I also swim four to five times a week, and once you get rolling into a rhythm of breathing and movement, your mind can truly untether, which I find so refreshing.

You make a horror film that's not very good. You'd be joining a long line, in a long video aisle, of stuff that doesn't work.

The notion that "this too shall pass" is comforting, both in knowing that whatever pain I'm in will change into something else and allowing myself to experience the pain, not trying to blunt it or brush it aside. It's important to feel and to be connected to your emotions, whichever way they play out.

As much as I'd like to pretend that I'm not performing, I think any actor sometimes has themselves outside of themselves and is trying to direct themselves and control what you're seeing and thinking.

Walking my dogs twice a day provides me with an opening and closing of my day, and I've learned to use those walks for a walking meditation, which had never occurred to me until a friend gave me Wherever You Go, There You Are by Jon Kabat-Zinn years ago. It helped me take advantage of moments that already existed in my day and turn them into something more expansive.

I hit my knees every morning and every night to give thanks for being alive and all the blessings I have. And in the middle of chaos, it's been suggested to me to stop and truly look around, notice the sky, the trees, the grass, and realize you're part of it all, which is hard when you really want to focus on what you think is bothering you. However, one of the smartest things I do is check in with my awesome wife, who is really good at screwing my head back on when needed.

I have found, without a doubt, that when I manage to get outside myself and not make myself the center, I'm always taken care of in whatever situation I'm in, even if I'm slow to recognize it. It's counterintuitive thinking on some level and not consistently easy to do.