Tiny Buddha

Author: Anonymous

  • Healing Anxious Attachment Patterns to Create Space for Love

    Healing Anxious Attachment Patterns to Create Space for Love

    “Anxious attachment stems from a deep sense of inner instability where old wounds make people anticipate that they will be abandoned again and again.” ~Jessica Baum

    I have recently met the love of my life. Yay!!! He is the person I’ve been imagining for as long as I can remember, hoping and praying that one day I would find him.

    It took such a long time that I began to suspect I was delusional for imagining that such a love was possible, and I almost gave up on the idea of him. But now he is here, and we share the most incredibly beautiful love and my soul is so vibrantly happy to be next to him.

    But the story isn’t so simple because my soul shares this space with my conditioned mind (old parts of myself that developed their own ways of being). To these parts of my ego mind, love feels alien and threatening. When these parts take over, I fall out of alignment with the frequency of our love and tumble back into the fears and worries that trigger me to play out old patterns.

    Until quite recently, I believed myself to be unworthy of loving or of being loved. I was born into a toxic family, to parents who were mentally and emotionally unwell, and as a result, I experienced much neglect and abuse. As is usual after such childhood trauma, I developed a deeply ingrained insecure attachment style, a deep mistrust and fear of others, and a consuming sense of unworthiness.

    For decades, these wounds led me unconsciously down the same paths I had witnessed around me as a child. My idea of love was deeply confused. I sought validation and reassurance of my worth continuously, while feeling in my core that I was unworthy of love. I was only attracted to unavailable men who couldn’t, didn’t, or wouldn’t love me, confirming my idea that I was unlovable and unwanted.

    As a therapist, I knew enough to try to manage my thoughts and feelings and work on myself. But in all truth these patterns of being anxiously and obsessively codependent continued to play out, making me both deeply miserable and also ashamed of my inability to fix, change, or manage them well enough.

    After my divorce four years ago I was so broken, vulnerable, and devastated and so tired of these repeated patterns within myself that I made the decision to invest wholeheartedly into my relationship with myself. I wanted to heal these old childhood wounds that still haunted me so powerfully.

    While these old parts still nudge me with their thoughts and feelings of being unlovable, of not feeling safe, of needing to remain vigilant and needing to perform as they always did, they are now way less consuming. I’ve healed enough that I’ve been able to find my love, and I’m able to separate enough from them that I can see them as they arise and support myself as they do.

    I want to share with others the things I do to ride this inevitable wave of oscillating between the old patterns and the new emerging, more securely attached version of myself.

    Last week our plans changed because his daughter was sad and needed him. It meant that I didn’t hear from him for the rest of that day and a little through the next one.

    I imagined that he would realize that he had been neglecting his daughter, hence her sadness, and that he would decide that he needed to end our love so that he could better focus on his important role of being a good father to her. I felt so saddened by the thought of him leaving that I cried as the anxiety coursed through my body and the old familiar feelings of abandonment threatened to overwhelm me.

    The good news is that I knew that I could soothe and support myself, so I stepped into the following action.

    I listened.

    I spent a good hour or so writing about my thoughts, feelings, and fears and letting this part of myself know that I was there and I was listening.

    I gave her (this young part of myself) space to process what she was experiencing without jumping in to judge her. I approached her with open, compassionate curiosity by asking her a variety of what, why, how, and when type questions.

    I let her write and share and come up with a plan to deal with what might happen (in the worst-case scenario), and I sat with all the heavy feelings it brought with it.

    I offered reassurance.

    I told her that it would be okay, that whatever happened I would be there and I would support and love her through this.

    I asked her to breathe and be in this moment with me—to just breathe.

    I reminded her that whatever happened was for our highest good.

    I reminded her of the journey we had been on and how far we’d come to get to this loving self relationship.

    I reminded her that she was just a ghost from the past, that she had already served her time in trying to protect me from harm, and that she could relax now because she was safe.

    I refocused my attention.

    All this managed to ease my anxiety a little so I could get on with my day; seeing friends, doing a little work, and keeping myself busy. While I could feel the panic and anxiety within, it wasn’t debilitating, not like it used to be. But it was definitely still there. I couldn’t quite shift the sense that I should pay attention to the uneasy feelings in my body.

    I resisted the urge to text him seeking reassurance. I simply gave him space (with some phone stalking) and respected that he was having a process.

    I planned to talk with him, when he was ready, to shift our connection so that we could stay together and make more space for his important connection with his daughter. If that was what he wanted too. By now I was pretty sure he wouldn’t, and I reminded myself that if he didn’t, I would be okay.

    He arrived later that day, and I was ready for whatever was about to happen, but not actually what did happen.

    He was just the same—happy to see me, feeling good in our love—and absolutely nothing had changed for him. His daughter was fine, and he had none of the problems or concerns that I imagined he had had.

    And I was completely thrown!

    I had gotten so involved in the story, with a whole plan of how we could move forward from this place, that it took me completely by surprise that NONE of it was real or necessary.

    I just wasn’t able to see that the part of me that learned to be so vigilant of hurt or harm had imagined the whole thing.  I was so focused on practicing self-compassion and support that I hadn’t really stopped to question its validity.

    I guess the next level of my process is about recognizing when it is important and necessary to offer myself gentle compassion and support and when is it time for a tougher kind of loving compassion by saying “That’s enough, no more!” I’m pretty certain that both have their place and are necessary!

    What I’m learning is that loving and being loved is a huge process for the old parts of my ego mind, and maintaining the frequency of love is going to take some practice. And that my mind is really, really tricky!

    For now, I am oscillating in and out of higher and lower states of energy, thoughts, and feelings about intimacy, love, and connection. I am both in the process of becoming a higher vibrational version of myself AND of releasing the old ways of being that no longer serve me.

    I am choosing to remind myself that all these old energies, thoughts, feelings, and patterns are coming up in order to be released, and as long as I don’t believe in them, they will eventually pass.

    I want to detach completely from any shame I have about my humanness, so I am leaning into my humor and watching myself with loving curiosity as these energies pass by.

    For now, I am choosing to commit more fully to my daily mindfulness practice so that I can train my traumatized mind to stay present and enjoy this beautiful love.

    I write this for all of us who are brave enough to face our own ghosts so that we can love and be loved, just as we deserve. My hope is that by sharing my journey, it will help you with yours. 

  • How I Found Purpose When I Lost It at Work

    How I Found Purpose When I Lost It at Work

    “The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.” ~Fyodor Dostoyevsky

    When I was in my last semester of college in 2016, I got my first paid job working in libraries as a children’s library assistant. I can remember the passion and sense of purpose I initially felt when taking this job. The idea that, every day, I’d be helping foster a love of reading in kids felt like a worthwhile career.

    Reading supports cognitive development in children. It enhances language skills and improves concentration. It encourages creativity and even fosters empathy, as it introduces children to worlds they otherwise would not know of. Suffice it to say, this seemed like the kind of career that would give me purpose, something I always looked for when selecting a career path.

    When I began working as a children’s assistant, I felt that sense of purpose. The library I worked at was big. There were kids constantly coming into the beautiful children’s room, with its high ceiling and numerous colorful shelves full of books. I eagerly tried to help each one find that one book that would spark excitement and, hopefully, a love of reading.

    I also got to run fun children’s programs, like a yoga class, a baking class, and a writing club. And I ran a story time for babies twice a week. Seeing the children enjoy these programs together, socialize, and view the library as a community place enhanced my sense of purpose. I was doing something meaningful, something that benefited the community.

    As time went on, I knew my end goal was to be a youth services librarian, not just an assistant. I knew in that position I could make the biggest difference. I would be the one in charge of the children’s and teen departments, and the books and programs each one offered. I started applying for these positions until finally I got offered one.

    Going into this job, my sense of purpose was strong. I was excited at all the possibilities open to me with these new responsibilities. I was ready for this next step.

    And for the first couple months, things were great.

    The library had no director. Instead, there were two employees acting as co-interim directors. The library was very small. We all got along, though, and helped each other out.

    However, a new director was eventually hired, and I quickly realized we didn’t mesh well. She was a micromanager, and I felt very limited and restricted by her. She also followed her own agenda and even censored the books I put out to meet her own beliefs. This goes against the library systems belief of intellectual freedom and was a huge red flag to me.

    There were many days when I came home crying, and my anxiety skyrocketed. I even passed out once at work due to the level of stress I was experiencing. I wanted to quit, but knew I needed to find a new job first. Every day, I felt sick going into work. My sense of purpose of working in libraries with children was fading.

    There was one day in particular that sent that sense of purpose crumbling. There was a preschool above the library, and the kids were scheduled to come down to the library for a story time. I remember feeling anxious about this, as I’d never done a story time for such a large group of kids before. However, I had always felt I did well conducting my story times in the past, so I used this to ease my anxiety.

    The kids came down and I gave it my all. I ended up having a great time reading to them. Yes, they were a big group, but they seemed engaged with the story, and I finished feeling certain I’d done a good job.

    My boss, however, felt differently. She berated my story time, telling me I didn’t engage the kids at all. She then proceeded to show me a video she took of my story time and began pointing out everything she felt I’d done poorly.

    I can take constructive criticism, but what she was doing was anything but constructive. She didn’t like my book choices, my song choices, my interaction with the kids. She then started putting down my personality, saying I’m too quiet and not cut out for this position.

    I felt destroyed. Something I’d once felt great purpose doing no longer felt that way. I suddenly felt I wasn’t cut out for this job. I started severely doubting my abilities.

    Eventually, I got a new job, again as a youth services librarian. I am still currently at this job, and things have improved. I have a director who is fair, and there are days when I feel a sense of joy, such as when I run a fun and successful program or help a child find a book that they are excited about reading. However, that sense of purpose I once felt regularly as an assistant is not often there.

    For this reason, I decided to begin looking for that sense of purpose elsewhere, such as in hobbies outside of work like writing and art. These things never fail to evoke a sense of purpose in me when I do them. I get in a state of flow when writing or painting, and I feel a sense of purpose in the creative process.

    My ultimate goal with writing and creating art is that, upon completion, I will have something unique and beautiful to share with the world. The idea of others reading or seeing my work and connecting with it gives me a reason to create. Life, to me, is all about connection.

    I’ve also found purpose in my relationships. Fostering my relationships is one of the most important things in my life. I have a wonderful circle of family and friends, and enriching my relationship with them gives me purpose. Without relationships, life is lonely. The people in my life I am closest to have helped shape who I am as a person. They challenge me to be the best version of myself.

    Since knowing my husband, for example, I have grown as a person in many ways, and fostering the love we have is so important to me because sharing my life with him gives it meaning. I also find purpose in being there for my loved ones and supporting them when they need me.

    My dog gives me purpose too. Taking care of her gives me a reason to get up in the morning. I need to feed her and walk her and, above all, love her.

    I don’t feel the same purpose I once felt at work. That’s not to say I’ll never feel it again. In time, hopefully it will come back. What losing my sense of purpose in work, though, has taught me is that purpose doesn’t exist solely in a job.

    There are other forms of purpose outside of work like hobbies, family and friends, and pets. Purpose can come from many places. You just have to be willing to open yourself up to these different possibilities.

  • How My Trauma Led Me to the Sex Industry and What’s Helping Me Heal

    How My Trauma Led Me to the Sex Industry and What’s Helping Me Heal

    “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” ~Rumi

    The hardest battle I’ve fought is an ongoing one. It’s an all-consuming shadow of dread that never leaves, only resting long enough for me to catch my breath.

    I know what it feels like to be depressed. I know the feeling of pain and hopelessness so well it almost feels like home.

    I remember being around eleven years old and thinking, wow, this all seems so meaningless. I had become awakened by my consciousness and overwhelmed by emptiness. I knew then that there was more to life than what I was perceiving. These moments were brief but continuous.

    I grew up in an unstable family and took turns living with each and every family member. Everything was temporary and nothing made sense. As I grew older, my depression grew stronger. I did not experience love or security, and I felt like a burden to everyone around me. Each day I was disgusted with myself for still existing.

    How It All Began

    I was drawn to the sex industry because I was part of the wrong crowd, and by the time I hit my early twenties I had completely lost all will to live. I had no desire to even try to function in society as a “normal person” should. It was a place where I could indulge my self-hatred by abusing drugs, alcohol, and my body.

    The pain I carried with me was heavy and overwhelming. I wanted to be around people who I could relate to. People who had also given up on life. Although we had no direction, we had a sense of belonging and a feeling of home, which was something we craved. Our pain had brought us together, and that was all that mattered.

    We were bound by our trauma and our secrets. It was a place where it was acceptable to be angry at the world. It was my home, and these were my people.

    There is a great myth that women enjoy being sex workers. The pay is incredible, the hours are short, and sometimes it’s just one big party. I can’t speak for others, but from my experience I can tell you it is nothing like Pretty Woman. There is no one coming to save you.

    No little girl ever dreamed of growing up to be a sex worker. Most women working as escorts were victims of some form of sexual abuse as a child, including myself.

    I know you’re probably wondering why I would do something so extreme and thinking that surely I had other options. My depression was paralyzing, so this seemed like the ideal option for me. I was the ideal candidate. I couldn’t get the help I needed, and keeping a job or getting out of bed was almost impossible.

    I believed for so long that I was lazy; I was useless and good for nothing else. Gosh, I could hardly pull off being a decent prostitute!

    We don’t do this because we love sex or for that matter even like it; we do this because we feel trapped financially, or we’re desperate to survive our addictions and mental state.

    And sometimes we’re so consumed by our desperation that we’re oblivious to the dangers of being raped, attacked, or even murdered—and the worst part is that we don’t even care. We have been brainwashed to believe that no one cares.

    How I Changed My Mindset and Found My Purpose

    When I felt alone and had no one to call, I began to write and uncover my creative spirit. Writing was no longer just a form of cheap therapy but a way home to myself. It was a safe space that wasn’t invaded. It was a space where I could process the thoughts and emotions that had consumed me.

    I wrote about how ashamed, unworthy, and unlovable I felt. I thought no one would love me after the dark life I’d lived. And worse, I thought I deserved to be treated badly after everything I’d done.

    I wrote about feeling abandoned, alone, and rejected and desperately wanting to be normal and live a normal life.

    I could no longer continue to run from myself or sit back and watch as my life fell apart. I had hit rock bottom, and my suicide attempts had been endless. Something had to change, and that was my mind.

    I began reading books and listening to podcasts about who I wanted to be, as well as anything self-help related.

    I stopped abusing substances and started to see a little more clearly. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, especially without any professional help, but I did it.

    I learned that I’d made the choices I’d made based on how I viewed myself, so that had to change.

    I forced myself into a healthy routine and began meditating and practicing gratitude to start reprogramming my brain.

    I also forced myself to cry, which I’d hardly ever done because I’d been so numb.

    I removed everything from my life that was doing me harm and didn’t serve the future I was trying to create.

    I started taking better care of my body by getting more sleep, eating better, exercising, and even pampering myself.

    I learned to be grateful for my experiences and I gave myself permission to heal.

    After doing all these things consistently for a while, I started experiencing little bits of joy, and that was what kept me going. I now listen to my body and observe my mind. When negative thoughts pop up, I send them away.

    I stopped fighting the world and running from my trauma, took a deep breath, and realized that the world wasn’t out to get me. It was me all along; I was my own worst enemy. I had to accept that I deserved to be alive and embrace being human, in all its beauty and ugliness combined.

    I know that it won’t be completely smooth sailing from here, but I know now that, despite everything, I am worthy.

    Being in such a dark industry I’ve always had to fight. Fight for my voice to be heard, fight for my safety, fight to survive, and fight to be seen as a human being. I no longer need to fight; I can just be.

    I now believe that my suffering was my spiritual teacher, and these experiences happened for a reason—so I could help others somehow, even if just one person.

    The real cure to trauma is courage, and the opposite of depression is expression.

    So here I am, brave enough to not only own up to my past but tell my story. By doing so I let the light in, the light that I can now share with you.

  • How Life’s Daily Challenges Can Actually Be Gifts in Disguise

    How Life’s Daily Challenges Can Actually Be Gifts in Disguise

    “Smile at your patterns.” ~Tsoknyi Rinpoche

    Partway through Eckhart Tolle’s Conscious Manifestation course, I furiously jotted down his teachings about challenges and obstacles to remind myself that they’re not only a normal part of the human experience but necessary for spiritual growth. “Yes!!!!” I wrote in agreement.

    When faced with difficulty, the human tendency is to react and resist, and when we do this, we add suffering to an already difficult situation. This tendency is reflexive within me, and my mindfulness practice has enabled me to either observe the cascading habit pattern as it unfolds, which disentangles me from its snare, or to gently accept what is happening and proceed with calm action and a quiet mind.

    When we can practice acceptance and equanimity, when we can say, “Okay, this is my present moment experience, and I can allow it because it’s already here,” we soften and open in the most tender way. And with this opening, we can receive a bounty of lessons and wisdom that our obstinance so often obscures.

    A few days after listening to Eckhart’s talk, I had to see several doctors and get lab work done to address symptoms I’d been experiencing. The entire week was pockmarked with small difficulties.

    First, the doctor’s office lost my lab sample, so I had to go back and give another one. Then the lab work process got delayed, and in an attempt to access my results, I spent two hours getting transferred between multiple staff members who ultimately said they couldn’t help me.

    At the end of the week, I confronted my last hurdle: I arrived for a follow-up appointment, only to be told that the automated system had canceled it and that the doctor was not available.

    After I explained my situation and expressed my discontent, the medical assistant managed to rebook me with another doctor. I softened, thanked her, and sat down, acutely aware that I’d lost my (spiritual) way.

    With each setback, I was upset and resistant. Like a snake releasing venom, I texted my husband flurries of frustrations, spoke exasperatingly to hospital staff, and felt my body tighten with stress.

    I realized that I only softened to the medical assistant because she told me what I wanted to hear, and within moments, this insight allowed me to look back on the entire series of events with a compassionate and non-judgmental eye. 

    I saw with clarity that in cloying for ease, I only created more difficulty. I saw that I had been behaving as if everything were a threat—like the healthcare system was out to get me—and that the real predator was my own mind. Immediately, I felt an internal release, like a nearly bursting balloon slowly deflating with the prick of a pin. I realized I could stop fighting. I realized that I could choose to surrender.

    After my appointment, I had to go to the lab, and I arrived at what felt like a crowded DMV: people everywhere, red ticket numbers glaring overhead, and a wait that seemed unending. I took a deep breath, pulled a number, and decided that I was going to use the wait—which I now perceived as an opportunity, not a threat—for mindfulness, presence, and spiritual practice.

    I looked around me at all the people. I watched as children caringly pushed their elderly parents in wheelchairs, as a pregnant woman patiently engaged her three children, and as a person laboringly limped to the ticket machine, burdened by a massive leg brace.

    I thought: Everyone is here because they are experiencing some difficulty; everyone has health scares; everyone is taking time out of their days to be here; everyone is waiting.

    I was so touched by the kindness and patience I witnessed. Suddenly, my story became enveloped in everyone’s story. I was them and they were me. I felt a deep kinship—a tenderness that made me feel enveloped in, rather than targeted by, the human experience. 

    As my awareness expanded further and further outside myself, I began connecting with those around me. I told the pregnant woman sitting beside me that I admired her patience, and when she shared that she was fasting for a half day of pregnancy-related lab work, I became even more aware that mindset is a choice.

    I made eye contact with a man whose gentleness I perceived underneath his masked face. We didn’t say anything, but we said everything.

    I kept scanning the room, and I noticed it had transformed from a chaotic, undesirable place, to somewhere I wanted to stay, somewhere I felt deep meaning and connection. Then I noticed that the space did not transform; I simply changed my relationship to it.

    When I left the lab, I was buoyant. I felt energized, connected, and light. I was overwhelmed with the experiential realization that the entire week was a skillfully designed lesson on challenges. I saw what happens when I fight to make them go away, and then I saw what happens when I invite them in, with an open heart and an open mind.

    “Challenges as gifts” left the theoretical world of quotes and concepts and burrowed into my lived experience. It stays there, and reminds me of itself, when I allow it to shine its light.

  • Please Don’t Fix Me: What True Empathy Is (And Isn’t)

    Please Don’t Fix Me: What True Empathy Is (And Isn’t)

    “No one mentioned until I was in late middle age that—horribly!—my good, helpful ideas for other grown-ups were not helpful. That my help was in fact sometimes toxic. That people needed to defend themselves from my passionate belief that I had good ideas for other people’s lives. I did not know that help is the sunny side of control.”  ~Anne Lamott

    I’m a well-meaning empath.

    If you share your problems with me, I’ll quickly make them my own. I’ll listen intently, feel deeply, and want to help. I’ll give you advice and solutions you didn’t ask for, then be annoyed when you don’t do what I suggest.

    I used to think this was being helpful.

    When my partner told me his joints were aching, I thought he wanted me to teach him yoga poses to ease the pain. When my friend told me how much she hated her job, I thought she wanted me to tell her how to find a career she’s passionate about. When my colleague told me about his breakup, I thought he wanted me to encourage him to get back out there.

    Now I know better.

    We Don’t Want Advice (Unless We Ask for It)

    Most people who call themselves “empaths” also suffer from this affliction.

    We think because we feel another’s pain as if it were our own—and find it easy to put ourselves in other people’s shoes—that it’s our responsibility to fix that pain. We believe we need to offer a solution because sitting with the pain is uncomfortable for us and for them. We want to rescue them. We think advice is what they need.

    Turns out, this isn’t true. I learned this lesson when my sister told me about a big argument she was having with her best friend.

    As we sat eating noodles over dinner, she shared how hurt she felt and how unsure she was about whether their friendship would recover. I offered a few suggestions: “Have you tried calling her instead of texting? Could you ask her to meet for coffee so you can talk it out? Maybe when you do, you should take it in turns to speak to each other, while the other listens without interrupting?”

    She looked at me with a flash of annoyance.

    “Becki, I don’t need you to fix this for me. Please don’t give me advice about it. I just want you to listen.”

    Admittedly, this took me aback. She just wants me to listen? As in, sit there and say… nothing?

    “Yes, that’s exactly what I want,” she said. “Maybe you can tell me what you heard so I know you’ve been listening. But I don’t want any tips. Thanks.”

    Honestly, this was a total revelation. Since my sister is pretty direct, she has no problem asking for what she wants and needs from me (or anyone else). But most of us are too polite—or too scared—to ask for what we really want.

    When I thought about it, I realized that when I share my inner world with someone, I don’t want a solution, unless I explicitly ask for one.

    What I actually want is to be heard.

    Wait, so just listening is enough?

    We don’t share parts of ourselves with others in an effort to receive tips and tricks. When that’s what we want, Google has us covered.

    Personally, I share with people because I want to receive support. That support can be as simple as someone looking me in the eye and saying, “I get it.” Letting my pain exist between us and letting it be okay that it’s there. Making me feel less alone.

    The need to be seen, heard, and understood—the need to matter—is universal.

    Ironically, when we try to help others by rescuing them, we don’t meet this need at all. In fact, what we’re saying is, “I don’t believe you have the resources you need to find your own solution to this. Here’s what I know, so do this instead.”

    We’re saying their pain isn’t okay. That it needs fixing.

    I’m also ashamed to say that, more often than not, I make someone else’s problems about me. If they tell me what’s on their mind, I might share my experience of a similar situation (and how I dealt with it) or emotionally react to what they’ve said (so they end up taking care of me instead of the other way around).

    Recently, my partner said he’s having an issue with our relationship.

    “I want to tell you this, but it would be great if I could talk without you reacting to it,” he said. “If you could just listen—without sharing your thoughts—and give me space to be open about this with you. Then we can have a dialogue afterwards. Is that okay?”

    Now, let me be clear. It’s been years since my sister taught me to quit giving advice and calling it “empathy.” I thought I’d become so much better at listening. As it turns out, I’m better at not trying to fix people. But I still have a tendency to react to people’s stories with my own thoughts and opinions, instead of showing that I’m actually hearing them.

    “He knows I’m an emotional creature, though,” I said to myself. “What the hell does he expect?!”

    On some level, this is true. We empaths are emotional creatures. It’s how we’re wired.

    But I decided not to use this as an excuse. If I wanted to experience the kind of love, intimacy, and connection I really craved, I needed to learn how to be there for people—without inserting myself into their problems.

    What True Empathy Is—and Isn’t

    In my studies, ranging from the work of Marshall Rosenberg and Nonviolent Communication to everything by Brené Brown, here’s what I’ve learned about empathy so far.

    First of all, empathy is something we do. Not something we are.

    Yes, some of us are more naturally empathic and find it easier to relate to others. But true empathy is a skill. It’s something we can learn and improve at. Plus, many of us who call ourselves “empaths”—myself included—think we don’t need to work on these skills. Trust me, we do. We all have blind spots.

    Let’s say a friend comes to us and says they’re having a hard time right now. They’re in piles of credit card debt and feel like they’re drowning. They’re working extra hours and even started a side hustle to pay it off, but they still feel stressed, overwhelmed, and burnt out.

    Feeling the urge to offer advice already? Yeah, me too.

    Instead, let’s pause and think about what our friend wants. They might be feeling ashamed, so it’s vulnerable for them to share this with us. Since they’re already actively working to solve the problem, they probably don’t need our best debt-clearing tips, either.

    Here’s what true empathy might look like in this situation:

    • Consciously staying centered, grounded, and present with our friend
    • Paying attention to what they’re saying and reminding ourselves it’s about them, not about us
    • Maintaining eye contact, nodding, and offering non-verbal cues so they know we’re listening (“mmm”)
    • Reflecting what they’ve told us (“I’m hearing you feel really stressed about this and you’re worried about paying your rent next month”)
    • Using this magic question: “Is there more you want to say about that?”
    • Asking before offering advice and being okay with hearing a “no” (“I have an idea that might help. Do you want to hear it?”)
    • Asking before jumping in with our thoughts (“I’d like to share my perspective on this with you. Are you open to hearing it?”)

    And here’s what it wouldn’t look like:

    • Offering judgments, analyses, or opinions on what they could—or should—be doing differently (“You should read this great personal finance book.”)
    • Dismissing their feelings and therefore invalidating them (“It will be fine.” Or “Yes, but at least you have enough money to get by; some people don’t even have that.”)
    • One-upping them by sharing a personal experience which seems worse (“I know what you mean, I got myself into twice that amount of debt a few years ago…”)
    • Explaining why we think it’s happening and trying to pinpoint the reasons (“Your parents never taught you how to manage your money.”)
    • Sympathizing with them (“Oh, you poor thing, what a mess you’re in.”)
    • Educating them about what we’ve learned and how this can be applied to their situation (“I started by saving 20% of my paycheck; that might work for you.”)
    • Sneakily “coaching” or interrogating them—especially if we’re qualified coaches (“How are you getting in your own way here? How has been in debt kept you feeling safe in some way?”)

    Looking at these two lists, it’s clear what I’d like to receive from another human in response to the debt situation. The first list feels far more intimate, affirming, and nourishing. Despite this, I still find myself doing things on the second list all the time.

    Luckily, I get tons of practice to develop my empathy skills.

    I get daily practice with my partner, my family, and my friends. I even get it with the elderly woman who sits next to me on the bus, the friendly barista at my local coffee shop, and the cashier at my nearest supermarket. I don’t always do it perfectly, and that’s alright.

    I’m just trying to remember that people don’t need me to fix them. They’re not broken.

    What they need is for me to present with them. To be with them—to listen—without the need to do anything. For us to dance in the pain, together. And maybe, just maybe, that’s more than enough.

  • How to Cope with a Toxic and Estranged Family Relationship

    How to Cope with a Toxic and Estranged Family Relationship

    “Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.” ~Unknown

    You two are family. Maybe you grew up with them and were by their side for a huge chunk of their life. There was a lot of laughing, crying, and sharing. Some fighting too.

    You know how their brain works probably better than anyone else. But sometimes, in adulthood, those closest to you can become unrecognizable—estranged, cold, and careless. For no apparent reason, you find yourself shut out of their life. Your peace-feelers are increasingly rejected. You’ve been left out in the cold.

    There is always a reason why people turn out the way they do. But, sometimes the metamorphosis is so gradual that it sneaks up on you, and one day, you wake up and wonder, “How did it come to this?”

    You want them back. So you start to question and blame yourself. Was it the time I chose to go to the party instead of keeping her company? Was it when I used his things without asking? What did I do to deserve this? What can I do to make it better?

    While it’s good to ask yourself such questions, sometimes the lesson you are meant to learn is to let go of the memory of who they were and accept who they have become.

    This is based on my own relationship with my sister. We’d always been close, and when I was growing up, I looked up to her as my role model. I was shy, nerdy, and runty. She was pretty, popular, and good at sports.

    But after she went to college and, four years later, I followed suit on another continent, our lives didn’t really intersect. When we did meet, we’d butt heads about a lot of things. She had grown bitter in the years post high school, while I’d grown up, become assertive, and was impulsively exploring the world. Still, despite our differences, I thought we’d always be there for one another.

    Then she got married to a man who doesn’t get along with me or our parents. They began living in a strange emotional autarky.

    She grew very cold, defensive, and resentful toward our family and began to cut me out of her life. I tried to reach out and mend the relationship, but she refused to open up. She’s always been proud that way.

    One day when I told her I loved her and wished we could be close like before, she replied, “That was a long time ago.”

    Over the last few years, the relationship has really gone downhill. I’ve struggled with the hurt of “losing” my sister, as well as feelings of self-blame as I struggled to find a reason for her change. I have racked my brain for memories of what I could’ve done wrong, but my mind draws a blank.

    Then, I decided I didn’t want to dwell on feeling hurt any longer. I didn’t want to keep longing for and trying to rekindle the sisterhood we once had.

    I have come to realize my sister is not the person I once knew, and I have to accept that, learn to let go, and move on. That is how I decided to take certain decisions for the sake of my own happiness and mental health.

    I hope this advice can help those who may be experiencing a toxic and estranged relationship with a family member with whom they had once been close.

    1. Identify in what ways the relationship may be toxic and how it makes you feel.

    A toxic relationship can manifest in many ways. Perhaps your relative always puts you down, lacks empathy, acts passive-aggressive, or ignores you when you speak.

    Once you have pinpointed the person’s patterns of behavior, become aware of how this affects your mood, body language, energy levels, self-esteem, and peace of mind. Knowing how to recognize toxicity and its effects is the first step to understanding your feelings and empowering yourself to deal with the situation.

    2. Accept that you may never find the root cause for your relative’s behavior.

    People do therapy for years—there’s never a simple answer. You may be able to talk to your relative to find out why s/he acts a certain way. You may not. Sometimes, the reason why a person treats you badly may not have anything to do with what you’ve done, but might just be the way they process and respond to their own life experiences. Hardships may strengthen one person and make another bitter.

    In any case, try to reframe toxicity by understanding it tends to come from a place of unhappiness or discontent. People’s hurtful actions will then become less hurtful to you when you realize they reflect their inner state rather than you.

    3. Do not normalize toxicity.

    If you have done nothing wrong, don’t forget it is not normal for anyone to continually be negative, inconsiderate, and hurtful toward you. It is very easy to lose perspective about what is right and wrong, especially when you are constantly justifying a person’s behavior with stories of their past traumas or hardships.

    People tend to make concessions for difficult or estranged loved ones because they wish to forgive and forget, avoid conflict, or do not want to push the person farther away. Empathy is good, but it cannot be used to keep making excuses for terrible behavior. Sometimes you need to set limits and say “enough!” before such behavior becomes the new normal.

    4. Don’t expect anything from your estranged relative.

    Yes, you might expect your family to have your back because you’d do the same, but don’t count on it with an estranged relative with whom you struggle to maintain a relationship. I’ve learned not to be dependent or expect any help from my sister, even though I grew up believing that’s what siblings should do for one another.

    5. Realize it takes two people to fix a relationship.

    As much as you try, if the other person is not ready or not willing, you may not fix much. The relationship will remain toxic for as long as the person is unable to change. You cannot blame yourself for it. You have done your best.

    6. Decide how much space you want to give them in your life.

    You will probably encounter your relative again at family gatherings, or you may need to communicate with them about family matters. In this case, minimize the amount of time you spend in their presence and keep communication to a minimum.

    Sometimes, though, you may need to cut them out of your life entirely, whether permanently or momentarily. Keeping a space open for them and constantly making the effort to reach out is emotionally exhausting.

    Once you have deemed you have tried enough and done your best, don’t feel guilty about drawing the line and deciding that enough is enough.

    7. Don’t bottle things up.

    Communicate your feelings to people you trust. If the person knows your relative, you may learn that they also share the same feelings of hurt and disappointment in dealing with him/her.

    Talking through your feelings is therapeutic and helps you acquire perspective about the situation.

    In my case, my parents also have a toxic relationship with my sibling, and I found that letting them talk about it and encouraging them not to bottle things up has been a great release for them.

    8. Refrain from frequently gossiping about your relative, especially to a wide circle of people.

    There is a difference between sharing your feelings with people you trust and constantly focusing all conversations on this individual and what s/he did or said. You risk getting into the habit of speaking badly of someone, and the conversation will often just keep going around in circles. Also, the negative talk can return to your relative’s ears and feed the cycle of negativity and estrangement.

    Instead, decrease the mental and emotional energy spent thinking about your relative, and focus on the positive aspects of your life and your loved-ones’ lives.

    9. Don’t give your relative an opportunity to blame you.

    People like my sister are often extreme narcissists who blame everyone but themselves. It is important not to give him or her ammunition for this blame-game. If he/she always shows up late, acts rude, never tidies up, or uses your things, resist the temptation to do the same in return. Do the right thing and s/he won’t be able to reproach you for anything.

    10. Accept you may not be able to have a frank, heart-to-heart conversation.

    My sister goes through life demonstrating a character devoid of vulnerability or weakness. If you are faced with an emotionally inaccessible and excessively proud individual, you may have to accept the fact that you may never have that cathartic moment of truth you so crave. Strive for closure on your side and move on.

    11. Shift your focus.

    Do not dwell on the pain and hurt of “losing” a relative. Don’t focus on trying to grapple with the toxic relationships in your life. Build upon the positive ones you have instead. Accept the cards that life has dealt you and make the best of them. Live your life and cultivate your soul. Be content and grateful for what you have and who you are, for that is more than enough to fill a heart with happiness!

    **This post was originally published in October, 2017.

  • How I Reclaimed My Life When I Felt Numb and Unhappy

    How I Reclaimed My Life When I Felt Numb and Unhappy

    “All appears to change when we change.” ~Henri-Frédéric Amiel

    The biggest life-changing moment in my life would have looked unremarkable to an outsider looking in.

    I was at a point in my life (my late twenties) where everything seemed to look good on paper. I had a great job, I was living in downtown Seattle, and I enjoyed the live music scene. Aside from not being in a relationship, I thought I had “arrived.”

    The only problem was, I was miserable, and I barely acknowledged it. A part of me knew that I wasn’t happy, but I tried to run away from that feeling by playing guitar, writing, or watching live music as much as I could.

    My other avoidance tactics were working long hours at my day job or socially drinking at “hip” bars in the city.

    But every time I came home, there I was. Still grappling with my feelings and trying to understand why happiness was so fleeting.

    I had also recently broken up with someone that I cared about but knew was not healthy for me. She was a heavy drinker, and because I tended to just blend in with my partners, my drinking had increased substantially when I was with her, and I felt horrible (physically and emotionally).

    It was a messy ending, and it left me even more confused. I should be so happy. “Why aren’t I?” This nagging thought haunted me for several months.

    Moment of Awareness and Choice

    One afternoon, I came home from work and mindlessly went through my routine. Dropped my bag off by the door. Changed into comfort clothes. Went to the refrigerator and opened a beer.

    I then plopped on the sofa and turned on the television. This was my routine for several mind-numbing months.

    When I reflect back on this moment, I can see that I was absently flipping through every channel available through the cable box. Interested in absolutely nothing. I would take a tug on the beer in one hand without even tasting it while changing channels with the remote in another hand.

    I was literally in a trance and not really processing anything. I was running on autopilot, without any conscious awareness, as channel after channel flipped by.

    And that’s when it happened. It was like the background noise in one part of my mind suddenly became amplified. I could hear thought after thought running through my mind like a CNN news crawl.

    The shocking part, for me, was how negative these thoughts were. “You’re no good. Nobody loves you. You’re a failure. You’ll never find someone who loves you. You’re not worth it.”

    I also had the realization that I’d heard these thoughts before but had chosen to stuff them down or mute the volume through distraction.

    But here they were. Loud and blaring. I was forced to face them once again.

    I was in a state of disbelief for several minutes while some choice expletives escaped my lips.

    Once the shock wore off, there was an overwhelming sense that I had reached a huge fork in the road.

    One choice led to stuffing these thoughts back down to wherever they came from and going back to sucking down a beer mindlessly watching television.

    And then, magically, a second choice came out of nowhere. Stop everything and just sit with these thoughts.

    I remember simply saying, “Huh!” out loud. I never realized that I had choices. I was programmed to run and hide.

    I became aware that this was a prodigious moment for me. I could feel chills run through my entire body.

    The choice was: Go to sleep again or just be present and experience these thoughts.

    Something deep within me knew which path to choose. It was the strongest sense of knowing I had ever experienced. I also knew that if I didn’t get on this train right now, I may be lost forever. It almost felt like a life-or-death decision.

    It was in that moment of choice that I finally gave in. I stopped resisting and avoiding. I chose to sit in the discomfort and not run away and hide anymore.

    The Choice to Pursue “Better”

    As soon as I made the choice to stay and be with these negative thoughts, my body jumped into action. As if someone else was not at the controls.

    In one long, swooping motion, I turned off the television, went over to the kitchen sink, and dumped out the rest of my beer. I then took a deep breath, walked to my living room, and sat cross-legged on the floor.

    I’d never meditated before but had heard of it. I was strongly interested in Buddhism when I was in college but never took the steps to explore what it was all about. I figured there was no better time than now to just try it.

    All I know was, in that moment, I made the firm decision that I was just going to sit and be with my thoughts. No matter how intense of a ride it would be or how crazy just sitting in silence seemed to be.

    I still remember those first moments of being in silence. It was a bittersweet experience. The bitter side was experiencing all of the mean and nasty thoughts running through my mind at full volume. There didn’t seem to be an end to it.

    But there was also a sweetness in the silence that was bathing my experience. There was a peace here that I had never experienced before. It was like being cuddled in a warm bosom, and I soon felt the negative words less scary to be with.

    I can’t remember how long I sat in silence on that first day, but it was at least a couple of hours. I remember opening and closing my eyes several times. I was checking to make sure I was still in my living room.

    It was like figuring out if you can trust wading into a lake you’ve never been to. Slowly, step by step. And certain moments I needed to take open my eyes and just allow myself to feel comfortable before going further.

    There were also moments where I felt “myself” leave my body, which honestly scared the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks out of me. It was such a foreign experience. Even though I could feel some sort of a chord holding me to my body, I had never experienced being able to pop out and look down at my cross-legged self below. I was both intrigued and a bit freaked out at the same time.

    But I then started to hear a different voice coming in. A gentler voice.  One assuring me that everything was okay.

    I was guided to just be with the process and that I would eventually get comfortable and not need to pop out of my body. And for the first time in a long time, I started to relax.

    Eventually, I noticed that by letting my thoughts just float through, they would start to fade away until there was just sweet silence, and then more thoughts would come back at a lower volume. I still had no idea what I was doing, but I was feeling better and that was all that mattered.

    I didn’t realize it, but just sitting with my thoughts was making a statement. I was now broadcasting, “I want to learn how to be happy and more loving. I am not going to run away anymore.”

    From that moment on, I came home from work every day and just meditated. I got rid of my cable box and allowed myself to be open to new opportunities. I was guided by a friend to hire a life coach and started to address things in my life that prevented me from experiencing happiness.

    For example, I realized that I’d deadened my ability to tap into emotions because I worked in the aerospace industry, where it was all about facts and data.

    By using my new friend, awareness, I started to identify emotions that I had never really processed, examined, or tried to heal. One particular healing moment was visiting the anger I held from going to an all-boys Catholic high school. I was one of the smallest kids and got picked on from time to time.

    I didn’t even realize how much anger was simmering below the surface. It wasn’t until I was aware of it and then had permission to express my feelings, that I was finally free of my long-held anger about being teased and bullied.

    I also faced the fear I’d developed after being in an airplane crash at nineteen and had a beautiful moment of release with tears flowing like the Nile. It never occurred to me that I held onto to so much trauma and that it was begging to be released.

    The more I became aware of my past and released it, the lighter and happier I naturally became. I caught myself whistling to work one day, something that I hadn’t done in years!

    I also got into Buddhism and energy healing and soaked in all forms of spirituality that interested me. It was a joyous time of learning and trying.

    But ultimately, I knew that just learning was not enough. I needed to practice the ideas of love, healing, and forgiveness in the world.

    “Leveling Up” with Awareness and Choice

    When I look back on that moment where I finally stopped and chose a different way to be in the world, I recognize that was the most defining moment in my life.

    Sure, I have attended many spiritual workshops, retreats, and trainings and have had “mountaintop” experiences. But they never would have happened if I hadn’t made the choice stop and be completely present with my thoughts.

    Our minds are constantly in and out of awareness (awake) and unawareness (asleep). It takes diligence and practice to stay awake and to make loving choices.

    Think about how much of your day you’re actually aware of your thoughts or habits vs. when you are on “automatic pilot” doing tasks or zoning out over social media.

    Here are some ways to remain aware and at choice throughout your day:

    1. Set a goal for the day. Something like: “I want to be aware of my thoughts at work and think lovingly.” Set an hourly reminder on your phone to check in throughout the day.
    2. Put a post-it note with the words “Awareness and Choice” next to your work space or area where you spend most of your time to remind yourself to be present with your internal experience. Place it where you will see it often.
    3. Schedule meditation “dates” throughout your day. See if you can sneak in five five-minute meditations throughout the day. Set reminders if you need to.
    4. Pick someone in your life that you have a hard time being with (especially at work). Have a conversation with that person and watch your thoughts. Choose to see them differently in the moment (as best as you can).
    5. At the end of the day, review the thoughts you had about yourself or others. Go back to times in the day where you were hard on yourself or someone else. Replace those thoughts with ones you would rather have said to yourself.

    Awareness and choice are a powerful duo that can change your life for the better. Both are needed. Awareness is taking in what’s present. Choice is taking steps to move your awareness in your intended direction.

    Look to see where you can benefit from awareness and choice in your life. Then set your compass toward happiness and enjoy the journey!

  • How to Tame Your ‘Tornado’ Mind and Stop Overthinking Everything

    How to Tame Your ‘Tornado’ Mind and Stop Overthinking Everything

    “You don’t suffer because you have thoughts. You suffer because you judge them, resist them, believe them, wallow in them, or identify with them.” ~Unknown

    At one point in my life, I wondered, “Will things always be this way?”

    So rushed, with barely a moment to call my own. Current events swirling around, reflecting the worst side of humanity. Lost under the weight of my to-do lists, financial worries, and deadlines.

    I barely knew where my thoughts stopped and I started. Would I always be this anxious, irritated, distracted, and isolated from those around me? Even from loved ones?

    Most of my days I was running around like a headless chicken. My brain going at 120 miles an hour. I was either asleep or thinking. There was no ‘off’ switch. I couldn’t seem to slow down or focus my ‘tornado’ mind.

    All that thinking inevitably led to anxiety. It was hard to quiet the chaotic state an anxious mind had. When I was anxious about what the future held or past regrets, my mind would race.

    When my day ended, I struggled to switch off from thinking about work. And come the weekend, I couldn’t sit still for five minutes.

    My racing mind was useful in creative processes. Like a thought factory. I could go to sleep on a problem and have the solution by the morning.

    I could problem-solve challenges quickly. But it was a balancing act. I took the bad so I could achieve the good. The bad was overprocessing negative situations, obsessing over drama, insomnia, stress, and binge eating.

    I was constantly trying to work things out in my head, to the point where I felt like Sherlock Holmes solving a case. It was constant, non-stop head chatter. It was as though I was in a noisy room all day.

    Many times, these thoughts were things I could do nothing about. But I continued to worry.

    At bedtime I’d be on my phone until I fell asleep, which was not helpful. Whatever I was doing on my phone (browsing the net, scrolling through Facebook, or playing games) kept me distracted from my thoughts. I did that until my brain got so tired I fell asleep.

    I wanted to bring me back to myself. Back to a peaceful, connected stillness that enriched my life. I wanted to feel more grounded and centered.

    Even when I tried to meditate, my ‘Nascar’ mind would take over: “Is this going to work? How will I even know if it works? This better work, it’s costing quite a bit of money. Look at this guy trying to teach me how to meditate. Should I trust someone with such big ears? Has this started to work yet? Am I doing it right? Why am I not feeling calm and relaxed yet? I must be doing something wrong. Should I be more patient?”

    It reached a point where I realized something had to change… I couldn’t carry on like this. Either I changed or I would slowly crash, burn, and hit rock bottom.

    So I went on a quest to find answers. I took it upon myself to become an expert in mindfulness meditation. Out of all the mental health tools I tried, mindfulness meditation had the most promising results.

    Long story short, I found answers to this ‘tornado’ mind problem of mine. But it wasn’t what I expected.

    There was good news, and there was bad news.

    The bad news is we can’t control our minds or its thoughts. We can’t quiet or stop our minds from thinking.

    Think about it this way: Your mind is like a bad roommate. This roommate is noisy, messy, and pessimistic.

    Our roommate has “Chicken Little syndrome.” He freaks out about everything. His fear-based mindset thinks everything can and will go wrong.

    Now, we don’t have control over this roommate. We can’t force our will onto him. And we can’t make him do things to our liking.

    Because it will only make our roommate (mind) freak out even more! It’s a vicious cycle. The more we force it, the worse the destructive behavior gets. It’s like the quote “Whatever we resist will persist.”

    Ok, so that’s the bad news. Let’s get to the good news.

    Even though we can’t quiet, stop, or shut down our mind’s chronic thinking, we can create space between us and our minds.

    Let’s go back to the roommate analogy. We can’t control our roommate’s behavior, but we can create space between ourselves and our roommate (mind).

    For example: we can get out of the house, and do something pleasant, like take a walk in nature.

    When we are not around our roommate life is much easier.

    There’s no voice in the background nagging, freaking out, or worrying about every little thing. Not only does it help with chronic thinking, but the more space we create, the less we fuel our mind.

    Our mind is like fire. The more we fuel it, the bigger and stronger it gets.

    The more time we spend in our head, the more our mind pulls us out of the present. It can drown us in its ocean of thoughts and emotions, making it impossible for us to be calm, quiet, and at peace.

    Instead of drowning in this ocean overwhelmed by crashing waves, let’s create some space and rather observe the waves standing on the beach. That’s what creating space does. It takes you out of the chaos so you can observe it safely from a distance.

    How do we go about creating space between us and the mind?

    See what I did there?

    I didn’t call it our or my mind; I called it the mind. Your words are powerful, so choose them carefully.

    You can start referring to the mind like it’s a third person, not like it’s part of you. You can give it a name. Something like Mr. Mind or Anxious Andy.

    When the mind throws a tantrum, we give ourselves space by saying, “It’s just Mr. Mind freaking out. No need to let it affect me.”

    Why? Because it’s true. You are not your mind. You are the one sitting in the seat of your soul observing this “thought factory” we call our mind. You are so much more than your mind. The mind is just a tool that’s at your disposal.

    And the best way to get out of our heads is to drop down into your bodies. Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, “There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy.”

    We have a mind-body connection. That mind-body connection needs to be in balance. We can’t live in our head all day. The more time we spend stuck in our heads, the more we need to be in our bodies to create balance.

    When you drop down into your body, it’s like a hug to your soul. Your body says, “Welcome home.”

    Your body loves and craves your attention. Here are some ways you can give it some tender loving care:

    Forest bathing.

    Being in nature, observing the sheer beauty of it, forces us into our body’s senses. Our senses anchor us in the present moment. I try to spend at least an hour a week in nature to ground myself. Even if you live in an urban environment, try having a few plants in your apartment or going to a public park. Do the best you can with what you have.

    Cold showers.

    This one sucks, but it makes up for how effective it is. It’s like exercise. You dread going, but it always feels better afterward. It’s like a reset button for your mental state. Start out with a hot shower and finish with thirty seconds of cold. It doesn’t have to be at its coldest. Do what feels best for you, but ensure it’s somewhat uncomfortable.

    Breathing meditation.

    Feel and observe your breath. Notice how the in and out breaths affect the rest of your body. The shoulders lifting. The chest expanding. It’s important to feel your breath and not think about it or analyze it. Big difference.

    Body-scan meditation.

    Some meditators resonate better with a body scan meditation than with breathing meditation. What’s great about a body-scan meditation is it’s easier to meditate for longer periods compared to other meditations. Ensure the time you meditate is in line with your to-do list. The longer your to-do list, the longer you need to meditate.

    Move your body.

    Yoga is especially good at helping us get out of our heads and into our bodies. But find whatever activity you resonate with. Notice I said movement, not exercise. Movement is much more pleasant. Especially if it’s an activity you enjoy. Try something different like: roller blading, rock climbing, walking, hiking—whatever gives you enough joy that you’ll want to do it consistently.

    Journaling.

    I recommend writing over typing. Putting pen to paper may work better at grounding you in your body than typing on a keyboard.

    I also recommend Julia Cameron’s technique called “Morning Pages.” It works well if you are prone to wake up with a million thoughts racing through your mind, since this gives the mind space to vent and let out all its worries.

    First thing in the morning write out three pages of whatever is on your mind. There is no wrong way to do this. If you can’t think of anything to write, then write about that. Journaling in the morning helps you start the day with calm and clarity.

    Mindful breaks.

    Batch your work into twenty-five-minute sessions. Not a minute longer. After every twenty-five-minute session, take a five-minute mindful break. In that break, check in with your body. Take a moment and feel into your body.

    This is not a thinking exercise, it’s a feeling exercise. Feel into your body to find out what it needs. It’s like a quick body scan.

    If you don’t listen to your body’s whispers, it will start shouting. Your body speaks up for you when you don’t speak up for yourself.

    So, if you feel your body needs oxygen, take a short brisk walk with some deep breaths. If your body feels tense, do a few basic stretches. If your body feels dehydrated, drink water. If your body feels the need to go to the bathroom, do so. If your body feels hungry, feed it. During those five minutes, make a point of it to stand up and get away from your desk.

    —

    As you can see, pretty much anything that forces us to focus on our bodies will work. The more you do it, the less the mind has power over you. You’re not fuelling it anymore.

    After doing these exercises for some time, you’ll look at your mind the same way an adult looks at a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

    You’ll have empathy for the tantrum-throwing mind. You’re a safe witness and can make objective decisions without the mind hijacking your vision of the truth. You use your mind, not the other way around.

    You see things as they are. You don’t give meaning to it or add stories to the facts.

    Life just ‘is.’ When you surrender to the powerful yet gentle flow of life your days seem effortless. You’re able to go through daily life untethered.

    Realize you have a beautiful biological machine; you just need a manual on how to use it.

  • How to Avoid a Soul-Crushing Life Crisis

    How to Avoid a Soul-Crushing Life Crisis

    “Sometimes it takes an overwhelming breakdown to have an unbelievable breakthrough.” ~Unknown

    I had hit rock bottom.

    Now that means different things to different people, so let me explain what my rock bottom meant.

    I’ll start with my physical health. I was underweight, about twenty-five pounds. My face looked gaunt and scrawny.

    I was hypertensive, even though I was eating a healthy diet. I also had severe eczema. The itching was so bad that I woke up in the middle of the night with my legs covered in blood from the scratching.

    The only thing that helped make the eczema less itchy was if my wife covered my whole body with bags of frozen peas.

    On top of that, my energy was down the drain. Some weekends I would lie in bed the whole day.

    My emotions were all over the place. Most nights I wept myself to sleep. I was anxious, stressed, depressed, and there were a few times that I wanted to end my life.

    The only thing that kept me from doing it was the potential pain it would cause my wife and family. I couldn’t put them through it.

    I was so ashamed of my state and so afraid of being judged that I completely isolated myself from all relationships. So, I lost connection with all my friends.

    My work performance had also gotten so bad that my employer retrenched and took legal action against me. I can’t blame them though.

    For most of my life, I had been an overachiever. Most of the time, I got what I wanted. I kept asking myself, how did I let things get so bad?

    Here are a few of the lessons I’d like to share in the hope that I can help someone avoid a similar breakdown. When I started applying these lessons, I saw a massive improvement in my life.

    1. Let go of control.

    I have a confession: I’m a bit of a control nut. What kept me from living a fulfilled life was resisting and wanting to control the present moment, especially when it wasn’t in line with my expectations.

    I would do everything in my power to either avoid the situation or change it. I discovered that whatever you resist will persist. So the more I resisted unwanted situations, the more they appeared in my life—because I hadn’t yet learned the lesson.

    Eckhart Tolle wrote, “Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness.”

    It took me a while to learn this way of thinking. To say I’m stubborn is an understatement. But I finally learned the secret of surrendering and going with the flow.

    Resistance creates emotional turmoil that zaps you of your energy. You can even see how resistance manifests itself through your body. For example, you might frown, or tighten your chest, stomach, or shoulders. Let it go and let it be.

    We humans are too shortsighted to see the long-term benefit of that supposed horrible situation we’re resisting. But trust me, in the long term, it’ll make you a better version of your old self if you embrace it and let yourself learn and grow from the experience.

    2. Don’t try to do everything on your own.

    Pride can kill you. It almost killed me. Not only am I stubborn, I also used to think I knew better than everyone else. That led me to want to do everything on my own because I didn’t trust anyone.

    Now I’m much more trusting and can let go of a few responsibilities. I still keep my finger on the pulse, though. But instead of having too much on my plate, I know rather find someone that has the results I desire and work with them as a mentor, coach, or consultant. And that’s for all areas of my life. It’s much faster, cheaper, and less frustrating.

    3. Trust your gut.

    If you ignore your gut, you’ll allow people to force their will, beliefs, and opinions onto you. Your gut knows best.

    It’s about building your intuition and your ability to listen to your instincts. Sometimes we know what to do, yet we avoid the situation because we’re afraid to do it or scared of the potential outcome.

    If you avoid your gut for too long it will stop whispering and start shouting. Because it’s also the universe’s way of communicating with you. Telling you that you are not living life according to your highest values.

    It’s cool that we have this built-in tool that can guide us throughout life. And at the same time, it’s heart-breaking that some people don’t know this or refuse to use it. Don’t be one of them.

    4. Give up the “if/then” illusion.

    “If I’m successful, then I’ll be happy.” I know it sounds cliché, but life is all about the journey. Because there is no destination…

    There will always be a new challenge you seek. Think about it, every time you’ve reached a certain milestone you probably asked yourself, “Is this it?” And then you proceeded to chase a new goal, thinking it would give you the fulfillment you desire.

    Trust me, that fulfillment never comes. Fulfillment can only be found in the present moment. The trick is to be grateful for your current blessings, however small they might be.

    And also, detach from specific outcomes. Remember rule #1? Go with the flow!

    Don’t make the mistake I did by saying you’ll be fulfilled when X, Y, or Z happens. The planets are never going to align. The right time is now.

    5. Commit to a routine.

    Routine and structure keep us sane in the face of chaos and uncertainty. There are so many things we don’t have control over. Especially the situations (sometimes unwanted) that life throws our way.

    When we feel overwhelmed, the best way to ground ourselves is through a routine, including a morning routine to start your day right.

    That may include exercise, meditation, journaling, visualizing your ideal future, reading a spiritual book, etc. Doing a morning routine is like exercising. You don’t always feel motivated to do it, but you will feel like a new person afterward.

    6. Build a strong foundation.

    I always used to chase the wrong goals (wealth, success, money) to the detriment of my physical and emotional health and my relationships.

    I learned the hard way that no amount of money can buy those three things. If you don’t have them in place, you have nothing.

    I see so many “successful” people making this mistake. They reach the top of the mountain without those three things and then they get depressed or even commit suicide.

    Trust me, it’s not worth it. Make time for self-care—exercise, eat well, get enough sleep, get outside—and prioritize time with the people you love. Once those three foundational elements are in place, then feel free to chase the more material goals.

    7. Stop chasing happiness.

    So this one is a bit controversial, but hear me out. There is a universal law that keeps balance in the world. It’s like a pendulum.

    If you swing too far to the right, you’ll swing just as far to the left. This happened to me. I was chasing happiness and resisting sadness thinking that I was doing something wrong whenever I felt down.

    I learned that if I swing too far to the right (happiness) the universe will bring me back to center by swinging the pendulum to the left (sadness).

    Do you want to know what’s at the center of the pendulum and how to remain balanced? It’s love and gratitude—two things you can feel no matter what’s going on in your life.

    The universe, in her infinite wisdom, knows this and tries to teach us this. So be sure to do some gratitude journaling whenever you get a chance. Or be grateful for the small things in life whenever they arise. The things we sometimes take for granted.

    8. Be authentic.

    I always admired my grandmother. Not for her baking and cooking skills, but for how honest she can be. She tells it straight. She’s not trying to be something or someone she’s not. And I’ve seen this pattern in many elderly people.

    My best guess is that they have learned that life is too short to be inauthentic and not speak their mind. This is the exact opposite of how I acted.

    I tried to be something someone else wanted me to be. Or worse, I agreed with people because I wanted their approval even though my gut disagreed (rule #3!).

    Anyway, I’ve learned to be honest even if it’s uncomfortable. I now speak my mind (even if it hurts), and people respect me more for it.

    I’m not saying you should go around being mean and insulting people. I’m saying be classy, and be true to yourself. I know it can be hard, but the long-term benefits are worth it.

    9. Live life based on your own values.

    I’ve learned through my experiences that the purpose of life is to live life on your terms. Whatever that might be. The mistake I made was by living life on someone else’s terms. Living life through other people’s values instead of my own. Only we know what’s best for us.

    This allows me to respect other people’s values even if they didn’t align with my own. Even though I think I know what’s best for someone else, I don’t! I have no right to judge them or their situation. Everyone has their own journey. And let me share another secret with you…

    Once you know what you want out of life, give it! If you want love, give love. If you want money (value), give value. If you want respect, give respect.

    10. Choose consistency over intensity.

    I’m very intense, and I’ve always had this ‘go cold turkey’ approach to chasing my goals instead of easing into things.

    Now that might work for some people, but those people are in the minority. What’s helped me more is to be moderately consistent.

    I’ve learned that when I would go all out, I would tend to burn out.

    Take exercise as an example. Let’s say you want to get fit. You’re motivated and you hit the treadmill hard for thirty minutes on day one! The next day you are sore and miserable. That soreness lasts for four to five days.

    Now compare that to the guy who exercises moderately and consistently for ten minutes every day of the week. He isn’t sore and stiff and he gets in seventy minutes of exercise in a week, while the intensity guy only gets in thirty minutes of exercise a week.

    This principle ties in with a great quote from Tony Robbins: “We overestimate what we can accomplish in one year and underestimate what we can accomplish in a decade.” So be the tortoise that wins the race, not the hare.

    —

    The biggest takeaway I want to give you is to focus on love. At the end of the day, that’s all there is. Love others, love what you’re doing, and most of all, love yourself. It’s hard to love others fully if we don’t love ourselves first. You can’t give what you don’t have.

    That being said, I’d LOVE to learn from you! What valuable life lessons have you learned up until this point in your life?

  • Why I’m in Therapy Again, and Not Ashamed to Share It

    Why I’m in Therapy Again, and Not Ashamed to Share It

    “Emotional pain cannot kill you, but running from it can. Allow. Embrace. Let yourself feel. Let yourself heal.” ~Vironika Tugaleva

    Ah, therapy, my old friend. We meet again.

    I thought I’d released you from my life. I thought I no longer needed you to maintain my sanity.

    I was wrong.

    Third time’s a charm, as they say.

    The First Time I Went to Therapy

    I was eighteen when I had my first encounter with therapy. My parents had just divorced under pretty devastating circumstances, and my first serious relationship had crumbled at my feet.

    It was a double betrayal.

    My parents had hidden their divorce from me. I found out on our “family holiday” that we weren’t actually a family anymore. Plus, my partner had secretly been seeing another woman. He started dating her publicly less than a week after our five-year relationship ended.

    I was young, impressionable, and distraught. My whole life felt like a lie.

    I spent weeks wrapped up in the safety of my bed, emerging only to find comfort in food. I dropped out of university. My partner had isolated me from my friends due to his controlling and coercive behavior, which left me feeling totally alone. Everything felt pointless. I had no idea what to do with myself, and my thoughts were starting to scare me. So I sought help.

    Finding a therapist was easy. A quick Google search was all it took.

    But it took a long time to build up the courage to make an appointment, fill out the pre-session questionnaire, and actually walk into the building.

    I remember feeling so much shame. I thought I was weak and ridiculous for not being able to handle my emotions or deal with what was happening—but I also knew that my mental health was on seriously shaky ground.

    So I went.

    I walked into the therapy room, shaking like a leaf. My heart (and my mouth) were melded shut for the first few sessions. My therapist had to carefully wrench it open to encourage me to open up.

    Finally, I did. And when I unburdened myself of all that had been weighing me down, I saw it on her face.

    Judgment.

    At the end of the session, I walked out of that room and never went back. My worst fear—that someone would see the truth about what was alive inside me and judge me because of it—had been realized. I cursed myself for thinking therapy was a good idea.

    And so I tried to forget about my wounds as I unconsciously carried them into the next phase of my life.

    The Second Time I Went to Therapy

    Six years later, I started having debilitating panic attacks on a daily basis. The problem was I felt more than a little resistance to the idea of going to therapy again.

    By this time, my anxiety had steadily increased to the point that it became a normal part of my everyday life.

    I expected to be unable to sleep, constantly feel exhausted, and be plagued by fearful, intrusive thoughts. I got used to the fact that I couldn’t relax, always felt irritable, and lashed out at the people I loved—despite desperately craving their support—because I was in so much emotional pain.

    And honestly, I thought my anxiety was my edge.

    I was completing my master’s degree, and I thought intense stress made me work harder. It felt like a sign I was on the right track. I worked day and night, utterly consumed by my projects. In my head, I was achieving top grades because of my worrying.

    So I put the idea of therapy out of my head until eventually, I hit my breaking point.

    I had a terrifying panic attack while driving at top speed. Unable to breathe, I pulled over to the side of the road to keep myself (and other drivers) safe. It was my third panic attack that day. I’d finally had enough and knew I couldn’t live like this anymore.

    I needed help.

    I was still nervous about going back to therapy. But I was also ready to dig—to excavate all the junk I’d been hauling around and declutter my mind.

    Instead of going with the first therapist who popped up on Google, I did more research this time. I interviewed different people until I found a therapist I vibed with. And because I wanted to be the ‘perfect’ client, I went above and beyond in my therapy work (a big part of which was working on my perfectionism and my need for external validation. Go figure).

    I had a breakthrough. I found a deep sense of inner peace for the first time in my adult life.

    My therapist introduced me to mindfulness, meditation, and yoga—healing tools I’m still learning, practicing, and teaching to this day. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.

    The Third Time I’m Going to Therapy

    These days, I’m in a very different place.

    I’m in tune with myself. I listen to my body. I take time to be still. I do everything therapists tell you to do to stay well. I’ve traversed the territory of my suffering, including childhood trauma.

    And yet, I’m still human. I struggle.

    Specifically, I notice a dynamic playing out in my relationships. I feel intense anxiety about not being enough for my partners and not being worthy of love.

    I worry that they’ll find somebody better and want to leave me. I convince myself that they hide things from me and must be secretly planning their escape. I mourn the loss of love before it’s even happened. No matter how much my partners tell me otherwise, it’s still an issue.

    After much reflection, I know why—I still don’t feel like I’m enough.

    Although I can now recognize it, I need to work on changing that pattern. That’s where therapy comes in.

    The difference is that this time, I know where to go for help. I know what type of help to ask for. And, crucially, I feel zero embarrassment about saying I need that help.

    The first two times I went to therapy, I stayed quiet and stewed in shame. Here are three reasons I’m telling people about it this time around.

    1. Suffering is a universal human experience.

    To be human is to suffer.

    It’s almost impossible for us to live a gorgeously rich, fulfilling life and emerge from it completely unscathed.

    If we open our hearts, we suffer. If we live our truth, we suffer. If we stand up for what’s right—guess what—we suffer.

    Our experiences might not look the same. My story isn’t your story. But the core emotions underneath are what we can relate to.

    You might not have had a nervous breakdown at university, for example, but you might have had one at work. You might have had one after having a child. You might even have just realized you’re heading toward one.

    Maybe you’ve had a panic attack and you know how that feels. Or maybe you can’t stop yourself from worrying, no matter how hard you try.

    Our universal experiences connect us to each other.

    When I reveal the depth of my suffering, people open up and show me theirs. We dance in our shared humanity and release our burdens together.

    Remember this mantra: It’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay to admit I need help and support. We all suffer. Admitting I need help isn’t weak; it’s a brave act of reclaiming my mental well-being.

    2. Hearing others’ stories normalizes our struggle.

    Listening to other people’s stories—on their blogs, podcasts, or books—helped me to accept, and seek help for, my own suffering.

    All too often, I wish I’d heard those stories sooner.

    When I was twenty-two and running my own business (after reading The Four Hour Work Week), what if I’d known that the book’s author had planned to end his life and still suffers from depression? Would I have put so much pressure on myself to be successful?

    Would I have continued to measure myself against him, thinking I wasn’t doing enough? Or would I have seen him as a fellow imperfect human being and perhaps been more vigilant in managing my mental health?

    It’s impossible to know, of course. What I do know is that when people share their stories, it helps others who are going through something similar. Instead of judging them, we feel seen and understood. We feel less alone.

    It normalizes suffering. And it normalizes talking about, and getting help for, that suffering.

    Remember this mantra: There are plenty of people out there who are experiencing (or have experienced) what I’m going through. If they got through it, so can I. There’s hope for me.

    3. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

    The third and most important reason I’m sharing my journey into therapy is simply that I’m not ashamed of it.

    I’m no longer concerned with being perfect, masking my truth, or only showing a polished facade.

    What’s far more important to me is to show my humanity. To acknowledge my imperfections. To love my flaws. To let my clients and students know that I’m a work-in-progress.

    We live in a superficial culture that values appearances above all else. But if all we care about is how our lives look on the outside, we never get to actually live them. We end up spending more time worrying about how many ‘likes’ we get on our Instagram pictures than we do being present in the moment we take them.

    In my experience, the road to freedom is letting go of worrying about what others think.

    So much of my anxiety was caused by perpetual imposter syndrome. I wanted to be seen as someone who was bulletproof. Someone who navigated the world with ease and confidence. Someone who was wildly successful (without really trying) and looked good doing it.

    I worried about being “found out.” I thought if people knew how much I struggled with anxiety and depression, I’d be seen as a fraud and would be exposed as a failure.

    But the people who love and appreciate us for who we really are? Who see our vulnerability and accept us anyway? Those are the people we want in our world.

    Remember this: There’s no shame in suffering. The people who love me will support me when I need it. It’s safe to be who I truly am and let people see the real me.

  • Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    “A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking, because its trust is not on the branch, but in its own wings. Always believe in yourself.”  ~Unknown

    If you’ve ever stopped and thought, “What the hell am I doing?” or “How did I end up here?” believe me when I tell you that you are one of many—including me.

    Feeling lost is stressful enough, but what about when we disappoint ourselves more than anyone around us? What do we do when we have no sense of direction or purpose, and dwindling confidence in ourselves?

    I haven’t yet figured it all out, but that’s just fine. That’s the point exactly, that we don’t have to figure it all out right now. You can be hurting and healing at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.

    I found myself in what would be one of the darkest moments of my life at the ripe age of twenty-five. My girlfriend of five years and I split up as I was planning to propose, an F4 tornado destroyed my hometown, and I quit a successful job in advertising all in a matter of months.

    The truth is, I wasn’t happy in my relationship (even though I told myself I was over the years and through a myriad of fights). I wasn’t truly happy in my career. And I was missing a lot from life in general.

    So I took a hard look at myself—twenty-five, single, jobless, and feeling empty. Not empty in the lonely sense of the word. Empty in that I would wake up in the middle of the night and not see her next to me. Empty in that all my peers were on life’s highway setting goals for themselves, breaking them, and setting new ones thereafter.

    Every opportunity that I had been afforded, I took advantage of and excelled in. But I never found that one thing that fueled the fire in my heart. I don’t think I ever discovered my passion. By twenty-five, surely I must have been getting close, right?

    Many of my friends knew exactly what they wanted to do from a young age. Deep down, I envied that. To know my purpose was what I longed for. So why was I not one of those that automatically knew?

    I don’t yet have that answer, as you might’ve intuited, but I have found two things to be true thus far:

    1. Yes, some people know what they want early in life. But they are the exceptions to the rule.

    Many successful people we know today found success later in life. Stan Lee started the Marvel Universe at thirty-nine, Charles Darwin wrote On the Origin of the Species at fifty, and Grandma Moses began painting at seventy-eight years old.

    Then there are the countless people you’ve never heard of—and probably never will—who found meaning and passion later in life, or found it, lost it, then found it again.

    2. Maybe we are meant to do more than one thing.

    It’s our understanding of success that helps us define when we’ve reached it. Rather than think of success as one destination, we can choose to see it as the car ride from spot to spot, each equally exciting.

    So how do you recover when you feel as though life took you, chewed you up, and spit you back out? You don’t… at least not really.

    I stumbled upon a great quote a few days ago that read, “When people say recovery, you typically think of returning to how you were before. But there is no going back. You do not merely recover, but reinvent yourself. You become something completely different from what you were before.”

    I read that over and over until I felt the wisdom shiver itself into my bones.

    Many times we take a step back from situations to recover, when in fact what we may need to do is reinvent ourselves if we can no longer return to what we used to be.

    It’s not a negative thing, to reinvent who you are. In fact, it’s one of the most liberating experiences you will ever have. You just have to let yourself.

    If you’re anything like me, you are your own biggest critic. And although this can help us keep ourselves accountable, it can prevent us from broadening our horizons. We internally set limits for ourselves based on past experiences, thinking that we can only go as far as we’ve already been. When you learn to let go of the things that no longer serve your purpose but only hinder you, then can you truly soar.

    Let yourself gain new talents and explore new things outside of your comfort zone.

    Sometimes it’s important to let go of the oars and simply float the river. So often we try and paddle upstream when in reality we’d be better off letting the river guide us downstream, to where we haven’t been before.

    Think back to every missed opportunity that you were disappointed with. Many (if not all) of those so called missed opportunities were actually guideposts. Even the accomplishments that didn’t last served their purpose. They were not meant to last, they were only meant to change you.

    What if I would’ve gotten married? I would have never had the opportunity I have right now to move away to Colorado and explore new horizons.

    What if that Tornado wouldn’t have hit my hometown? I used that as a chance to rebuild my home from the ground up, when I wanted to remodel anyway.

    And if I had stayed in the security of advertising? Sure, things would be financially stable, but instead I chose to finally pursue my passion for teaching.

    So yes, every single experience in life is an opportunity for growth, whether it lasts forever or not.

    I had a baseball coach in high school who would always say, “We learn more from the games we lose than the ones we win.” I carry that with me to this day. Maybe it’s because we analyze more when we lose, or maybe it’s because it forces us to change our game plan for next time. But trust that next time, you’re starting from experience, not from zero.

    So trust that when everything seems to be falling apart, new things are coming together. But you have to be open to embrace them. Simply float the river. The point of life is not in the destination, it is in the journey. But we are led to believe that life is serious and that it must be leading us to some grand destination.

    I’ve found that life is more like a dance. No dancer points to a spot on the dance floor and says, “That’s where I must end up at.” The whole point of the dance is the dance.

    So I’ll leave you with three things that I’ve found help me on this journey I find myself on:

    1. Name three good things about your day.

    At the end of each day, speak aloud three good things that happened. They don’t have to be grand, just the little wins we often overlook. I helped my friends move, I beat my time in the mile, etc. These help remind me that in the middle of the storm, there are still accomplishments in the day and things to be thankful for. That, in turn, can change your mood and set the tone for tomorrow.

    2. Exercise and eat healthy.

    How you feel is tied closely to the food you consume. Make it a point to eat healthier and to exercise. This won’t only improve your mood, but also your self-confidence and overall health.

    I’ve found that whenever life throws challenges at me, one constant that I can count on is the gym. When I’m working out, nothing outside of those four walls matters. It’s my escape, if you will.

    3. Keep a journal.

    Although life is about the journey, having a sense of direction can anchor us when we’re feeling lost.

    Write down what you want (out of your next relationship, out of life, etc.). Jot down your thoughts, fears, and feelings as you sit with uncertainty and find a way forward. Journaling is cathartic and can help ease much of the pain. It can also help you feel a sense of progress. One of my favorite things to do is to look back on old entries, which can help me see how far I’ve come.

    So no, this isn’t the end for you. You will survive and you will look back one day and be so proud of yourself for doing what you thought to be impossible. How do I know? Because if you’re reading this, you still believe in yourself. You still have hope that there are exciting new chapters left to be written, even if you don’t yet know what to do, or how.

    As I stated at the beginning, I don’t have it all figured out just yet, but that’s okay. I don’t know where this journey will lead me, but I know it will be exciting and filled with adventure. And in the process, I hope that you too, will find whatever is it that fuels that fire in your heart. Don’t give up, don’t give in.

    So yes, ultimately everything seems to be falling apart, but I’m finally starting to see that it’s because something better is coming together. Trust your journey, and even if the branch breaks when you sit on it, your wings will help you soar to new heights.

  • The Art of Slow Living: How to Reclaim Your Peace and Joy

    The Art of Slow Living: How to Reclaim Your Peace and Joy

    “In today’s rush, we all think too much, seek too much, want too much and forget about the joy of just being.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    We’re going to start with a visualization exercise. Set a timer for one minute, close your eyes, and reflect on your happiest childhood memories…

    I was born into a family of wanderers, individuals who held a deeply rooted love of travel, and an even deeper sense of adventure. My happiest childhood memories are the times when we packed up our suitcases and hit the road (or the sky or the sea).

    In the quiet stillness of my mind, I float away to a Hawaiian beach. Suddenly, I am once again a young adolescent lying in the sand with the ones I love as we watch the leaves of a large palm tree sway overhead, moving in front of the sun and casting long, warm shadows on the seemingly endless stretches of beach on either side of us. The crash of the waves reverberates through our ears, and a sense of peaceful stillness permeates our entire beings.

    Here, we have no responsibilities, and our attention is simply focused on being present with one another.

    Maybe for you, the happiest childhood memories that come to mind revolve around a favorite holiday when friends or loved ones laughed together without distractions, or spending time with brothers and sisters talking about everything and nothing, growing closer to one another.

    No matter the memories that come to mind, they undoubtedly had one thing in common—in those moments we (and those around us) were free.

    That’s the secret to intentional, or slow, living; when we practice patience with ourselves and others, and allow the busyness of our lives to fall away, we can feel the emotion that exists in every moment, and truly connect to the people and things around us.

    Childhood is, by its very definition, an opportunity to practice slow living. When we are children we do not have the stress of our jobs, our social status, or providing for others weighing on our shoulders. Not only are our days free from responsibility, they are also free from anxiety and worry.

    As we age, we have a tendency to forget the purpose of intentional living, and instead allow our days to be managed and monitored by the incessant beeping or text and email alerts and the allure of amassing social media likes.

    We allow our souls to be turned away from spiritual clarity and light, believing instead that the more “stuff” we allow to fill our days, the happier we will be.

    But the truth, friends, is that the happiness we so desperately seek on our busiest days is not found in the countless distractions of the world around us, but in the innocence of our hearts—the stillness and presence that has dwelled within us since we were children.

    Of course, I’m not recommending that you quit your job tomorrow, forgo all of your responsibilities, and craft some sort of bubble-like lifestyle for your days.

    I am suggesting that you evaluate where your priorities lie, and if you find your life has become too fast-paced to truly connect with yourself and others, that you take small action steps toward decluttering your spiritual core—the part of you that knows the answers to life’s greatest mysteries do not lie in the rush, but rather, in the moments of connection.

    Living intentionally is an art, and is not something that we can master overnight, but by committing to a practice of cultivation, we can encourage relaxation of our nervous systems, begin to avoid the people and things that take our time and energy without giving us anything in return, and create a life we love—a life that is full of peace and genuine joy. Here’s how to get started:

    Evaluate your life.

    What do you truly want out of your life? If there were no barriers like money or power, what would you want to do and with whom would you want to do it? Consider the answers to these questions to be your sense of inner wisdom and trust the messages you receive.

    Identify the people and activities that you desire to willingly surround yourself with, as well as those to whom you feel obligated, and notice how you feel when you think about these people and tasks, responding to your thoughts without judgment. Then, work on increasing the amount of time you spend doing what you love with those you love.

    Little by little, you will find that you are able to take control of your life and live in a way that fulfills you, allowing you to practice intentional presence in all areas.

    Understand that busyness does not equal importance.

    Answering all the emails in our inboxes while we sit at the dinner table is not going to mean anything to the people who mean the most to us. While many responsibilities are unavoidable, there is something to be said for committing to presence of mind, no matter how much we may struggle with feeling like we’re missing out on something that only our devices can tell us about.

    Generations ago, when professionals did not have electronic tools like cell phones or tablets, they somehow managed to complete all of their tasks and were considered by others as having contributed to society.

    Somewhere along the way, that understanding became skewed, and now, we have lofty expectations for how quickly we can respond to a summons and the number of commitments we can successfully juggle at one time.

    Understand that being busy does not make us successful or important; in fact, often, being too busy serves no purpose other than to detract from our connection with the people that are nearest to us.

    Choose a place in your home where you will stow your cell phone and other electronics upon entering the house. When our phones are out of reach, they will almost automatically leave our minds, and we can focus on being present with the people who are physically with us.

    If you find that spending all your time at home without your phone is too difficult or not reasonable for your lifestyle, establish small blocks of time (five to ten minutes maximum) that you are allowed to check your phone before re-stowing and returning your attention to the present. Over time, you will find that your need to have these phone breaks becomes less and less frequent.

    Find silence.

    Our world is noisy—there is no other way to describe it. Yet, we’ve become so accustomed to the din of our environment that we have seemingly become immune to noticing how this constant chaos negatively impacts us physically and spiritually.

    When was the last time you spent a moment in silence? It’s probably been quite some time, if you can even remember a moment free from noise at all. Our culture perpetuates trepidation around quiet, wanting to fill every pause with some sort of sound effect or reverie, so it’s important for us, as we pursue a slower lifestyle, to create a space in our lives that is free from distractions.

    Find a way to bring calm and quiet into your life whether it comes through a daily practice of meditation, a walk through the silence of nature, or a peaceful moment spent in bed before you close your eyes to rest. Pursuing peace will lead to a regular commitment to quiet and allow you to grow in your understanding of what it means to be truly present.

    —

    I’m not the little girl on the Hawaiian beach anymore. I have real responsibilities and accountabilities just like you do. But, by committing to a practice of slow living, of practicing intention and presence in my days, I am helping her to continue to grow and thrive.

    No matter your age or where you are on your journey, you can reclaim a piece of your innocent joy as well—the childhood version of yourself is still inside you, waiting for you to commit to their well-being.

  • The Secret To A Happy Life Is Hidden In Your Daily Habits

    The Secret To A Happy Life Is Hidden In Your Daily Habits

    “The key to being happy is knowing you have the power to choose what to accept and what to let go.” ~Dodinsky

    It hit me as I cruised along at full speed on a busy motorway on my way to a friend’s house.

    Shaking like a leaf, I pulled myself out of the car and stood by the side of the road. I desperately gulped in the fresh air, a frantic attempt at calming myself down.

    This was the ninth day in a row I’d experienced a wave of panic so intense, it felt like I was about to die. It was utterly unbearable.

    I’d been worrying about all the work I had left to do on my Master’s dissertation and berating myself for taking a day off to spend time with friends when I should have been working. All of a sudden, my throat closed up, my chest tightened, and my hands shook so much that I was convinced I would lose control of the car.

    This was the final straw.

    I’d been waiting for a magic solution, a miraculous savior, a quick fix that would snap me out of my near-constant state of worry. I’d been waiting for the universe to wave its wand and finally grant me a normal life. It wasn’t happening.

    I wasn’t willing to face up to the work I needed to do in order to stop indulging in my bleak hypothetical predictions about the future. And more importantly, I didn’t even know what the work was. But that day, I made the decision to find the key to a happy life and to start putting in some serious elbow grease.

    I just couldn’t live like that any longer.

    That was three years ago.

    What You Practice, You Get Good At

    The problem is, for a very long time, I practiced worrying. About everything.

    I worried about what people thought about me. I worried about what might happen to my health. I worried about whether I would have the career I wanted.

    I also practiced managing this worry, and the myriad of unpleasant emotions that accompanied it, with food, alcohol, and sex. I used substances (and other people’s bodies) to make myself feel good, to take my mind somewhere else, and to give myself a moment to relax.

    But underneath, the worry was still there; these “fixes” just masked it. Instead of paying attention to what was actually going on in my head and realizing that my thoughts were creating a reality that didn’t actually exist, I practiced covering up my desperation, hoping that this fix would be the one that actually worked.

    I was constantly feeding habits that gave me short-term satisfaction or relief, that I knew were ultimately destructive. And I know I’m not the only one.

    Many of us spend our days acting mostly out of habit—the foods we eat for breakfast, the route we take to work, even the thoughts we entertain. These become the actions we practice, over and over again.

    And what we practice, we get good at.

    What Do You Practice?

    Here’s a little something to reflect on: What habits are currently running your life? What thoughts do you think every single day? And are these serving you, or not?

    We might not think of habits as a practice, but that’s exactly what they are. Each and every day, we’re practicing being the type of people we want to be, whether we realize it or not.

    My anxiety, despite being a very real (and often terrifying) experience for me, was a habit. I was practicing being the type of person who was constantly stressed out and worried about everything. Nowadays, however, I practice being the type of person who recognizes these thoughts, knows her limits, takes care of herself, and makes a different choice each time her old pal worry comes out to play.

    Think about it:

    • How many times a day do we complain about things not being the way we want them to be?
    • How many times a day do we disengage from connection with others and allow ourselves to be distracted by technology?
    • How many times a day do we worry about things that haven’t even happened yet?

    The answer is likely: a lot.

    We’re experts at this stuff. After all, the key to mastering any skill is repetition; if we repeat a specific action enough, eventually we’ll gain fluency and competency at it.

    This is why the true secret to happiness lies in our daily habits rather than in the “magic fixes” we often think will make us happy.

    Daily Practices for a Happier Life

    So what if we became conscious of the habits that are running our lives and switched them on their head?

    What if we started practicing things we actually wanted to get better at? And what if, instead of making it some huge, life-changing mission, we simply set the intention to live this way, making small steps toward it wherever we could?

    Remember: What we practice, we get good at.

    With this in mind, here are a few suggestions for habits we could start practicing daily in order to live a happier life:

    • Kindness
    • Compassion
    • Generosity
    • Acceptance
    • Non-judgment
    • Presence
    • Listening
    • Forgiveness
    • Relaxation

    The way these look in our lives will be different for everyone, but the intention behind them is the same—to notice our destructive habits and to make a different choice.

    Personally, I’ve found three super effective ways to start bringing new practices into our lives.

    1. Notice your autopilot.

    We have to recognize our habitual autopilot mode in order to do something about it.

    Becoming aware of the way we live our daily life—the choices we make, the people we surround ourselves with, and the stories we tell ourselves—helps us to remember who we really are and what we really want. It also helps us make more conscious decisions about how we act so that we choose our response rather than react out of habit.

    The best way to do this is to first make a list of all the times you already know you tend to slip into autopilot.

    For example, you might recognize that you frequently spend your lunch break scrolling through Facebook, and then you feel bad about yourself after comparing yourself to other people. Or, you might notice you regularly worry about worst-case scenarios when you’re lying in bed at night.

    Once you’re aware of what you’re doing, you can commit to making a different choice the next time you’re in that situation, practicing a habit that doesn’t serve you.

    I have to be honest here. This takes time.

    In the beginning, it was difficult for me to recognize when my “worry” head was on because it felt so natural to me. But once I started paying more attention to my habitual thoughts and behaviors, I found it much easier to switch the script in those moments and instead practice some deep breathing to relax myself.

    Action step: Take a moment to think about the times you already know your habitual autopilot-self takes over. What could you do to in those moments to break that pattern, re-engage with the world, and make a different choice?

    Remember: What we practice, we get good at.

    2. Focus on your physical sensations.

    Another great way to practice new habits is to focus on how they make us feel in our bodies. I like to think of this in terms of openness (expansion) and tightness (contraction). I usually feel pretty open and soft in my heart space when I practice kindness, for example, and tight and tense in my belly when I practice being rude.

    Our sense of expansion or contraction in our body can act as an “mindful shortcut,” giving us an easy way to determine what might be going on in our heads.

    If we focus on how we physically feel in our bodies and the sensations our habits bring up for us, we can really start to distinguish between the ones that currently serve us and the ones that definitely don’t. Since our physical sensations often directly relate to our emotional experience, it’ll also provide us with a little motivation to continue practicing the things that make us feel expanded.

    The issue most of us run into here is that we mostly walk around feeling completely out of touch with our bodies. In fact, it wasn’t until I really started to dive deep into yoga that I realized my body was constantly giving me important signals—and I was totally ignoring them.

    The best way to begin observing your body is to sit in stillness and just notice your bodily experience, even if you start with just a few moments a day. The more you “check in” with your body, the more you’ll be able to tune in to what it’s trying to tell you.

    When I started paying attention to my body, I noticed how different thoughts affected me in completely different ways. My worry made my body feel tight, tense, and achy, for example, whereas calm thoughts made my body feel soft, relaxed, and open. This helped draw my attention to my worrisome thoughts and choose to focus on my breathing in the present moment instead of on my “faux” reality.

    Action step: Start your day by asking yourself one of these questions:

    • “How do I want to feel today?”
    • “What do I want to practice today?”
    • “How do I want to live today?”

    Then check in with yourself regularly throughout the day (setting up a reminder on your phone helps!) to observe how your body’s feeling. Pay particular attention to your heart, solar plexus, and belly areas. Is there a sense of expansion or contraction? Does this align with how you want to feel? What are you currently practicing? And does this align with what you want to practice?

    Remember: What we practice, we get good at.

    3. Set an intention.

    We can also practice new habits by simply affirming to ourselves that it’s our intention to practice them.

    Intentions are perfect because they’re designed to be a guideline rather than a goal. With goals, it’s far too easy to beat ourselves up if we don’t reach them, but with an intention, we can just start over again.

    If we set an intention to be kind, or compassionate, or generous in the morning, we’re also far more likely to jump at opportunities to practice this as we move through our day. It helps us make decisions that are more aligned with the people we want to be, since our intention will still be fresh in our mind.

    For example, I’ve recently been setting an intention to practice forgiveness. I realized that I’d been holding on to so much resentment, anger, and blame toward myself (and others) about my anxiety. I felt so much rage about my past—the years I’d spent constantly trying to please other people at the expense of my own needs; my first boyfriend’s extremely controlling behavior, which left me feeling utterly weak; and the pressure I’d felt growing up to be “perfect.”

    So every morning I listen to a forgiveness meditation, which includes repeating to myself, “I see and feel the pain you’ve caused me, and it’s my intention to forgive you.” Then, as I’m about to go into my day, I remind myself that it’s my intention to continue to practice forgiveness.

    Have I forgiven everyone (or myself) yet? No. But that’s beside the point.

    The point is that every single day, I’m practicing.

    Action step: Decide on at least one new habit you’d like to start practicing. How can you set this intention for yourself each day? How can you remind yourself of this intention when you go off track?

    Remember: What we practice, we get good at.

  • Why Social Media and My Addictive Personality Don’t Mesh

    Why Social Media and My Addictive Personality Don’t Mesh

    Twitter didn’t give me the flu or bronchitis, but it made me sick. Unhealthy. Ill-feeling. And it could have been any social media platform that did it, I just happened to have chosen Twitter.

    For years I avoided creating any sort of social media account. I complained to companies the old-fashioned way: calling or emailing customer service. I didn’t need to know what people I wasn’t in touch with in real life were doing.

    As someone who was married and not dating, there simply wasn’t the requirement to be on any kind of social media. With two kids, I spent my (little) free time watching TV or texting with a few friends. I would proudly state, “I don’t even have Facebook” when people discussed it.

    Then in January 2018, I decided to open a Twitter account, mostly to rant about things, as I had done a few years prior on a blog. Not big-issue political rants or anything, more “Why isn’t the first car on an advanced green turning?? YOU HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY, MAN” type stuff.

    I had conveniently blocked from memory the reason I had stopped blogging about all my anger-inducing experiences: I had felt like it was poisoning me. To always be posting something negative, it builds over time. As much as I liked expressing my anger, I didn’t like the feeling it created.

    Fast forward to the beginning of 2018 and I have a Twitter account. All fine and dandy for a bit: I build a little network of like-minded parent Twitter accounts, we follow the same accounts, and it’s fun to see people living the same type of kid-related dramz as I was.

    Then I realize that with Twitter, I have access to breaking news way faster than say, my husband (a complete non-social media user). So that’s fun. Then I realize I have easy access to celebrities—wow! Now I can communicate directly with them! And businesses! To celebrate or chastise them! Fun! Then I’m excited when I gain followers. Cool! But some are random accounts who I don’t ever see post anything, or weird corporations. Okay… still fun?

    Then I interact a few times with some celebrities. That goes to my head quickly—now I assume every tweet I send will result in some retweet or like by them. But no, it doesn’t. “Well, that’s crappy,” I think on more than one occasion, when I obsessively check my account to see if they liked what I wrote.

    I see parenting-related tweets by other users who gain hundreds or thousands of likes for some inane comment, and I think “But that’s not even funny or very observant.” I develop a never-ending circle of thought in my head, consumed by potential tweets.

    I start to feel what many people before me have felt: the highs and lows of social media. When it’s good, it’s good—your self-esteem is high, you’re feeling well liked, and well received. And when it’s low, it sucks.

    “Why didn’t anyone agree with what I said?” I would question. “How come my tweets don’t garner that much attention?” It started to become too much. I was turning into someone I had never thought I would be: feeling validated by the number of likes I got.

    Soon, it became obsessive. I was checking when I woke up (my phone having never been beside me at night), considering checking in the middle of the night when I woke up, checking while driving (something I had shamed people for doing previously), being logged in all day while at work. It was all day every day. I had become consumed.

    And it wasn’t lucrative; I had 200-ish followers and maybe 20 I actually interacted with. It had quickly turned from something “neat” into something destructive. Everything I was living I was thinking could be a potential tweet. Which meant in turn, while I was physically there, I wasn’t really present in my actual life.

    Along with parenting woes, I used Twitter to talk about my sobriety. I found it to be an awesome support network for the ups and downs and also to help others.

    Over the past year of sobriety, I, like many others in the same situation, have connected much more with myself, learning who I am more in the past year than ever in my whole life. I recognize when I am feeling sad, toxic, anger, jealous. I feel everything now. And so when I started to feel weird with Twitter, I didn’t ignore it. I looked at what was happening.

    And I realized it: as I now know, I have an addictive personality. I had become addicted and consumed by Twitter. It was now controlling my day. From wake up, to work, to driving, to watching TV, I was one tap away from seeing “what’s happening.” With strangers. And not actually paying attention to what I was living.

    Instead of living what was happening, I was typing it, sharing it, obsessing over who saw it and interacted with me. Instead of alcohol, I was now consumed by Twitter.

    So last week, I promised myself I would stop tweeting, stop checking it, and back away. Unfortunately you can’t hide your account. Either you have it and you just don’t use it, or you deactivate.

    This weekend I looked at it here and there to see if I had any likes or DMs. To get a sense of what I was missing. I had a few likes from some tweets posted last week, oddly enough a number of new followers (even after doing nothing for days, which is so bizarre)—nothing earth shattering. I didn’t scroll through at all, and I didn’t engage with anyone.

    And I realized: Nothing in my life actually changes if I am “connected.” In fact, I realized that being “connected” actually made me feel more isolated than ever. I was relying on something very independent to feel part of something. When in reality, it was very secluded.

    I found it serves as a distraction and delivers information that just makes me angry or depressed. And there’s already enough of that in life. I am quite happy to go back to using reality TV to unwind and let my sister being my sounding board for my road rage.

    I will give it another day or so and I will deactivate it completely. And luckily, goodbyes are not necessary. A nice clean break. I will miss some elements of it, but I know myself enough to know I cannot keep it. Like trying to moderate alcohol, it’s too much of a slippery slope.

  • What Helped Me Move On After Being Cheated On

    What Helped Me Move On After Being Cheated On

    “Sometimes walking away is the only option because you finally respect yourself enough to know that you deserve better.” ~Unknown

    When I was cheated on, I was hit by an ongoing blizzard of conflicting emotions.

    There were the initial tears that I failed to hide from anyone. There was a cold ruthlessness as I told her that I couldn’t be with her after what she did. There was a wave of misery, there was a wave of anger, and all of it was dotted with periodic moments of calm and even gratitude that she was finally out of my life.

    There were also random spikes in my productivity as I sought to get on with my life, followed by horrifying loneliness, feelings of betrayal, doubting my own self-worth, and the inevitable relapse back into misery at the discovery that she had hooked up with the guy she had cheated on me with less than twenty-four hours after I had ended our relationship.

    Grief, I learned, is non-linear. It will go, and it will come back. Sometimes I’ll be perfectly happy doing the food shopping, and get depressed over a memory of us doing it together. There’s no predicting when this will happen.

    It was an ongoing spiral, as we had a number of mutual friends, and on top of that, two of our mutual friends lived right below me, and she would visit them often. So she was sticking to my life like gum in hair. There was no escape.

    It wasn’t the first time that she had cheated on me. On the first occasion, the man in question told me that my girlfriend had justified her actions by saying that I had hit her.

    This allegation swept me off my feet. In fact, I was speechless. I mean, it’s one thing to be cheated on, but to have the person I am in love with say a lie like that, something potentially so damaging, it actually broke my heart more than the act of cheating.

    I broke up with her then, and she burst into tears. Her tears were so genuine, the pain of losing me was so obvious, but at the same time contradicted by what she had done.

    The following day she begged me to take her back, and with tears streaming down her face she told me that she had been manipulated, and that the other man had made up all that stuff about me hitting her just to split us up. And she seemed so genuine. I took her back.

    Things proceeded as they had before, both of us determined to put this into the past and move on together, into a bright future. We got a place together, and poured all of our efforts into making it our dream home.

    At some point she lost her job, but I told her to leave the rent to me, since we were partners and money shouldn’t come between us. And during the months that I was supporting us both financially, she cheated on me again, this time with a guy who she insisted was just a friend.

    In the past I had noticed a lot of flirting between them, but she had always told me that I was being paranoid, and hanging on to what had happened in the past. It was like my memory of the first guy had been weaponized to use against me if I dared mention that she was making me uncomfortable with her flirtatious behaviour toward her new guy.

    When it came to light that there was more between them than she was letting on, I ended things, and instantly fell down this well of despair.

    Several of our friends had given me plenty of emotional validation in the sense that I had treated her perfectly, and that anyone in their right mind would be appreciative. But at the initial time of heartbreak, such words do little to stand against the relationship grieving process.

    Our mutual friends informed me that she was officially dating this guy less than twenty-four hours after I ended the relationship. That was expected but painful. What wasn’t expected was the revelation that there was a third occasion where she cheated, in the months in between the two that I knew about.

    This was with a friend who she had mysteriously fallen out with, and urged me not to speak to. We had mutual friends who knew about this third occurrence, but had kept silent in the hopes that my girlfriend would tell me.

    When this all came out, I did speak to this mysterious third person, and found out the horrifying realization that my girlfriend had also told this person that I had hit her. What a coincidence.

    This statement not only hurt, but it unravelled all of the trust she’d rebuilt with me when she convinced me that the first guy was lying and had manipulated her. Now it not only hurt to have my partner lie about me, but I learned that she was lying to me, too.

    Her mysterious fall out with her friend was caused by her refusal to leave me, her friend feeling led on, and when confronted by why she wouldn’t leave me, giving the explanation that as long as she stayed with me she could live somewhere rent-free.

    Cue emotional tidal wave. I mean, this is a lot to process. It was as if the person I had spent every day with was suddenly a completely different person. I had been lying in bed next to a stranger. Behind every “I love you” had been a hidden smirk. I felt like the punchline to a colossal joke that everyone knew about except me.

    I coped badly at first, ending the relationship but being unable to embrace the sudden void of free time, which would otherwise have been spent on her. And in the free time, my mind wandered back to the good times, unable to match the person I had fallen for with the person who I had just broken up with. I couldn’t quite believe that they were the same person.

    I sought out moments where she could have changed, and wondered what had changed her. Had she been manipulated by the people she cheated on me with? I grasped at a lot of straws in a vain attempt at thinking that maybe this relationship was fixable.

    The apartment we had moved into together was our creation, having decorated and furnished it together. It was our dream home. Now it was just mine alone, but haunted by my memory of her presence. And at the core of all of this was my own self-doubt. Had I done enough? Why was I so easy to just casually hurt? Is she evil? Am I just undeserving of love?

    But all of my time wallowing in our apartment alone did give me time to think, and I came to the conclusion that all I had to do was think differently.

    A lot of my trains of thought had elements of truth, but were completely lacking in logic. Here are the things that I told myself in order to move forward.

    Firstly, what was my ideal scenario?

    I was mourning the relationship, but what did I hope to happen as an alternative to what was actually happening? In my head I said, “I would love to have her back, having decided that this guy she’s with isn’t actually that great.” Or better yet, “I would love it if she’d never met him.”

    But you see, even if she had never met him, she’d still be capable of doing what she did. In fact, her repeat offences were proof enough that this was a very real side of her, and I needed to acknowledge that.

    If she’d never met this guy, she would have met another guy. So really what I’m ultimately saying to myself is “I would love it if she was the person I thought she was, and not who she actually is.”

    This can be simplified and translated to “I’m wishing for a different person. A better, more suitable partner, that isn’t her.” This thought came as a shock because at the time I didn’t want to accept it, but it’s the truth—she isn’t suitable for me.

    So secondly, what did I actually lose?

    On the surface, it’s easy to say that I lost my girlfriend to another man. This isn’t the case. All I lost is time out of my life that I had spent committed to the wrong person. I didn’t lose the relationship because it was a lie. And I was losing more time out of my life by fixating on it. Again, it’s a harsh truth but one I had to accept.

    So thirdly, it was time to address my own thoughts of self-doubt.

    Was there self-esteem to be recovered?

    I told myself repeatedly that I’d failed her, and that I wasn’t enough, while those who had seen our relationship grow and collapse had reassured me that I had done all that I could. How does one get out of this rut of self-doubt?

    A friend pointed out that the questions I was asking myself, such as “Did I do enough?” in spite of its negative tone, revealed a strong commitment to my relationship. When we were together I was doing my best out of fear of not doing enough. My doubts about this now were the exact same caring, positive characteristics that I was proud of when we were together. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

    So my fourth train of thought: Is she evil?

    It’s a perfectly rational conclusion to come to. Logic would say that if the blame isn’t on me then it must be on her. At first it feels great to say that she’s evil. Misery transformed into anger works, for a little while. But it isn’t productive, nor is it healthy. And I had to come to the hard conclusion that no, she wasn’t evil. In fact, when I last met her, she was downright miserable.

    I asked her, “Why aren’t you happy? You got everything you wanted. You got the guy you wanted, you got rid of the guy you didn’t want. You still have your family and your friends. I just get to live alone in the home we decorated together, with all of our memories.”

    Okay, so I was slightly bitter when I said those things, but one look at my former partner revealed that in spite of everything, she wasn’t happy. Nor was she prepared or willing to make amends. She just shook her head sadly and said that she still felt empty. And that’s when I realised that she was very lost too.

    Her cheating on me was not a reflection on me as a person not good enough for her. It was a reflection on her insecurities.

    She was trying to fill a void in her life, and she was making the classic mistake of looking for the answers in other people, but being unsatisfied because the problem was in her. I was just unfortunate to fall into her destructive path, a path that was just as destructive to herself long term as it would be for her short-term partners.

    Maybe she’ll continue this cycle. Maybe her current boyfriend is the one that will snap her out of it. But in that moment I just felt sorry for her.

    I told her goodbye when she confessed that even though I dumped her, she was planning on leaving me for this guy anyway. I may feel sympathy, but I don’t think a sympathetic side should mean that I’ll let her insult me.

    I still know my worth. Many would say that letting her back after the first time was me being a doormat, but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I never lost sight of my own worth.

    I think it’s worth pointing out that even though I’m lessening the pain with these lessons, it’s also important to still let myself feel things. Sometimes I’ll be so sure of myself, and then walk past the place where we first met, or something will remind me of her, often something odd and obscure, and tears will form in my eyes. And that’s okay. It’s not the end of the world. The trick is to let myself feel it without letting it hinder my own productivity.

    An important lesson is that it’s okay to be sad.

    It’s hard to display emotions when people throw out phrases like “Man up” and “Get over it.” Phrases like that invalidate emotions that are perfectly valid. Why should I hide my emotions? Something bad happened to me, I sometimes feel sad as a result, and that is 100% okay.

    A friend told me recently, don’t bury it alive. Deconstruct your relationship, through communication and letting your emotions breathe. Give the relationship a metaphorical autopsy. Do not bury it alive, or it will come back to bite.

    The things I tell myself have aided the healing process. They won’t erase the sadness completely, but nor should they. Our emotions are good for us.

    On a final note, one of my areas of concern is my trust issues. I have yet to encounter them because I haven’t yet attempted to get close to someone else, but I know that they’re waiting to pounce on me.

    After what I endured, it would be crazy to assume otherwise. But does this mean I’ll be avoiding relationships altogether? No, it doesn’t. I’m re-writing my train of thought, and as far as I’m concerned, my trust issues are just another part of the screening process. I know what to look out for. I know my worth. I will not be hurt like this again.

  • The Power of Perspective: A Simple Way to Ease Anxiety

    The Power of Perspective: A Simple Way to Ease Anxiety

    “The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it. Be aware of the thoughts you are thinking.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    One of the first ideas I learned in law school was “the reasonable third person,” a legal fiction created to help figure out if someone has acted unreasonably. There’s no clear-cut definition, so I spent a lot of energy arguing what a reasonable person would do. This hypothetical person haunted my law school exams, and later, my career.

    But I realized the reasonable third person could teach me something beyond the courtroom. I could apply that perspective to ease anxiety in my own life.

    At my law firm, I was so busy that I could barely make meetings in time. It would always be a mad scramble to get everything ready. The senior lawyer would always be annoyed and stressed, and the partner would barely acknowledge my presence.

    I’d have too much coffee and be nervous. I’d try to be casual, but I’d either fidget too much or sit too still, trying not to attract attention. I was always so nervous I’d get asked a question and not know what to say.

    Mostly, I just sat silently in meetings. Occasionally I’d make a comment, but I’m sure no one noticed because I was so unhelpful. I always felt like an idiot.

    Then I realized how personal and subjective my interpretation was. By changing my perspective, I could compose a new, more useful narrative of events. My interpretation—my thinking—could relieve my distress.

    I felt like I was always running late, but I made it to meetings, didn’t I? So “I could barely make meetings in time” became “he arrived in time for the meeting to start.”

    “I’d always have too much coffee and be nervous” became “Joseph drank coffee.” “I’m sure no one noticed because I was so unhelpful” became “he was pretty quiet during the meeting.”

    This narrative removed the self-centered thinking. It focused on what actually happened, not what I felt about what happened.

    Afterward, I was less overwhelmed by my thoughts and feelings. I had a broader perspective, like that of a third party. My feelings weren’t bound so tightly to events.

    Third Person Thinking

    I began to call this third person thinking. It’s the idea of observing your experience from a distance instead of identifying with how you felt about it. I could rise above my own viewpoint of an event.

    It’s like the judge deciding whether someone acted like a reasonable person under the circumstances. It’s irrelevant what they subjectively experienced. Focusing on the cold hard facts might overlook the emotional impact of events, but it also allows you to change that emotional impact.

    Okay, so this sounds nice in the abstract, but does it actually work? Researchers have examined this skill (called “self-distancing” in the study) in situations that provoke anxiety or anger in real life, like public speaking. The results are encouraging: The studies presented clear improvements from third person thinking.

    Benefits

    Third person thinking improves your reaction to a stressful event. You’ll feel less pain, anxiety, and “maladaptive post-event processing,” in the unwieldy language of the studies. Post-event processing—your perspective on what happened—improves, becoming more useful.

    You’ll also better manage future situations, as you can “appraise future stressors in more challenging and less threatening terms.” Translation: You’ll feel less worried about stuff that usually worries you.

    Third person thinking also improves performance during the event itself. Study participants with social anxiety gave better public speaking performances when they engaged in self-distancing. Athletes also perform better when they engage when they manage their self-talk in the same way.

    The theory looks good. But are we just fooling ourselves? After all, the objective situation hasn’t changed.

    Maybe it seems that way, like trying to convince yourself you’re happy when you feel like crying. But what you think affects how you act and feel. It’s a cycle. Each stage—thoughts, feelings, actions—affects the others.

    Thinking Like a Third Person

    So, how do you actually do it?

    First, consciously observe how you’re talking to yourself. What are you telling yourself—are you saying, “I really screwed that up,” or “I’m sure I sounded like an idiot just then”? Just slowing down like this breaks the automatic chain of reaction, preventing a cascade of emotional reflexes.

    Second, write it down. This forces you to slow down even further. It makes the distancing more real, and it’s important to create that muscle memory of practice, just like meditation.

    Third, replace personal pronouns like “I” and “me” with third person pronouns in the story you’re telling yourself. Use your name. “I had to give a speech” becomes “Joseph gave a speech” and “she spoke for ten minutes.”

    Finally, focus on the events themselves, not the narrative you tell yourself about them. You might be biased to focus on your inner monologue. But try to keep your assessment objective: not “I did a terrible job and I’m about to get fired” but “Her boss told her to redo one section of the assignment.”

    Tips

    First, make sure you’re being friendly to yourself. Third person thinking isn’t going to do much good if you’re still judging yourself but camouflaging that judgment by changing a few words. Instead, talk to yourself as if you’re talking to a friend who went through the same situation.

    At the same time, stay objective. A true friend is supportive but honest; you know your friend will tell you the truth. Being kind, but objective, is the most supportive thing you can do.

    Second, third person thinking isn’t about avoidance. Don’t use it to withdraw from how you feel or what you think. You’re still engaging with the event, only from a healthier place.

    Finally, just do it. For me, third party thinking felt (very) silly at first. It was also difficult because I was so used to being wrapped up in the events around me.

    But just try it out. There’s really nothing to lose, and it just might help you feel calmer and less overpowered by what occurs in your life. It certainly did for me.

  • How Listening to Depression Can Help Us Overcome It

    How Listening to Depression Can Help Us Overcome It

    “These pains you feel are messengers. Listen to them.” ~Rumi

    My first diagnosis of depression came at the age of fifteen. Depression runs in my family; it wasn’t a case of overmedicating. It was genuine, and the black dog has followed me all my life.

    I’ve been on eight different antidepressants and a handful of anti-anxiety drugs. I’ve been in and out of therapist offices and hospitals for most of my life, and I expect that I’ll continue to do so.

    My mindset (and that of my family and doctors) was that depression is an adversary to be defeated. If only we found the right medication or the right therapy, we could solve the problem. But that mindset ignores a positive effect of such a negative condition: depression’s ability to induce change.

    Depression lies to you, but it also tells you the truth. And that truth leads to change.

    Silencing

    As I began my career as a lawyer in New York City, my depression worsened. Law is a perfect profession for depression to get worse. I was taught to look for mistakes, to be cynical. A pessimistic mindset is an advantage for a lawyer.

    Lawyers have high rates of depression, anxiety, and substance abuse. I don’t know whether depressed people become lawyers or becoming a lawyer makes people depressed. It’s probably a combination, though ultimately it’s irrelevant.

    My depression found expression physically and emotionally. I had chronic tension headaches; when I woke up feeling like head was squeezed into a vice, I knew the pain would last all day. My back and neck were steel cables of tension.

    I gained weight from a combination of lack of exercise and poor diet. On the weekends, I would order huge amounts of food, seeking solace and finding only regret.

    Emotionally, I was ashamed. Ashamed for being depressed and ashamed for hating my job. It was the prize so many of my law school classmates had competed for. Why didn’t I want it?

    More than the shame was an overarching sense of sadness, like a gray filter applied across the screen of my life. It felt like other people were seeing in color, but for some reason I was seeing in black and white.

    I remember discussing a medical leave with my therapist (she was supportive, and I owe her much). But I was crushed as I realized that a leave was only that—I’d have to return to the office.

    Late one night, unable to sleep, I found myself scrutinizing my apartment’s lease agreement, looking for a way out. My apartment was bathed in darkness. In the pale glow of my laptop’s screen, I broke down, shoulders heaving with sobs.

    I had been trying to kill the messenger. I wanted to silence my depression, as if I could put my hands over my ears and make the noise stop. But instead, I needed to listen to what my depression was telling me.

    Listening

    In those times, depression felt intractable. It was a heavy stone that I wasn’t strong enough to move. But I think, more subtly, depression can signal change. Pain is a messenger.

    Just like physical pain, emotional pain is a signal. Your body is telling you to change what you’re doing. And those changes can’t take place if you don’t stop and listen.

    And how to listen? Sit in stillness, observing what thoughts and emotions arise in the silence. No control, only observation.

    I learned to focus on my breath, observing its rising and falling, without focusing on a specific object or mantra. I learned this meditation technique at a vipassana retreat near Kathmandu, Nepal, and it still serves me well.

    Meditation clarifies the difference between genuine pain and temporary discomfort. Genuine pain is a messenger of change. Temporary discomfort is a passing phenomenon we all experience at one time or another.

    It’s like exercise at the gym: it can be unpleasant and uncomfortable, even though you know it’s good for you. In contrast, some pain is like breaking an ankle. You have to take time to heal.

    In this sense, meditation is a guide to distinguishing between depression’s truth and lies. Depression tries to trick you: it lies to you (in the form of cognitive distortions like catastrophizing) while sometimes telling you the truth (the genuine pain that you’re in). Meditation separates the truth from the lies.

    Recognizing

    I relied on meditation to help me recognize the pain I was in. Not only had I run away from my depression, I had chastised myself for even feeling it (“you shouldn’t feel this bad”) then felt guilty for being depressed. Meditation cleared this fog of avoidance and guilt.

    It also taught me to stop trying to figure out my depression. Attempting to intellectualize how I felt was a fool’s errand. I had to recognize my depression in a visceral, bodily way.

    When a stove is hot, you pull your hand away so you don’t get burned. It doesn’t matter if the stove is gas or electric, or who turned it on. None of that information will prevent you from getting burned. It’s happening; the exact causes don’t need to be figured out to act accordingly.

    And this is exactly what meditation taught me: to focus on the sensations (breath, bodily discomfort, thoughts) instead of attempting to rationalize those sensations. That’s why vipassana retreats require you to surrender your books and journals. Experience the phenomena, don’t intellectualize them.

    Acting

    In the end, my thoughts were just excuses. When my lease was up, I told myself, I’ll quit in six months after I get my bonus. When I got my bonus, I told myself, I’ll quit in six months when my lease is up.

    Once I stopped attempting to reason with myself, it became clear that I had to quit. My depression had lied to me before, but it wasn’t lying this time.

    I’m not recommending recklessly quitting a job without a plan. I had to sublet my apartment and figure out my finances before I left. But my depression had led me, finally, to make a decision.

    Then I had to take the leap. As I told my boss I was quitting, I felt a strange combination of anxiety and exhilaration. I shook.

    I left New York City. I remember sitting at the airport and deleting my work’s email app from my phone. It sounds like a millennial’s cliche version of catharsis, but deleting that app felt immensely freeing.

    I’m still in the process of letting myself be sad sometimes, and I doubt that process will ever truly end. I’m still on medication. But the gray filter over my life has lifted.

  • 9 Mindful Social Media Practices That Will Make You a Happier Person

    9 Mindful Social Media Practices That Will Make You a Happier Person

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    “The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.” ~Steve Furtick

    Social media is not a full (or even sometimes real) portrayal of someone’s life. If you forget this, you fall into the trap of comparing your life to what someone else chooses to share.

    This is dangerous.

    Comparing can lead to feelings of inadequacy, envy, and even hatred toward others. These kinds of feelings, if left un-dealt with, can lead to stress, anxiety, and depression. Or, if you are a person who already struggles with anxiety or depression, having these kinds of negative thoughts all the time could make it even worse.

    I used to struggle with low self-esteem and negative thoughts. I didn’t deal with this and ended up having severe anxiety and depression. My life was turned upside down. I had panic attacks daily and felt overwhelmed almost every single day.

    I let it get unbearably bad before I did anything about it. When I did decide to make a change, I did a number of different things in order to take control back of my life. One of those things included committing to a consistent mindfulness and meditation practice.

    My health and life literally depended on me learning how to be more positive and mindful, and social media wasn’t helping.

    As I started to become more and more aware, I realized that there was a lot of negativity consuming me from being online all the time. All those images of perfect bodies, perfect friendships, and perfect relationships were leading me to assume that my life wasn’t perfect.

    I was always thinking in terms of lack, what I didn’t have, and what everyone else seemed to have. 

    Thinking like this all the time made me sick, in the literal sense.

    My life and feelings dramatically improved when I began to apply the teachings of mindfulness to every aspect of my life, including the way I operate on social media.

    The things I am about to share with you will help you to integrate mindfulness more deeply into your daily life. They will turn your daily social media experience from a negative to a more positive one.

    The first thing you need to know is that when the mind is left unattended, it doesn’t do a great job of taking care of itself. If you are not consciously making an effort to choose positive thoughts about others and yourself, you may, by default, end up thinking negatively.

    So, if you are scrolling through Facebook or Instagram and you do not have awareness of your thoughts, it’s likely that your mind will come to negative conclusions and assumptions about others, and also yourself, such as:

    “She is so much prettier than me.”

    “Wow, she has a good body. I need to look like her.”

    “He has everything going for him. My life is so boring.”

    “Why would he post that?”

    “What an attention seeker.”

    Sound familiar?

    The second thing you need to know is that what you think and say affects how you feel. Positive thoughts lead to positive feelings and negative thoughts lead to negative feelings.

    Now that you know these things, we’re ready to dive in. Here are my top nine ways you can be mindful on social media and consequently, become a happier person.

    Before You Begin

    1. Set an intention.

    Before you get on social media, stop, take a breath, and remind yourself that your goal is to have a positive experience.

    2. Remind yourself to stay present.

    The only way to truly be happy is to be present, and the more you can apply this to your life, the less negativity you will feel. Notice your hands touching the screen, feel your body sitting on the couch or chair, and focus on your breathing as often as possible to avoid getting lost in your thoughts.

    3. Take the time to clean up your feed.

    Unfollow people that regularly complain or post negative content, and consciously choose to follow more positive people and pages. This will make a world of difference if you end up scrolling through unconsciously, because you will unconsciously be taking in uplifting information.

    I used to wish that I looked like anyone but myself. I used to look at other girls with deep envy, wishing I had their perfect skin and bodies. Because my mind could not control itself, I choose to unfollow all fitness inspiration people in my feed and filled it with positive words and inspirational content instead. You get to choose who you follow. Make sure you choose well.

    When Posting

    4. Let go of your attachment to the outcome; don’t expect a certain number of likes.

    Unconsciously, you might think that likes = validation and that the more likes you get the more liked you are as a person, or that if you don’t get likes that you’re not liked as a person.

    The amount of likes you get has nothing to do with who you are, how attractive you are, or how many friends you have. Remember, some people actually pay for likes! They mean nothing.

    Notice if you have this belief about likes. Do you feel differently about a situation when you get fewer likes? Do you compare the amount you get to the amount someone else gets?

    These are all things we need to start to become aware of. You will feel happier when you have confidence and believe in what you’re posting, and when you don’t feel the need for it to be liked. Just simply reminding yourself that you don’t need this image or post to be liked, before posting, can be really powerful.

    5. Post positive content or things that are helpful. Avoid complaining.

    This is in relation to posting and also commenting. Ask yourself, Is what I’m posting positive? Is it helpful? Try not to complain or engage in arguments or negative conversations. This will drain your energy.

    Make it a habit to compliment one or two people or express your gratitude to one or two people each time you go online. Without sounding so cliché, I would like to strongly recommend that you take the time to spread love and good vibes when you are online, not just because it is good for others but because it’s good for your health!

    I’m not suggesting that we should pretend that bad things don’t happen, or that we should hide or suppress our feelings. We should, however, ensure that we do our best to see things in a positive light to avoid spiraling further down a path of negativity.

    6. Challenge your initial reaction to criticism.

    If you receive a negative comment, take some time to reflect upon whether or not there’s truth in it. It’s not easy, but try to detach from your ego and be honest with yourself.

    If it’s true, express your gratitude to that person for bringing it to your attention. If it’s not true, forgive and delete or forgive and don’t engage. I heard this tip from Gabby Bernstein, and it has completely changed my experience on social media. It just makes life so much easier!

    When Scrolling

    7. Practice non-judgment.

    We all know we need to do this, but do we actually do it? It can be helpful to remind yourself of the consequences of judging. When you think negatively about others, this makes you feel bad, not the other person.

    Remember that negative thoughts lead to negative feelings. If you want to feel good, you have to start thinking good thoughts about others on a regular basis. If you catch yourself judging someone else, make an effort to find three good or positive things about that person.

    8. Realize that envy is a call for inspiration.

    Instead of seeing others with envy, look at them as a person to be inspired by. If someone has achieved what you want to achieve, then that means it’s possible for you to achieve that in your life too!

    9. Be curious about the stories your mind makes up.

    You can do this as an experiment: Scroll through your feed for five to ten minutes, with your full attention, and notice all the stories your mind makes up.

    When something comes up, ask yourself if it’s helpful for you to believe that story. Is it helpful for you to think you’re not good enough? Is it helpful for you to judge that other person’s choices or life?

    The mind thinks things that we wouldn’t want others to know. We have to acknowledge that this content is there and be non-attached to it at the same time.

    It’s important to be curious about the mind instead of judging it or getting frustrated by it. This is one of the most important things to know if you want to be a more mindful person.

    Your frustration on top of your judgment only makes things worse. It’s only by learning to accept yourself and others that you can bring a sense of peace and happiness to your life.

    By integrating mindfulness into your social media experience, you can decrease anxiety and stress, eliminate negativity, and live a happier and more fulfilling life.

  • You Are Not for Everyone, and That’s Okay

    You Are Not for Everyone, and That’s Okay

    Quirky Woman

    “One of the most freeing things we learn in life is that we don’t have to like everyone, everyone doesn’t have to like us, and it’s perfectly okay.” –Unknown

    I grew up a people pleaser. It was drilled into me from childhood that it was very important to be aware of what other people thought of me and my actions at all times. Growing up in the south, keeping up with appearances is something that becomes a part of your identity.

    While I enjoy the part of Southern upbringing that taught me to always be polite, the part that teaches you to put others’ opinion before your own is something that I came to resent.

    Before I made any decision, I was to carefully weigh out how it would affect others and their thoughts of me.

    As a kid, it worked out pretty well. (The whole reason I stayed out of trouble mostly, eh?) As an adult…not so much. The constant need to have everyone like me came back to kick me in the butt, again and again.

    It started out through middle and high school when I was figuring out my interests and passions. In my heart, I felt one way. In person, I obviously leaned toward whatever I thought was “cool.”

    I remember still having the childish awe and passions at that time, but I tried to grow up far too quickly to fit in.

    Before long it got to the point where every decision in my life involved me heavily weighing what other people would think. Obviously as a blogger, this was amplified. You can’t build an online presence without being well liked and doing what’s “popular” on the Internet, right?

    I built myself completely around others’ expectations, from the way I looked, to my friends, to my relationships, passions, personality, and more.

    When people would ask me about myself, I had carefully figured out answers, but they weren’t the same for everyone.

    I became an expert at analyzing people and situations so that I could figure out the person I needed to be for those certain people in order for them to like me. I had no one true self, but instead, many different versions of me made to please everyone and anyone.

    In relationships, it hurt me the most, possibly. I never revealed my true self to anyone—friends or significant others—as I didn’t want to drive them away. If we got into arguments, I would either apologize and take their side or simply pull myself away from them further as I convinced myself that we were not meant to be.

    The journey to my own self-discovery and wanting to please myself most of all came in something unexpected in the last few months—when a friend pulled away from me after I had upset her.

    You see, in the past I had pulled away from everyone else first if they got too close to me, never the other way around.

    It struck me in the healing time that I was not upset because of how close we had become or because I valued them so deeply as a person.

    It turned out, what upset me the most was knowing that there was someone out there who did not like me and was harboring bad feelings toward me. The thought of that tore me apart.

    It wasn’t until I was talking to another friend, and she pointed out that there was most likely a great deal of people that didn’t like me, that I had a revelation.

    There will always be people who don’t like me, possibly people who outright dislike me. By trying to cater my life and decisions to everyone else besides the only person whose feelings mattered (me), I drove myself into an unhappy place in an impossible attempt to make everyone happy. I’d never be able to make everyone happy, and it turns out that that’s fine.

    I spent so much time trying to get everyone to like me that I never figured out that’s not actually what’s best for me. Surprisingly, I figured out that in my life, as well as my business, it’s a good thing to drive people away! That may sound weird, but let me explain:

    It started with this amazing quote from the book Light is the New Black by Rebecca Campbell, which goes like this:

    “You are not for everyone, and that’s okay. The world is full of people who, no matter what you do, will point blank not like you. But it is also filled with people who will love you fiercely. You are not for everyone, and that’s okay.

    “Talk to the people who can hear you. Don’t waste your precious time and gifts trying to convince them of your value, they won’t ever want what you’re selling. Don’t convince them to walk alongside you. You’ll be wasting both your time and theirs and will inflict unnecessary wounds, which will take precious time to heal.

    “You are not for them and they are not for you; politely wave them on, and continue along your way. Sharing your path with someone is a sacred gift; don’t cheapen your gift by facing yours in the wrong direction. Keep facing your true north.”

    As you “drive people away,” you only get closer to your ideal people. Those who love you, who want to be close to you, who truly value you, are one step closer.

    Each person who criticizes your ideas and business draws you closer to your ideal clients. Each friend that walks away draws you closer to the people who share your beliefs and passions.

    Being disliked by some is simply a byproduct of being authentic to who you truly are.

    The more you embody your true personality, the more incompatible people will pull away from you.

    That’s okay, because at the same time, the more you adopt your true self, the more like-minded people you’ll draw toward you.

    You are not for everyone, and that’s not just okay, that’s amazing.

    Photo credit: gratisography.com

  • Moving Beyond Passive-Aggression: Stop Repressing Your Feelings

    Moving Beyond Passive-Aggression: Stop Repressing Your Feelings

    Sad Girl

    “Don’t let the fear of what people might think stop you from speaking your mind. Speak up, you deserve to be heard.” ~Unknown

    I used to suffer from immense communication problems that manifested as passive-aggression. I had no idea how to get what I needed, and I often failed to express my desires.

    My maladaptive response was to remain positive at all times, while burying my feelings and casting them into the back of my mind. It wasn’t the greatest time in my life, but it served as a valuable lesson more than a decade later, when I cleared away the cobwebs of anger and reclaimed my true self.

    I frequently notice passive-aggression in people who are passionate about being positive. Have you ever met someone who seems to radiate with positivity and yet, upon closer inspection, you find out that they’re actually a walking ball of resentment?

    We’re all only human. A person who tries at all costs to maintain a facade of success and happiness is eventually going to have a bad day, and their shield will crack. Once they’re emotionally spent, the feelings that they’ve kept inside for so long will come to the surface.

    Ignoring feelings is never the solution. Accept them, investigate them, and then act.

    I’ve learned that passive-aggression is a form of subtle resistance—we feel that we can’t resist openly, so we use sarcasm, or we flake on people, or we put that little smiley face at the end of our snapchat message to disguise our anger. Other examples include procrastination and intentional inefficiency.

    At some point in your life you’ve probably been on the receiving end of sugarcoated, venomous attacks without even realizing it, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, you’ve probably tried to infect someone with your unconscious passive aggression.

    It’s not necessary. And it’s not healthy.

    Passive-aggressive behavior often has roots in childhood; it has to do with how much attention our parents gave to our desires.

    If your caretakers constantly rejected reasonable wants and needs, you likely felt like an inconvenience to them and learned to stop expressing your desires openly, so as to not create more tension in those relationships.

    Yet you still had wishes. If protesting became impossible, the only other way to resist was through lies and deceit—for example, by doing the complete opposite of what your parents requested, or doing it so badly that you may as well not have done it.

    When you grew up, you likely still maintained the belief that you could not simply outright express your wants and needs to your spouse, colleagues, boss, or anyone else in your life; that’s how it was for me.

    This inability to ask for what we really want is a heavy burden to bear.

    The coping strategy then becomes one of securing outside validation. If we can’t be assertive, then we have to beat around the bush to achieve the same result, and that’s why so many of us suffer from what I like to call people-pleasitis.

    The only way to get out of the mire of people-pleasitis is through acceptance and courage.

    You have permission to feel your feelings. Regardless of what you’re feeling, you’ll discover that nothing bad comes out of catching your emotions as they come. Once you train yourself to observe your emotions, you will see that they are simply feedback.

    You don’t have to inhibit them or judge them or block them. You don’t have to turn on the T.V. so you can distract yourself from what you’re feeling. Acceptance and courage are the keys.

    Accept your emotions. Love them. Embrace them.

    Courage is required to express your true self to other people. This is a choice you can make right now.

    Choose direct communication rather than indirect people-pleasing behavior. Choose to express your needs, wants, and feelings. You may lose some friends by doing this, because people have gotten used to the people-pleasing you. It’s worth it.

    I’ve changed so much simply by having the courage to communicate my needs and wants to the world. It’s scary—it really is—but what lies on the other side is more valuable than gold. You find yourself—and you find people who value and respect your thoughts, feelings, and wishes.

    For many people, this is a lifelong process. But learning to express yourself assertively is one of the greatest gifts you can give to yourself and the world.

    Have you ever noticed how naturally authentic folks seem to attract so many people?

    They’re so comfortable with themselves that they also make you feel comfortable. And you know this because you will feel inexplicably good around them. They are not hiding anything from you, and they don’t produce any queasy feelings in your gut (the same feelings you get with passive-aggressive people).

    Behind passive-aggression lies a valley filled to the brim with anger and hostility. When this valley can no longer support all the pent-up negativity, it will come out in a furious outburst that will leave your friends and family dazed and confused. You see this all the time with people who suppress their feelings.

    Only by freeing yourself from these toxic emotions can you fully reach your potential as a human being.

    I was but a shadow of my true self when I was passive-aggressive, because I wasn’t being authentic with people.

    I unconsciously created distance between myself and others. By far the biggest area of improvement in my life has been relationships. I believe that you can’t reach your greatest potential without the support of people who truly, deeply know you, and I now have people like this in my life.

    If you’re engaging in passive-aggressive behavior, it’s time to have the courage to confront yourself, because what lies on the other side is infinite possibility.

    Sad girl illustration via Shutterstock