Mind Opener

by Gail Heney | Jul 8, 2026 | Intrepid Challenge, Weekly Musings

In mid-June, I joined an old friend and mental health advocate in an interview about my personal journey through alcoholism to my life in sobriety. His questions took me deep, quickly.

While we have known each other for many years, our paths rarely crossed, and our conversations were superficial. When our cursory chats turned to his work in raising awareness around mental health challenges, we found our common ground.

In my early career, I was an Occupational Therapist. I worked in both long-term and acute care psychiatric facilities.  Witnessing the frailty and truth about mental illness in all its conditions, diseases and manifestations opened my mind and my heart. It is through my own addiction that I understand emotional death, the power of radical honesty and self-reflection, and the vital role of supportive relationships and community.

There has been societal progress in understanding and accepting the reality of mental illness. Not enough. I respect the traditions of 12 Step Recovery groups, and yet I choose to break my anonymity as a recovering alcoholic if I feel it will help someone or challenge the stigma that still exists.

Please take a few minutes to listen to the podcast – No Magic Bullet. Bobby K’s questions excavate radical honesty, personal growth lessons and the necessity of deep connections.

Edna

by Gail Heney | Apr 21, 2026 | Intrepid Challenge, Weekly Musings

Advice to “let it go” or “let them” triggers a resistance within me. It travels from deep in my belly up to my brain. My annoyance is further exacerbated by the speed-talking nasal drone of a particular podcaster. She uses examples of toxic, hurtful and disempowering behaviours as throwaways . . . you’ll feel better once you’ve decided to just let them.  It is not in my DNA to ignore, enable or otherwise push down or aside something that has grabbed my attention. Years ago, in a therapy session, I commiserated that I had been told, books had been written, and wise people preached the gospel of letting go. You can’t do that; you crave connection. She had seen me, given me permission to buck the trend of “Hakuna Matata”.

Last week I attended a spiritual retreat focused on yoga, meditation and breathwork. The jungle setting was a kaleidoscope of thick green, with views of the blue Pacific, frothy white waves and an endless sand beach. Each day, we lay on mats listening to music and chants that seeped into my soul. I heard words and mantras that challenged my stories and moved my muscles and bones gently beyond their normal limits. My mind, body and spirit were in constant states of peaceful insights and resets. Bobbing in the warm ocean as we watched the sunset each evening reminded me of my humble insignificance in the vastness of the land and sea.

I had arrived at the retreat with the intention of silencing my inner critic. Her name is Edna. I’ve written about her, to her and at her for years. She holds the strategies and energy that diminish and detach me from myself. She tells me what to do to please others, be better, do more, fix my body, hair, clothes, and home, and try to be worthy of attention and affection. She exhausts me.

There is a common saying when doing inner work. You might not get what you want, you will always get what you need.

Edna is not leaving me. I didn’t come back with her eulogy written out. Over the course of the week, I discovered that she lives in my subconscious. This is a space of muted colours and constant flow and movement. It manages 95% of my behaviours and habits. It is the keeper of my comfort zones, past experiences and beliefs. It holds my long-term memories. With mindfulness, meditation, writing, and other tools for emotional growth, I can lay down new neural pathways. I have the capacity to shift my beliefs and patterns. To recognize the voice of Edna without buying into her diatribe.

While exploring my childhood and emotional evolution, I discovered that Edna played a significant role in keeping me safe and moving me forward and seeking success. She was the driver for me to get attention from my father, to challenge the boys club and glass ceiling in the corporate world, to take risks and seek power.  By reminding me that I wasn’t enough, she made me work harder, faster and longer. At everything.

Recognizing and respecting her place in my psyche, while trusting myself and leaning into being authentic and compassionate, frees me of her disparaging nature. When I’m stressed or tired, and she sneaks a peek and comments, I don’t have to attach to it or even believe it. The Buddhist teacher, Pema Chodron, advises we examine and move through both the unpleasant and pleasant.

Loving all pieces of me is my Intrepid Challenge.