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A Day in My Life – Part 3

  • Writer: Ersin Pamuksuzer
    Ersin Pamuksuzer
  • 2 days ago
  • 4 min read

Dear Readers,


In this edition, we’ll explore a day with a somewhat scattered rhythm, one of those days that’s a bit all over the place, as they so often are these days—reflecting on both our eating habits and our emotional state.

Let’s begin in the morning.

Each night we metaphorically say goodbye to the day that has passed, and each morning we are reborn with the dawn of a fresh day. In short, how we greet the morning and bid farewell to the evening matters deeply.

Daytime is when we engage with the world. Nighttime is when we renew ourselves and prepare for what’s to come.

 

"Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most." — The Buddha

 

Breakfast (literally, “breaking the fast”) is when we prepare ourselves nutritionally for the day ahead. The richness of breakfast should correspond to how physically demanding our day will be. My own days are not physically intense, so my breakfast usually consists of my supplements and two glasses of water with apple cider vinegar. Then I enjoy a bullet coffee made with cacao butter. I also do a 20–30-minute workout to kickstart the day. My final morning ritual is a shower—sometimes a cold one—to wake up, engage in controlled stress exposure, and boost immunity.

I’ll speak more in a future issue about how I prepare for daily work-related tasks. Let’s skip that part for now.

So here’s a key question: how do we resist the endless offers and temptations of tea, coffee, and snacks that pop up through the day? When I’m out, I usually ask for plain water, hot water with lemon, or occasionally weak tea. At the office, I always have my own herbal teas at hand. My favourite is semi-fermented oolong, which I re-brew 7 or 8 times. Though it gets weaker each time, it curbs the day’s eating impulses—and in many ways serves as an antidote to our modern snacking habit.

Lunch, for me, is a “meal replacement” moment—some nourishing protein bars or a handful of raw almonds.

Dinner, around six o’clock, becomes a social occasion. I share a light, plant-based meal with family or friends. I’ll include recipes in a future issue, along with topics we haven’t yet unpacked—such as how to adapt this rhythm when traveling or dining out.

That’s how I manage food throughout the day. But running in parallel to our eating habits is our emotional state—our mood and the weight of our feelings.

Every day, we carry the emotional load passed on by our relationships and thoughts. As we discussed last time, our world is full of people—friends, coworkers, even strangers we briefly encounter—who are battling the chaos of the outside world and the burdens that reflect back onto them. They bring these burdens into our interactions: into our shared moments, street encounters, or social coffee breaks. And just like vessels that leak, our emotional containers can spill into one another.

So, how do we protect ourselves from this kind of emotional toxicity?

First, when someone transfers an emotional load, we don’t have to internalize it immediately. We can “note it”—understand, acknowledge, and record it—then evaluate what’s useful before choosing whether to integrate it into our lives.

Second, if someone consistently broadcasts toxicity, we may need to remove them from our lives. If that’s not possible, we should at least interact with them consciously, keeping in mind who they are and limiting the impact of their energy.

Personally, I take some additional precautions. I carve out time just for myself—at least two hours in the morning and one in the evening where I shut out the world. I spend that time alone.

In every interaction, I try to stay alert and aware. I ask myself: why am I sharing this moment with this person? Do they—or I—have an agenda in this situation?

When I meet strangers or casual acquaintances, I stay on the surface and avoid getting drawn into their troubles or toxicity. Two principles always serve me well:

“People are who they are; it’s not my job to change them.”

and

“This too shall pass, it is transient.”

I might offer brief explanations or clarifications, but I don’t waste my life trying to open closed minds. Let them live happily in their beliefs.

Whether or not we absorb the discomfort others bring into our lives is entirely up to us. We must learn to build a mental shield—to recognize and dodge external toxins. When someone tries to cut the queue or forces their way forward in traffic (without a good reason), I pity them. Their lives are consumed by trivial or Pyrrhic victories—like being two minutes early—and their relentless struggles burn them out.

If I were to join that game, I would begin to burn out too. So I choose the healthier route and get there a few minutes later.

When asked, “Would you rather be right or be kind?”, I always choose kindness.

So be kind—not right.

Life is a never-ending chain of choices: from what we eat and drink to how we behave. Every one of these is a decision on the path to wellness. Let’s not surrender our choices to the menu, to marketing, or to other people’s expectations.

Let’s choose for ourselves.

In health and harmony—until the next issue.


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Warm wishes.

 
 
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