<![CDATA[Superior Self

<![CDATA[Superior Self - Blog]]>Mon, 10 Aug 2026 03:57:38 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[The Science of Play After 50: Why Fun Is One of the Best Things You Can Do for Your Brain]]>Mon, 10 Aug 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/the-science-of-play-after-50-why-fun-is-one-of-the-best-things-you-can-do-for-your-brain

Somewhere along the way, many of us began believing that play belongs to children while productivity belongs to adults. We schedule doctor's appointments, pay mortgages, care for aging parents, raise children, and work hard—but we often forget to simply have fun. The truth is that our brains don't stop benefiting from play after we turn 50. In fact, this may be one of the most important stages of life to embrace games, hobbies, laughter, and friendly competition. Whether you're playing a game of Rummikub, tackling a jigsaw puzzle with your grandchildren, joining friends for bridge, or laughing your way through a family game night, you're doing far more than passing the time. You're exercising your brain in ways that support healthy aging.

Scientists have discovered that mentally stimulating leisure activities can help build what is known as cognitive reserve—the brain's ability to adapt and compensate for age-related changes. A large study published in JAMA Network Open found that older adults who regularly participated in activities such as card games, board games, crafts, reading, and social engagement experienced a lower risk of developing dementia compared with those who were less mentally active. Games challenge memory, problem-solving, attention, language, and decision-making while also encouraging conversation and social connection. Researchers also know that laughter and enjoyable social interaction reduce stress hormones such as cortisol while increasing feel-good chemicals like dopamine and endorphins. It's a wonderful reminder that fun isn't frivolous—it's part of a healthy lifestyle.

Working in an acute geriatric behavioral health unit, I see the power of play nearly every day. Patients who arrive feeling anxious, depressed, withdrawn, or confused often come alive during recreational therapy. A simple game of Uno can spark conversation. A few rounds of Bingo can encourage concentration and confidence. Balloon volleyball, charades, trivia games, and collaborative puzzles invite movement, teamwork, and laughter. Sometimes I watch someone who hasn't smiled all morning suddenly light up because they remembered how to play a favorite childhood game. Those moments remind me that beneath illness, fear, or memory loss, our need for joy and connection never disappears. Recreation isn't "just an activity." It's therapy for the heart, mind, and spirit.

As we grow older, perhaps we should stop asking whether play is a good use of our time and start asking why we've neglected it for so long. We don't have to become children again to benefit from childlike curiosity. We simply have to give ourselves permission to enjoy ourselves without guilt. Invite friends over for game night. Teach your grandchildren the card games you loved growing up. Join a community game group at your local senior center or library. Visit an arcade and rediscover the thrill of skee-ball or pinball. Play isn't the opposite of maturity—it may be one of the smartest investments we can make in our long-term brain health. Growing older is inevitable, but growing old at heart is entirely optional.

In Gratitude.
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

References

Fancourt, D., & Steptoe, A. (2022). Cultural engagement and risk of dementia in older adults. JAMA Network Open.
Alzheimer's Association. Brain Health and Cognitive Wellness.
National Institute on Aging. Cognitive Health and Older Adults.
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Healthy Aging: Social Connectedness and Mental Well-Being.

]]><![CDATA[Never Outgrow Play: Why Children's Games Still Belong in Adult Life]]>Mon, 03 Aug 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/never-outgrow-play-why-childrens-games-still-belong-in-adult-life

When was the last time you played Go Fish, Old Maid, Uno, Candy Land, or pulled out a favorite board game just for fun? Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, many of us quietly pack away our sense of play. We become consumed by careers, caregiving, paying bills, and checking items off endless to-do lists. Yet that playful spirit doesn't disappear—it simply waits to be invited back. Every time we shuffle a deck of cards, roll the dice, or laugh over a silly game with family or friends, we're reconnecting with a part of ourselves that never really grew up. Isn't that why arcades still attract adults? Why escape rooms, miniature golf, trivia nights, and bowling alleys remain so popular? Deep down, we never stop craving opportunities to play.

Play isn't just entertaining—it's good for our brains and bodies. Research has shown that games requiring strategy, memory, attention, and social interaction help stimulate multiple areas of the brain. For older adults, regular cognitive activities such as card games and board games have been associated with maintaining thinking skills and may even help delay cognitive decline. Just as important, games reduce stress by encouraging laughter, conversation, and healthy competition. A few rounds of Yahtzee, Scrabble, Dominoes, or Sorry! can lower tension far better than another hour scrolling through social media. The goal isn't to win every game; it's to experience joy together.

Working with older adults in behavioral health has reminded me that play has no expiration date. I've watched patients who seemed withdrawn suddenly smile while matching cards in a memory game, become animated during a game of Bingo, or laugh out loud over a simple round of balloon volleyball. For a few precious moments, diagnoses, worries, and loneliness fade into the background. The same thing happens at family gatherings when grandparents teach grandchildren how to play Crazy Eights, or when adult siblings argue playfully over the rules of Monopoly. Games create connection across generations because everyone, regardless of age, understands the universal language of play. When my adult children come home to visit, we play THINGS, CONNECT 4, SCRABBLE. and UNO regularly. The laughter and sense of friendly competition fill the air with pure joy.

Perhaps staying young isn't about looking younger at all. Maybe it's about refusing to lose the curiosity, laughter, and imagination we had as children. The next time you have a free evening, resist the urge to turn on another television show. Pull a game off the shelf instead. Invite your neighbors over for cards. Visit an old-fashioned arcade and challenge your spouse to skee-ball. Let yourself be delightfully silly. After all, if we continue the thread of playfulness throughout our lives, we aren't clinging to childhood—we're honoring one of the healthiest, happiest parts of being human.

Go out and play. Go in and play. Create memories that will last and family traditions that will sustain generations.
Blessings,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[Traditional 10 month School Year for Kids vs Year Round Education]]>Mon, 27 Jul 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/traditional-10-month-school-year-for-kids-vs-year-round-education

The traditional school calendar has been part of American education for well over a century, providing students with approximately 180 instructional days followed by a lengthy summer break. Although some believe this model is outdated, many educators and families continue to support the familiar rhythm. The long summer vacation offers opportunities that extend beyond academics, allowing children to mature through camps, travel, employment, volunteer work, and family experiences that classrooms simply cannot replicate.

One advantage of the traditional calendar is flexibility. Summer provides teachers time for professional development, curriculum planning, graduate coursework, and personal rejuvenation. Students involved in sports, music programs, internships, or summer jobs often benefit from having uninterrupted time to develop life skills. According to surveys conducted by the National Summer Learning Association, structured summer programs can help students continue learning while still enjoying the freedom of vacation.

Critics often point to summer learning loss, yet many experts argue that high-quality summer enrichment programs are more effective than changing the school calendar itself. Families who engage children in reading, museums, camps, libraries, and educational activities can significantly reduce academic decline. Additionally, converting to a year-round schedule may create logistical challenges involving childcare, transportation, athletics, and coordinating schedules with neighboring districts.

For many communities, the traditional calendar remains the better choice because it aligns with extracurricular activities, college schedules, family vacations, and local businesses that rely on seasonal employment. Rather than restructuring the school year, many educators recommend investing in affordable summer learning opportunities that preserve the benefits of both academic growth and childhood exploration.
One of the strongest arguments for year-round schooling is reducing "summer learning loss," sometimes called the summer slide. Studies suggest students can lose one to three months of academic progress over the summer, particularly in mathematics and reading. Children from lower-income families are often affected the most because they may have fewer opportunities for enrichment activities during extended vacations. Researchers at the RAND Corporation have found that regular breaks throughout the year help many students maintain academic momentum and return to school with less review time needed.

Year-round calendars may also improve student and teacher well-being. Frequent breaks can reduce burnout, giving everyone opportunities to recharge before exhaustion builds. Families often appreciate traveling during off-peak seasons when vacations are less crowded and less expensive. Schools operating on multi-track calendars can even accommodate growing student populations without constructing new buildings by staggering attendance schedules.

While year-round education is not a magic solution for improving achievement, it offers meaningful benefits for many communities. Research generally shows modest academic gains, particularly for students at greater risk of falling behind. Success depends on the quality of instruction rather than the calendar alone, but year-round schooling provides an innovative approach to keeping students engaged, supporting working families, and creating a healthier balance between learning and rest.

Which Calendar Is Better?

The answer depends largely on a community's priorities.

If the primary goal is improving academic retention, especially for students who struggle or have limited access to summer enrichment, year-round schooling offers measurable advantages. Research suggests it can modestly reduce learning loss and provide more consistent educational progress.

However, if communities value flexibility, family traditions, summer employment, camps, sports, and synchronized schedules with colleges and neighboring districts, the traditional calendar continues to serve students well. Many education researchers conclude that instructional quality, excellent teachers, parental involvement, and access to enrichment opportunities have a far greater impact on student success than the calendar itself.

For me, parental involvement was the most important factor in my kids' education. My spouse worked in a flexible schedule depending upon the event planning circuit of parties and weddings, and I had a 6pm - 2am schedule at the Hilton. For my kids, I created Mama Camp. We could not afford summer camps, so I would copy the curriculum of the exciting camps in the San Francisco area, and we would do the activities in the daytime before my evening schedule of 6pm - 2am at the Hilton hotel. On my days off we would go on longer field trips to warmer areas of the Bay Area to enjoy amusement parks, nature, swimming parks, and of course, candy factories. We would travel to see family in other states only when an obligatory wedding, B'nai Mitzvah, or graduation occurred. That way we would not tank the budget.

Rather than asking which calendar is universally better, school districts should ask which model best meets the needs of their students, teachers, and families. Maybe each school can have both options in play, and then the teachers and families can choose which better fits their needs. That way there is room for more employment of teachers, overtime for other employees, and community based programming outside of the school to have year round programming instead of only summer cramps, creating more year round jobs for the part time workers and working students, thus enhancing the economy in the US.

What do you think about these options? Which works better for your family and why? I want to hear from you!

In Gratitiude,
KJ Landis@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

Statistics

U.S. public schools typically provide 180 instructional days each year.
Studies estimate students may lose 1–3 months of academic learning over a long summer break, with math losses often exceeding reading losses.
Approximately 2–4% of U.S. public schools currently operate on some form of a year-round calendar.
Research generally finds small but positive academic effects of year-round education, particularly among economically disadvantaged students.
Both calendar systems typically require the same total number of instructional days; the difference lies in how vacation time is distributed.

Bibliography
Cooper, H., Nye, B., Charlton, K., Lindsay, J., & Greathouse, S. (1996). The Effects of Summer Vacation on Achievement Test Scores: A Narrative and Meta-Analytic Review. Review of Educational Research, 66(3), 227–268.
RAND Corporation. Making Summer Count: How Summer Programs Can Boost Children's Learning.
National Summer Learning Association. Summer Learning Research and Resources.
National Center for Education Statistics (NCES). Digest of Education Statistics.
Von Hippel, P. T. (2019). Is Summer Learning Loss Real? Education Next.
American Institutes for Research (AIR). Research on Expanded Learning Time and Year-Round Education.

]]><![CDATA[Skincare Needs for Folks Over 60]]>Mon, 20 Jul 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/skincare-needs-for-folks-over-60Turning 60 often brings a new appreciation for skin—not because we're chasing youth, but because we're learning how to care for the skin we have. Around this stage of life, the skin naturally becomes thinner, drier, and less elastic. Decades of sun exposure begin to show as age spots, uneven texture, and fine lines become more noticeable. Hormonal changes also play a role. Women experience a significant decline in estrogen after menopause, while men gradually lose testosterone, both of which contribute to decreased collagen production.

The good news? A thoughtful and simple skincare routine can dramatically improve comfort, hydration, and the appearance of healthy skin. The biggest change most people notice after 60 is dryness. The skin produces less oil, making it feel rough, itchy, or tight, especially during colder months or after bathing. I had itchy skin a couple of years agon, especially after the night sweats. When I scratched the itchy skin at night in my sleep, I woke up with welts. My dermatologist recommended thick skin creams that rebuilt the skin barrier, There are thousands of chemicals in the air and the skin needs to be protected with a shield.

This is where rich moisturizing creams become essential. Look for ingredients such as ceramides, which help repair the skin barrier; hyaluronic acid, which draws water into the skin; glycerin, which locks in moisture; squalane, a lightweight oil that mimics the skin's natural lipids; niacinamide, which supports barrier function and reduces redness; and peptides, which encourage firmer-looking skin. Night creams are often richer and thicker than day creams, and can provide extra nourishment while we sleep. During the day, a broad-spectrum sunscreen with SPF 30 or higher remains the single most important anti-aging product we can use.

For women over 60, declining estrogen often means thinner skin, slower healing, and increased sensitivity. Creams that focus on barrier repair and gentle collagen support are ideal. A low-strength retinol introduced slowly, can improve texture and soften fine lines if your skin tolerates it. Men's skin, although generally thicker, also loses elasticity and moisture with age. Years of shaving can contribute to irritation, making fragrance-free moisturizers especially helpful. Regardless of gender, simpler routines often work best: a gentle cleanser, a hydrating moisturizer, sunscreen every morning, and one targeted treatment—such as a retinoid or vitamin C serum—used consistently. I usually cleanse my own makeup off with just coconut oil. I slather coconut oil and sunscreen on multiple times a day. I am in search of a makeup setting spray with a SPF 30+ that doesn't burn the eyes. That way, I can reuse the spray multiple times a day and refresh the look as well as protect my skin from the sun damage. So far, I have tried 17 brands of setting spray with sunscreen, and all have ingredients which burn my eyes!

Here are several dermatologist-recommended moisturizers that are widely available and suitable for mature skin:

CeraVe Moisturizing Cream – Excellent for very dry skin with ceramides and hyaluronic acid.
La Roche-Posay Lipikar Balm AP+M – Ideal for sensitive, itchy skin.
Vanicream Moisturizing Cream – Free of common irritants and fragrances.
Neutrogena Hydro Boost Water Gel – Lightweight hydration for normal to combination skin.
Eucerin Advanced Repair Cream – Contains ceramides and urea to soften rough skin.
Olay Regenerist Micro-Sculpting Cream – Includes niacinamide and peptides for firmer-looking skin.

Finally, remember that healthy skin starts from within. Drinking enough water, eating protein-rich foods, colorful fruits and vegetables, healthy fats, getting quality sleep, avoiding smoking, and staying physically active all support collagen production and skin repair. Aging skin doesn't need dozens of expensive products—it needs consistency, protection from the sun, and ingredients that nourish rather than irritate. With a few well-chosen creams and healthy habits, skin over 60 can remain comfortable, resilient, and radiant at every age.
Sincerely,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[Hope in a Cap]]>Mon, 13 Jul 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/hope-in-a-cap

There are certain milestones in life that arrive with fanfare, cameras, and applause, yet somehow catch us completely unprepared. Watching my youngest child walk across the UCLA graduation stage last month was one of those moments. I had imagined it for years, of course, but when the day finally arrived, I found myself sitting quietly among thousands of families, overcome by emotions I hadn't anticipated. Pride was there, certainly. Relief was there too. Beneath those familiar feelings was something deeper—a realization that an entire chapter of motherhood was gently closing before my eyes. It was fine to exhale and extend the umbilical cord a little longer, once again.

As I watched my woman-child join a sea of graduates dressed in caps and gowns, I couldn't help but see flashes of every age and stage that had led to this moment: nursing her until age 3, the first day of kindergarten, the awkward middle school years, the late-night homework sessions, the dreams that changed (so many times), the disappointments that taught resilience, the victories both large and small. Parents spend years helping their children prepare to launch, yet when the launch finally happens, it feels both sudden and impossibly long in the making. I found myself smiling through tears, grateful not only for the degree earned but for the human being my child had become.

In recent years, it has sometimes felt difficult to remain optimistic about the future. Covid 19 kept my child in her room for school and for shelter-in-place for more than half of her high school experience. The headlines often pulled our attention toward division, uncertainty, and challenges that seemed larger than any one community could solve. Yet sitting there witnessing thousands of young adults ready to begin the next chapter of their lives, I felt something bloom inside of me. I saw curiosity, compassion, intelligence, and determination reflected in their faces. More importantly, I saw it reflected in my own child. Through their eyes, the future did not look frightening. It looked full of possibility. Their generation approaches old problems with fresh thinking and asks questions my generation never even thought to ask. They are not perfect, nor should they be expected to be. My daughter and son's generation carry a willingness, a can-do attitude, a determination, a grit... to imagine something better, and then to do something different and improved in order to solve the world's problems with a fresh perspective and with creativity beyond my wildest dreams. That gives me great hope.

As the ceremony ended and families gathered for photographs and hugs, I realized that graduation was not simply a celebration of academic achievement. It was an invitation to trust, to trust that the seeds planted over years of parenting, mentoring, teaching, and loving will continue to grow long after our direct guidance is needed (but still wanted and asked for, if we are lucky). Watching my last child graduate university reminded me that every generation hands the future to the next, not with certainty, but with faith. And on that beautiful day, through the eyes of my child and her classmates, I found my faith in the future renewed. The future felt optimistic, and for that, I am deeply grateful.

Sincerely,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[Summer is a State of Mind]]>Mon, 06 Jul 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/summer-is-a-state-of-mind

Summer has somehow become a competitive sport. Scroll through social media for five minutes and you'll see rooftop parties, beach getaways, European adventures, and enough sunset photos (some of them are AI generated) to make you wonder if everyone except you received a secret invitation to the "Best Summer Ever" club. Here's a thought: what if summer isn't about doing something spectacular every single day? What if summer is less of an event schedule and more of a state of mind? Years ago my husband began a ritual of not opening up his Christmas presents on Christmas Day with the rest of us. He enjoyed the stretching out of the gift unboxing, before social media even titled it a special thing. Some years he has to be reminded in February that his birthday is coming up and we would like his Christmas gifts to be opened before his birthday! In 2024, he finished opening the last Christmas gift in June of 2025. He enjoyed the lingering of the love and efforts his family put into the gift-giving. Some food items had spoiled, of course, and I reminded him how lucky he was that we did not buy him a new pet!

Back to the Summer Mindset: Somewhere along the way, we've started measuring our summers by the number of plane tickets, parties, and picture-perfect moments we can squeeze into three short months. The reality, though, is that most of us are balancing work, responsibilities, budgets, and laundry that stubbornly refuses to fold itself. A summer afternoon with an iced coffee, a good book, and nowhere urgent to be can be just as meaningful as a passport stamp. Maybe even more so, because there's no jet lag involved.

It's also worth remembering that social media rarely shows the whole story. That dream vacation you're admiring might be the result of someone saving diligently for five or ten years. It could be the trip they've been planning since their kids were toddlers or the once-in-a-lifetime adventure they've postponed again and again. What looks like an everyday occurrence in a carefully curated feed may actually be the culmination of years of sacrifice, budgeting, and anticipation. We tend to compare our ordinary Tuesday to someone else's highlight reel, and that's a game nobody wins.

So if your summer consists of backyard dinners, evening walks, local farmers markets, or simply enjoying longer days and warmer weather, that's not a lesser version of summer. It is not a lesser version of anything. We need reminding that every day is a gift, and we may say, "Thank you," to God every day for our many blessings, surprises, loves, and gifts. Summer isn't a contest, a travel itinerary, or a requirement to be constantly entertained. It's a feeling. It's slowing down enough to notice the sunshine on your face, laughing with people you love, and finding joy in the season you're actually living—not the one someone else posted online. And honestly, that's a pretty great summer. Funnily enough, San Francisco, where I live is notorious for completely fogged out days, and cold weather. The end of September and most of October are when we usually get sunny days in the 70s. The main point I am making is that we need not ever feel less than because of comparison.

Blessings,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[A Jewess in a Christian Bible Study...]]>Mon, 29 Jun 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/a-jewess-in-a-christian-bible-study

Some of the most meaningful experiences arrive quietly through unexpected invitations. Mine came through my dentist of fifteen years, who invited me to attend a free Bible study group on Zoom. At first, I hesitated. As a Jewish woman raised in an Orthodox environment, I carried years of complicated feelings surrounding Christianity, spirituality, and especially Jesus. Growing up, even expressing curiosity about Jesus often came with shame or silence, as though admiration itself was a betrayal. Yet, something in me had always felt drawn toward learning instead of fear. So one evening, I clicked the Zoom link, listened to strangers discussing scripture with kindness and openness, and felt a surprising sense of peace settle into the room around me.

As the class unfolded week after week, I found myself reflecting on the truth that Jesus himself was Jewish—perhaps one of the greatest Jews who ever lived. That thought changed something in me. It softened the rigid walls I had inherited growing up. My Orthodox upbringing often felt restrictive, filled with rules and quiet judgment rather than emotional connection. Later in life, marrying a Catholic man opened another spiritual doorway for me. I fell in love with churches: the candles, stained glass, sacred music, and the feeling that prayer could exist through beauty, compassion, and community. While I still honor my Jewish roots deeply, I no longer believe spirituality belongs to only one tradition. Wisdom is too vast, and the human heart too curious, to live inside one narrow room forever.

What moves me most now is the realization that spirituality is ultimately about connectedness and love. Whether sitting in a synagogue, a church pew, or a virtual Bible study on Zoom, I am searching for the same thing many people are searching for: meaning, kindness, understanding, and hope. Ancient texts across religions carry echoes of humanity’s deepest questions. The Torah, the teachings of Jesus, Buddhist philosophy, mystical writings, and poetry from every culture all attempt to answer what it means to live well and love fully. I no longer feel the need to choose one wisdom tradition while rejecting another. Learning from many perspectives does not weaken faith; for me, it deepens compassion.

Life feels shorter to me now than it once did. Time moves quickly, and with age comes an urgency not rooted in fear, but fullness. I want to learn as much as I can while I am here. I want to listen to stories, read ancient wisdom, sit in sacred spaces, ask difficult questions, and share meaningful conversations with people whose experiences differ from my own. There is something profoundly human about seeking connection across traditions rather than division between them. Maybe that is the true purpose of spirituality: not building walls around truth, but opening doors toward love, understanding, and a fuller experience of being alive.

Thank you for the years of reading my thoughts and research,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[Are You Chronically Late?]]>Mon, 22 Jun 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/are-you-usually-late

Being late is often dismissed as a harmless habit, a personality trait, or simply poor time management. But in many situations, chronic lateness can function as a subtle form of power and control. When one person consistently arrives late while others wait, the message—intentional or not—is that their time is more valuable than everyone else's. It shifts the dynamic, placing the late individual at the center while forcing others to adjust their schedules, priorities, and expectations around them.

Beyond the issue of punctuality, being late can communicate a lack of respect for the time and energy of others. Every commitment involves an investment, whether it's preparing for a meeting, arranging childcare, commuting across town, or simply setting aside time in a busy day. When someone repeatedly arrives late, they disregard those investments. The impact is often greater than the minutes lost; it can create frustration, resentment, and a sense that one's efforts are not being valued.

Of course, life happens. Traffic, emergencies, unexpected delays, and competing responsibilities affect everyone at some point. The difference lies not in whether delays occur, but in how they are handled. A person who acknowledges the delay, communicates promptly, and shows consideration for those waiting demonstrates respect even when circumstances are beyond their control. Accountability matters far more than perfection.

This topic has become especially personal for me. Recently, I experienced what I can only describe as a friendship divorce with someone I had known for many years. While chronic lateness wasn't the only issue, it became a symbol of a deeper pattern. Over time, repeated delays, last-minute changes, and unmet commitments communicated something that words never did: that my time, effort, and presence were not being given the same value I extended in return. Eventually, the frustration wasn't about waiting an extra fifteen or thirty minutes—it was about what those repeated actions suggested about the relationship itself.

One of the most difficult truths about chronic lateness is that it rarely exists in isolation. It often reflects larger issues such as poor planning, unrealistic expectations, avoidance, disorganization, or a lack of awareness about how one's actions affect others. While not everyone who is habitually late intends to be disrespectful, intent and impact are not always the same thing. Relationships are shaped by how people experience our behavior, not merely by what we meant to communicate.

The good news is that chronic lateness is a habit that can be changed. The first step is recognizing it as a problem rather than a personality trait. People who struggle with punctuality can benefit from building buffers into their schedules, setting alarms earlier than they think necessary, accounting for travel time realistically, and resisting the tendency to squeeze in "just one more thing" before leaving. Small adjustments can create meaningful improvements over time.

Communication is equally important. If you know you're running behind, send a message as soon as possible rather than waiting until after the agreed-upon meeting time. Being honest about your limitations can also help. If arriving at 6:00 PM consistently feels impossible, commit to 6:30 PM instead. Realistic expectations are far more respectful than optimistic promises that repeatedly go unfulfilled.

Changing the habit of chronic lateness ultimately benefits everyone involved. The person who becomes more punctual experiences less stress, fewer rushed departures, and stronger trust in both personal and professional relationships. Those around them feel respected, valued, and considered. The result is healthier communication, fewer conflicts, and relationships built on mutual accountability rather than frustration and disappointment.

At the heart of the issue is communication. A quick message, an honest explanation, or a realistic estimate of arrival time can prevent misunderstandings and preserve trust. Strong relationships—whether personal or professional—are built on mutual respect and consideration. Being on time is one way to show that respect, but when punctuality isn't possible, clear communication becomes the next best thing. In the end, people are often willing to forgive lateness; what they struggle to forgive is feeling that their time doesn't matter.

Are you chronically late? Do you want to change? Have you lost relationships due to this habit? want to hear from you.

Sincerely,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[Is Watching Reality TV a Waste of Your Time?]]>Mon, 15 Jun 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/is-watching-reality-tv-a-waste-of-your-time

An ordinary evening can look deceptively simple: dinner dishes stacked neatly next to the sink, socks kicked off near the couch, the soft blue glow of the television filling the room, while strangers compete to become the next great singer, inventor, athlete, or overnight sensation. It is easy to criticize these moments as wasted time. Initial clinical studies on television watching and mental health often warned about excessive screen time being linked to anxiety, loneliness, reduced attention span, and depressive symptoms when viewing becomes passive or isolating. The story is more complicated than that. In more recent studies, psychologists have also found that shared entertainment, inspiration-based programming, and emotionally engaging stories can create feelings of belonging, optimism, and motivation. Maybe the question is not whether television is good or bad, but what part of the human spirit it awakens while we watch.

For me, I criticized my tween daughter watching others live their lives on YouTube while she was doing nothing with her own leisure time. I didn't get it. I also had 5 jobs and was in school at the time, always striving to learn something new and then get certified in that subject. The internet was at its beginning of content creators, and then turning themselves into inventors with brands of their own products with passions of their very own. She saw watching the YouTube videos as a learning tool, for makeup, exercise routines, testing new products so she (I), would not have to spend the money or time on them. Nowadays, with only 3 jobs, I actually have time to relax after work when I choose to, and binge watch reality shows. I also apologized to my daughter for judging her negatively during her YouTube binge watching years.

Reality competition shows, especially music, athletic, and invention programs, reveal something deeply hopeful about humanity. Watching an amateur singer step onto a stage trembling with fear only to discover a voice powerful enough to silence an entire audience reminds us that greatness often hides in ordinary people. The same is true for invention shows where creative minds solve practical problems with startling ingenuity. These programs may seem disposable on the surface, but they quietly showcase resilience, imagination, collaboration, and courage. Neuroscience studies suggest that emotionally meaningful storytelling activates mirror neurons and empathy networks in the brain, allowing viewers to emotionally experience the triumphs and struggles of others. In this way, television can become less about escape and more about connection to possibility itself.

There are evenings when I wonder if hours spent watching television could have been better spent reading, writing, or creating something tangible. Then, a young inventor presents an idea to clean polluted oceans, or a singer transforms heartbreak into art, and I feel something rare in modern life: hope. Not naïve hope, but evidence-based hope rooted in human creativity. We live in an age saturated with headlines about conflict, division, and technological fear, yet these small televised moments remind us that millions of people still wake up wanting to invent, compose, build, heal, create, and dream. The human brain remains astonishingly adaptive and imaginative. Even in entertainment, our species continues reaching for beauty and innovation.

Computers can process information faster than humans, but speed is not wisdom, intuition, or emotional meaning. Artificial intelligence can generate patterns, predict preferences, and imitate language, yet the human brain carries something far more mysterious: consciousness shaped by memory, suffering, joy, love, and imagination. A machine can analyze a melody, but it cannot feel what inspired the songwriter standing under the stage lights with tears in his or her eyes. Perhaps that is why these ordinary television evenings matter more than I usually admit. Beneath the commercial breaks and dramatic music lies a quiet reminder that humans are far smarter, kinder, and more creative than we often give ourselves credit for. Watching people sing, invent, move, and dare to never give up may not be a waste of time at all. It may be one of the ways we remember who we are becoming.

These tv shows are a reminder of our brilliance, our passions, commitments, desires, determinations, and dedications to the people and activities which we love. Remember, activities are medicine for the soul!

In Gratitude,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[What is Faith-Based Therapy?]]>Mon, 08 Jun 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/what-is-faith-based-therapy

Navigating the complexities of modern life can often leave us feeling overwhelmed, anxious, and deeply isolated. From the relentless pressure of career demands to the quiet ache of fractured relationships, today's mental health challenges require more than just quick fixes—they call for a grounding of the soul. Integrating ancient biblical wisdom with contemporary therapeutic practices offers a profound pathway to healing. By viewing the books of Psalms and Proverbs through a psychological lens, we find that these sacred texts do not just offer theological truths; they provide a raw, honest blueprint for emotional regulation, cognitive reframing, and resilience.

I fell into the faith-based therapy world by accident. When I began working in the Acute Geriatric Behavioral Health Unit, I was empathetic with my patients to the point of absorbing a lot of their stories at a visceral level. I was a good listener, and cared So, my random teary-eyed self needed to learn how to create a boundary between work-life and the rest of my being. I needed a place to vent, to put my activities and reactions into categories and boxes, figuratively speaking. On the back of my insurance card was a phone number for Behavioral Health. I called the 1800 number and they sent me a list of therapists with numbers. They said one of the therapists would call me and interview me, and I was to interview them and see if we were a good fit. I was happy with the first therapist who caled. She was very experienced in the psych work world of an in-patient acute psych ward, and in childhood trauma such as mine (molestation from ages 7-16). So we began a telehealth relationship. It has been almost a year of working together.

Only after I accepted her as my therapist did I look her up on the internet. That was the moment I first saw the phrase "faith-based therapy." The Christian organizations where she was associated with, and her company, had been active and respected for years. My therapist was a world-wide speaker on many subjects, and had published 16 therapeutic self-help books over the years. She never told me she was a faith-based therapist. She never infiltrated our secular sessions with any biblical teachings. I was curious, so after researching her professionally, I began asking questions. She knew I was Jewish. Only after I specifically asked her about ways in which ancient scriptures could assist in my modern day personal issues, did she offer any guidance in that manner.

I am learning about my Torah teachings in a new way. I never read the Old Testament and interpreted them as a youth. As an Orthodox female Jewess, I was taught to memorize Hebrew prayers and their melodies orally, being taught in Hebrew School or Sunday school, without being guided to understand any of the translations. Those discourses were reserved for the males in our synagogue. Men and women were separated in the synagogue by a glass wall during services. Females were permitted to have their Bat Mitzvahs on Sundays only, because the Shabbat was too holy for us to stand on the elevated stage, the BEEMA. That spot was only for males who were being Bar-Mitzvahed, at age 13. Females were Bat-Mitzvahed at age 12 in the Orthodox tradition. Thirteen was too special for us girls to experience, we were told. It was the age reserved for males. I was eager to learn about my tradition with a new and open perspective. I am grateful for the "accidental" therapist, and the sprinkling of biblical scripture utilized as practical ways for my questions and concerns about my emotional life. It is another wellness tool for my personal toolkit.

From a therapeutic perspective, the book of Psalms serves as an extraordinary model for emotional processing and lament. In faith-based therapy, clients are often encouraged not to suppress their difficult emotions—such as anger, grief, or despair—but to name them and bring them into the light. The Psalmists did exactly this; they did not sanitize their pain. Psalms like Psalm 13 ("How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?") mirror the therapeutic practice of somatic and emotional validation, allowing individuals to voice their deepest hurts. This raw expression, followed by an intentional shift toward remembrance and hope, mimics the cognitive-behavioral process of moving through distress rather than avoiding it, proving that faith and deep emotional vulnerability go hand in hand.

While Psalms provides the space to heal emotional wounds, the book of Proverbs acts as a manual for cognitive behavioral restructuring and behavioral activation. Proverbs is rich with practical behavioral therapy principles, focusing heavily on the power of our thoughts, words, and habits. For instance, Proverbs 4:23 admonishes us to "guard your heart above all else, for it determines the direction of your life"—a foundational concept in modern psychology, which recognizes that our core beliefs dictate our emotional and behavioral outcomes. Faith-based counselors utilize these proverbs to help clients identify cognitive distortions, cultivate mindfulness, and build healthy interpersonal boundaries, transforming ancient boundaries into actionable, modern self-care.

If you are currently walking through a season of anxiety or transition, please know that your pain is seen, and you do not have to carry it alone. Blending the spiritual comfort of Scripture with clinical therapeutic insights allows us to care for the whole person—mind, body, and spirit. As organizations like the Christian Association for Psychological Studies (CAPS) emphasize, true healing happens in community and through the integration of faith and behavioral science. Consider reaching out to a faith-based licensed professional counselor who can help you map these timeless truths onto your current struggles, taking small, compassionate steps toward a more peaceful and anchored life.

Blessings,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

Bibliography

American Association of Christian Counselors (AACC). (2014). Competency and clinical excellence in faith-based counseling: Integrating Scripture and evidence-based practice. Christian Counseling Today, 21(2), 14–18.
Christian Association for Psychological Studies (CAPS). (2020). The integration of faith and behavioral science: A therapeutic framework for clinicians. Journal of Psychology and Christianity, 39(3), 212–225.
Garzon, F., & Tilley, K. A. (2009). Doctrines of wisdom: Utilizing Proverbs in cognitive behavioral therapy. Journal of Spirituality in Mental Health, 11(4), 254–271.
Tan, S. Y. (2011). Counseling and psychotherapy: A Christian perspective. Baker Academic. (Chapter 8: Explicit integration of Scripture, prayer, and lament in inner healing).

]]><![CDATA[What is CRPS?]]>Mon, 01 Jun 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/what-is-crps

Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) is a chronic, often progressive pain condition that most commonly affects a limb after injury, surgery, stroke, or prolonged immobilization. It typically presents in the hands, arms, feet, or legs with burning pain, swelling, color and temperature changes, and movement difficulties; less commonly it can affect the face, torso, or bilateral limbs. Triggers include obvious tissue trauma (fractures, sprains), surgical procedures, infections, casts or prolonged immobilization, and sometimes more subtle triggers such as minor nerve injuries or severe emotional or physical stress. Unusual presentations and rare triggers—vaccination, minor needle punctures, or visceral disease—are reported in case studies but are uncommon.

In my case, after my two complete knee replacement surgeries, several years ago, I was healing quite well, with full yoga mobility again, but the feeling from my knees to the feet was as if I had sunburn, all of the time. When I pressed my finger on my lower legs, a white fingerprint popped up, like I had been at the beach all day without my sunscreen. After a few months of recovery after surgeries, I went to the surgeon. He told me that CRPS was common after surgery. My nervous system was overactive in those areas. Emotional turmoil can trigger flare ups or increases of symptoms if one has CRPS 24/7 like I did. I also had numbness and tingling in the outer half of my feet, bilaterally. It is 5 years post-first-knee surgery, and I still have CRPS. With my newly diagnosed hyperthyroidism, my entire body now has the skin feeling like I have a sunburn. So, the whole central nervous system is overactive, caused by my overactive thyroid. Lucky me...I'm on fire!

CRPS incidence estimates vary (roughly 5–26 new cases per 100,000 people per year) and it most often affects women, with studies showing women are 3–4 times more likely to develop CRPS than men, and peak onset occurs in middle age. Diagnosis uses clinical criteria because no single test is diagnostic; delayed diagnosis is common and contributes to poorer outcomes. The condition can cause major functional loss and comorbid mood disturbance; early recognition and a multidisciplinary plan improve chances of recovery.

Treatment is multidisciplinary and individualized: active physical and occupational therapy (graded exercise, desensitization, mirror therapy, graded motor imagery), neuropathic and multimodal medications (gabapentin, pregabalin, certain antidepressants, judicious opioids), sympathetic blocks, spinal cord stimulation, and psychological therapies (CBT, pain coping skills). Some clinics offer less‑conventional or “unusual” therapies—high-dose vitamin C prophylaxis after fracture, bisphosphonates, topical ketamine, hyperbaric oxygen, or complementary approaches (acupuncture, psychotherapy, TENS)—with variable evidence; such options are generally considered when standard treatments fail and are best delivered within specialist centers.

Intravenous ketamine is used in Australia for refractory CRPS in specialist pain services and some private clinics; protocols vary but typically involve monitored infusions (low to moderate dose infusions over hours to days, sometimes repeated or as an inpatient under anesthetic supervision). Evidence shows ketamine can reduce pain and improve function for some patients, though effects may be temporary and risks (dissociation, cardiovascular effects, bladder toxicity with long-term use) require careful screening and monitoring. If considering ketamine, seek an experienced pain specialist to discuss likely benefits, risks, setting (inpatient vs outpatient), costs, and follow‑up. (FYI: In the USA, ketamine therapy has been used for depression in an in-patient injection setting while the patient is in an acute psychiatric setting.)

If any of these signs or symptoms plague your everyday life, and affect your quality of life, seek out professional help. For me, I am doing the best I can to manage the symptoms, and distracting myself from feeling sorry for myself with large doses of mindfulness, meditation, Gabapentin, yoga, hiking, loving relationships, prayer, and laughter.

I hope this information has helped you or those you care for in any way.

In Gratitude,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

Bibliography
- Harden RN, Bruehl S, Stanton-Hicks M, Wilson PR. Proposed new diagnostic criteria: Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. Pain Medicine. 2007; (Budapest Criteria).
- de Mos M, et al. The incidence of complex regional pain syndrome: a population-based study. Pain. 2007;129(1-2):12–20.
- Bruehl S. Complex regional pain syndrome. BMJ. 2015;351:h2730 (review of epidemiology and management).
- Goebel A. Complex regional pain syndrome in adults. Rheumatology (Oxford). 2011;50(10):1739–1750.
- Maneksha GS, et al. Intravenous ketamine for CRPS: systematic reviews and clinical reports (see national pain service guidelines). Australian and international pain-management center protocols (consult local specialist services for current Australian ketamine protocols and availability).
- Harden RN, Oaklander AL, Burton AW, et al. Complex regional pain syndrome: practical diagnostic and treatment guidelines, 4th edition. Pain Med. 2013;14(2):180–229.

]]><![CDATA[It's Not About the Yogurt]]>Mon, 25 May 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/its-not-about-the-yogurt

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and I was in the grocery store. A moment caught me off guard in the middle of the dairy aisle, of all places. I was standing there staring at a wall of yogurt, overwhelmed by choices that somehow all felt exactly the same. Greek, low-fat, non-fat, high-fat, high-protein, probiotic, plant-based—every container promising a better version of me. I stood there longer than necessary, comparing labels like the decision carried real weight, like picking the “right” one might quietly fix something bigger in my life.

I immediately was transported to January of 1989, just returning from seven months living in India. I was transfixed in the cereal aisle at the grocery store near my parent's home. There were so many brands and varieties, an abundance of options, and it overwhelmed me. In India, I had lived a simple life in a small dirt-paved neighborhood, at the edge of a small city. There were no grocery stores with options like this. I froze, just staring at each box and reading the labels, admiring the art. After some time, I left empty-handed.

And then it hit me—this wasn’t about yogurt. It was about the way I’ve been approaching so many parts of my life lately, believing there’s a perfect choice if I just think hard enough, research enough, optimize enough. As if there’s always a best answer, a most correct path, and if I miss it, I’ve somehow fallen short. Standing there in that fluorescent-lit aisle, I realized how exhausting that mindset is—how it turns even the smallest decisions into quiet pressure.

Back in '89, when I mused upon my American life of consumption, gluttonous ideals, and in-your face marketing, I felt a guilt of sorts. Who am I to have all these choices at my fingertips? What did I do to deserve this? I felt a sense of responsibility to make the "right" choice in the cereal aisle, as if there were internal judgements happening just under the surface of my consciousness. It was all too much to bear as I was assimilating back into the American lifestyle.

On that Saturday, many years later and after many experiences had, I learned lessons in my lifetime. So I reached out, grabbed one without overthinking it, and put it in my cart. Not because it was the best option, but because it was good enough. And oddly, that felt like a small act of rebellion. A loosening. A reminder that most choices don’t carry the weight I assign them, and that constantly searching for perfection can quietly steal the ease out of everyday living.

As I walked away, cartwheels rattling slightly beneath me, I felt lighter. The a-ha moment wasn’t about lowering standards or not caring—it was about trusting myself a little more, about recognizing that life isn’t a series of perfect selections but a collection of lived moments. And sometimes, peace looks like choosing the yogurt and moving on.

In Gratitude,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[My Thyroid Journey]]>Mon, 18 May 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/my-thyroid-journey

For ten years, it felt like I had an understanding with my thyroid. Living with Hypothyroidism meant I knew the rhythm—low energy, a slower metabolism, that lingering brain fog that no amount of coffee quite fixes. I had my routine, my medication, my expectations. Then something shifted. Not gradually in a way I could ignore, but in a way that made me stop and pay attention. My skin started to feel like it was burning to the touch, I was running to the bathroom constantly, sleep became almost impossible, and I’d wake up every hour with cramps in my calves, shins, and hamstrings. And underneath it all was this wired, restless feeling I didn’t recognize—one that started to look a lot like the opposite of what I’d been managing all these years, brushing up against symptoms of Hyperthyroidism.

What helped me make sense of it was understanding, in simple terms, what my thyroid actually does. It’s part of the Endocrine system—basically my body’s communication network for hormones. My thyroid produces Thyroxine and Triiodothyronine, which act like messengers telling my body how fast or slow to run. These hormones influence everything—my heart rate, how I use energy, digestion, body temperature, even my mood. And then there’s Thyroid-stimulating hormone, which comes from the brain and helps regulate the whole system. When it’s balanced, I feel like myself. When it’s not, it shows up everywhere—in ways that are hard to ignore. My mother had thyroid cancer when she was 51 years old, so I am more aware than most folks about the symptoms and when to see a doctor.

In my case, the shift wasn’t as dramatic as it first felt—it was more of a tipping point after years of stability. As I’ve gotten older, my body has changed. The dose of medication that worked for a decade may have quietly become too much. I also learned that conditions like Hashimoto’s thyroiditis can evolve over time, and in some cases even overlap with things like Graves’ disease. It reminded me that this isn’t a “set it and forget it” situation. My thyroid needs ongoing attention, small adjustments, and a willingness to notice when something feels off—even when it doesn’t match the symptoms I’m used to.

The turning point for me was listening to my body and actually following up with labs. A TSH test, along with T3 and T4 levels, helped explain what I was feeling. And thankfully, the fix wasn’t complicated—it came down to adjusting my dose of Levothyroxine and being more mindful about how I take it. The bigger realization—the real aha—was this: my thyroid health isn’t fixed, and that’s okay. It’s something I stay in conversation with over time. Paying attention, checking in, and making small changes has helped me move back toward that steadier place, where sleep comes easier, my body feels calmer, and I’m not fighting against it every hour of the night.

I hope this has helped you in any way.
Peace, out,
KJ Landis

Bibliography
American Thyroid Association. Thyroid Function Tests.
Garber, J. R., et al. Clinical Practice Guidelines for Hypothyroidism in Adults. Endocrine Practice.
Mayo Clinic Staff. Hypothyroidism and Hyperthyroidism Overview. Mayo Clinic.
National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases (NIDDK). Thyroid Disease Information.
Brent, Gregory A. Mechanisms of Thyroid Hormone Action. Journal of Clinical Investigation.

]]><![CDATA[Small, Medium, Large, or Peaceful?]]>Mon, 11 May 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/small-medium-large-or-peaceful

For so many of us humans, being thin wasn’t just a preference—it was practically a full-time job. I was born n 1965, and grew up absorbing glossy images from magazines, watching impossibly sculpted bodies on screens, and quietly measuring myself against standards that were never designed to be met. The financial world had the 99% and the 1%. So did the entertainment, beauty, and fashion industry. Somewhere along the way, thinness became tangled up with worthiness. Even some job opportunities were measured upon the weight on the scale. I counted calories like currency, negotiated with mirrors, and told myself that happiness lived just five or ten pounds away. It wasn’t vanity—it was survival in a culture that kept moving the finish line. As an obese child from about age five through about thirteen, I heard my parents' friends and my large extended family members say at celebrations, "Such a pretty face. If only she lost the weight, she would be beautiful." They unashamedly stated these sentences aloud to my parents and to each other, gossiping as if I were not in the room, the ballroom, the synagogue, the picnic. I know I am not alone.

My mother put me on the same diets she tried as an adult, garnished from magazines and not from the doctors' office. On the flip side of that, food equaled love in my family. I was loved a lot. If we kids ate our entire meal, we were given a reward of dessert, at every meal. For each "A" made on our report card, we earned either a dime or a trip to the ice cream and candy store. Love, food, education, and status within the family were all too muddled. At age twelve, my mother took me to an endocrinologist, a nutritionist, and a heart doctor. My cholesterol was off the charts. One of the doctors stated to my mother in an accusing tone, "Your daughter is liable to have a heart attack within the next two years at these levels of results." I also had chronic pain in my lower back, no formal sports or exercise routine, and loved to read for hours at a time, nestled in my bed.

We then went on the education and guidance journey with dieticians, nutritionists, and a with a calorie counting book found in every grocery store and pharmacy. I was taught to do sit ups for protecting my lower back, and taught to do jumping jacks and jump rope for cardio exercise. I had to keep a food diary daily for years. From age twelve to fourteen, I lost forty pounds and grew eight inches. I memorized the calorie counting values assigned to each food in that little book. It was like a bible to me.

Fast forward forty years. Time, in its steady and unapologetic way, shifted the conversation. The goalposts moved. Suddenly it wasn’t about thigh gaps or flat stomachs—it was about gravity, wondering when everything started heading south and if there was any way to politely ask it to stop. My social circle traded in our obsession with the scale for a new kind of vigilance: posture, strength, the quiet panic of a sneeze that requires strategic planning. Our mammaries, once scrutinized for size, seemed to be in a slow migration downward towards the knees. And the pelvic floor? No one warned us it would one day demand as much attention as our waistlines once did. My girlfriends, female cousins, and I joked about these issues to cover up our internal fear.

Fast forward ten more years. Even that phase, with all its indignities and humor, didn’t last forever. If we’re lucky, truly lucky, something softer begins to take root. The urgency fades. The constant self-evaluation and self-deprecation loosens its grip. We begin to see our bodies less as problems to fix and more as miraculous companions that have carried us—through love, loss, childbirth, heartbreak, body break, healing, and everything in between. The lines, the softness, the changes I resisted for so long at the beginning of my life started to feel like markings of a life actually lived, not one spent chasing approval. I was able to guide others towards their better selves with my personal experiences and lessons learned from them.

And then, almost unexpectedly, peace arrived. Not the loud, triumphant kind, but a quiet acceptance that settled in my bones, literally and figuratively. With eight major surgeries, replaced body parts, and titanium and steel as my new BBFs (body's best friends), I began to appreciate my body not as a project, but as an artistic vessel—imperfect, evolving, and deeply human. I moved differently, thought differently, and even looked at myself in the mirror differently. The flaws did not disappear, but they lost their power. What remained is something far more valuable: a sense of home within myself. After all those years of striving, that might have been the most beautiful transformation of all. I loved myself into a better existence.

I invite you to do the same. Love yourself into a better existence, whatever that means to you.

In Gratitude,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[An Ordinary Saturday...]]>Mon, 04 May 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/an-ordinary-saturday

It was late afternoon on a Saturday, just after a rain shower, much needed in drought-ridden Northern California—the kind that doesn’t quite commit to evening yet. It was the in-between hour, where the light shifted almost without me noticing as it stretched across the living room floor, turning everything a little softer around the edges. In my home, we call that the golden time of day.

I wasn’t doing anything particularly meaningful, just folding laundry. An ordinary pile of tee-shirts, leggings, pajamas, and socks somehow made it back together, along with a sweatshirt that I wore more than I'd like to admit, part of my yoga days' uniform. This was the kind of task I usually rushed through or paired with something else—music, a podcast, watching a show on my cell phone, anything to make it feel less like another mundane chore (that one day would have humans replaced with inexpensive robots doing my housework).

But today, it held my attention. There was something quietly grounding about folding the clothes: the repetition of it, the way each piece seemed to ask for just enough care—smooth this out, line that up, stack it neatly. It wasn't exciting, but it wasn't boring or unnoticeable either.

I noticed how warm everything still felt as I carried the bundle up from the basement, not using the laundry basket on purpose, because I enjoyed the warm clothes heating up my torso as I hugged all of the bits close to my belly and chest, and also because the laundry pile carried a trace of the dryer aromas within it. I observed how the fabric changed depending upon what it was—some soft and worn, others still holding onto a bit of structure. I thought about how often I moved through my daily routines and rituals without actually observing and acknowledging them, without letting them register for a moment.

I spend a lot of time teaching others how to practice and process mindfulness daily, to observe the present moment through movement or meditative practices, yet not stopping the internal race long enough or often enough to do the same for myself. We humans often think life is somewhere else, in bigger plans, in future versions, in activities, in relationships, and in material things that haven’t manifested yet.

But here I was, on a late Saturday afternoon, folding a shirt I’ve worn a hundred times, and for a moment my life felt… complete. There was no swelling orchestra, no grand, cinematic activity. There was a mountain of laundry, quietly finished. This small act had a beginning, a middle, and an end—and I was actually present for all of it.

It made me realize how rarely I let things be enough just on their own. I’m always layering meaning on top of moments, or worse, diminishing or dismissing them entirely because they don’t seem meaningful enough. It was when I left the USA for years and traveled to other countries for work and pleasure that I thoughtfully absorbed each experience of each day with gusto, thirst, patience, and appreciation. Maybe meaning isn’t something we add on to each experience of each day. Maybe it is something that shows up when we finally stop trying to get past where we are.

By the time I finished the laundry, the light had shifted again. The room looked different, even though nothing had really changed. The folded stacks sat there—quiet proof that something had been done, cared for, completed. I was a success, a yes, an accomplishment, in that small house task. I didn’t feel behind, hurried, or like I needed to be somewhere else.

It wasn’t a big moment, but it didn’t feel small either.

Thank you for reading this.
Sincerely,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[The Exhale]]>Mon, 27 Apr 2026 08:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/the-exhale

There are moments in life when a single word carries the weight of months—sometimes years—of stress. For us, that word was “approved.” After four long months of phone calls, appeals, resubmitted paperwork, second opinions, and more time on hold than I care to admit, the insurance company finally said "yes." Yes, they would cover his surgery. Yes, they would allow it at the out-of-network facility we knew was the right place. I didn’t cry right away. It was more like my whole body exhaled at once, a quiet, full-body surrender after being clenched tightly for far too long.

The days leading up to surgery felt surreal, like we had almost crossed an invisible finish line only to find another one waiting. There was relief, yes—but also fear, anticipation, and that strange calm that settles in when you know something big is coming towards you and there’s no turning back. The morning of the surgery, just two hours before the scheduled surgery check-in was to occur at a hospital almost an hour away from our home, we received the final phone call with a "yes."

From that moment on, we raced off to fight the morning rush-hour traffic. We were moving quickly, but oddly enough, everything felt as if we were moving in slow motion.

Hospital lights are always a little too bright, the air a little too cold. After hours waiting in the preoperative bay, I watched him get wheeled away, offering a smile that I hoped looked reassuring, holding back the tidal wave of what-ifs that tried to creep in. It’s a particular kind of helplessness, loving someone and having to hand them over to strangers in scrubs and trust that they’ll bring him back to me, fixed up. It was reminded of the children's nursey rhyme of Humpty Dumpty, but with a better ending. I could not bring myself to leave the area, and wandered around the unfamiliar city of Fremont for hours.

When the surgeon finally came out and called me with the words “everything went well,” it felt like a second, deeper exhale—the one I didn’t realize I was holding even tighter than the first. Relief washed in, but it was layered with exhaustion, gratitude, and a kind of emotional whiplash. After months of fighting, advocating, and pushing, suddenly there was nothing to fight. Those words were replaced with recovery, healing, and the quiet, steady work of putting one foot in front of the other again, literally and figuratively. I bought myself a hot chai at a beautifully decorated Indian cafe, walked back to my car and drove home to feed the cats their dinner.

And that’s where a different role began—the one no one really prepared me for. Caretaking isn’t glamorous. It’s medication schedules, watching for signs of pain, helping him sit up, adjusting the pillows under his legs, bringing ice packs every few hours, making sure he eats, sleeps, and heals. Caretaking was being strong while I was still tired myself, being patient when both of us were energetically stretched thin. But it’s also deeply human. There’s a closeness in these moments, a tenderness in the ordinary acts of care. Both of us slept at least 12 hours those first two nights at home from the hospital.

After everything it took to get there, showing up for him in this way didn’t feel like a burden—it felt like the quiet privilege of loving someone for decades, through the hardest parts and finally, finally, moving towards something better, together.

With love,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[Lessons from the Kitchen Sink]]>Mon, 20 Apr 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/lessons-from-the-kitchen-sink

This morning I almost cried over a coffee mug, not because of anything dramatic. It was just because it slipped.

I was standing in my kitchen, at the sink, still in my pajamas, the light barely coming through the San Francisco fog outside. The house was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the low, grumpy gurgle of the espresso maker warming up the water. I remember thinking how that sound felt like permission to start the day. I reached for my favorite mug—the chipped white one with the faded red rim—and my hand was still damp from washing it. It slid. Not a cinematic crash. Just a dull clunk against the counter, a wobble, and then—down.

It didn’t shatter. But the handle snapped clean off.

I stood there staring at it on the kitchen floor, heart thudding like I’d dropped something irreplaceable. Which, I guess, I had. It’s the mug I use when I need comfort. It's the one that fits perfectly in my hand, the one that has witnessed deadlines, grief, laughter, illness, recovery, love, and those early mornings when I had to convince myself to try again.

I actually said, out loud, “Oh, come on,” like the universe had personally targeted my coffee ritual.

In the house next door, I heard someone start the shower and flush the toilet. I heard pipes rattling, a constant reminder that all the houses in our neighborhood touch one another on both sides. A car alarm chirped outside. Life continued, unimpressed with my small tragedy. I crouched down, picked up the mug in one hand and the broken handle in the other. The break was clean, almost neat. For a second I considered gluing it. For another second, I felt ridiculous for even caring this much. It's a mug...

What happened next is what surprised me: I suddenly realized that I wasn’t upset about the mug. I realized that I was ever so tired. The kind of tired that sneaks up quietly. The past 4 months of writing the insurance companies letters and contacting COOs and state health departments in order to reverse my husband's denied surgery coverage was wearing me down slowly. The broken handle just cracked open that feeling.

So I made a choice. I poured the coffee into a plain glass instead, a clear bartender's shaking glass. It felt wrong—too hot to hold comfortably, too transparent. I could see the swirl of cream settling. I wrapped both hands around it anyway and stood by the living room window.

The fog was lifting a little. The sky was slowly deciding to be blue. I realized something small but steady: the coffee still tasted the same. The day didn’t collapse. The world didn’t punish me for breaking something. I can lose a handle and still hold what matters most closest to my heart.

I rinsed the broken mug pieces and set them on the counter. Maybe I’ll glue it. Maybe I won’t. Either way, I drank my coffee. I breathed in the steam. I watched the light change, and I carried on with my day, with my head up.

Ordinary morning.

One broken handle.

And somehow, a tiny reminder that I’m allowed to be fragile and still function.

That felt like enough.

Sincerely,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

]]><![CDATA[Swollen Eyelids? Don't Panic...]]>Mon, 13 Apr 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/swollen-eyelids-dont-panic

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror the other day, and—wait, what? One eyelid was suddenly swollen, like it showed up to the day before the rest of my face had a chance to vote on it. It felt a little tender, and in pain, throbbing. Other eye issues may include feeling itchy, or just heavy and off. Sometimes there’s mild redness or watering, and occasionally that annoying gritty sensation, like something is stuck in the eye. The strangest part is how it’s just one eye, perfectly mismatched with the other, which is carrying on like nothing happened.

The good news is that a swollen single eyelid is usually caused by something pretty common and manageable. A blocked oil gland can lead to a stye or chalazion (a small cyst), both of which are more annoying than dangerous. Allergies are another frequent culprit, especially as our bodies become a bit more sensitive over time. Even a tiny irritant—makeup residue, skincare products, or rubbing the eye too hard—can trigger swelling. And yes, sometimes it’s as simple as fluid retention or even a small insect bite in the most inconvenient place possible. As we get older, the skin around our eyes becomes thinner and more delicate, so it doesn’t take much to create a visible reaction.

Most of the time, one can manage this at home without too much fuss. A warm compress applied gently to the eye for about 10–15 minutes can help if a gland is blocked, while a cool compress may soothe swelling caused by allergies or irritation. It’s wise to skip eye makeup for a few days and keep hands away from the area, even though that’s easier said than done. Gentle cleansing of the eyelid with diluted baby shampoo or pre-moistened lid wipes can also help. Staying hydrated and getting enough rest gives the body a better chance to settle things down naturally, which it often does within a few days.

That said, it’s important to know when to take things a step further. If the swelling becomes more painful, starts to interfere with vision, or is accompanied by fever or spreading redness, it’s time to contact a doctor. The same goes if the swelling doesn’t improve after a few days or keeps coming back. While most cases are harmless, infections or more serious conditions do happen and require proper medical treatment. Trust your instincts—if something feels off beyond a simple irritation, it’s always worth getting it checked out.

Sincerely,
KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

Bibliography:
American Academy of Ophthalmology. Eye Health: Swollen Eyelids. American Academy of Ophthalmology, 2023.
Mayo Clinic Staff. Stye (Sty) and Chalazion. Mayo Foundation for Medical Education and Research, 2022.
Cleveland Clinic. Swollen Eyelid: Causes and Treatment. Cleveland Clinic Foundation, 2023.
National Eye Institute. Common Eye Conditions and Symptoms. U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, 2022.

]]><![CDATA[Catatonia versus Coma]]>Mon, 06 Apr 2026 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/catatonia-versus-coma

Catatonia vs. Coma: What’s the Difference, Really?
If you’ve ever heard the terms catatonia and coma used interchangeably, you’re not alone—but they’re actually very different conditions. On the surface, both can look similar: a person may be still, unresponsive, and unable to communicate. But what’s going on inside the brain and body is completely different. Understanding that difference can be incredibly important, especially in medical settings where the right diagnosis can change everything about treatment and recovery. If you are the loved one of someone suffering from either, you need to have some information to be an advocate for your loved one's health.

Catatonia is a neuropsychiatric condition, often linked to severe mental health disorders like depression, bipolar disorder, or schizophrenia—but it can also show up in medical illnesses. Someone with catatonia might not move, speak, or respond, but here’s the key: they are not unconscious. In some cases, they are aware of their surroundings but feel “stuck,” unable to act. Others may show unusual movements, like holding a rigid pose for long periods or mimicking speech and gestures. The good news? Catatonia is often treatable, sometimes dramatically so, with medications like benzodiazepines or even electroconvulsive therapy (ECT).

A coma, on the other hand, is a true state of unconsciousness. The brain is not processing the world in a meaningful way, and the person cannot be awakened. Comas are usually caused by physical injury or illness—think traumatic brain injury, stroke, lack of oxygen, or severe infections. Unlike catatonia, where the brain’s “motor system” is essentially frozen, a coma reflects a deeper level of brain dysfunction. Recovery can vary widely: some people wake up, some transition into other states of consciousness, and others may not recover at all.

So while both conditions may look like stillness from the outside, they live on very different ends of the medical spectrum. Catatonia is often reversible and tied to psychiatric or systemic conditions, while coma is a critical neurological emergency. The takeaway? Stillness doesn’t always mean unconsciousness—and assuming so can delay life-changing treatment. In healthcare, especially in settings like geriatric or psychiatric care, recognizing catatonia can be the difference between a patient being “written off” and one who gets their life back.

I hope this has helped you in any way.
Sincerely, KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

Bibliography

American Psychiatric Association. Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5-TR).
Fink, M., & Taylor, M. A. (2003). Catatonia: A Clinician’s Guide to Diagnosis and Treatment. Cambridge University Press.
Cleveland Clinic. “Catatonia: Symptoms, Causes, and Treatment.”
National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS). “Coma Information Page.”
Mayo Clinic. “Coma: Symptoms and Causes.”

]]><![CDATA[Polarizing Times]]>Mon, 30 Mar 2026 07:30:00 GMThttps://www.superiorselfwithkjlandis.com/blog/polarizing-times

We are living in a time when it can feel like the emotional temperature of the country is set to “boiling.” Cable news shouts. Social media amplifies outrage. Family dinners can turn into debate stages. Whether you lean left, right, center, or feel politically homeless, the constant friction can seep into your nervous system. Managing day-to-day life in a divided nation isn’t about pretending differences don’t exist. It’s about protecting your peace while still participating in society with integrity.

First, we have to manage our inputs. The 24-hour news cycle, fueled by outlets like Fox News and CNN, is designed to keep us engaged — and heightened. Add the algorithmic intensity of Facebook or X, and it becomes easy to confuse constant exposure with civic responsibility. It’s not. Curate your media diet the same way you would your food. Set specific times to check news. Diversify sources. Turn off notifications. Your brain deserves intervals of quiet so it can metabolize information instead of living in perpetual fight-or-flight.

Second, tend to your immediate ecosystem. Polarization thrives in abstraction; connection grows in proximity. The person bagging your groceries, your walking buddy, your neighbor who waters your plants — these are real human beings, not avatars of ideology. You don’t have to agree on everything to exchange kindness. Small acts of civility are not trivial; they are stabilizing forces. Research in social psychology consistently shows that interpersonal contact reduces hostility and increases empathy. When national rhetoric feels dehumanizing, doubling down on local humanity becomes a form of resistance.

Finally, ground yourself in daily rituals that reinforce agency. Cook a meal. Move your body. Call a friend who makes you laugh. Volunteer for a cause aligned with your values. Division often makes us feel powerless, but meaningful action — even small action — restores a sense of control. You cannot single-handedly repair the political climate, but you can regulate your nervous system, strengthen your relationships, and live your values consistently. In divided times, stability is not found in winning arguments; it’s built quietly, day by day, in how we choose to show up.

In Gratitude, KJ Landis
@superiorself on Instagram and X
@SuperiorSelf channel on YouTube
@superiorselfwithkjlandis on TikTok
kjlinsf@hotmail.com
Books available everywhere!

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