Tiny Buddha

Author: Heather Moulder

  • When You Want to Get Back to Normal but Life Will Never Be the Same

    When You Want to Get Back to Normal but Life Will Never Be the Same

    “Don’t waste your time looking back on what you’ve lost. Move on, for life is not meant to be traveled backwards.” ~Unknown

    When I was thirty-eight, I was diagnosed with an aggressive breast cancer. During my treatment, one thought persisted: “I can’t wait until this is over and life goes back to normal.”

    I clung to the belief that things would go back to how they once were, and all that needed to happen was for treatment to end. It gave me something to focus on that felt real during a time of disruption and uncertainty.

    Unfortunately, when treatment ended normal didn’t come.

    My hair grew back thinner and was now curly, when it had previously been straight. I had reconstructed breasts that felt strange. And the mental and physical fatigue from treatment didn’t go away; I needed daily naps just to get through the day.

    Words would often get stuck on the tip of my tongue, unable to come out. And I sometimes had trouble fully recalling recent events.

    I felt fragile, as if I were something less than my pre-cancer self.

    Worst of all was the near-constant worry that my cancer would come back and that I’d never regain my stamina. I was a corporate finance attorney who needed to get back to work full-time yet couldn’t.

    My life didn’t just feel different, it had been turned upside down.

    There was a voice in the back of my head that kept telling me that cancer had somehow changed me and that I needed to figure out how. But that sounded like more work than I had the mental energy for. And I was afraid that figuring it out would disrupt my life even further.

    So, I convinced myself that I just needed more time. And when asked how I was, I told people that things were starting to get back to normal.

    Although time did help heal my body and my memory, I still felt off. It was as if I was a bystander watching a movie of my life play out in front of me. The star of the movie looked and sounded like me but didn’t feel like me.

    This continued for about a year. Until the day I heard my boys laughing hysterically and wondered… when was the last time I laughed? I couldn’t remember.

    In that moment, I decided that it was time to figure out how cancer had changed me and what that meant for my future.

    Once I admitted this to myself, I discovered that I was angry about all the things I’d lost because of my cancer. That listed included things both big and small. Lost income and clients. A vacation to Disney World with my boys. My pre-cancer hair and nails.

    I knew that I needed to grieve these losses but was worried that I would get stuck in grief. Because daily gratitude had helped keep me positive through cancer treatment, and because I had gotten lax in my practice, I recommitted to it. Every night I was grateful for at least three things that I had experienced that day.

    And then I realized that there were things to be grateful for because of my cancer. Cancer forced me to slow down. I was spending more time with my boys. And I was learning to be more resilient.

    So, I started adding these to my gratitude practice as well.

    One of the things I was especially grateful for was the help my family received. Even from people I barely knew. They brought food, took my boys to school, and/or scheduled play dates to distract my boys (and give my poor husband a break).

    Reflecting on these acts made me realize that my core value of serving others had changed. I still wanted to serve people, but in a more personal way so that they could live happier, more fulfilling lives, which isn’t exactly fulfilled through corporate finance work.

    That’s why I had felt so off. My values had changed, but I hadn’t been listening.

    I didn’t know exactly what that meant for my future. But it didn’t matter because I finally had clarity around what was different and how to start moving forward to create my new normal. My redefined value was my compass for doing that (and eventually led me away from practicing law and toward starting a new business).

    Although this story is specific to my life, my experience isn’t unique. A natural part of living includes life-altering experiences and events. Things that bring uncertainty and disruption (and remind you of how fragile life really is).

    A cancer diagnosis or other illness. Death of a loved one. Even a divorce.

    It’s human to want things to return to normal. But instead of getting stuck in that trap:

    1. Identify and then grieve your losses.

    Disruption brings loss (often many things). It’s normal to feel anger, sadness, and other emotions as a result. To move on, you need to grieve your losses and process your emotions.

    Get help if you need it. Human beings were made to connect with and help one another, so there’s no shame in doing what we’re made to do. Plus, it will help speed up the healing process.

    2. Practice gratitude while also focusing on the positives that have come from your situation so that you don’t get stuck in grief.

    There are many things to be grateful for in daily life, regardless of what’s going on. I recommend focusing especially on the little things that you might once have taken for granted —like the smell of hot coffee that helped jolt you out of bed after a late night, the feel of hot water on sore muscles during your morning shower, or the windchimes outside your bedroom window that lulled you to sleep.

    And no matter how difficult life gets, there is always something that you can learn or take from it. Identify what you have learned, how you have grown, and/or the good that has come from your experience.

    3. Reconnect with your personal values to determine how they might have changed.

    Life-altering experiences have a way of altering your viewpoint on life. And that can result in changes to your core personal values. Your values are your inner compass in life, so it’s important to take the time to determine how they might have changed.

    For example, you may have previously valued accomplishment above all else, but now peace is a top value that’s changed how you define success—which means it’s okay if you’re doing less.

    When life gets disrupted, you can’t go back. But you can take back control and create your new normal.

  • What to Do If You Want More Purpose, Passion, and Meaning

    What to Do If You Want More Purpose, Passion, and Meaning

    “I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.” ~Joseph Campbell

    Do you ever feel like there’s got to be more to life? More purpose, passion, meaning—whatever your word of choice is?

    It’s happened to me twice. The first time was during the early years of my legal career, and the second time was just a few years ago (after battling an aggressive breast cancer).

    Each time I craved more meaning, yet these two experiences couldn’t have been more different.

    When it happened to me as a young lawyer, I didn’t know what to do.

    I’d wanted to be a lawyer since I was ten years old, and there was purpose behind the choices I’d made up to that point. Decisions that had gotten me where I was, such as:

    1. Majoring in economics (with a business minor) in college because I wanted to be a business lawyer, and
    2. Choosing corporate finance law because my ability to quickly see patterns and solutions was beneficial to structuring deals.

    In the early days of my career, I had a deep sense of fulfillment. But over a period of four years, that gradually changed.

    I didn’t realize how bad it was until the morning I stepped off the office elevator and suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was having a panic attack.

    I walked to my office, shut the door, and cried. That’s when I admitted to myself that I felt trapped in a purpose-less life that I’d worked hard to create.

    And that brought questions such as: How could I have once felt passionate about this life? Had I been wrong? If not, what had changed?

    After allowing my self-doubt to paralyze me from doing anything for a few months, I finally decided to do something about it.

    I wrote down a laundry list of things that I didn’t like about my life, which included:

    • Regularly working eighty-plus hours per week (for over a year)
    • Averaging only five hours of sleep per night
    • Feeling like I was easily replaceable and wasn’t making enough of an impact in the work I did
    • Not having spent meaningful time with friends in over a year
    • A wandering mind that was almost never present
    • Snapping at my husband (a lot!) for no real reason and being sour with peers who interrupted my work

    My list of woes was embarrassing, and I didn’t like who I was becoming. But it provided me with a roadmap for how to fix my problems. Moreover, it helped me recognize what purpose really is.

    Up until that point, I’d been looking externally for solutions and thought that I needed to find my true calling.

    The idea that purpose comes from one thing is a myth. And so is the idea that you find your purpose. You don’t find it; you create purpose in life by:

    • using your strengths to make an impact (in an enjoyable way),
    • aligning your life around your core values, and
    • having a sense of belonging.

    Let’s talk about what these mean and how I course corrected in each area.

    1. Utilizing your strengths to make an impact (in a way that’s enjoyable)

    Most people understand that purpose comes (at least partially) from making an impact. But there’s more to it than that.

    If you want to make an impact that’s meaningful, then you need to utilize your skills to the best of your ability (and that requires that you enjoy what you’re doing). That’s how you get and stay motivated.

    My problem was that I felt like my strengths weren’t being fully utilized in the work I was doing—and that I was stuck in the same role, stagnating.

    So, I asked to do more and sought out work from new people. Eventually, I changed firms to work in a different area of corporate finance that was better suited to my abilities.

    2. Aligning your life around your core values

    Core values are principles that make you uniquely you. They affect how you see the world around you and how you make decisions (even if you’re not consciously aware of it).

    When your life doesn’t align with your values, you’ll feel like something’s missing.

    One of the biggest reasons I was so unhappy was because I wasn’t living according to several of my core values. One of my values is family—not only was I not spending much time with them, but I wasn’t exactly present when I did.

    Another one of my values is to connect (which, for me, means connecting deeply with those around me and to stay connected with myself). My quest to do more and work harder make that almost impossible.

    I felt disconnected from family, friends, and peers alike. And my lack of sleep and high stress made it difficult to understand my own thoughts and emotions.

    To fix this, I first set work boundaries and reduced my workload.  Then, I prioritized self-care and time with family and friends.

    3. Feeling that you belong

    Having a sense of belonging is key to happiness. It brings meaning to your life.

    Belonging includes feeling needed, accepted, and loved. To have a sense of belonging requires active effort on your part. It requires that you seek to connect with other people that give you a sense of belonging.

    Unfortunately, the way in which we live often disconnects us from one another. We choose technology over in-person contact and hurry through life to get to the next thing.

    That’s what I had been doing. I was disconnected from those who had always understood me, and even worried that they wouldn’t understand what I was going through. But how could they when I rarely saw or talked to them?

    Luckily, this was fixable—the things I was already doing to better connect with family and friends helped to increase my sense of belonging. Plus, I rejoined organizations that I’d previously been too busy for (and missed).

    This experience gave me a blueprint to follow for life.

    One that helped me figure out why I craved more meaning in life after battling breast cancer (turns out that how I defined one of my core values—service—had changed). But the second time was different because I was confident that I could figure it out.

    It’s easy to get caught up in society’s expectations while climbing the ladder of success that’s set before you. Don’t let that happen, as you’ll likely lose yourself.

    Instead, use the blueprint above to help you create a life that’s meaningful to you.

  • Why My Grandfather Was Happy Even When He Was Dying

    Why My Grandfather Was Happy Even When He Was Dying

    “It’s not the events of our lives that shape us, but our beliefs as to what those events mean.” ~Tony Robbins

    Is there anyone in your past that inspired you to become the person you are today? For me, that was my grandfather, Charlie.

    Charlie grew up a poor farm boy in a small South Carolina town and ended up an executive in a Fortune 250 company. He was a poster child for the American dream, and I respected him for it.

    But what I admired most was his character. Charlie was always content with life, regardless of his circumstances. He prioritized servant leadership and measured his self-worth based on how well he served others.

    People were drawn to him because of these characteristics.

    I only had twenty-five years with my grandfather, yet he had a tremendous impact on my life. Although I learned much from him during that time, the most significant lessons came near the end of his life as he was dying.

    For most of his life, Charlie was active and fit. He played football in college, golfed throughout adulthood, and was a master gardener (he had a spectacular rose and tomato garden).

    But all of that quickly came to an end after he was diagnosed with ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease).

    ALS is an incurable and fatal disease of the nervous system marked by progressive muscle weakness within most of the body’s muscles. Its symptoms cause difficulty with walking, picking things up, and even breathing.

    Over a short time period, Charlie went from regularly golfing and gardening to being unable to do much (other than watch his body slowly waste away). He couldn’t drive, needed full-time oxygen, and had trouble walking on his own.

    Given his condition, you’d think he would have exhibited (at least some) anger, frustration, or depression. Yet he didn’t. Instead, he was the happy, content man I’d grown up with.

    Initially, I assumed that he was hiding how he really felt so that he could remain the strong patriarch of our family. But over time, I realized that he wasn’t faking it. He was happy despite all that he was going through.

    As a young, stressed-out law student who couldn’t fathom handling his situation half as well has he was, I wanted to know how this could be. So, I got up the courage to ask him.

    Charlie told me that happiness has nothing to do with your circumstances or how you feel physically. Happiness is about who you are. 

    Unfortunately, I had no clue what he meant. But Charlie had a way of ending conversations when he felt that he’d said enough, and this was clearly one of those moments. So, I shut up and hoped that I’d one day get it.

    That day came only a few weeks later when I helped Charlie drive my grandmother’s car to a local service station he frequented. The day was cold, grey, and misty—and Charlie was having an especially tough time breathing and walking.

    When we got there, the mechanic made a point to come talk to my grandfather (which should have been a clue of what was to come, but I was oblivious). After chatting for a few minutes, he went outside to get to work.

    To my dismay, Charlie wanted to follow him. As I assisted my grandfather up and outside, I wondered if following was the best idea and worried about how he’d be affected physically while standing in the cold, wet weather.

    For the next forty-five minutes, Charlie stood outside and talked to the mechanic while he worked. I often had to repeat what my grandfather said, because his voice was going, but that didn’t seem to matter. Both men laughed and enjoyed each other’s company.

    On our way home, Charlie nodded off and his breathing sounded terrible. Later that day I asked him why he’d used so much of his energy to talk to a man he barely knew and had nothing in common with.

    He looked me in the eyes and told me that what he was about to say was important and I’d better listen.

    Charlie told me to never discount or disrespect people so easily. He emphasized that most people are wise and have lessons to teach. The key is to be open and willing to listen.

    That’s when I finally got it.

    Charlie was happy and content because of how he viewed himself, his place in the world, and even the people in it. For him, life was about being of service to and in relationship with other people.

    My grandfather believed that everyone has unique gifts to share with the world, and that his role in life was two-fold:

    1. To fully understand his own gifts and use them to serve others
    2. To allow people to use their gifts for his benefit and be open to learning from them

    Charlie believed that serving people is part of being in relationship with them. And he understood that service comes in many forms, including through simple everyday moments such as taking the time and effort to talk to your mechanic while they work on your car.

    One of the things I learned from Charlie that day is to stay curious about people, especially about those who seem different. He was fascinated by these differences and wanted to know what motivated them and what they dreamed about. He aimed to see their soul.

    This viewpoint enabled him to look at people as human beings who are vulnerable, dream big, and feel. That’s what enabled him to be so open to and accepting of others no matter who they were, what they did for a living, or how different their beliefs were.

    Charlie also understood that relating to and connecting with others is a two-way street. To connect with people means allowing them to help you. You must be willing to be vulnerable.

    The interesting thing about vulnerability, accepting help, and allowing yourself to learn from others is that it’s actually an act of service. By opening yourself up this way you’re allowing someone else to fully realize and use their gifts.

    That’s why Charlie so gracefully accepted the vulnerability his illness brought upon him. And it’s why he was content and even happy those last difficult years.

    Once I understood the answer behind why Charlie was always so content with life, regardless of his circumstances, it raised an important question. How could I be that way?

    I wish I could tell you that I immediately figured that out. Truth is, I’ve worked for years to get to a place where I can finally say that I’m closer to where I wanted to be. And I’m still a work in progress.

    I’ve tried just about every mindset practice there is out there, from self-affirmations to focusing on the positive. Many have been dumped and all have been revised over time.

    Here’s what has worked for me (that I still do consistently):

    1. When dealing with negative and stressful situations, I remind myself that every experience is an opportunity for growth and development.

     I identify what can be learned and focus on that. This isn’t the same thing as always being positive. It’s about not getting stuck in negativity.

    2. I observe people closely when in public and try to identify the emotions and feelings that they’re exhibiting.

    And then I take it further by imagining what their dreams might be and what they fear. Basically, I get curious. This practice has made me a more intuitive people-reader (which has helped me both personally and professionally). And it’s also made me more accepting and less judgmental of people and their differences.

    3. I try to add value to someone’s life daily by being kind or of service to someone.

    It might mean complementing a co-worker on a new outfit, reaching out to an old friend I haven’t talked to in a while to tell them I care, or going out of my way to be kind to a waitress who’s been rude (and obviously not having a good day). Doing this has made me more aware of my surroundings and the people in it and helped me to better connect with people more quickly. It’s also made me more compassionate and kind.

    4. I’m grateful for something small every day.

    I’ve found that gratitude helps me to see the good in the world (and in people) and to have a more positive attitude, especially if I focus on the so-called little things. And when times get tough, I force myself to be grateful for what others are doing to help me. I started that practice when I battled breast cancer. It helped me accept my vulnerability with more grace.

    —

    My grandfather was a wise man. I wish that he were here with me now but am hopeful that sharing what I learned from him will continue his legacy. A legacy worthy of being passed to (and by) others.

  • How I Found Happiness by Facing the Past I Worked So Hard to Escape

    How I Found Happiness by Facing the Past I Worked So Hard to Escape

    “Ten years from now, make sure you can say you chose your life, you didn’t settle for it.” ~Mandy Hale

    I spent most of my youth trying to escape. From the mother who drank too much and the violent men she dated and from the kids at school who made fun of me for wearing the same clothes every week.

    I felt shame and guilt because I believed that my circumstances defined who I was, which meant that I was unimportant, unworthy even.

    So, I created elaborate imaginary worlds where I was smart, successful, and often saved the day. Where I could pretend to be someone else and hide from my real life. By doing this, I buried all the emotions I had relating to my past.

    But these worlds faded as I grew older and needed a new escape. That’s when I decided that I’d stop pretending to be the overachieving smart girl and instead would become her. This way, I could focus on all my achievements and avoid my negative emotions .

    For a time, it worked. I dove headfirst into books, studied hard, and became the overachiever I’d set out to be. This led me to college, then to law school, and finally into the “real” world where I got a high-paying job with a prestigious law firm.

    I finally realized that my past experiences and circumstances didn’t define who I was. Yet I still didn’t quite know what did. So I redefined myself based on my achievements, since this made me feel important.

    But several years into my law practice, my achievement-based self-worth was working against me. I was running myself ragged. On paper I seemingly had “it all,” yet I felt stressed out, exhausted, and deeply unhappy. All the feelings of unworthiness had come rushing back.

    I couldn’t keep up. Lawyers are smart and successful people, and I realized that there would always be someone smarter and more successful than me—which meant I would always feel unworthy.

    Although I knew that my past didn’t define who I was, I was beginning to understand that my reaction to it did. By running away from my past and refusing to deal with the pain it had caused, I’d inadvertently allowed it to have power over me.

    I needed to process the feelings I’d been burying so that I could finally move on. But that terrified me. I was worried that facing my past and the emotions that came with it would change me and negatively affect my relationships (especially my marriage).

    So, I convinced myself that I should keep going as I was and that I didn’t have much choice. To make myself feel better, I blamed the legal profession, my law firm, and even some of my colleagues for my misery.

    Until one evening my husband, who was tired of hearing my complaints, told me to do something about it. Although I don’t remember the exact words he used, I remember clearly what I heard: it was all my fault.

    Of course, he wasn’t trying to blame me. He was trying to tell me to deal with my emotions and my situation instead of continuing to live in misery.

    After going to bed mad, I awoke the next morning with a new understanding. I finally appreciated what my husband was trying to tell me and knew that he was right. I had a choice. I needed to choose to heal my pain—no one could do it for me.

    That’s when I discovered that doing nothing is a choice, and that choosing to ignore my past and the pain that came with it was changing me into someone I didn’t like.

    I complained incessantly and was moody. My husband felt the brunt of my negativity. In fact, we were spending more time apart. If I didn’t change course, my marriage could be irreparably harmed.

    It was time to take responsibility for my own happiness and renew my self-esteem, and that meant revisiting my past.

    My history had obviously influenced my decisions, how I regarded myself, and how I viewed the world around me. The story I’d been telling myself about my past and how it had shaped me was a key piece to my current self-esteem issues and unhappiness. However, this was happening on a subconscious level. I needed to make an active choice.

    I took time to remember the events from my childhood that I’d worked so hard to bury. When doing this, I focused on how they made me feel and why I felt that way. Then I asked myself what lessons I wanted to take from these experiences.

    Processing the emotions I’d been holding in for so long was freeing. I was able to regard my life’s experiences as what they really were—things that had happened to and around me that I had no control over. I chose what I wanted to take from them and created a new story for myself based on that.

    For example, for years I didn’t understand why I felt powerless anytime I sensed myself being even slightly pinned in, weighted down, or stuck. Any time that I felt this way, I rebelled in unhealthy ways. Going through this process helped me realize that, because I’d felt like a caged bird with no escape in sight as a child, I have a deep-seated need to feel unrestricted.

    I identified what causes me to feel this way (including why I felt so caged within my career at that time) and how to make decisions—both personally and professionally—so that I don’t inadvertently again end up feeling trapped. Now I know that this helpless feeling is a sign to pause and assess what’s going on so that I can quickly change course.

    I also learned that, because I tried to “escape” so often during my youth, I often felt disconnected from those around me. Never again will I feel that way. Connecting with others is now one of my top core values, and I strive to cultivate deep connections with family, friends, and even colleagues.

    Finally, the guilt and shame I felt while watching my mother get beaten while drowning herself with alcohol made me feel weak. I now know that my experiences helped me develop mental and emotional strength and resiliency.

    Instead of feeling ashamed of my past and worried about what others might think, I’m proud of who I’ve become because of what I went through. I now consider myself an emotionally strong powerhouse who stands up and fights fiercely for herself and others. I’ve re-written my story.

    Contrary to what I originally believed, this process didn’t negatively affect my relationships or require me to leave my career. But it did make me a more positive and happier person. And, although it wasn’t easy, it empowered me to take responsibility for my own happiness and taught me some huge life lessons.

    I now understand that I had to accept my past in order to release its hold over me and heal my pain, and that acceptance isn’t the same thing as being okay with something. I also learned that I get to create my own story about who I am and what my life’s experiences have taught me.

    I also discovered what it means to be happy.

    Most people think happiness is about being cheerful, positive, or laughing a lot. But positivity can be fake, and even people who are depressed laugh. And there are calm and serious folks who are happy.

    I define happiness as being content and satisfied with who and where you are, regardless of your circumstances.

    Because I know who I am, I’m able to make better decisions for myself and am content with my life, even when it gets messy. My perspective around happiness has helped me to get through many trying and scary times in my life, including during a year-long battle with an aggressive breast cancer.

    If you take nothing else from my story, please remember the following (especially during times when you know a change is in order, but you’re scared to take the plunge):

    1. You have a choice—about who you are, how you live, and whether you’re happy. Be sure you’re actively making a choice for yourself.

    2. Choosing is often hard. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be much of a choice. But don’t delude yourself into believing that doing nothing isn’t a choice, because it is. And there are risks involved with doing nothing, just like there are risks with making a change.

    3. You are not your past. Although your past helped shape you, you can choose how it shapes you going forward. These choices create the story you tell yourself and the world, which impacts your decisions—and ultimately shapes your life.