■ The first of series of monthly articles by  sociologist, counsellor, investigator and writer living and working in the Eastern Bay, Jessica Sneha Gray.

Oh my gosh, the end of the first month of the year is always telling.
I’ve noticed this most at this time of year, when heightened stress seems to increase demand on GPs and counsellors, and before the resulting pressures translate into a heavier workload for investigator colleagues working in workplace safety and emotional trauma.
That recognition is what compelled me to write this.
I did a small, informal “survey” – just conversations really – and almost everyone said the same thing:
“I’m so busy. Busy, busy, busy.”
“There’s so much to do.”
“I can’t wait for the next holiday.”
Then came the stories.
Sheila is a bully.
Aroha swears at everyone.
Matthew loses his cool.
(All true.)
And then there are those who believe they’re entitled to attack their colleagues with words because life feels hard for them.
Here’s my honest question, especially with the wars and natural tragedies around us now:
When did constant complaining replace gratitude for simply being alive?
Yes – life can be brutal.
Yes – people can be awful.
That’s real.
But why do we wake up each day rehearsing how terrible everything is, instead of remembering how extraordinary it is that we get to wake up at all?
I’m not advising you, I’m speaking from experience.
I used to get pulled into “healing the haters”.
All it did was drain me.
The same happened with the endless to-do lists. Over time, life began to feel dull, heavy, joyless, boring, mundane.
Having observed health, illness, and death closely, both through prolonged exposure and lived experience, these realities entered my world in a very real way.
Let me be blunt:
You are going to die.
One day.
Someday.
That is not dramatic – it’s reality.
So, you have two choices.
You can look outward and let other people, their moods, their aggression, and their chaos shape your wellbeing.
Or you can look inward and do your best to protect your peace.
Sometimes that means being less kind, and walking away.
Sometimes it means not engaging with aggressors at all.
One of the most powerful things I ever did was neuroscience training.
Combined with my knowledge of the world, my main takeout was:
You are the boss of your brain, not the other way around.
Anyone/anything who hijacks my neurons doesn’t get my energy. Or my work.
Yes, we all need to work – but life is more than work.
So, find your peace within.
You get to live today.
Celebrate that.
Talk to your chaplain, kaumātua, counsellor, or a trusted friend.
But no matter what, make a vow this February to live fully, deliberately, and with intention.
You are alive.
That alone is worth honouring.
Write to [email protected] and let us know how you are getting on.