tyranny of logic, but the vortex of emotion.

Speaking of which, I recall another friend mentioning her best friend, Lin Wan. Lin Wan is an incredibly gifted girl in advertising design, as I’ve heard. Her work always manages to precisely strike the softest spots in clients’ and even users’ hearts with clever visual language. However, just last year, an important pitch project she was leading unexpectedly failed.

Failure itself is common in battle, especially in the creative industry, which is full of uncertainties. Initially, Lin Wan’s feelings were like most people’s: frustration, disappointment, mixed with a hint of unwillingness. She and her team reviewed the entire process and analyzed the competitor’s proposal; everything seemed to be on track.

But the problem arose a few days later. After the rational analysis work concluded, that pure “sense of defeat” spread rapidly in her heart like a drop of dark ink. She began to no longer “analyze that failure,” but to repeatedly “feel that failure.”

She told my friend that whenever she closed her eyes, she could see the client’s furrowed brows and hear her own heart pounding in the meeting room. This feeling was so real that it began to distort her memories of the past.

In psychology, especially within the framework of Neuro-linguistic Programming (NLP), there’s a very precise explanation for this, called “State-Dependent Memory.” Simply put, our emotional state acts like a specific filter. When you put on “sad” blue glasses, your entire world takes on a blue tint. Similarly, when your heart is completely consumed by an emotion, such as “frustration,” your memory is like a radio tuned to a specific channel, only able to receive signals related to “frustration.”

Thus, a strange thing happened. Lin Wan began to uncontrollably recall details of her graduation project being criticized by her professor in college, an afternoon early in her career when a senior told her she “lacked creativity,” and even the feeling of injustice from not winning a painting competition in elementary school. These fragments of memory, long forgotten and seemingly unrelated, now surfaced from the depths of her memory like iron filings attracted by a magnet, all pointing to one conclusion: “See, you’ve always been like this; you’re just a failure.”

She was like someone caught in the center of an emotional vortex. The initial negative feeling (the frustration of the failed pitch) became the core of the vortex. As she over-focused on this core, it generated immense gravitational pull, drawing in all related negative memories and thoughts (state-dependent memories). These swept-in memories, in turn, injected more powerful energy into the vortex, making it spin faster and pull stronger.

This is a classic “vicious cycle”:

Negative feeling -> Focus and amplify feeling -> Evoke more negative memories and thoughts -> Further intensify negative feeling -> Rational system completely blocked.

In this vortex, Lin Wan’s rational thinking ability was almost completely “offline.” She could no longer objectively see “I just experienced a failed project”; all her decisions and judgments were based solely on an unshakeable inner belief—“I am a failure.” She began to avoid new challenges, feared expressing her opinions, and even became timid when faced with simple design tasks.

The terrifying aspect of this emotional trap is how it subtly swaps the problem we face. It makes us no longer “a person who needs to solve a problem,” but rather makes us believe, deep down, that we “are the problem itself.” When a person is trapped by such a belief, they build the strongest prison for themselves, and the building material is their own inescapable feelings.

Chapter Three: The Desert of Reason—When the Metronome Replaces the Music

If the vortex of emotion is a visible storm, destructive and overwhelming, then the excessive dominance of reason is more like a silent desert. In this desert, everything is orderly, roads are straight, plans are perfect, but life is conspicuously absent, ultimately leaving only boundless emptiness and exhaustion.

This reminds me of a friend who once told me about his college classmate, Zhou Cheng.

Zhou Cheng was a legendary figure in their graduating class, the ultimate embodiment of “the child next door” that parents often praise. He seemed to be born for reason, and from his student days to entering the highly competitive financial industry, his life trajectory was like a straight line mapped out by a precise algorithm, with almost no deviation. His time was segmented into fifteen-minute blocks; his decisions were based entirely on detailed data analysis and logical reasoning; his life showed almost no trace of emotionality. In his view, anger, sadness, or even excessive joy were “wastes of efficiency,” systemic flaws that needed to be “managed” and “overcome.”

He indeed achieved great worldly success. At a young age, he held a key position in a top investment bank, managing hundreds of millions in capital, dressed impeccably, and frequented high-end office buildings. His life was like an expensive and precise machine, every gear meshing perfectly, steadily producing enviable results.

However, beneath the foundation of this rational edifice, an unseen erosion was taking place.

Within the NLP framework, the fundamental motivation behind all our actions stems from our deepest values and feelings. Reason can be an extremely powerful engine, capable of planning the fastest, most fuel-efficient route from point A to point B. However, “Why are we going to point B?” is a question that reason itself cannot answer.

Is it “because our loved ones are at point B” (love), or “because reaching point B allows us to experience the joy of exploration” (curiosity), or “because the scenery at point B makes us feel peaceful and serene” (sense of value)? These “whys,” these ultimate meanings and fuels for our actions, all come from the emotional system that Zhou Cheng regarded as a “flaw.”

Zhou Cheng’s engine was idling at high speed. He efficiently completed project after project, achieved KPI after KPI, but his inner self felt no corresponding joy or satisfaction. He was merely executing a huge, endless to-do list. He only cared about “getting it done,” having long forgotten “why it was being done.” Over time, this sophisticated engine, though well-maintained, began to lose power due to a lack of fuel. He found himself needing more willpower to get up in the morning and more coffee to maintain focus.

More dangerously, the emotions he deliberately suppressed and denied did not truly disappear.

Emotions are the deepest signal system in the human operating system, just like the body’s “pain” signals; they exist to remind us that certain needs are not being met. Zhou Cheng used powerful logic to tell himself: “I shouldn’t feel tired,” “Anxiety is a sign of incompetence,” “Disappointment is meaningless.” However, these signals did not stop being sent just because they were “denied.” They were merely forcibly pushed into the basement, where they accumulated and fermented, transforming into deeper stress, numbness, and an unspeakable emptiness.

This was like a balloon constantly being inflated, appearing smooth and calm on the surface, but with internal pressure nearing its limit.

What broke him was an ordinary morning shortly after his thirtieth birthday. He woke up five minutes late due to an urgent meeting, disrupting his unshakeable morning routine. In his haste, he knocked over a freshly brewed cup of coffee, and the hot liquid splashed onto his pristine white shirt.

Such a trivial incident became the straw that broke the camel’s back.

According to my friend, Zhou Cheng froze for a few seconds at that moment, then suddenly, like a child, burst into an uncontrollable fit of tears. It wasn’t ordinary crying, but a complete eruption of energy, accumulated over several years, mixed with exhaustion, grievance, and confusion. He turned off all communication devices and took a month-long sick leave. That sophisticated machine, which had been running for nearly thirty years, finally “crashed” due to long-term internal circuit overload.

Zhou Cheng’s story is a harsh reminder: pure logic might build us a seemingly impregnable fortress, but it could also be a desert cut off from sunlight and air. In this desert, we might walk fast, but we’ve long forgotten our direction and the scenery of our journey. And the feelings we discard as weaknesses are precisely the life-sustaining provisions that can guide us to oases and provide water when traversing this desert.

Part Two: The Art of Inner Diplomacy—Reconstructing Your Relationship with Yourself

Chapter Four: Shattering the Illusion of “Balance”

After witnessing the extreme images of the emotional vortex and the desert of reason, a seemingly natural conclusion emerges: we need “balance.”

“Balance”—the word sounds so correct, so full of wisdom, that we rarely scrutinize the profound trap it hides. It’s almost our standard answer to all binary oppositions: work and life need balance, giving and taking need balance, ideals and reality need balance… Naturally, emotion and reason also need balance.

But let’s pause for a moment and examine this “balance,” which we hold as a golden rule, carefully, even critically, to understand what it truly means.

When we say “balance,” the first image that comes to mind is often a scale. The left pan holds emotion, the right pan holds reason. And we ourselves play the role of the anxious, constantly vigilant arbiter. Our task is to continuously make fine adjustments: when the emotional weight is a bit heavier, we quickly add some to the rational side; when the rational pointer dips, we carefully add weight to the emotional side.

This process itself is a highly rational, mentally exhausting endeavor. We try to use a rational concept (balance) to frame something inherently unquantifiable (feelings). This transforms our relationship with ourselves into an endless management task, a precise calculation that requires constant monitoring. We cease to be participants in our own life experience and become external, worried “project managers.”

More importantly, the concept of “balance” inherently presupposes an “opposition” between emotion and reason. It implies that these two are competing, mutually exclusive. As if they are vying for a limited resource—your mental space. For one side to gain more, the other must yield. This presumption is precisely the root of our inner conflict. It makes us believe that our two inner parts are natural enemies, and our task is to play a difficult peacekeeping role in this eternal war.

This is the greatest illusion of “balance” thinking: it makes us mistakenly define two inner parts that should be “partners” as “competitors.”

Therefore, we need a revolution in our way of thinking. We need to switch from the old map of “opposition and management” to a new map called “cooperation and integration.”

On this new map, the core idea is: Emotion and reason are two different departments serving the same “you.” They have completely different functions and languages, but their ultimate goal is completely consistent—to enable you, as a complete person, to better survive, thrive, and experience happiness and meaning in this world.

They are not enemies, not even simple partners; they are more like two core members of a top-tier duo:

• Emotional Department: Responsible for “why.” Its language is feelings, intuition, values, and desires. It sets the vision and mission for the entire company (which is you), telling you what truly excites you and what truly matters to you. It connects you to your deepest needs and is the ultimate source of all motivation.
• Rational Department: Responsible for “how.” Its language is logic, planning, analysis, and strategy. It takes the grand vision proposed by the emotional department and translates it into concrete, actionable step-by-step plans. It assesses risks, allocates resources, and ensures the entire company doesn’t crash due to poor planning on its way to the goal.

A company with only an emotional department would be full of passion and great ideas but might remain stuck due to a lack of execution. A company with only a rational department would be like an efficient machine, precisely completing all tasks, but having long forgotten the company’s original purpose, ultimately getting lost in emptiness.

So, our task is not to “balance” the budgets or powers of these two departments, but to become an excellent “CEO” who fosters communication and cooperation between them. We need to learn to understand their respective “languages,” interpret their reports, and guide them to focus their strengths on the same goal.

When we stop trying to “balance” the weights on a scale and instead begin to learn how to chair an effective “inter-departmental meeting,” our relationship with ourselves transforms from a draining internal conflict into a creative collaboration. This is the “art of inner diplomacy” that we will explore in depth next.

Chapter Five: Building New Mental Models—Fourfold Metaphors of the Inner World

To shift from the old map of “oppositional management” to the new map of “cooperative integration,” we need more than just a change in perspective; we need a whole new “language” to describe our relationship with ourselves. Thinkers have long discovered that our way of understanding the world is largely shaped by the “metaphors” we use. If we continuously use metaphors of “war” and “scales,” our relationship with ourselves will forever be fraught with conflict and calculation.

Therefore, in this chapter, we will systematically build four powerful and elegant mental models. They are like four different windows, allowing us to observe, understand, and appreciate the rich landscape of our inner world from various angles. These metaphors are not merely literary devices; they are functional “cognitive tools” that can profoundly change how we interact with ourselves.

Model One: The Inner Orchestra (Core Model)

This is the core metaphor we will use throughout the article, as it best embodies the richness and harmony of the relationship between emotion and reason.

In this model, our inner world is a complete symphony orchestra.

• Emotion as Instruments: All our emotions, feelings, intuitions, and desires are like the various instruments in the orchestra. Passion and anger might be the soaring brass; sadness and tenderness, the deep cellos; joy and inspiration, the light violins and flutes. Each instrument has its unique timbre, range, and expressive power. No instrument is “bad” or “unnecessary.” An orchestra with only brass is noisy; one with only strings is thin. It is the presence of all these different instruments that creates the rich layers and emotional depth of the music.

• Reason as Score and Conductor: Reason plays two key roles. Firstly, it is the score—containing the music’s structure, rhythm, harmony, and melodic progression. It provides a framework and order for the free expression of emotion, ensuring that all instruments can play harmoniously rather than devolving into a cacophony of noise. Secondly, reason is our inner conductor. The conductor needs to deeply understand the characteristics of each instrument, listen to the entire orchestra’s sound, and, at the appropriate moment, use their baton to signal a section to strengthen or soften, guiding the entire orchestra to deliver a perfect performance.

• We are the Artistic Director: So, who are “we”? We are the artistic director of this orchestra. Our job is not to personally play an instrument, nor to replace the conductor in waving the baton. Our job is to set the vision for the entire orchestra—what kind of life symphony do we wish to play? A majestic heroic epic, or a tranquil pastoral song? We are responsible for nurturing and trusting our conductor (reason) and giving them enough authority to guide the orchestra. At the same time, we also need to ensure that the conductor does not suppress the emotional expression of the instruments (emotions) in pursuit of technical perfection.

This model tells us that inner harmony is not about having all instruments play at the same volume, but about letting them shine individually within a precise structure, collectively serving a grander theme.

Model Two: The River of Life and its Banks

This model is particularly helpful for understanding the relationship between the flow and boundaries of inner “energy.”

• Emotion as the Ever-Flowing River: All our vitality, passion, desires, and creativity are like this river water. It is the source of all life, nourishing the lands along its banks. Without water, the land is desolate. A dry riverbed, no matter how clear its path, is meaningless. This is why excessive rationality leads to a loss of motivation.

• Reason as the Banks that Shape the Flow: Reason, on the other hand, is like the riverbanks, formed over millennia by the erosion of water and geological sedimentation. It provides boundaries, direction, and constraint for the surging river, preventing it from overflowing and instead allowing it to gather strength, carve out magnificent canyons, and ultimately flow to the sea. Without the constraint of banks, the river water would merely spread everywhere, forming a stagnant swamp that would eventually evaporate. This is the “vicious cycle” of being overly absorbed in feelings.

• We are the Wise River Engineer: In this model, we play the role of a wise “river engineer” or “hydraulic engineer.” Our wisdom lies not in resisting the river, trying to completely block it with a dam; nor in letting it run wild, allowing floods to engulf everything. Our wisdom lies in “channeling.” We need to understand the water’s “momentum,” survey the geology of the riverbed, and then, by reinforcing embankments, clearing silt, and digging irrigation canals, enable the water’s energy to flow safely and powerfully in a more constructive way.

This model teaches us that when dealing with our powerful inner energy, the key is not “suppression,” but “guidance.”

Model Three: The Home of the Soul

This model aims to cultivate a compassionate, warm, and empathetic attitude towards ourselves.

• Emotion as Soft Life Needing to Be Seen and Soothed: In our inner home, lives a sensitive, fragile, sometimes mischievous or even troublesome “inner child” or “small animal.” It represents all our soft emotions and unmet needs. When it curls up on the sofa for a nap, the home is filled with peace; when it hisses out of fear, it is not creating a “problem,” but crying for help in its only way: “I feel unsafe, I need your protection and understanding.”

• Reason as the Family Member Responsible for Guarding and Building: Reason, on the other hand, is the more mature, stronger “guardian” or “parent” in this home. Its duty is not to scold or punish the inner child; on the contrary, it is to create a safe, warm home where the inner child can play freely. It checks if doors and windows are locked (risk assessment), ensures there’s enough food (planning for the future), and repairs leaky roofs (problem-solving). Every action it takes, no matter how cold and mechanical it may seem, is driven by a deep love and responsibility—“I must protect this home, protect the little life within it.”

• We are the “Atmosphere” of this Home: Who are we? We are the “atmosphere” of this home itself, the space of love and awareness. Our task is to foster understanding and connection between these two family members. We need to squat down and experience the world from the inner child’s perspective; we also need to stand up and feel the pressure on the guardian’s shoulders. We need to make the guardian understand that the meaning of home is not in being impregnable, but in the laughter of the inner child; and we need to let the inner child know that the guardian’s seriousness is backed by deep love.

This model helps us shift from a “problem-solving” perspective to a “relationship-building” perspective.

Model Four: The Passionate Dancer and the Precise Robot

This model is most applicable to understanding how emotion and reason dynamically cooperate and lead in specific, immediate actions.

• Emotion as the Tango Dancer Full of Improvisation and Creativity: It is passionate, spontaneous, and full of vitality. Its steps cannot be predicted in advance; it can make improvised, beautiful responses to subtle changes in the music. In creative work, interpersonal interactions, and seizing opportunities, we need the guidance of this dancer.

• Reason as the Robot Dance Partner with Supercomputing Power: It is precise, elegant, and stable. It can instantaneously calculate the optimal path, provide the most stable support for the dancer, and ensure that even in the most complex spins and jumps, the steps do not lose control and fall. In executing plans, mitigating risks, and handling complex problems, we need the precise calculations of this dance partner.

• We are the Dance Itself: In this dance, we are no longer an external observer; we are the “harmonious dance” itself. Our goal is not to judge who is leading at the moment, but to feel that fluid, harmonious energy. Sometimes, it is the emotional dancer, with passion and inspiration, making an impromptu grand leap that fills the entire stage with vitality, and the rational dance partner’s role is to trust it and stabilize the lower body with its precise calculation ability; sometimes, it is the rational dance partner taking steady, powerful steps, navigating the complex dance floor, avoiding obstacles, and moving towards a clear goal, and the emotional dancer’s role is to infuse beauty and emotion into these precise steps, making it not just movement, but a true dance.

This model emphasizes the “dynamic” and “fluid” nature of the relationship between emotion and reason, breaking any attempt to fix them.

Chapter Summary:

These four metaphors provide us with a new, rich linguistic system. They are not mutually exclusive but point to a core idea from different levels and perspectives—stop the inner war, start cooperating. In the next Part Three, we will delve into the core of this article, systematically learning the specific tools and techniques that will enable us to become better “artistic directors,” “wise river engineers,” “home atmosphere creators,” and “excellent dancers.” We will equip these beautiful metaphors with powerful, practical engines.

Part Three: The Conductor’s Baton—An Actionable Mind Toolbox

Chapter Six: Basic Emotion Regulation—Befriending Your Feelings, Not Enslaving Them

If we have accepted the premise of the “inner orchestra,” then the first step to becoming an excellent artistic director is not to learn highly advanced conducting techniques, but to first learn to understand the sound of every instrument in the orchestra, especially those loudest, most easily “out of control” instruments—our emotions.

In many traditional views, emotions, particularly negative ones, are seen as enemies to be suppressed, overcome, or even eliminated. But from a modern psychological perspective, every emotion, regardless of whether its experience is good or bad, is itself a neutral messenger. Their existence is not to cause us trouble, but to convey important information about our inner needs and external environment. Anger might be telling us, “My boundaries have been violated”; sadness might be saying, “I’ve lost something precious”; anxiety, in turn, might be reminding us, “There’s a potential threat in the future, and preparation is needed.”

The problem is not the emotion itself, but our relationship with it. When we become slaves to emotion, we are dragged into an endless vortex; only when we learn to befriend emotion can we benefit from the information it brings and coexist harmoniously with it.

This chapter will introduce three of the most basic and powerful “friendship-making” techniques. They are like “scale practice” before learning any instrument, the foundation for all more advanced techniques.

Technique One: Emotion Naming and Acceptance—Name Your Messenger

Imagine when a strange, somewhat frightening animal breaks into your home, your first reaction is usually panic and resistance. But if you can recognize it and call out its name—“Oh, it’s a startled husky”—your fear will immediately decrease, and you’ll start thinking about how to help it.

The principle of “Emotion Naming” (Labeling) is similar. Neuroscientist Matthew Lieberman’s research found that simply using language to clearly define our current emotion can significantly reduce activity in the amygdala, the brain’s emotional center, while activating the prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for logical thinking and impulse control.

In other words, when you can name your feeling, you’ve already begun to process it.

This process involves two key steps:

1. Naming: When a strong emotion arises, pause and say to yourself, silently or softly, “What I’m feeling right now is…” Try to use more specific, precise words, rather than vague terms like “unhappy” or “uncomfortable.” For example:

   • Is it “disappointment,” or “grievance”?
   • Is it “anxiety,” or “fear”?
   • Is it “irritation,” or “anger”?
   • You can even be creative with your naming, such as “a tight sense of panic as a deadline approaches,” or “a complex feeling of both envy and loss when seeing someone else’s success.”

2. Accepting: After naming, add a statement of kind acceptance. Say to yourself, “I allow myself to feel this [name of emotion] right now.” Or “It’s okay, it’s normal to feel [name of emotion].” This step is crucial because it frees you from the self-conflict of “I shouldn’t feel this way.” You are no longer fighting with this messenger, but inviting it in to sit down for a cup of tea.

Daily Practice: Emotion Journal

Prepare a dedicated notebook, or use your phone’s memo app, and spend 5-10 minutes each day recording a few events that caused emotional fluctuations, and try to complete the following sentences:

• Event: [Objectively describe what happened]
• Feeling: When this happened, the main emotions I noticed were [specific emotion name 1], [emotion name 2]…
• Thought: Along with this emotion, the thoughts that came to mind were: “[Record automatic thoughts]”
• Acceptance: I allow myself to have these feelings; this is a part of being human.

This exercise can greatly enhance your “Emotional Granularity,” which is the ability to identify and differentiate between various emotions. Individuals with higher emotional granularity typically have better psychological health, as they can more precisely address life’s challenges.

Technique Two: Body Scan and Mindful Breathing—Return to Your Body as an “Anchor”

Emotion is not just a psychological experience; it is a profound physiological one. When we are anxious, we feel our heart race, our breathing quicken, and our muscles tense; when we are sad, we might feel a heavy chest and weak limbs. The reason emotional vortices can sweep us away is largely because they hijack our bodies.

Therefore, one of the most effective ways to free ourselves from emotional control is to consciously bring our attention back to our bodies. The body is the only, most solid “anchor” we possess in the present moment.

Practice Steps: Three-Minute Breathing Space

This exercise can be done anywhere, anytime, especially when you feel emotions starting to “get the better of you.”

1. Minute One: Awareness

   • Sit or stand in a comfortable position, gently close your eyes.
   • Ask yourself: “What is my inner experience like right now?”
   • Without judgment, notice the thoughts in your mind, the emotions in your heart, and the sensations in your body. Like a weather forecaster, simply report objectively: “Hmm, I notice many worrisome thoughts, a slight tightness in my chest, and my shoulders are tense.”

2. Minute Two: Gathering

   • Now, gently gather all your attention to your breath.
   • Fully feel the rise and fall of your abdomen with each inhale and exhale.
   • Feel the entire process of air entering your nostrils, filling your chest, and slowly being exhaled.
   • Your mind may wander, which is normal. Whenever you find yourself distracted, simply and gently, without self-reproach, bring your attention back to your breath. Your breath is your “home” in this moment.

3. Minute Three: Expanding

   • While maintaining awareness of your breath, slowly expand your focus from your abdomen to your entire body.
   • Feel the sensation of your feet touching the ground, your body being supported by the chair, and the presence of your entire body as a whole.
   • With this broader, more stable awareness, slowly open your eyes and bring this calm into your subsequent actions.

The essence of this exercise is to switch from “living in the stories of the mind” to “living in the reality of the body.” When your attention is anchored in your body and breath, the emotional vortex loses its power to sweep you away.

Technique Three: Safe Space Technique—Building Your Mental Sanctuary

Sometimes, external storms are too fierce, or internal emotions are too overwhelming, and we need a place to temporarily retreat and regain energy. This place doesn’t necessarily exist in the physical world, but we can construct an absolutely safe “mental sanctuary” for ourselves in our imagination.

This is a powerful NLP and hypnotherapy technique that can provide us with a stable base for processing difficult emotions.

Construction Steps:

1. Find a Quiet Moment: Find a time when you won’t be disturbed, for about 15-20 minutes. Sit or lie in a comfortable position, take a few deep breaths, and relax.

2. Imagine or Recall a Place: This place can be real (like a childhood secret hideout, a tranquil beach) or entirely fictional (like a castle floating on clouds, a forest cottage protected by magic). The key is that in this place, you feel absolutely, 100% safe, calm, and comfortable.

3. Engage All Senses to Enrich It (VAKOG):

   • Visual: What do you see? Notice the light, colors, shapes. Is it dappled sunlight filtering through leaves, or the warm, flickering flames in a fireplace?
   • Auditory: What sounds do you hear? Is it the distant sound of waves, the rustling of wind through trees, or complete, reassuring silence?
   • Kinesthetic: What do you feel in your body? Is it the warmth of the sun on your skin, the soft sand enveloping your toes, or the comforting embrace of a cozy blanket?
   • Olfactory: What scents are in the air? Is it the fragrance of earth after rain, the salty scent of sea breeze, or the smell of books and wood?
   • Gustatory: If you wish, you can even imagine your favorite comforting drink or food there.

4. Set an “Entry” Trigger: When you are completely immersed in this safe space, feeling that extreme calm, set a “trigger” or “anchor” for it. This could be a simple word (e.g., saying “calm” to yourself), a simple gesture (e.g., gently pinching your right thumb and forefinger), or a visual symbol (e.g., imagining a glowing door).

5. Practice and Reinforce: Spend a few minutes each day using your “trigger” to enter this safe space and re-experience that calm. The more you practice, the stronger this neural connection becomes, and the faster you can enter the state.

When you encounter stress, anxiety, or any overwhelming emotion in the future, you can use your “trigger” to instantly “retreat” in your imagination to this absolutely safe sanctuary that belongs to you. Even just a minute or two there can provide you with a valuable buffer, allowing you to regroup and face challenges.

Chapter Summary:

Emotion naming, mindful breathing, and the safe space technique—these three basic skills collectively form a powerful “emotional stability system.” They help us establish a new, healthier relationship with our feelings from cognitive, physiological, and imaginative levels, respectively. They teach us that when facing emotions, we don’t have to flee, suppress them, or be consumed by them. We can be like a patient, wise friend, observing, listening, and accompanying them until they fulfill their messenger’s mission and then peacefully depart.

Chapter Seven: Core NLP Techniques (Part One)—The “Editing Room” for Reshaping Inner Experience

If the basic techniques in the previous chapter taught us how to peacefully coexist with emotional “messengers” that come to visit, then the next two chapters will delve into a more proactive and creative realm. We will learn how to become the “film director” and “editor” of our inner world, actively and consciously changing how we encode past experiences, thereby fundamentally altering their impact on our present and future.

This is the most core and magical part of Neuro-linguistic Programming (NLP). A fundamental premise of NLP is: “The map is not the territory.” This means that what troubles us is usually not the external event itself (the territory), but our “internal representation” or “mental map” of that event stored in our brain (the map). The good news is that while we cannot change the territory that has already occurred, we are fully capable of modifying, editing, and even redrawing the map in our hands.

This chapter will introduce three powerful “map editing” tools that will allow you to reshape your inner experience like a professional film editor.

Technique One: Dissociation—From Actor to Audience, Then to Projectionist

We’ve already touched upon the concept of “dissociation” in the basic lesson, which is shifting from a first-person “participant” perspective to a third-person “observer” perspective. Now, we will learn a more powerful version—Double Dissociation—which is particularly effective for dealing with particularly intense, traumatic negative memories, or deep fears of the future (such as public speaking, important exams).

Imagine that your memory of a painful past event or a future fear is a horror movie that makes you jump every time you watch it.

• First-person perspective (Actor): This is the most painful way to experience it. You are the protagonist of the movie, personally going through all the terrifying scenes, with all sensory experiences being intense and unavoidable. This is called the “Associated State.”

• Third-person perspective (Audience): Now, we perform the first dissociation. Imagine you’ve left the stage and are sitting in the audience, watching the “you” on screen experiencing everything. You are now an audience member; you know that everything on screen is not “currently” happening to you. This gives you a certain safe distance. This is called the “Dissociated State.”

• Double Dissociation perspective (Projectionist): Now, we perform the second, and most crucial, dissociation. Imagine you “float” up again from the audience, through the air, and into the projection booth at the back of the cinema. You are now the projectionist, looking through the small glass window of the projection booth, watching “the you sitting in the audience,” who is watching “the you performing on screen.”

In this “projectionist” position, you are the safest and most powerful. You hold the “remote control” for the entire movie. You can:

• Change the picture: Turn this color movie into a grainy, distant black and white silent film.
• Control the sound: Turn off those terrifying sounds completely, or give it comical, funny circus music.
• Fast forward and rewind: You can play this movie at 10x speed once, and then, at an even faster speed, absurdly rewind it (imagine people walking backward, talking backward in a comical scene).
• Pause and doodle: You can even pause on the most terrifying frame and then draw funny mustaches and glasses on it with an imaginary brush.

Practice Steps: Fast Phobia Cure

This is a classic NLP technique specifically designed to “extract” specific sources of fear.

1. Enter the “Projectionist” position: First, through imagination, settle yourself firmly in the safest projection booth.
2. Play a black and white movie: Imagine that the experience, from “a few minutes before” you experienced the fearful event until a “safe moment” after the event ended, is playing out on the screen before you as a fast-forwarded black and white silent movie. As the projectionist, you simply watch calmly.
3. Enter the movie, color rewind: This is the most crucial step. After the movie ends, imagine you instantly “fly” out of the projection booth and directly into the “last frame” of that black and white movie on the screen (the frame where you are already in a safe state). Then, in this movie, as the protagonist, in one second, rapidly rewind the entire movie from end to beginning in color! Imagine all the images, sounds, and actions rapidly reversing, finally returning to the calm moment before the event occurred.
4. Clear state, test effect: Take a deep breath, think about something else (like what you want for dinner), and completely clear your mind. Then, try again to imagine the thing that once made you fearful, and observe what difference you feel now.

This process uses “dissociation” to ensure safety, and then uses “rapid color rewind,” a way the brain cannot process normally, to thoroughly disrupt and break old, fear-related neural connections, thereby achieving “desensitization.”

Technique Two: Changing Experience Elements (Submodalities)—Your Inner World’s “Remote Control”

Every internal experience we have, whether memory or imagination, is composed of a series of more refined “sensory elements,” which NLP calls “submodalities” or “experience elements.” They are like the “technical parameters” of your inner movie. Learning to identify and adjust these parameters allows you to change the feelings any experience brings you, just like operating a TV remote control.

Key Parameter Adjustment Table:

• Visual

  • Brightness: Bright vs. Dim
  • Color: Color vs. Black & White
  • Size: Huge vs. Tiny
  • Distance: Close vs. Far
  • Clarity: Clear vs. Blurry
  • Frame: Framed vs. Panoramic
  • Dynamic: Moving video vs. Static photo

• Auditory

  • Volume: Loud vs. Quiet
  • Pitch: High-pitched vs. Low-pitched
  • Speed: Fast vs. Slow
  • Source: Internal vs. External
  • Rhythm: Rhythmic vs. A-rhythmic

• Kinesthetic

  • Location: Where in the body is the feeling?
  • Temperature: Warm vs. Cold
  • Pressure: Heavy vs. Light
  • Texture: Rough vs. Smooth
  • Dynamic: Vibrating vs. Still

Practice Steps: Mapping from “Bad Feeling” to “Good Feeling”

1. Identify “bad feeling” parameters: Choose a negative experience that bothers you somewhat, but isn’t overwhelmingly intense (e.g., an awkward social encounter). Enter this experience, then, like a technician, “scan” and record its parameters using the adjustment table above. For example: “The image is in color, very close, like a panoramic movie; the sound is internal, my own critical voice, very loud and sharp; the feeling is a heavy, cold constriction in my chest.”

2. Identify “good feeling” parameters: Now, clear your state and choose an experience that makes you feel resourceful and very positive (e.g., a successful presentation, or a moment of being loved). Similarly, scan and record the parameters of this “good feeling” experience. For example: “The image is bright, framed, at a moderate distance; the sound is external applause and encouragement, warm and rhythmic; the feeling is a light, warm flow throughout my body.”

3. Perform “parameter replacement”: Now, return to the “bad feeling” experience. Like using Photoshop or video editing software, consciously, one by one, modify the parameters of the “bad feeling” to match the parameters of the “good feeling.”

   • Push that close, panoramic image further away, and add a beautiful frame to it.
   • Turn down the volume of that sharp critical voice inside you, lower its pitch, or even make it sound like Donald Duck.
   • Imagine that heavy, cold constriction in your chest as a warm, light energy, letting it flow throughout your body.

4. Test the effect: After completing all parameter modifications, re-enter the original “bad feeling” experience and notice what changes have occurred in your feelings. Typically, its negative intensity will significantly decrease, or even become neutral or comical.

The power of this technique lies in making us understand that feelings are not static; they are determined by their structure. Change the structure, and the feelings naturally change with it.

Technique Three: Anchor Setting and Stacking—Setting “Hotkeys” for Your Superpowers

An “Anchor” is an extremely useful concept in NLP. It refers to the neural connection established between an internal “state” (such as confidence, calm, happiness) and an external “specific stimulus” (such as a gesture, a sound, a word), allowing you to quickly re-enter that state in the future by triggering the stimulus.

It’s like setting a one-click “hotkey” for your superpowers.

Practice Steps: Setting a “Confidence Anchor”

1. Find a “State of Excellence”: Close your eyes and recall a moment when you felt extremely confident. It doesn’t need to be a world-shattering event; it could simply be a perfect presentation in class, or that moment after successfully solving a tricky problem.

2. Fully immerse yourself (enter an associated state): Allow yourself to “go back” to that moment. See what you saw then, hear what you heard then, and most importantly, feel that feeling of confidence in your body at that time. Let that feeling become stronger and clearer.

3. Set the anchor at the peak of emotion: When that feeling of confidence reaches its peak, its most intense moment within you, use a unique and simple physiological stimulus to “mark” it. For example:

   • With your right hand, firmly pinch a specific spot on your left wrist.
   • Or, use your right thumb and middle finger to firmly pinch together.
   • The key is that this action must be unique, not something you do often, and the position and pressure must be exactly the same every time you set and trigger it.

4. Break state, reinforce repeatedly: After marking, immediately release your hand and think about something else (like looking out the window) to break the previous state. Then, repeat steps one through three, at least 3-5 times. Each time, mark it with the exact same action when the emotion reaches its peak. This is like continuously strengthening this neural connection.

5. Test the anchor: Break state again, returning to a normal emotional state. Then, perform the unique gesture you set. Notice if your body and mind automatically, without recalling, bring forth that feeling of confidence. If successful, you now have a “confidence hotkey” that you can activate anytime.

Advanced Play: Stacking Anchors

You can “stack” multiple different positive states onto the same anchor. For example, you can first recall a moment of “confidence” and set an anchor at its peak; then break state, recall a moment of “calm,” and mark it with the same anchor at its peak; then recall a moment of “focus”…

In this way, this anchor will become an extremely powerful activator for a “super resource state.” When you face a challenge in the future that requires confidence, calm, and focus (like an important interview), you just need to activate this one anchor to simultaneously access all these valuable internal resources.

Chapter Summary:

Dissociation, changing experience elements, and anchor setting—these three techniques together form the core equipment of our inner editing room. They transform us from passive recipients of stories into active creators of stories. They grant us a profound freedom—we cannot choose what scripts we encounter in life, but we can always choose how to direct and edit our own inner movies.

Chapter Eight: Core NLP Techniques (Part Two)—The “Negotiation Table” for Resolving Inner Conflict

After learning how to edit and direct our individual inner experiences, we will move into a more complex and profound area: dealing with our inner “multiple voices”—that is, our inner conflicts.

Almost all our most painful internal struggles stem from inner conflict. Like Wen Hao in the introduction, we often feel torn in two: “the adventurous me” versus “the me who seeks stability”; “the me who wants to be self-disciplined” versus “the me who wants to indulge in pleasure”; “the me who should please others” versus “the me who wants to express my true thoughts.” These two forces pull against each other, leaving us stuck in place, draining all our psychological energy.

Traditional approaches often try to make the “correct” side triumph over the “wrong” side. But NLP offers a revolutionary perspective, one of its core presuppositions being: “Every behavior has a positive intention behind it.”

This means that the “me who wants to indulge in pleasure” might have a positive intention of “desiring relaxation and replenishment,” not “decadence”; the “me who seeks stability” might have a positive intention of “ensuring survival and security,” not “cowardice.” Every “part” of us, no matter how destructive its behavior may seem, at its deepest level, is trying to protect us in the best way it knows how.

Therefore, the key to resolving inner conflict is not “war,” but “diplomacy.” We need to set up a “negotiation table” for these conflicting parts, giving them a chance to express themselves, be heard by each other, and ultimately discover that they are all serving the highest interests of the same “country” (which is us).

This chapter will introduce two of the most powerful “inner diplomacy” techniques.

Technique One: Perceptual Positions—“Stepping into Another’s Shoes” in the Inner World

This technique, also known as the “Empty Chair Technique,” is a powerful tool for improving any relationship (whether with others or with our own inner parts). By physically changing positions, it guides us to fully experience a conflict situation from three different perspectives, thereby gaining insights far beyond a single viewpoint.

Application Scenarios: Resolving conflicts with others, or dealing with the struggle between two distinct ideas within oneself.

Preparation for Practice: Find a relatively open space in the room and prepare three chairs (or use three cushions, three pieces of paper to represent three “positions”).

Practice Script: Using the Inner Conflict of “Should I Change Jobs?” as an Example

1. Set Three Positions

   • First Position (Chair A): Represents “yourself,” the whole you who is struggling with this conflict.
   • Second Position (Chair B): Represents one side of the conflict, for example, “the part of you that wants to change jobs and craves adventure.”
   • Third Position (Chair C): Represents a wise, neutral, and compassionate “observer” perspective. This observer has no vested interest in either side of the conflict; its sole purpose is to wish for the entire system (you) to be better off.

2. First Position: State the Problem

   • Sit in Chair A, and in the first person (“I”), fully and without judgment, state your current dilemma to the two empty chairs opposite you. “I feel very conflicted. On one hand (pointing to Chair B), I really want to seize this new opportunity, to venture into a more creative platform; but on the other hand (pointing to the other side), I’m afraid of losing my current stability and security. I feel stuck.”

3. Enter Second Position: Delve into “The Adventurous Me”

   • Take a deep breath, stand up, walk to and sit in Chair B.
   • Completely and thoroughly become “the adventurous me.” Adjust your posture, breathing, and tone of voice to match the energy of this part.
   • Speaking as “I,” address Chair A (where you were sitting): “I’m fed up with this unchanging life! I feel my talent is being wasted. That new opportunity excites me, makes me feel alive! Yes, there are risks, but life itself is an adventure! If I don’t try, I’m afraid I’ll regret it terribly ten years from now!”
   • Express fully until you feel that everything this part wants to say has been said.

4. Return to First Position: Brief Dissociation and Integration

   • Stand up, leave Chair B, first move to a neutral position, shake your body to break the previous state.
   • Then, return to Chair A. As “the complete you,” reflect on what you just heard from Chair B. What are your feelings and thoughts?

5. Enter Another Second Position: Delve into “The Stability-Seeking Me”

   • Now, imagine the other side of the conflict—“the stability-seeking me”—sitting in the space you’ve reserved for it (e.g., on the other side of Chair A).
   • Take a deep breath, stand up, walk to and sit in the position representing “the stability-seeking me.”
   • Similarly, completely become it. Feel its caution, its sense of responsibility. Speaking as “I,” address Chair A: “Adventure? Easy to say! Have you forgotten we have a mortgage to pay? Have you forgotten our responsibilities to our family? This current job, though boring, provides us with everything we need: stable income, good healthcare, a predictable future. This isn’t cowardice; it’s maturity and responsibility! That new opportunity looks great, but what if it fails? We can’t afford to lose.”
   • Again, express fully until this part feels completely heard.

6. Return to First Position: Dissociate and Integrate Again

   • Repeat step 4, returning to Chair A, listening to and processing what you just heard.

7. Enter Third Position: Gain Wise Insight

   • Now, stand up, walk to and sit in Chair C, becoming the wise, neutral “observer.”
   • From this position, you can simultaneously see “the conflicted you” sitting in Chair A, and the two bickering “parts” beside it.
   • As the observer, ask yourself some questions:
     • “What do I see? What are these two parts arguing about?”
     • “Do I notice what their respective worries and desires are?”
     • “It’s interesting, although they seem to be fighting, do I notice that they are actually both concerned about the same thing? (e.g., they both want ‘me’ to live a happy, regret-free life)”
     • “Based on everything I’ve seen and heard, if I were to give some advice to the person sitting in Chair A, what would it be? Is there a possibility that could address the needs of both parts simultaneously?”

8. Bring the Answer Back, Return to First Position

   • Bringing the insights and advice gained from the third position, return to Chair A one last time.
   • As “the complete you,” receive this gift from your inner wisdom. Notice how you feel now; is there more clarity, calm, and a sense of integration than when you started?

The magic of this process is that it transforms a chaotic “inner war” into an orderly “multi-party meeting.” By physically “changing positions,” we can truly “empathize,” thereby transcending black-and-white dualities and finding a third possibility that is more creative and integrative.

Technique Two: Parts Integration (Self-Integration)—“Shaking Hands” with Inner Conflict

If “Perceptual Positions” is like a formal hearing, then “Parts Integration” (often called Visual Squash in NLP) is more like a ritualistic, beautiful “reconciliation ceremony.” It specifically deals with intense inner struggles that feel like they are “tearing us apart,” leaving us indecisive between two choices.

The core of this technique is to guide the conflicting parties to discover their underlying common, higher positive intention and, on that basis, create a new “third choice” that integrates the wisdom and strength of both sides.

Practice Steps:

1. Identify and Externalize the Conflicting Parts

   • Sit comfortably, close your eyes, and take a few deep breaths.
   • Think about the inner conflict that makes you feel conflicted.
   • Imagine one side of the conflict (e.g., “the part of me seeking stability”) slowly emerging from your body and standing firmly on your left palm. What does it look like? Is it a soldier in armor, or a kind old person? Give it an image.
   • Then, imagine the other side of the conflict (e.g., “the part of me craving adventure”) also emerging and standing on your right palm. What does it look like? Is it an explorer with a backpack, or a sparkling ball of light?

2. Establish Communication with Each Part

   • First, focus your attention completely on the “part” on your left palm. In your mind, ask it: “What are you trying to do for me by being here? What is your purpose?” Listen carefully to its answer.
   • Then, continue to ask upwards: “When you achieve this for me, what more important, higher-level thing do you hope to bring me?” Keep asking this question (usually 3-5 times) until you reach a very core, positive word, such as “security,” “happiness,” “peace,” “sense of value,” etc. This is its “highest positive intention.”
   • Now, repeat the exact same process for the “part” on your right palm. You’ll be surprised to find that although their external behaviors and strategies seem completely opposite, when traced back to their highest motivation, what they want is often the same thing (e.g., they both want you to be “happy”).

3. Facilitate Mutual Understanding and Reconciliation

   • Now, let the part on your left hand see that the part on your right hand also has the same noble positive intention. And vice versa. Let them realize that they are not enemies, but rather comrades trying to achieve the same goal in different ways.
   • Ask both parts: “Now that you know you are both working towards the same goal, are you willing to cooperate? If you combine your respective resources, wisdom, and strength, can you create a new, better method than either of you acting alone, to achieve that common highest intention for me?”

4. Perform Visual Integration

   • When you feel both parts are willing to cooperate, slowly, slowly bring your two palms closer together.
   • Imagine that as your palms approach, the two images begin to merge, intertwine. Their light, energy, and qualities combine to form a new, more complete, and more powerful image. This new image possesses both the wisdom of the former and the strength of the latter.
   • When your hands finally meet or clasp together, the integration process is complete. Take a moment to fully feel the sensation this new, integrated image brings you.

5. Bring the Integrated Power Back into Your Body

   • Finally, slowly bring your clasped hands back to your chest or abdomen, imagining that new, integrated image being fully and gently absorbed back into your body, becoming a part of you.
   • Take a few deep breaths, feeling this new, no longer conflicted, complete strength flowing within you.

Chapter Summary:

Inner conflict is not a sign of a flawed personality; on the contrary, it highlights the richness and complexity of our inner world. Through the two major diplomatic tools of “Perceptual Positions” and “Parts Integration,” we learn to no longer view these conflicts as enemies to be eliminated, but as valuable opportunities for “internal negotiation.” We learn to listen to every voice, respect every need, and ultimately, in seemingly irreconcilable opposition, find the wise third path leading to higher integration. This is the art of becoming a peacemaker in your own inner world.

Part Four: Daily Practice Etudes—Building Your Adaptive Practice System

Chapter Nine: Risk Management—The Three-Color Emergency Manual for Inner States

By now, we have explored the roots of inner conflict, established new mental models, and acquired a “mind toolbox” filled with powerful tools. This might seem like a perfect ending. But precisely here, we face a crucial, often overlooked reality: we are not always in an ideal state suitable for using these tools.

This is like meticulously learning a complex recipe and preparing top-notch kitchenware, but if the kitchen itself is on fire, what we need most is not to figure out how to cook a Michelin-star meal, but to find a fire extinguisher and an escape route.

This vital “risk management” awareness stems from the profound insight of the “Critic” role in our mastermind discussion. He reminds us that any excellent system must include a “fail-safe mechanism.” We cannot assume we will always be the calm, rational, resourceful “conductor” or “editor.” In fact, the times we most need these tools are precisely when we have the least mental energy to use them.

Therefore, before learning how to “develop” and “optimize,” we must first learn how to “survive” and “stabilize.” We need to establish an adaptive practice system that can match the most appropriate action strategy to our current inner state.

The core of this system is an “Inner State Three-Color Emergency Manual” that we need to customize for ourselves. Its core principle is: First survive, then stabilize, then develop.

This manual roughly divides our inner state into three zones:

• 🟥 Red Alert (Survival Mode | Red Zone)
• 🟨 Yellow Alert (Stabilization Mode | Yellow Zone)
• 🟩 Green State (Development Mode | Green Zone)

Our task is to learn to first “triage” ourselves into which zone we are in at any given moment, and then strictly follow the action instructions for that zone.

🟥 Red Alert: Survival Mode

Identifying Signals: This is when you feel completely overwhelmed by emotion, on the verge of or actively in a breakdown state. Signals may include:

• Physiological: Extremely fast and uncontrollable heart rate, extremely rapid breathing or feeling of suffocation, body trembling or stiff, feeling dizzy or detached from reality.
• Emotional: Experiencing extreme panic, anger, despair, or numbness, feeling completely out of control.
• Cognitive: Mind blank, unable to think logically, strong urges to run, hide, or attack.

Core Philosophy: In the Red Zone, your only task is to “survive.” At this point, all complex psychological techniques that require cognitive resources (such as Parts Integration, Submodalities) are completely ineffective, and may even be harmful. You must abandon any attempt at “self-regulation” or “problem-solving.”

Action Directives (Please prepare these for yourself in the Green Zone):

1. Seek External Support (Highest Priority):

   • Immediately contact one or two pre-designated, most trusted individuals (partner, close friend, family member, or therapist).
   • You can have a simple code between you, such as sending “Red Alert” or a specific emoji, so they understand you need immediate, non-judgmental support. This support might simply be quiet companionship on the phone, or them coming to be with you.

2. Ensure Environmental Safety:

   • If you are driving, pull over immediately.
   • Leave any environment that makes you feel unsafe or stressed.
   • Go to your pre-designated “physical safe space,” such as your bedroom, car, or a restroom where you can be alone.

3. Use Strong Physiological Intervention:

   • The goal here is to use strong, simple physical sensations to interrupt the uncontrolled emotional spiral.
   • Temperature Method: Splash cold water on your face, or tightly grip ice cubes in your hands.
   • Pressure Method: Push against a wall forcefully and slowly, or wrap yourself tightly in a heavy blanket.
   • Sensory Method: Eat something with an extremely strong taste, such as a slice of lemon or a very sour candy.

Remember, in a Red Alert, you are not a machine to be “fixed”; you are an injured life that needs to be protected. Allowing yourself to seek help is your most courageous and wisest action.

🟨 Yellow Alert: Stabilization Mode

Identifying Signals: This is your “alert zone” where you feel immense pressure, emotional fluctuations, but are not yet completely out of control. Signals may include:

• Physiological: Persistent body tension (especially shoulders and jaw), feeling tired but unable to sleep, significant changes in appetite, mild heart palpitations or chest tightness.
• Emotional: Irritability, easily angered, overly sensitive to others’ words and actions, repeatedly replaying unpleasant events, feeling anxious or low.
• Cognitive: Difficulty concentrating for more than 5 minutes, thinking becoming narrow and “black and white,” increased procrastination.

Core Philosophy: In the Yellow Zone, your primary goal is “stabilization,” to prevent your state from sliding into the Red Zone. At this point, you should pause all complex, introspective, or challenging tasks (such as doing Parts Integration or learning new skills). Your task is to use the simplest tools to “de-escalate” yourself back to the Green Zone.

Action Directives (Choose 1-2 methods most effective for you):

1. Activate Your “Calm Anchor”:

   • Use the “calm” or “resource state” hotkey you set for yourself in Chapter Seven. This is the best time for it to work.

2. Perform the “5-4-3-2-1 Sensory Grounding Technique”:

   • This is a golden technique for forcefully pulling your attention from internal storms back to external reality.
   • Aloud or in your mind, name: 5 things you see, 4 sounds you hear, 3 objects you feel touching your body, 2 smells you perceive, 1 taste you experience.
   • This process can effectively bring your prefrontal cortex back “online.”

3. Engage in “Pattern Interrupt” Physical Activity:

   • Leave where you are sitting, stand up, and do a 5-10 minute activity that slightly raises your heart rate, such as quickly walking up and down stairs, jumping jacks, or singing along to a song at full volume.
   • This can effectively change your physiological state, thereby changing your emotional state.

4. Use the “Three-Minute Breathing Space”:

   • Perform the basic exercise we learned in Chapter Six, consciously bringing your attention back to your breath and body.

In the Yellow Zone, you need to be like a patient gardener who, after a storm, doesn’t rush to plan next season’s planting, but first props up bent plants, clears broken branches, and restores order and calm to the garden.

🟩 Green State: Development Mode

Identifying Signals: This is your ideal state, where your inner self is relatively calm, you feel resourceful, and you are capable of thinking and creating.

• Physiological: Body relaxed, energetic, sleeping well.
• Emotional: Feeling calm, open, curious, and motivated about life.
• Cognitive: Clear, expansive thinking, ability to learn new things and solve complex problems.

Core Philosophy: The Green Zone is the only state suitable for learning, growth, and deep self-exploration. All the powerful tools we learned in Part Three should be practiced and applied in this zone.

Action Directives:

1. Practice and Exploration:

   • This is the best time to practice advanced techniques like “Changing Experience Elements,” “Perceptual Positions,” and “Parts Integration.” Familiarize yourself with them in a calm state so you can use them fluidly when needed.
   • This is also when you should set and reinforce your “anchors.”

2. Engage in Creative or Challenging Work:

   • Dedicate your best energy to tasks that require deep thought and creativity.

3. Execute the “Daily Maintenance Protocol”:

   • We will detail how to establish a daily practice system in the Green Zone that helps you stay in this zone longer in the next chapter.

Chapter Summary:

This “Three-Color Emergency Manual” is the cornerstone of risk management for our inner world. It acknowledges a simple yet profound truth: who you are depends on where you are right now. A true practitioner is not someone who tries to stay in the Green Zone forever, but someone who clearly knows which zone they are in and has the corresponding toolbox and action guide.

In the next chapter, we will learn how to establish a sustainable daily maintenance and development protocol for our “Green Zone” life.

Chapter Ten: Daily Practice—From Knowing to Doing: “Muscle Memory”

Merely having an emergency manual is like merely owning a gym membership; it doesn’t bring change itself. True change happens through our day-in, day-out, continuous practice. We need to transform all the wisdom learned in previous chapters from “I know it” to “I’ve done it,” eventually internalizing it into an almost instinctive “this is just how I am.”

This chapter, integrating the action wisdom of the Praxis role, will provide you with a concrete, actionable “Inner Orchestra Daily Practice Protocol 2.0.” The goal of this protocol is not to add to your burden, but to make “self-care” a natural, low-energy daily habit, like brushing your teeth or washing your face.

This protocol should only be performed when you are in your “Green Zone” state. Its purpose is to help you stay in the Green Zone longer and improve your efficiency in recovering from the Yellow Zone to the Green Zone.

Praxis Protocol 2.0: Four Daily Practice Steps

Step One: Morning Calibration (2 minutes)—Listening to the Orchestra’s Initial Tone

Purpose: Before the day’s deluge of information, first connect with your inner world to understand your “starting state” for the day.

Action: After waking up, before picking up your phone or diving into work, give yourself two minutes. You can sit on the edge of your bed or stand by a window.

1. Body Scan (1 minute): Close your eyes and, like a gentle scanning beam, sweep over your entire body from head to toe. Don’t try to change any sensations; just purely and curiously observe. Is your forehead relaxed or tense? Is your breathing deep or shallow? Is your stomach calm or churning? This is listening to the most direct physiological signals your “emotional instruments” are emitting.
2. State Naming (30 seconds): Based on your scan, try to name your overall state in one or two words. For example, “calm and determined,” “slightly tired but hopeful,” “a bit agitated and rushed.” This is the quick application of “emotion naming” we learned in Chapter Six.
3. Set Intention (30 seconds): Ask your “rational conductor”: “Understood. Based on this initial state, what do we need most today? Do we need more patience, or can we go full throttle? What is the theme of our ‘score’ for today?”

Outcome: You don’t start your day blindly in a “good” or “bad” state, but consciously begin it in a “known” state. You’ve understood the initial flow rate of the river today, allowing you to better plan the day’s journey.

Step Two: Intention Setting (1-5 minutes)—Setting the Theme for Today’s Movement

Purpose: Transform the “awareness” gained from morning calibration into a specific, actionable plan, ensuring your reason and emotion are “dancing together” from the start, rather than conflicting.

Action: At the top of your to-do list, or on a sticky note, write down your “core intention” for the day. This intention should follow a simple sentence structure:

“Today, I will [a specific, rational action] to support my [an emotional need or desire].”

• Example 1 (if feeling anxious): “Today, I will focus on completing the three most difficult points in the report (rational action) to support my desire for control and certainty (emotional need).”
• Example 2 (if feeling energetic): “Today, I will proactively initiate that long-delayed project discussion (rational action) to support my passion for creation and growth (emotional desire).”
• Example 3 (if feeling tired): “Today, I will firmly leave work at 5
  PM and turn off work notifications (rational action) to support my body’s need for rest and recovery (emotional need).”

Outcome: Your reason is no longer a cold taskmaster forcing you to complete a list. It becomes a clever ally, where every action serves your deepest inner needs. This can fundamentally change your relationship with “work” and “self-discipline.”

Step Three: Pre-set Interruptions (2-3 times daily, 30 seconds each)—The Conductor’s Necessary Pause

Purpose: Train the ability of “dissociation” and “self-awareness” to prevent unconsciously sliding from the Green Zone to the Yellow Zone without realizing it.

Action: Set 2-3 fixed, non-round-number reminders on your phone or calendar. For example, 10

AM, 3PM. Name the reminder “How are you?” or “Pause.”

When the reminder goes off, no matter what you’re doing, strictly perform the following 30-second “pattern interrupt”:

1. Stop: Halt all work.
2. Breathe: Take one long, deep abdominal breath.
3. Dissociate: Imagine your view instantly pulling back, as Spark said, rotating to the other end of the dance floor, or as Sage said, standing on a high mountain. Objectively observe the “you” who is working.
4. Ask: Ask yourself: “Is our dance going well right now? Is the orchestra playing harmoniously? Which color zone am I in?”
5. Adjust: Based on your answer, make a small adjustment. It might just be standing up and stretching, drinking water, or re-clarifying the purpose of the current task. Then, continue.

Outcome: You transform “self-awareness” from a “good habit” that requires willpower to remember, into an “automatic process” triggered by external reminders. This greatly increases your sensitivity to changes in your inner state, enabling “prevention rather than cure.”

Step Four: End-of-Day Review (5-10 minutes)—The Conductor’s Daily Summary

Purpose: Extract “data” and “wisdom” from the day’s practice, to learn and iterate, making your inner system smarter and more harmonious each day.

Action: Before bed, away from electronic screens, use pen and paper (this is important; the tactile experience of writing connects your emotion and reason better) to answer the following two questions:

1. Moments of Harmony (Find and Reinforce Positive Anchors): “Today, when did my emotion and reason cooperate best? What happened then? What did I see, hear, and how did my body feel?”

   • Example: “During the meeting with the client this afternoon, I felt nervous inside (emotional signal), but my reason didn’t suppress it; instead, it prompted me to prepare for an extra 15 minutes (rational action), and as a result, my presentation went smoothly. That feeling was one of confidence and certainty.”
   • Purpose: By revisiting and describing these successful experiences, you are consciously strengthening those neural connections for “effective cooperation.”

2. Signals of Conflict (Learn and Adjust): “Today, at what moment did I feel inner conflict or imbalance (sliding from Green to Yellow Zone)? What was that ‘alert’ (emotional signal) trying to tell me? How did I respond then? If I could do it again, what different choices could I have made?”

   • Example: “When it was time to rest tonight, I was still scrolling on my phone. My body felt very tired (emotional signal), but a voice in my head said, ‘a little more won’t hurt’ (rational excuse). As a result, I went to bed late, which affected my state the next day. Next time this happens, I can activate an extended version of the ‘leave work at 5
     ’ intention, setting a clear instruction like ‘put down the phone at 10
     ’.”
   • Purpose: This is not self-criticism, but “data analysis” and “system optimization.” You are training your “conductor” to learn from every discordant performance, so they can conduct better in the future.

Important Addition: External Calibration Mechanisms

As the Critic warned, our “internal dashboard” can sometimes be inaccurate. Therefore, we need to add a crucial safety component to this daily protocol—anchors connected to external reality.

• Social Calibration:

  • Action: Establish a “calibration agreement” with one or two friends or partners you absolutely trust and who understand this system. When you are confused about your state (“I don’t know if this is normal tiredness or if I’m already in the Yellow Zone?”), you can send them a simple request (e.g., “Request calibration”) and listen to what they observe about your state from an external perspective.
  • Purpose: Use a clear-headed, benevolent external perspective to correct any potential cognitive biases (e.g., “can’t see the forest for the trees”).

• Data Calibration:

  • Action: If you wish, track 1-2 relatively objective physiological or behavioral indicators highly correlated with your emotional state. For example: sleep duration and resting heart rate recorded by a fitness tracker, or more simply, the number of times you proactively contacted friends this week, the frequency of completing your fitness plan, etc.
  • Purpose: When your subjective feelings (“I feel fine”) conflict significantly with objective data (“but I’ve only slept 4 hours for three consecutive nights”), this is a strong alert indicating that your self-assessment may be inaccurate and you need to forcibly downgrade your state (e.g., even if you feel in the Green Zone, act according to Yellow Zone directives).

Chapter Summary:

This daily protocol, along with external calibration mechanisms, forms a complete, dynamic, and sustainable personal growth system. It transforms us from passive “problem-solvers” into proactive “system caretakers.” Don’t strive to perfectly execute all steps on the first day. Start with the step you find easiest and most appealing. The value of action far outweighs a perfect plan. By playing these simple practice pieces day after day, you will find that grander movements are already naturally unfolding in your life.

Chapter Eleven: Conclusion—From Conductor to the Music Itself

We have walked a long and profound journey together. Starting from Wen Hao’s dilemma, we diagnosed the roots of inner division, witnessed the vortex of emotion and the desert of reason; we shattered the illusion of “balance,” and reconstructed our relationship with ourselves using four metaphors like the inner orchestra and the river of life; we opened a conductor’s baton filled with powerful NLP tools, learning to regulate emotions, reshape experiences, and resolve conflicts; finally, we established an adaptive system for ourselves that can be continuously practiced in daily life.

It seems we have found all the answers. We have learned how to become a better “inner conductor.”

However, at the end of this journey, I want to invite you, and me, to gently put down this “baton” and ponder a deeper question posed by the “Zen” role in our mastermind group:

Do we learn all these techniques, follow all these disciplines, to become a more perfect “manager,” or to ultimately be able to let go of management?

Do we strive to distinguish and name the various inner voices to control them better, or to ultimately hear the common stillness behind all those voices?

All our efforts, all our tools and models, serve the “self” that busily navigates between feeling and reason, seeking harmony. But is it possible that ultimate freedom comes not from having a stronger, more precise “self,” but from realizing that we are not the storm; we are the sky that contains the storm?

Is the awareness that can perceive “I am in the Red Zone” itself in the Red Zone? Is the seeing that can perceive “my assessment is inaccurate” itself inaccurate?

This is perhaps the silent question to which all tools ultimately point. We learn to build boats to cross rivers. We learn all techniques, like meticulously building an increasingly sturdy and advanced boat, to help us navigate the currents of life. But we must constantly remind ourselves that our destination is the other shore, not to become a “boat builder” who spends a lifetime constantly perfecting and repairing boats.

The other shore, perhaps, is not an ideal land where emotion and reason perfectly coexist, but a place where we can finally put down the boat and let go of the “I” who crosses the river. There, we no longer need to deliberately “conduct” or “integrate,” because we have already experienced that everything within us is inherently one. They come and go like clouds, naturally arising and ceasing, and we are that vast, clear sky, neither increasing nor decreasing, neither stained nor pure.

Let’s conclude by returning to Wen Hao’s story.

Later, my friend told me that Wen Hao did not make a black-and-white, “correct” choice. He neither resolutely pursued his ideal nor completely succumbed to reality. He used methods similar to those we discussed to engage in a deep “internal negotiation” with himself.

He allowed his “adventurous self” to fully express its yearning for art and fear of mediocrity; and he allowed his “stability-seeking self” to detail its responsibilities to family and worries about risk. He discovered that both parts, at their core, pointed to the same highest intention—“I want to live a valuable and regret-free life.”

Ultimately, he created a “third choice.” He proactively approached the founder of the avant-garde firm for a very frank conversation. He didn’t join directly but instead, as a “project partner,” deeply participated in one of their smallest, most experimental projects in his spare time. Concurrently, he applied to his current large design institute for a transfer to a less core position that would allow him more personal time.

From a purely rational perspective, this choice wasn’t “profit-maximizing”; from a purely emotional perspective, it wasn’t “radical and pure” enough. But it was a choice that brought him an unprecedented sense of integration and peace within. He was no longer at war with himself, because his solution simultaneously addressed the “adventurer’s” need for creativity and the “guardian’s” need for security.

I don’t know if Wen Hao’s project will ultimately succeed, or where he will go in the future. But that no longer matters. What matters is that he has learned how to transform inner warfare into a harmonious dance. He made a choice that, regardless of the outcome, he could calmly and completely embrace and experience.

This, perhaps, is the most precious gift this journey of inner exploration can offer us. It is not a one-time, ultimate answer, but a lifelong practice, a wisdom for living with oneself.

I hope this long article, like a sincere friend, provides you with some inspiration, some tools, and some courage to navigate through the mist. More importantly, I hope it becomes a personal manual you can refer to and practice repeatedly. Because true change never happens when you read the last page, but at the moment you close the book and begin to play the first practice note in your own life.