The session room is quiet, my client shifts uncomfortably in their chair, and I gently ask:
"What are you feeling right now?"
"Overwhelmed, scattered, like everything is falling apart," they respond, their voice tight with tension.
We've just finished exploring a particularly challenging pattern in their life, and the emotions are still swirling.
"What do you want in this moment?" I continue softly.
"I want... I want everything to just stop," they whisper, then pause. "Actually, I think I just want to breathe."
"And what's happening in your body right now?"
They take a moment, scanning inward. "My shoulders are up by my ears. My jaw is clenched. I didn't even realize."
As they slowly release the tension, something shifts. The overwhelming chaos begins to settle into something more manageable.
Three questions can transform your relationship with yourself—not instantly, but deeply.
I remember those final weeks before my bachelor's graduation. The university exhibition loomed ahead, and I had to completely remake my entire project. The studio lights burned through restless nights. Deadlines pressed down like weights. Drawing and sketches multiplied on my desk.
"What am I feeling right now?" I asked myself, staring at the scattered pieces of my work at 3 AM.
"Like I want to scream at everyone and everything," came my first response. But that wasn't a feeling—that was what I wanted to do. I dug deeper.
"Anger," I finally admitted. Raw, burning anger at the circumstances, the timing, the pressure.
"What do I want right now?" I pushed myself to answer honestly.
My mind immediately jumped to the big picture: "I want everything to just stop. I want this exhibition to disappear. I want more time."
But as I sat with the question longer, something simpler emerged: "I want to sleep. I just want to sleep."
"What's happening in my body?"
I hadn't even noticed—my entire back was a knot of tension. My shoulders had crept up toward my ears. My breathing was shallow and quick.
These three questions became my compass through that intense period—and continue to guide me today:
- What am I feeling right now?
- What do I want right now?
- What's happening in my body?
Ask yourself these questions throughout your day. Not once, but regularly. Every hour if you can manage it. They work together like a three-part harmony, each revealing something the others might miss.
The first question—"What am I feeling right now?"—builds emotional awareness.
Watch out for disguised thoughts masquerading as feelings. "I feel like I'm failing" is actually "I think I'm failing, and what I feel is fear or shame or disappointment."
"I feel like running away" translates to "I think I should escape, and what I feel is anxiety or overwhelm."
Real feelings are single words: joy, sadness, anger, fear, excitement, disgust, surprise. They're the raw emotional data of your experience.
The second question—"What do I want right now?"—connects you to your needs.
This isn't about grand life goals (though it can lead there). It's about what you need in this specific moment. Sometimes it's as simple as "I want water" or "I want to stretch" or "I want quiet."
The trap here is the word "want" followed by someone else's behavior: "I want him to understand" or "I want them to change." These external wants leave you powerless.
Instead, ask: "What do I want that I can actually influence?" Maybe it's "I want to express myself clearly" or "I want to set a boundary."
The third question—"What's happening in my body?"—grounds you in physical reality.
Your body holds information that your mind might miss. Tight shoulders signal stress. A clenched jaw reveals anger. Shallow breathing points to anxiety. A heavy feeling in your chest might indicate sadness.
This question brings you back to yourself when your thoughts are spinning in circles.
During those exhibition weeks, this three-part check-in became my anchor. "I feel frustrated. I want a break. My neck is stiff." Simple recognition led to simple action: five minutes of stretching, a glass of water, three deep breaths.
The magic isn't in having the perfect answers—it's in developing the habit of asking.
From "I notice I'm sitting uncomfortably" grows "I notice when situations don't serve me."
From "I want to move my body" develops "I want to make changes that honor my needs."
From "I feel this knot in my stomach when they speak" emerges "I feel this same knot in every relationship where I don't speak my truth."
These three questions—simple as they are—create a foundation for living more consciously, more authentically, more kindly toward yourself.
Start asking. Start noticing. Start small.
Your life will thank you for it.