Top image: Spring blossoms in my neighborhood
Mental Health Boosts That Don't Feel Like Homework
- by Beverly Nelson
About the author:
Beverly Nelson is the creator of Stand Up For Caregivers, which aims to help protect and advocate for the health and well-being of adult caregivers.
Beverly Nelson is the creator of Stand Up For Caregivers, which aims to help protect and advocate for the health and well-being of adult caregivers.
Image credit: Tom Frambach (Demonstrating a gesture (hasta) at the YM&YWHA in Inwood, uptown Manhattan
You’re tired of hearing the same old advice. Drink more water, journal your feelings, call your mom. It’s not that those things don’t help; they just sound like chores when your brain already feels heavy. You want a spark. Something offbeat, maybe even a little strange, that can shake you out of the funk and into some version of better. That version might look different for everyone, but the path to it could be more inventive than you’d think.
Picture it first
What if you didn’t move a muscle but still trained your brain for joy? Visualization works like rehearsal, just with no audience and no stage. Close your eyes and imagine the version of you that finishes the run, nails the presentation, forgives that person, eats that fruit. There’s evidence that this kind of imagery triggers similar brain patterns to real-life action, helping build emotional resilience by proxy. You start to believe in that future version because you’ve already met them. Even five minutes a day makes the difference between passive worry and active intention.
Walk quietly
You’ve probably walked before. But have you walked without headphones, phone, dog, or destination? The oddly hypnotic practice of silent walking is part mindfulness, part rebellion. No agenda, just legs moving, ears open. You’ll feel fidgety and stupid for the first ten minutes. Then something inside cracks open, and the ambient noise of the world starts to feel like a lullaby instead of a siren. Your thoughts untangle. Or at least, they get bored and float off.
Wildness heals
Skip the yoga studio. Go feral. You weren’t designed to sit at a desk or count macros—you were built for hills, dirt, and breath. There’s a quiet movement growing around nature-based mindfulness retreats, where the point isn’t wellness as performance, but reconnection as instinct. You eat outdoors, sleep where animals once roamed, feel yourself decay and bloom all at once. There's no formal therapy, but you’re held in something older than language. You don’t come back fixed, just reminded.
Learn your way out
Sometimes your brain needs a whole new operating system. If your job drains you, your relationships feel stale, or you dread Mondays, that’s not a you-problem; it might be a life-path problem. Going back to school can be a kind of reawakening, especially now that online programs let you do it in pajamas with coffee. Whether you're eyeing a master's degree in business or wish to pursue a career in behavioral science, options abound. An online degree comes with the bonus of flexibility, letting you study when you feel most alert, not when the clock says so.
Redesign your misery
If you can’t escape your house, change how it talks to you. There’s a new aesthetic ideology creeping into homes called lemonading—not a drink, a vibe. The lemonading mindset at home means surrounding yourself with objects that serve no function other than to delight. A tiny disco ball in your bathroom. A candle shaped like fruit. Towels that look like cake frosting. It’s frivolous on purpose, a design choice that says "yes, this is ridiculous, and yes, it makes me smile." Tiny, irrational pleasures stack up like armor against the day.
Look menopause in the face
Menopause. There, we said it. Hormonal shifts mess with mental health in ways society still whispers about, but there’s a quiet revolution happening. Menopause care is moving out of the shadows, and with it, a new wave of support—both clinical and cultural—is blooming. Tracking symptoms, testing hormone levels, or simply naming the phase you're in can offer enormous relief. This isn’t about solving anything, but about being believed. That alone is a balm.
What Grandma could’ve made
You’ve seen the memes, maybe even rolled your eyes. Crochet, puzzles, sourdough starters, grandma-core. But it’s not a joke—it’s salvation. There’s deep, steady joy in engaging in cozy, creative pastimes, the kind that ask your hands to move and your brain to rest. Not everything has to be productive. Not everything needs to lead to a career or side hustle or glow-up. Sometimes it just needs to feel good, slowly and quietly and reliably.
Mental health isn’t a finish line, it’s an ongoing experiment. What works today might flop tomorrow, and that’s fine. The trick is staying curious, not obedient. Routine is great, but ritual is better—it implies soul. Try new things, fail fast, laugh when it flops, then try again. There are a million ways to feel more alive, and none of them come with a certificate.
Picture it first
What if you didn’t move a muscle but still trained your brain for joy? Visualization works like rehearsal, just with no audience and no stage. Close your eyes and imagine the version of you that finishes the run, nails the presentation, forgives that person, eats that fruit. There’s evidence that this kind of imagery triggers similar brain patterns to real-life action, helping build emotional resilience by proxy. You start to believe in that future version because you’ve already met them. Even five minutes a day makes the difference between passive worry and active intention.
Walk quietly
You’ve probably walked before. But have you walked without headphones, phone, dog, or destination? The oddly hypnotic practice of silent walking is part mindfulness, part rebellion. No agenda, just legs moving, ears open. You’ll feel fidgety and stupid for the first ten minutes. Then something inside cracks open, and the ambient noise of the world starts to feel like a lullaby instead of a siren. Your thoughts untangle. Or at least, they get bored and float off.
Wildness heals
Skip the yoga studio. Go feral. You weren’t designed to sit at a desk or count macros—you were built for hills, dirt, and breath. There’s a quiet movement growing around nature-based mindfulness retreats, where the point isn’t wellness as performance, but reconnection as instinct. You eat outdoors, sleep where animals once roamed, feel yourself decay and bloom all at once. There's no formal therapy, but you’re held in something older than language. You don’t come back fixed, just reminded.
Learn your way out
Sometimes your brain needs a whole new operating system. If your job drains you, your relationships feel stale, or you dread Mondays, that’s not a you-problem; it might be a life-path problem. Going back to school can be a kind of reawakening, especially now that online programs let you do it in pajamas with coffee. Whether you're eyeing a master's degree in business or wish to pursue a career in behavioral science, options abound. An online degree comes with the bonus of flexibility, letting you study when you feel most alert, not when the clock says so.
Redesign your misery
If you can’t escape your house, change how it talks to you. There’s a new aesthetic ideology creeping into homes called lemonading—not a drink, a vibe. The lemonading mindset at home means surrounding yourself with objects that serve no function other than to delight. A tiny disco ball in your bathroom. A candle shaped like fruit. Towels that look like cake frosting. It’s frivolous on purpose, a design choice that says "yes, this is ridiculous, and yes, it makes me smile." Tiny, irrational pleasures stack up like armor against the day.
Look menopause in the face
Menopause. There, we said it. Hormonal shifts mess with mental health in ways society still whispers about, but there’s a quiet revolution happening. Menopause care is moving out of the shadows, and with it, a new wave of support—both clinical and cultural—is blooming. Tracking symptoms, testing hormone levels, or simply naming the phase you're in can offer enormous relief. This isn’t about solving anything, but about being believed. That alone is a balm.
What Grandma could’ve made
You’ve seen the memes, maybe even rolled your eyes. Crochet, puzzles, sourdough starters, grandma-core. But it’s not a joke—it’s salvation. There’s deep, steady joy in engaging in cozy, creative pastimes, the kind that ask your hands to move and your brain to rest. Not everything has to be productive. Not everything needs to lead to a career or side hustle or glow-up. Sometimes it just needs to feel good, slowly and quietly and reliably.
Mental health isn’t a finish line, it’s an ongoing experiment. What works today might flop tomorrow, and that’s fine. The trick is staying curious, not obedient. Routine is great, but ritual is better—it implies soul. Try new things, fail fast, laugh when it flops, then try again. There are a million ways to feel more alive, and none of them come with a certificate.