When I was around sixteen, there was tremendous pressure on account of
academics so that I could get the career path that would set me up for life.
Alongside, there were incessant showdowns with my mother—the usual testing of
boundaries (and often, insubordination).
One particularly bad day, frustration boiled over. I was sulking in my
room, expecting Papa to soothe me as he often did. Instead, he walked in, calm
as ever, and handed me a single sheet of paper and a pencil.
“Write it down,” he said.
“What’s the point? There are too many problems for one page,” I
muttered.
“Start anyway. Put them on the left side of the page.”
I sighed and began scribbling. Within minutes, my avalanche of problems
looked surprisingly small. Half the list was duplicates. Seeing it on paper
stripped the drama in my head away.
Papa leaned over. “Now mark the ones you can fix yourself.”
The list shrank again. Suddenly, I was left with only a handful of
issues truly beyond my control.
Papa smiled. “This is how you tackle overwhelm. First, identify exactly
what’s bothering you. Next, work on what you can change. Finally, seek help for
what’s left.”
That sheet of paper became my first real lesson in problem solving. When
life feels too heavy, start by writing down the problems. Handle what you can.
Only then reach out for support. It’s simple, but it works—and it’s stayed with
me ever since.
