Recently, I heard the story about the two wolves often attributed to Native American wisdom. A grandfather tells his grandson that inside each of us, two wolves battle—one represents fear, anger, envy, and resentment, while the other embodies love, kindness, gratitude, and peace. When the grandson asks which wolf wins, the grandfather replies, “The one you feed.”

It resonated with me, though quickly faded as I prepared for an event.

Friday, I spoke at the Mindful Work Summit, a virtual event featuring speakers on mindfulness, coaching, and workplace training. I opened the day with a talk on Rewiring Our Brains for Change with Positive Neuroplasticity—an area of interest to me and one the organizer thought would enhance the program.

I structured my talk with an engaging opening, key points, a short PNT experience, and a call to action. And I felt good about it. But as I listened to the rest of the program, I realized the audience leaned more toward fellow trainers and practitioners than those looking to discover ways to experience mindful work. Knowing that wouldn’t have changed my talk, but it might have tweaked my stance a bit.

That’s when Worry About Work Wolf showed up looking hungry. She wanted to pull me into an exhaustive postmortem: Why didn’t I ask more about the audience? Maybe I should have started with a different query? She was ravenous for more worry. And I was starting to feed her.

Then, I remembered—there are two wolves. And at that moment, I saw Treasure Family Time Wolf standing right in front of me. Because right after the summit, I had driven six hours to celebrate my granddaughter’s birthday. It reminded me how, during my children’s younger years, I often struggled to feed both wolves, though Worry About Work Wolf usually got the bigger share. At the time, I didn’t see another way. But in this moment, I could choose differently.

Of course, I want to reflect and learn from my speaking experience. And I can do that in a healthy way on my ride home. But choosing to feed the Treasure Family Time Wolf created space for deep sharing with my daughter and, later, pure joy and hilarity at the party. That felt like the wise choice.

On my way home, I may hear the howl of the Worry About Work Wolf again. If so, I’ll ask her, What do you really want? I’ve got some love and kindness to share. All out of that fear and worry food—sorry. Maybe she’s ready for a new diet.

Here’s to your feeding the wolf you want to win!