At 73, I’m still learning to deal with my occasional bouts of shame.”

The experience of shame is so intense and visceral that I can’t always pinpoint exactly what’s going on. Recently, however, I was able to figure out what it was and label it.

The naming is a way of framing the experience as separate from me: no matter how powerful it is, I am not the shame that runs electrically through my body. Once I can tell it like it is, I’m still shaking, but the ground is in sight. Here’s what else I did that day that I now know will help me get through it.

Simple and soothing tasks help me in the moment

My shame attack happened at lunch when I got angry with my husband at a restaurant. We live in Mexico part of the year and in my experience the people here are very polite and not express strong emotions — especially anger — in public settings. I felt so embarrassed by my loud and visible outburst, especially as a foreigner.

Back home, I decided to do some small, simple tasks to help ground me, and one of them was brushing my teeth. As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I remembered watching my sister sit in her hospital bed on her last night of life and vigorously brush her teeth. I was deeply inspired that she cared for her so devotedly when she was only a few hours old.

Then I flossed, not in the sloppy, half-assed way I often do, but with granular precision. I kept thinking along the lines of, “How you do anything is how you do everything.” These routine, unhurried tasks helped calm my restless mind.

Writing in my journal feels healing

I sat down in my comfortable chair in the living room and wrote about 20 minutes. I think the psyche heals faster in movement, and my fingers writing on a page is a form of movement.

I’m ashamed of the very public fight I had with Barry at the restaurant. I turned into a loud and boisterous two-year-old. I was territorial and stupid after he grabbed my bread. But he should have asked!

Big sigh. OK, there it is, it’s all on the page, the page of healing, release that accepts, hears, receives.

A few days later, as I was reading the passage, I couldn’t figure out why I felt so bad. A petty argument? So what? But I was under enormous stress that week because my frail 101-year-old father was undergoing kidney surgery. No wonder my anxiety leaked out somewhere. Shame is not rational.

Talking to myself helps me get through tough times

Later that afternoon, I went for a walk down my favorite street in Guanajuato, the city we live in, and talked to myself. “Honey, what you’re going through is not your fault. It may be personal, but it’s not. You’re wired to experience it occasionally. Remember, shame served a useful function for your ancestors.”

A few times, I put my hand over my heart and said, “Hey, I’m sorry you’re hurt. How can I help you?” Each time, I felt it soften me. It took me years to learn, but I know when I’m going through a tough time, I have to do it be compassionate with myself.

Admiring the moon reminds me to appreciate something outside of myself

Before I went to sleep, I looked out the window and saw the moon high in the sky, its crescent shape shining in the darkness. So creamy and shiny! I felt in a strange way that she was holding me and caressing me.

Admiring a beautiful thing helped me remember that even if I didn’t like it at the time, I could appreciate other things, and that was a start.

Shame feeds on the secret, and talking to others helps me release it

Bestselling author Brené Brown argues for what most of us intuitively know: shame is universal. “We all have it,” she said in one 2013 TED Talk“but no one wants to talk about it.”

He’s right, I sure didn’t want to talk about it. In my state of shame, I was ashamed to feel shame. Layer upon layer! I know I’m not the only person on the planet who experiences this, but when shame consumes me, I feel uniquely worthless.

Later, I was able to share my experience with two friends. But not at the moment.

I realized that shame is not an adversary that I can fight directly; rather, the only way out is through. Small steps like brushing and flossing help. What I know at 73, that I didn’t know at 7, is that it doesn’t last. Like storm clouds, shame will pass.