Quoting the late poet Mary Oliver, author and organic farming pioneer Myra Goodman encapsulates a lifelong personal journey—one defined by a constant battle against chronic anxiety, the heavy shadow of inherited generational trauma, and a eventual shift toward embracing life with presence and trust rather than fear.
Goodman, the award-winning author of four books and co-founder of Earthbound Farm—which she helped grow over thirty years from a small backyard garden into the world’s largest producer of organic produce—has dedicated much of her life to exploring personal well-being. Through her online platform, Quest for Eternal Sunshine, she provides free resources designed to support healing and emotional wellness. Yet, as she reveals in a deeply personal reflection, achieving emotional ease required confronting a hyper-activated nervous system that had been primed for disaster since her childhood.
The Legacy of Intergenerational Trauma
Goodman’s early life was profoundly shaped by an environment thick with unspoken grief and persistent dread. Both of her parents were Holocaust survivors who had been orphaned during World War II, suffering the loss of almost their entire families and every material possession they owned. Growing up in the wake of such immense destruction, Goodman inherited a nervous system perpetually on high alert, conditioned to anticipate catastrophic outcomes at any moment.
This emotional vulnerability was exacerbated during her youth when, within the span of just a few years, three children close to her each lost a parent. Witnessing the devastation experienced by her peers taught Goodman at a young age that loved ones could vanish without warning, instantly shattering a world that had previously felt safe and happy. This heightened awareness of human fragility led to severe panic attacks during her childhood, centered around the fear of her own parents dying. For decades, death felt to her not as a natural phase of existence, but as an apocalyptic threat constantly looming on the horizon.
Despite spending years engaging in healing practices aimed at soothing her nervous system and reducing her baseline anxiety, Goodman’s progress faced a sudden test when tragedy struck her immediate community.
Seth Pollack—a close family friend described as wise, generous, and full of life—was struck by a car while on his morning bicycle ride. He died instantly. The suddenness of his death left his wife, who is one of Goodman’s closest friends, and his daughters facing immense loss and grief.
The abruptness of Pollack’s passing sent shockwaves through Goodman’s life, reawakening her age-old terrors. Once again, the world felt menacing, painfully fragile, and overwhelmingly dangerous, threatening to pull her back into a cycle of hypervigilance.
Accepting the Truth of Impermanence
In the year following Pollack’s death, Goodman began to reflect deeply on his life, his sudden passing, and the resilient, open manner in which his family coped with his absence. Through this reflection, she reached a pivotal realization about her anxiety: while her chronic fear of tragedy had been exacerbated by childhood trauma, the core realization that life is uncertain was not irrational.
The reality of human existence is that there are no guarantees that loved ones—or oneself—will be alive tomorrow. Impermanence is a non-negotiable aspect of life, and constantly worrying about potential loss does not serve as a protective buffer against tragedy. Goodman realized that continually fighting against an unalterable reality was an entirely futile exercise.
While acknowledging that nothing lasts forever can be frightening, Goodman observed that this truth can also serve as a powerful reminder of the value of the present. She recognized that she faced a clear choice regarding how to live the rest of her life: she could either remain trapped in a state of constant fear regarding potential loss, or she could allow the certainty of impermanence to deepen her appreciation for the present moment.
Cultivating Presence Instead of Fear
Reflecting on Pollack’s legacy, Goodman noted that when a cherished individual dies, their positive qualities often become more prominent in the memories of those who knew them. Pollack had lived a remarkably full life, embracing the world with enthusiasm while constantly uplifting those around him. He operated from a place of faith rather than fear, leaving a legacy that encouraged living fully rather than withdrawing out of dread.
Recognizing that she could not simply logic her way out of decades of anxiety, Goodman decided to conduct a personal experiment. Rather than demanding a permanent transformation from the parts of her nervous system that had spent a lifetime on guard, she asked those anxious parts if they would be willing to set fear aside for just a single afternoon.
The premise was straightforward: could she try embodying presence instead of fear for a few hours?
Throughout that afternoon, whenever anxious thoughts surfaced, Goodman acknowledged them without judgment, reassuring herself that she could address those fears later. Instead of trying to suppress the anxiety, she redirected her attention back to the present moment, focusing on sensations of relaxation and trust.
The results of the brief experiment were notable. Though her physical routine remained unchanged, her internal experience shifted significantly. Goodman felt lighter, more relaxed, and far more open to meaningful interactions. She observed that she was able to hold her husband’s gaze longer, sing with enthusiasm while walking her dogs, and engage in longer, warmer hugs.
The Cost of Living in Fear
The experiment highlighted for Goodman the steep cost of living in a state of continuous apprehension. Chronic fear does not merely create emotional distress; it narrows a person’s perspective, fosters suspicion, and consistently directs focus toward what might go wrong rather than what is currently happening.
While fear demands complete certainty before permitting a feeling of safety, trust allows an individual to participate fully in a life where certainty does not exist. By repeatedly returning to this practice of choosing presence, Goodman found it increasingly accessible to step away from anxious thought patterns, discovering that daily life became markedly more enjoyable without the constant weight of anticipation.
Choosing What to Carry Forward
Although Goodman acknowledges the deep roots of her inherited anxiety, drawing upon the memory of her friend’s joyful approach to life has provided her with a practical model for living more fully. The ongoing practice has demonstrated that long-held behavioral patterns do not have to dictate the future, and that individuals maintain the agency to shape their own emotional responses.
Experiencing a sudden loss within her close circle confirmed that life can change without warning and that grief is painful. However, it also demonstrated that anticipating tragedy in advance does not protect against pain or prepare someone for loss, ultimately weakening the grip that fear held over her daily life.
Ultimately, Goodman’s journey highlights a fundamental shift in perspective regarding mortality. Where fear claims that the possibility of loss requires constant defensiveness, a new perspective asserts that because life is temporary, it should be fully appreciated while it lasts. The certainty of impermanence does not have to be a reason to live guardedly; instead, it can serve as a compelling reason to love more deeply and engage with the world more fully.
