The Mental Compass

"The Boy and the Heron," an animated film, offers profound psychological lessons about mental health and the complex relationship between mothers and their children. The story explores the inner world of a young boy facing emotional turmoil, highlighting how grief, fear, and hope intertwine in shaping one’s mental well-being. The film emphasizes the importance of confronting inner struggles rather than suppressing them, reminding viewers that healing often begins with acknowledgment and acceptance of one’s feelings. This message is particularly relevant in today’s society, where mental health issues are often stigmatized, and seeking help can be seen as a sign of weakness. A central theme in the movie is the influence of a mother’s love and her impact on her child's psychological resilience. The boy’s relationship with his mother is depicted as a source of both comfort and challenge. While her love provides a safe haven, her absence or emotional distance can create feelin...

Written By :  Lakshmi C  Counselling Social Worker and Trainer  Blessings are one of the most beautiful examples of equality. At first, it may seem that when an elder blesses a younger person, one person is giving while the other is receiving. But in reality, both are receiving something meaningful. The younger person receives goodwill, encouragement, love and a sense of being protected, while the elder receives respect, affection, attention and the joy of knowing that their presence and experience are valued.  There is something powerful about physically bowing before someone we respect. For a brief moment, we put aside our pride, worries, achievements and ego. We acknowledge that we have something to learn from those who came before us.Besides, the physical act of bending forward can also influence our physiological state. Changes in posture and breathing can affect circulation, muscle tension, and the way we experience stress. When combined with a calm environment...

Written By : Ms. A. Gayathri Special Educator and Academic Consultant A. Gayathri is a seasoned education professional and special educator with more than two decades of experience in inclusive education, learning disabilities, counselling, and psychotherapy. She has served as a special educator, NIOS consultant, lecturer, vocational trainer, and educational consultant across reputed schools, universities, and trusts in Tamil Nadu. Her work reflects strong expertise in special education and teacher training. She has been honoured with multiple state and national awards for her outstanding contributions to the field of education. NIOS is often labeled as the last option, but in truth, it is an inclusive educational system that provides flexible and meaningful learning opportunities for diverse academic learners. NIOS is often misunderstood as a “last option” in education; however, in reality, it is one of the most inclusive systems designed to support diverse academic learners. This per...

Whether it's Van Gogh, Edward Munch, Sylvia Plath or Virginia Woolf, none could escape the turmoil their minds put them into. What bred their creative output? Could they still have produced their works if they weren't in a poor mental state? Is artistic creativity only tied to poor mental health outcomes or is there more to it. Let's dive into it and know from one of the well-known psychological perspectives: The Jungian Psychology.   Our mind only creates something new from what already exists inside them. It works from what enters it through experience, memory, and instinct. Every brain is different, shaped by genetics and by what it goes on to experience uniquely, and so each one chooses on its own what and how much data it allows to enter. This entering of data into our brains is largely determined by our 'sensitivity' (your capacity to notice, process and react deeply to your environment) and a personality trait called 'openness to experience ' (your c...

On childhood battlegrounds, silent solidarity, and the enduring language of sibling love. Written by Ms. Gurneet Kaur Jaitly, Counselling Psychologist “Give it to me!” “Mum, they started it!” “I’m never talking to you again!” If you grew up with a sibling, these childhood battle cries are etched into your memory. Siblinghood in the early years is loud, messy, and fiercely territorial. It is built on epic showdowns over the television remote, tactical negotiations for the last piece of chocolate, and dramatic threats of lifelong silence, only to be found whispering conspiracies together five minutes later under a makeshift blanket fort. That is the paradoxical magic of growing up side by side: it effortlessly holds burning irritation and fierce, unshakeable loyalty in the very same breath. The Keepers of Our Origins Long before resumes, carefully curated social feeds, and the heavy armor of adulthood defined who we are, a sibling knew the unvarnished version of us. They were our first c...

There may be moments from the past that when you recall today, may seem magical. An old photograph that appears in your gallery. A familiar song starts playing. You catch the smell of something that you haven’t experienced in years and suddenly, you’re back in the memories; at school, on a college trip, maybe sitting with old friends or even living through a chapter of your life that you haven’t thought about in years. For a moment, it feels like everything was simpler back then, maybe, even better. And then we often find ourselves saying, “Those were the best days,” or “Things were so much better back then.”  But were they really? Maybe not. Maybe our minds have been simply good at remembering the past in a certain way. We don’t remember the past exactly as it happened At times, we tend to think of memory as a recording: something happens, our brain stores it and we retrieve it later. But cognitive psychology tells us that autobiographical memory is more reconstructive than that. ...

Meera was fifty-three when she finally admitted to herself that loneliness inside a marriage felt heavier than loneliness outside it. After thirty years of smiling through silences that cut deeper than words, she walked out, not because she wanted freedom, but because she wanted peace. The world whispered that starting over at her age was foolish, but she was tired of shrinking herself to fit into a life that no longer felt like hers. Healing came slowly, like sunlight leaking through curtains after a long night. She learned to eat alone without feeling abandoned. She learned that choosing herself was not selfishness but survival. And she learned to sit with grief without letting it define her. On a rainy Tuesday, at a community library class she joined just to feel less invisible, she met Arvind, a quiet man with kind eyes and a history full of bruised edges. He, too, carried a past that had taught him love could be conditional and companionship could turn into captivity. They spoke l...

Have you ever seen God? My social studies teacher posed this question to me when I was in sixth grade, while studying the Ramayana and various other historical works. Out of curiosity, I asked her, "Since these mythological books refer to God and, as a matter of course, God exists, why are we discussing the origin of God?" She replied that we can view these texts as moral lessons to guide our own behavior, in which case the psychological value of the lesson remains meaningful regardless of underlying theological debates. Well, God felt completely real to me then. How could anyone refuse to acknowledge the creator of our world? Yet, a few moments later, my mind turned to Darwin's theory of evolution. Since science provides an empirical framework for understanding our physical origin, what then is the role of belief? How do we understand the deities seated in our mandirs? Over time, I came to realize a subtle shift in perspective: while objective proofs of the transcendent ...

There was a time when playing cricket required absolutely nothing except a bat, a ball and enough friends to form two teams. The bat could be a piece of wood. The wickets could be three bricks. The boundary could be an imaginary line that somehow everyone agreed upon until someone hit the ball too far. And the rules? They changed depending on who was winning. Nobody needed a fitness tracker. Nobody was recording their strike rate. Nobody was asking whether playing cricket would improve their résumé. We simply played. Today, the picture looks a little different. We have group chats full of people saying, “We should meet sometime,” followed by weeks of absolutely nothing. We watch professional athletes exercise on screens while sitting comfortably on our sofas. We order food instead of walking to get it. We scroll through videos of people playing sports, but somehow struggle to find the time to play ourselves. And perhaps the strangest part is that we have never been more connected digit...