I recently got a new job. This has prompted what has felt like the beginning of a new period of growth and possibility in my life. My last job brought in enough money for me to pay my bills but was otherwise profoundly toxic. It drained me. Being around that kind of emotional tension and simmering resentment day in and day out was making me cynical. The people in my old office were, themselves, embittered and judgmental. They would sit at their desks doing admin work while shooting out vicious critiques of each other, former employees, celebrities, and passersby. No one, it seemed, was safe from their judgmental gazes.

Marinating in that emotional environment day after day did have an effect on me. I noticed over time that their voices lingered in my head even after I clocked out for the day. Just a couple months into the job and I had a Greek chorus of pudgy office workers in my head, lodging criticisms of anything sincere, earnest, or imperfect. It seemed to take no time at all for me to internalize their miserable worldview.

Since leaving however, the critical voices I had internalized have slowly quieted. Now, they are so distant that I find them hard to access outside of memories that feel distant. In the absence of these voices, my personal world feels safer. And in that newfound glimmer of emotional safety, I have been spreading my wings and trying new things.

I’ve been to concerts and have taken in new movies, of course. I have also been pushing the edges of my comfort zone even further, taking classes in meditation, yoga, and creative movement. At these events, there tends to be an air of open-mindedness and non-judgment. This was new to me. It felt so different from the world of cynicism that I used to inhabit that, at first, I was suspicious of it. No one is that lacking in ego and superiority, so they must be faking it, I reasoned. But being in these classes, and watching strangers express emotions and vulnerability with one another, I felt my cynicism slowly melt away.

In one class, after being guided through a gentle meditation, we all sat in a circle on the ground facing one another. We took turns in the circle reading from an essay about love and friendship. There was something so pure and special about reading and being read to, especially by people you don’t know. After we had collectively read through the piece, we discussed it. The conversation led us to different places. We talked about the state of the world and our anxiety surrounding it. We shared commiserations about friendships lost. We strategized on how to maintain faith in love as a concept in a world that seems so hostile to it so much of the time. In the end, none of us came up with easy answers. But it was reassuring that there will people willing to still ask those kind of questions.

I am glad that an environment like that, one that is so pure of intention and earnest, can exist. And I am especially grateful that I was able to quiet the cynical voices in my head long enough to enter the space and give it a chance to soften my heart, even if only for a moment.