Tiny Buddha

Author: Jen Picicci

  • Learning to Have Faith That All Is Well

    Learning to Have Faith That All Is Well

    “If you believe it will work out, you’ll see opportunities. If you believe it won’t, you will see obstacles.” ~Wayne Dyer

    Gwen and I first met at a lactation group for new moms. She seemed like someone I’d get along with, and we talked here and there, eventually becoming Facebook friends, but nothing more.

    Fate (or just good luck) intervened, though, when we met up again months later at the first birthday party of a mutual acquaintance’s daughter.

    Gwen was the only person I knew at the party (other than the hostess, of course), and I was the only person she knew, so we started chatting. I was quickly reminded of how much I liked her, and after she told me she was desperate to hang out with someone other than her retired next door neighbor, we made a plan to meet up.

    We clicked immediately. We talked parenting, politics, relationships, and more, and on a really deep, intimate level. I felt like I’d known her forever, and by the end of our first playdate she said something along the lines of, “I really like you and I’m so glad we had the chance to meet again!”

    I felt so happy and full, and our relationship continued along this way for more than a year. Our kids were close in age, so we’d play at each other’s houses, meet at a playground, or do some sort of activity. One time we went away to a lake for a few nights and I had more fun (and talked more) than I’d had since I was a teenager.

    Then things changed a little bit. We both got busier, and the fact that we lived about forty minutes away from one another made it challenging to hang out. Our visits dwindled to about once a month instead of once a week, though we were always happy to see each other.

    Or so I thought.

    A few months after this shift, we went more than a month without seeing each other. I had contacted her at one point, but she had said she wasn’t available on any of the days I was free.

    Two more weeks passed and I heard nothing. Finally, with her birthday on the horizon, I texted her to say that it was weird not talking to her, and that I missed her. No response.

    I texted a childhood friend, someone whom I’ve known for decades, and asked her what she thought I should do. She said Gwen was probably just busy, and I shouldn’t worry about it.

    A couple of days later I sent another follow up text to Gwen, one that simply said “Hello?” and heard nothing once again.

    I started to get really down whenever I thought about the situation. Even though we’d both been much busier lately, each taking on part-time jobs and working on side businesses of our own, I felt gloomy and worried. I thought we’d be friends for the long haul.

    One night, while I was lying in bed, I talked to myself about just letting it go. Being mad wasn’t going to do anything, being hurt wasn’t going to help, and I’d done my best to reach out.

    And then you know what? I woke up one day and there was a text from her.

    It said, “Did you get my texts?? I think something is wrong with my phone, because I haven’t heard from you at all, but I just saw that all of your recent texts had gone to my iPad!” I immediately texted her back, and we realized the issue had to do with her getting a new phone, a technological glitch.

    We happily texted each other back and forth, with me even telling her how I was wondering what the heck was going on, and quickly made plans for the next week.

    When I went online later that same day, I saw she’d posted a message on my timeline that said something similar to her text: “I don’t think our texts are getting to each other. Message me!”

    Here’s what struck me when I read that: Gwen had faith. In herself, in our friendship, perhaps in life in general.

    I did not.

    Why did I automatically assume she didn’t want to be friends with me anymore after she didn’t respond to just a couple of texts? Why didn’t I send her a message on Facebook? Why didn’t I try calling her? Why did I just give up?

    I realized this was a pattern with me; I was often looking for the bad in things rather than the good. Looking for reasons why things wouldn’t work out rather than why they would. This was something I needed to change.

    The incident with Gwen happened nearly two years ago now, and thinking back on it, I see how much I’ve changed and how much better my attitude is.

    First of all, I’ve realized how much my thoughts and outlook impact every single area of my life. In this scenario, I could have told myself something kind instead of assuming the worst. I could have thought, “It’s been a long time, I bet Gwen misses seeing me, too!” instead of thinking she didn’t want to be friends anymore.

    I had and have no control over someone else’s thoughts or actions, so even if it was true that Gwen didn’t want to have a friendship anymore, I could have looked for things to appreciate instead of automatically jumping to the bad.

    Thinking about how thankful I was to have had the friendship when I really needed it while at home with a young child, or being appreciative of meeting someone I could talk to so easily, regardless of how long the relationship lasted, would have both been more beneficial stories to tell myself than the negative ones.

    Second, I’ve developed more faith in myself and in life. I’ve often struggled to believe that things can work out, regardless of the area of my life I’m thinking about (career, relationships, finances), and focusing on what’s working rather than dwelling on the negative has made a big difference.

    Sure, things can go wrong, but my deep sense of believing it’s going to be okay regardless of what’s happening in the moment has caused a big shift in my world. If the same thing happened today, I have confidence that I would tell myself, “All is well, and no matter how this works out, I can handle it.”

    Third, I’ve worked on changing the “I’m not good enough” story that makes me question my worth as a human being. Talk about a recurring theme in my life! Whether I was stressed about my performance at work or worrying over a guy I liked, I often had the “not good enough” story on repeat in the background. This affected the Gwen situation in a big way, because I was letting myself believe I was somehow unworthy of our friendship and believing something was wrong with me.

    This is still a work in progress, but I’ve come a long way. Catching myself when I have these thoughts is important, as well as reminding myself that it’s just something I’m making up, and humans all have similar thoughts. Getting stuck in them makes things worse; doing something positive for myself, like going for a walk or taking a nap, can make them better.

    Lastly, I’ve tried to just stop worrying. About everything. Yes, that’s a tall order, and no, I’m not completely there yet, but being aware of my worry allows me to channel it into something else.

    For instance, if I found myself worrying over my friendship status with someone now, I’d stop, take a step back, and ask myself if there’s anything I could take action on in that moment. If I decided yes, I’d take that action, whether it was picking up the phone or sending an email, but if I decided no, I’d be diligent about changing my focus to something else. Worry doesn’t solve anything, it only digs you into a deeper hole.

    It can feel difficult to shift deeply ingrained thoughts and patterns, but when you realize they’re making your life harder and sadder than it needs to be, you’ll see they’re worth the work to change them.

  • Easing Anxiety: How Painting Helps Me Stop Worrying

    Easing Anxiety: How Painting Helps Me Stop Worrying

    “Our anxiety does not come from thinking about the future, but from wanting to control it.” ~Kahlil Gibran

    Anxiety has followed me around like a lost dog looking for a bone for years now.

    I feel it the most acutely when I’m worried about my health or my daughter’s health. I notice a strange rash or feel an unusual sensation and all of a sudden: panic!

    My worries are not limited to health concerns though, and my ruminations go in the direction of dread about the future of the world, worries about my finances, and fears that I’m not good enough.

    Is my anxiety warranted? My mind tells me it is.

    “Remember how you had that bad reaction to a medication? It could happen again!”

    “You know how your daughter had that febrile seizure two years ago? You never know what could happen next!”

    “Think back to that time you and your family had a slow winter and were extremely worried about money. That could be just around the corner!”

    And on and on my mind goes. I know I shouldn’t believe what it tells me, but sometimes I get sucked under and can’t help it.

    I don’t think I was anxious like this when I was a kid. I think these underpinnings of nervousness started when I was older, probably my late twenties. I suppose by then I’d lived enough life to know that things can and do go wrong.

    I don’t like feeling anxious. I don’t like the way my body feels jangly and my mind races. I don’t like it when I can’t focus on the thing I’m supposed to be doing.

    But this is not a sad story, it’s a story of tiny improvements and little steps forward. It’s a journey of finding peace in the middle of a storm.

    For me that peace began with painting.

    Let me go back a few decades, back to when anxiety wasn’t part of my life. When I was a child, I loved art. I drew, I colored, I took extra art classes on the weekends because that’s what I enjoyed.

    I went to college to become an art teacher, switching to a graphic design track later. When I finished school in May of 2001, I had a part-time design job, and after the events of September 2001, I knew I needed to travel, to get out of the safe life I was living in my hometown.

    That’s when my creative practices fell by the wayside. I would never give up those years of travel and camping and working random jobs, but when I look back, I see this is where I stopped making art.

    Luckily, after the birth of my daughter in 2014, the desire to create came roaring back. At first, I was using a tiny corner of a bedroom in our small mountaintop rental house to paint. Eventually we bought a house, and I had the space to spread out, to keep my supplies on top of my desk, ready to paint whenever the urge struck.

    That’s when I started noticing something important: Painting stilled me in a way that nothing else did. It eased my fears and anxieties in a way other practices (deep breathing, meditating) did not, at least not as consistently.

    Painting is my peaceful place. Painting brings me directly into the moment, quickly and easily. You know how you’re supposed to stay mindful and present? That’s what painting does for me, no tips or tricks or timers or mantras needed.

    Yes, I use other methods to quell my anxiety, but painting is my absolute favorite. I get to bring forth something new. I get to flow with wherever the brush takes me. I get to be still inside while the rest of the world drops away, all while allowing something beautiful to emerge.

    When anxious thoughts start to swirl, I know what to do. I head into my studio, grab some materials, and start creating. Soon enough, the spiraling worries are gone and instead my mind is quiet.

    Even if you aren’t artistic, even if you don’t have a creative bone in your body, I still think you can achieve the stillness I achieve when painting. You might not have a brush in your hand, though!

    First things first: If you struggle with anxiety, you should seek the help of a licensed professional. As helpful as painting is, I also see a counselor, and the tools she’s given me are absolutely priceless.

    Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, here are the other ways I think stillness and peace can be found, even if you’re not meditating or breathing deeply while counting to ten.

    Think back to what brought you joy and the feeling of flow when you were a child. Maybe for you it was playing sports or a musical instrument; writing your own sketches or training your dog to roll over. Whatever it was, look for ways to add more of it back into your life now.

    Start paying attention to your life as an adult and what activities make you forget about the time. When are you fully immersed? When do you fully let go? Maybe it’s during a yoga or meditation class, but maybe it’s when you’re preparing a meal for your family or writing up a budget for work.

    Still your mind any time you remember. I do this now, especially when I’m not painting. I know that a still mind releases my anxiety, and I also know I can’t paint all hours of the day. Simply noticing the feeling of my body on the chair below me or listening to the sounds in the room around me helps my mind to quiet.

    I think the reason painting is so helpful for my anxiety is that, in order for me to be anxious, I have to be worrying about the future and what it holds. When I’m doing an activity that requires my full concentration, I have to be in the moment; there is no other choice.

    All of the practices that we can use to find calm, whether it’s changing our thoughts, following our breath, repeating a prayer or mantra, they all rely on the same thing: bringing our presence to the now.

    What activity brings you into the now? What makes you feel fully alive and entwined with the moment? It doesn’t matter if you’re artistic. It doesn’t matter if you like making things. The only thing that matters is finding a way to be here, in the now, instead of in the unknowable future.

    **Artwork by the author, Jen Picicci

  • Why I Want to Stop Judging and How This Opens My Heart

    Why I Want to Stop Judging and How This Opens My Heart

    “The quicker you are in attaching verbal or mental labels to things, people, or situations, the more shallow and lifeless your reality becomes, and the more deadened you become to reality.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Things are hard right now, aren’t they? When I first started writing this article about my goal to drop labels so I could live without judgment, I was thinking I didn’t want to judge people at the gym based on what their T-shirts said.

    Now I’m trying not to judge people in my local community and around the country for taking actions that make me feel afraid for my safety and the safety of my family. It’s quite a different kettle of fish, let me tell you.

    In some ways, though, this experience has clarified something for me: We are all human and we are all doing our best. And judging someone else’s best, someone else’s beliefs, does nothing but harm us.

    I’ve spent a long time trying to become aware, trying to become more conscious, trying to practice gratitude and compassion.

    But this pandemic, it’s testing me.

    When I read a news article about people in my town caravanning down Main Street, protesting the stay-at-home orders, I admit my mind immediately jumped in with negative labels and assumptions.

    And I bet those same people caravanning would judge me in an unflattering way, as well.

    That’s the thing with judgment—it cuts both ways and there is no final answer. There’s no way to know who is “right.” Likely because we all have glimmers of truth in our belief systems.

    I also find myself listening to the news and calling people names, both out loud to my husband and inside my own head, which is just another way of labeling and judging them. It makes my insides feel awful, but I’ve noticed my fear makes it hard for me to stop.

    Since I don’t want to spend my entire existence during this crazy time wrapped up in a ball of nerves, worries, and anger, though, I’m realizing it’s more important now than ever to try to let go of labels.

    But how?? How can I let go when I think that guy over there is doing something stupid, something that might literally kill me?

    There’s one thing I’m certain of, and it’s that I feel better, calmer, and more present when I stop listening to and believing the chatter of my mind. When I go outside and take a walk, when my mind is busy admiring the flowers rather than tearing down the politicians, I’m at peace.

    I want more of that. Fewer labels. More compassion. So here’s how I’m currently encouraging myself to let go of judgments.

    I’m reminding myself that labeling helps nothing. Nothing at all. Whether you’re labeling people who want everything to stay closed for a long time as ridiculous snowflakes or judging the leader of a city who wants everything re-opened right now as a right-wing nut, you’re not helping.

    Judging other people won’t make you feel better, not really. It may temporarily make your ego feel self-important, or smart, or special, but if you’re in touch with yourself and your real feelings, it will just leave you feeling empty.

    When I judge, I get angry. When I get angry, I’m not compassionate or kind. I’m not calm and available with my kid. And all of this negative energy would be significantly lessened if I simply accepted people for what and who they are.

    Accepting our differences and other people’s opinions doesn’t mean taking no action, though. It just means taking action from a place of peace rather reacting from anger or fear. It means putting yourself in their shoes for a moment.

    Instead of commenting on someone’s Facebook post during a fit of rage (which will help nothing), take some deep breaths, then assess what the actual problem is.

    Can you do anything about it? Can you organize a petition or take other actions to protect yourself and your own family? If you can, go ahead and do it from a level-headed place.

    Judging someone from your home computer and getting riled up doesn’t help anything or anyone. Remember, these are people, too.

    I’m realizing that labeling is judging, plain and simple.

    You label someone as with you or against you, as old or young, as sick or healthy, as pretty or ugly. You label yourself as too wrinkly or too saggy, too nervous or too loud.

    They are all just words. Look at yourself and let your mind be still. Look at that person with the offensive (to you!) opinion and let it wash over you rather than tearing that person down in your mind.

    See that your mind is busy, busy, busy giving out comments and justifying why they’re necessary, when in reality it’s not helping anyone.

    I’m observing without the labels.

    I’m also noticing my judgments without labeling them.

    I would be embellishing the truth considerably if I told you I’m already really good at looking at things, especially other people with differing opinions about the way this pandemic should be handled, without labeling them.

    However, as part of this process I’m giving myself compassion. When I notice that I’m labeling someone or something, (She’s trying to do what!? Why he is saying that, it’s so dangerous! How did we get in this horrible position??), I simply stop.

    I take the time to notice that I’m making judgments without labeling myself as “not good at this” or “never going to change.” A huge shift like this takes time, and getting down on myself certainly will not make the process more enjoyable.

    I’m consciously inviting myself to notice the present moment.

    When I start judging others, it takes me out of enjoying what’s happening around me.

    Instead of relishing the smell of baked ziti in the oven, I’m grousing about what I just read online. Instead of appreciating the brightness of my daughter’s laugh, I’m mentally worrying about her smearing jelly all over her shirt. Instead of feeling the warmth of my husband’s hug, I’m inwardly grimacing at the smell of the paint on his t-shirt.

    I’m simply not there when I’m in my mind, labeling every little thing. And current life events have made that even more noticeable.

    Instead of getting sad about living so much of my life in judgment, though (which is just another label!), I’m going to feel appreciative that I’ve arrived at this point.

    I’m going to take a deep breath and come back to right now. I’m going to spend as much time as I can simply being in the present moment.

    Being in the present moment also makes these circumstances easier to deal with. Instead of worrying when it will be over, or what tomorrow will be like, I can simply live in the now, my mind clear, my heart open.

  • I Spent Years Looking for Happiness in the Wrong Places

    I Spent Years Looking for Happiness in the Wrong Places

    “Never put the key to your happiness in someone else’s pocket.” ~Unknown

    About ten years ago I made the mistake of re-reading my journal from high school. Wow, was I ever a miserable, slightly unstable person.

    I dated the same (great) guy for three years, but looking back over my handwritten confessions, you would have thought I was dating Mussolini. I had endless complaints, wanted to control everything my boyfriend did, and every other word I wrote was a gripe. And this was about a guy I tried to get to notice me for months before he finally asked me out!

    This was not the last time getting something I thought would make me happy didn’t do the trick.

    When I graduated from college, I was really stuck on the idea of losing weight. I’d gained some in college, but even after I lost what I’d gained, there was no satisfied feeling.

    Nope, I spent the next couple of years trying to lose more weight, and even when I got to my most slender and random strangers told me I looked great, I was still unhappy. I still thought something was wrong with me and was always trying to change myself for the “better.”

    It was as if getting the thing I wanted all along wasn’t actually the missing piece to my contentment.

    Still, when I gained some of that weight I’d lost back (because it was impossible to maintain long term), I kept trying to lose it again. For years. Seriously, years. I let it control my life. All because I thought it would make me happy… even though there was no evidence that weight loss would bring me any closer to peace than it had the first time.

    Once I was able to let that go (with therapy, lots of self-help, the death of my father, and getting pregnant), I found somewhere else to place my hopes for happiness: my career.

    This had already been lingering in the back of my mind as something to “fix,” but I didn’t really start focusing on it until I stopped obsessing about my body and was at home full time with my daughter.

    I got certification upon certification, got a graduate degree, started multiple online businesses, and even got myself accepted to a second graduate program, which I withdrew from before it started, thank goodness.

    Even once I pinpointed a career focus that felt satisfying and right, I was not happy. I found so many reasons to be upset, from telling myself I would never be successful to worrying that I wasn’t good enough at my chosen profession, to beating myself up for not being like some random person I was comparing myself to on the internet.

    Still, it wasn’t until earlier this year that I finally saw clearly, for the first time ever, that nothing was going to make me happy. Not love, not changing my body, not money, not my career.

    Before you write me a prescription for antidepressants, let me clarify: No thing will make me happy. And by thing, I mean external situation.

    Yes, it’s exciting to have a success in my business. My wedding day was lovely. Holding my daughter for the first time was miraculous.

    But all of those things are fleeting. Achievements and milestones can only lift the mood temporarily.

    Long lasting contentment is possible, though. I just wasn’t looking for it in the right place. I spent decades looking outside instead of inside.

    Now that I know what to do, I can access peace at just about any moment of my day. It’s not the giddy happiness of getting asked out for the first time by a long haired boy in a Nirvana T-shirt, but it’s steady, and it’s deep, and it’s long lasting.

    Here are some ways I access that still, yet joyful part of myself, no matter how much I weigh or how much money I’m making.

    1. I take the focus away from the past and the future and place them on the now.

    Let’s say I look out the window and see that the sunset is absolutely spectacular, and I go outside to take a closer look.

    Things can go a couple different ways at this point. I could see the sunset and let my thoughts run away with me, telling me things like, “go get your phone and post this on Instagram!” or “Oh my gosh this reminds me of that sunset I saw with my husband when we were up in New York and then it got so cold and then the baby got sick and we had to take her to urgent care because we couldn’t figure out what was wrong and the place was out of network and we got this huge bill and that was right before we realized the car needed a new transmission…”
    I think you get the idea. I’m definitely not experiencing or deriving any happiness from the sunset at this point.

    The other way to experience the sunset is to try to keep yourself physically in the present moment, enjoying what is happening around you right now.

    Feel the breeze on your skin. Feel the way your stomach rises and falls while you breathe. Feel the way there is an energy, almost an aliveness in your hands and fingers. Try to see the sunset without labeling it, and if your mind starts taking you away from enjoying the sunset, gently bring its attention back to the beauty around you and the sensations you’re experiencing in your body.

    2. I breathe. And I pay attention while I do it.

    This is really just another way to quiet the mind. Because quieting the mind is the only way to feel lasting happiness.

    Getting a boyfriend didn’t make me happy because my mind constantly came up with reasons things should be different. Losing weight didn’t make me happy because I was constantly thinking about the ways my body should be better. My career has brought more stress than joy because I think about it, what it should and shouldn’t be, instead of just letting it exist as it is.

    So back to the breathing thing. Breathing brings you into your body and out of your head. Breathing gives your mind something to focus on instead of your (negative) thoughts. Breathing brings you to the present.

    3. I consciously remove the pressure from my life circumstances.

    Here’s what all my past disappointments have had in common: me expecting them to make me happy. That’s not working for me anymore.

    Maybe it sounds sad or disappointing to you, but realizing that external situations, things society in general celebrates as success, aren’t going to do anything for my well-being is incredibly liberating.

    Once you realize that a promotion, that a baby, that a new dress isn’t going to make you happy, you’re free. You can still enjoy those things, of course you can, but you don’t have to put the entire weight of your happiness on them.

    So where does that leave us? It leaves us in the moment. Breathing now, creating space in our minds now. It leaves us quiet, still. It leaves us able to let go of judgment, of doubt, of chaos. It lets joy flow through us instead of making us cling to every compliment from a stranger or new pair of shoes.

    You can do this, too. You can allow your life to unfold instead of pressuring it and yourself to look a certain way. You can find a lasting happiness that you’ve never known possible. You just have to stop expecting it to come from a place outside of you.

  • Why Positive Thinking Drained Me (and How I’ve Found Peace)

    Why Positive Thinking Drained Me (and How I’ve Found Peace)

    “Glimpses of love and joy or brief moments of deep peace are possible whenever a gap occurs in the stream of thought.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Eleven years ago I read a book that was life changing for me. It taught me something I never considered during the previous twenty-nine years—that I could change my thoughts.

    The book was Loving What Is, by Byron Katie. It set me forth on a journey that included dozens of books that communicated the same thing: We think the same thoughts all day long, over and over, and many of them are negative, filled with worry, and not at all helpful. And we have the power to change those thoughts.

    I’ve lived by that belief ever since—that I have the power to change my thoughts and that reframing negative thoughts to better ones makes my life happier.

    This year, though, I hit a wall. Although my life and confidence and sense of self have improved tremendously in the past decade, some things were still not as I wished them to be.

    I felt unhappy much more often than I would have liked. I felt a low level anxiety on and off most days. I worried about money frequently. I just didn’t feel the way I wanted to feel.

    I kept reading more books. I kept trying to find a way to be consistently positive. I remember one weekend when I was feeling down I just repeated positive phrases to myself over and over all day long, but felt like I was barely keeping my head above water.

    In fact, it was the very next day that I hit a breaking point. My mind was tired from trying so, so hard to be positive all the time. I was struggling to keep it together and to stay upbeat.

    That morning I took my daughter to her swimming lesson, the first after a weeklong break, and things started to unravel. I wasn’t sitting where she expected me to be, she got upset, and after she found me, she clung to me. She wouldn’t get back in the water. She wouldn’t do what I wanted.

    I got frustrated. I got angry. In fact, when I looked back over the previous few weeks, I saw I’d been getting angry a lot lately. It was as if the harder I pushed myself to be positive, the more resentful I got about what I didn’t have.

    Eventually I calmed down. I brought my daughter home but still felt tied up in knots. I expressed anger to my husband, I cried, I felt out of control.

    By the next day the fog had lifted. I knew I couldn’t keep going like I had been. I knew forcing myself to try to be positive all the time was not the answer and was completely unsustainable for the long term.

    That’s when I picked up my copy of The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. I’ve had this book on my shelf for probably that entire eleven years I was trying to change my thoughts, but I’d never read it. I guess I just wasn’t ready for it.

    Tolle tells the reader what he knows to be the truth: What’s happening in this moment is the only thing that’s ever real, and the only thing that ever matters. The mind wants us to worry about the future and ruminate about the past. But that is what keeps us disconnected, and separate from inner peace.

    I finally felt, deeply, what I’d been missing for all those years: That for me to feel completely free I didn’t need to keep trying to think positively, I needed to stop attaching to my thoughts at all.

    This has been such an enormous shift for me that it’s hard for me to even put it into words. I spent so much time, so much energy, trying to reframe thoughts, to question if they were true, to choose thoughts that felt better, and now I feel free from that.

    There’s absolutely nothing wrong with reframing your thoughts. Nothing at all. It did improve my life, and it will improve yours if you’re used to believing everything your thoughts tell you.

    But, for me at least, it’s no longer the way to a better life. Noticing my thoughts and just letting them go by brings me greater inner peace than I have ever felt.

    Here’s what I’m doing differently now that I’ve had this realization.

    I’m no longer setting specific goals. I’m a bit start-and-stop on setting goals anyway, but for now I’ve just stopped setting them completely. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to get things done, it just means I’m not putting a lot of energy into letting my mind come up with a big list of things it “should” be doing.

    None of that really means anything. Yes, making more money or being more “successful” in my work might mean more travel or newer shoes, but that does not lead to sustained peace.

    Being right here, observing what’s happening in this moment, is what leads to sustained peace.

    I’m not trying to think positively. This is a big change and a positive one for me (oh, the irony!). Trying to think positively all the time was truly energy draining for me.

    This non-attachment to thought, though, is peaceful. It’s not easy, and it does take some effort, but I don’t feel like I’m trying to push an elephant through a keyhole with my mind anymore. Having glimpses of being truly present is fun and joyful.

    I’m coming back to the present moment over and over and over again. I’ve been saying “be here now” and “be mindful” for years now, but I’m not sure I really, truly got what that meant.

    What it means to me now is this: Breathe in and notice what it feels like. Notice what the inside of your body feels like. Look around you but don’t make judgments about what you see. When thoughts start to fill in the empty spaces, stop them. Refocus on what’s happening in this exact moment.

    I’m noticing when my mind is racing. In the past, I’d probably try to think happier thoughts. If my head was full of thoughts about how much I had to get done, I’d try to soothe myself with “I have time to do what’s most important” or something similar.

    Now when I notice my mind is racing, I see it as a reminder to get back to the present moment. If my mind is running away with thoughts, then I’m mostly definitely not in the here and now.

    I breathe. I look around. I see that my mind doesn’t want to stop thinking. It’s afraid to lose its job.

    No matter what you choose, if you want to live a more peaceful life, you’re going to have to make a change.

    You may choose to observe your thoughts and then switch them to ones that feel better. Or, like I’ve done recently, you may choose to go beyond your thoughts to the moment that’s unfolding right now. To stop letting your thoughts, good or bad, have any power over your life.

  • Confrontation Can Be Hard, But It’s Worth It

    Confrontation Can Be Hard, But It’s Worth It

    “When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.” ~Fred Rogers

    I was immediately uncomfortable when the older gentleman rode up on his bike and loudly told us that our kids shouldn’t be riding their bikes on the velodrome; it was against the rules.

    If it had been just me and my daughter, I would have said no problem and left the area, maybe even apologized. But I wasn’t alone, I was with my friend and her son, and my friend doesn’t back down from confrontation like I do.

    Instead of saying okay to him, she pressed him to explain himself. Where was the sign that said the kids couldn’t be riding their bikes (as this man was)? What was the issue?

    As I stood by uncomfortably, the two of them hashed things out. She turned to her son, age five, and told him that if he continued to ride on the tilted area of the track, this man might accidentally run into him, and asked if he understood that. Her son nodded his head.

    Suddenly, in the midst of the conversation, the man softened. He said he was just worried about hurting the kids, he wasn’t really mad, and soon he started coming up with suggestions for how the kids could stay safe. He said he’d call out before he got to where they were on the track, and then pointed out a blue line where, were they to stay below it, they would be safe, as he’d ride above it.

    The kids repeated the options, and my friend thanked the man for working with us to come up with a solution, then rode off. Each time he came around the track (he was much faster than our kids!), he’d yell out, and my friend’s son would get out of the way. My daughter chose to stay low, below the blue line, so she wasn’t in his way.

    This interaction may seem like nothing to you, but to me it was a big deal. Confrontation had been a very scary thing for me, something I avoided at all costs. The idea that my friend could not only stand up to confrontation, but elicit such a warm response from the person whom she was confronting left a huge impression on me.

    At that moment, I decided it was time for me to stop avoiding conflict. Lucky for me, I was almost immediately presented with many opportunities to prove to myself I could do it.

    First, I found out that a neighbor had an in ground pool with no fence around it. This made me feel uneasy (you know, because I have a five-year-old), and I felt like I at least needed to talk to him about it.

    You would be astonished at how nerve-wracking this was for me, but I knew I wanted to start talking to people, even when I was scared.

    The same day I decided I needed to speak to him, I got my chance. I was driving down the street, and there he was, walking. I pulled over and rolled down my window.

    I expressed that I hadn’t realized until the day before that his pool didn’t have a fence, and asked him if he’d ever considered putting a fence up.

    He said no, he’d had the pool built long before there were any regulations. I told him my daughter couldn’t swim yet and it made me nervous he didn’t have a fence. He acknowledged my concerns (though he wasn’t interested in building a fence), and then we parted ways.

    I made some calls to the local building and zoning departments, but apparently in the town where I live there aren’t any ordinances that would force my neighbor to build a fence, as he had hinted.

    The outcome of this encounter may not have been ideal, but I had to consider this a win. At least I’d spoken up and expressed my concerns, which I wouldn’t have done in the past.

    My next opportunity to express myself was at a kid’s birthday party, which was being held at a community pool. (Who knew pools caused so many confrontations!)

    A friend and I were talking, but someone kept squirting us with water. After a while we realized it was coming from an adult, which was a surprise, and we moved away from the area. Shortly thereafter, though, the squirting continued, this time hitting not only us, but the friends we’d moved closer to. It seemed clear at this point that we were being targeted on purpose.

    This would have been the perfect opportunity to confront the perpetrator, but my friend beat me to it, getting up out of her seat and marching over to the offender.

    It did not go well. I won’t get into the details, but she was called an offensive slur and a lifeguard ended up getting involved.

    It was during this incident that I was reminded why confrontation is so scary for me—what if someone gets mad at me?? However, I also saw that saying nothing meant being treated in a way that made me and everyone around me upset and uncomfortable, and no one should sit in silence in that sort of situation, even if it’s as minor as getting splashed at a pool.

    My third opportunity for confrontation came in my marriage, and I’m happy to say this one turned out very well, much better than the previous two encounters.

    My husband and I had been agitated, both in general and at each other, for a few days. One Friday morning we started talking about things and both ended up even more irritated, and our conversation ended with him making a comment about how I should (or rather, should not,) spend my money.

    Later in the morning, once we’d both had time to process things and my husband was at work, I called him.

    I told him all the ways I felt and all the ways I thought things were being mishandled in our relationship. By the end of the talk he was the one being proactive, suggesting that we needed to start carving out a block of reconnection time right after our daughter went to bed each night. He also apologized for his comment about the money.

    Confronting him about our disagreement and actually bringing into the light the things that were bothering me has made an enormous difference in our relationship. Since then I’ve felt confident in expressing how I feel at the moment I feel it, and he’s been incredibly receptive. I’m also more receptive to hearing feedback from him.

    I’ve had one other opportunity for confrontation since that day at the park, and this time it was regarding my daughter. And speaking up made me cry, but I’m glad I did it anyway.

    I had to take her to the dentist, something neither of us enjoys very much. I’m not a huge fan of this particular dentists’ office, but there aren’t many pediatric choices in my area.

    Admittedly, I was already not in a great headspace when we arrived at the appointment. We were taken to the back, and my daughter was asked to get up into the chair.

    The hygienist immediately started talking about how my daughter was going to have pictures taken (X-Rays), and then quickly started working on her teeth.

    My daughter starting crying at that point—she cries every time we go to the dentist. Have I mentioned she’s five?

    And then the hygienist started saying, over and over, “You don’t have to cry, stop crying, you don’t need to cry, don’t cry.” I came over and held my daughter’s hand and rubbed her leg, but the hygienist kept working and kept telling my daughter not to cry.

    This was really making my blood boil. If there’s one parenting tenant my husband and I stand by, it’s to let our child express and feel her feelings.

    This, coupled with the hygienist’s continued insistence that my daughter needed x-rays, but without discussing it with me first, pushed me over the edge.

    I started asking many, many questions about the necessity of the x-rays. As she answered with vague, boilerplate responses, I continued to feel frustrated, and realized I needed to tell her the thing that was really bothering me: Stop telling my daughter not to cry.

    She got defensive, and now it was my turn to start crying. I’m still new at this confrontation thing, and upsetting people, even when I disagree with them, makes me feel upset.

    I pressed forward, though, and told her that in our house, my daughter was allowed to express her emotions, even uncomfortable ones. I also told her I wanted to speak to the dentist about the x-rays and make my own choice about them.

    Later in the appointment, once I’d spoken to the dentist, my daughter was back in the chair getting the final treatment from the hygienist. She started to tear up again, and this time when the hygienist started to tell her not cry, she stopped herself. I considered that a win.

    Confrontation is really, really hard. For me, at least.

    I think it’s worth it, though. In just the month or two since I was inspired to start facing conflicts head on, I’ve improved my relationship with my husband and proven to myself that I’m willing to stand up for my child, which makes me feel like I’m being the mom I want to be.

    I think in order to start confronting others, you need a bit of bravery and a bit of a plan.

    You have to decide that you’re actually willing to talk to others, even if it’s going to be uncomfortable. Instead of making up random excuses in your head, you have to silence those fears and just go for it, no matter how worried you are about the outcome.

    My experience has shown me that it’s best to have a conversation when you’re calm, although that’s not always possible. When it is possible, though, I think being calm allows you to have perspective on the issues you really care about and have a clear vision of what you’re hoping to get out of the confrontation.

    In fact, I think that might be one of the most important factors to consider if you decide to take this on: What are you trying to achieve? Confrontation just for the sake of confrontation is pointless; you must have a reason to speak up.

    Do you want your boss to give you a raise? Do you want your sister to treat you like an adult? Do you want your child to move out of the house? Do you want your friend to start paying more attention to you than her phone? Figure it out ahead of time if at all possible.

    Once you’ve got a goal, you can decide what points you’d like to cover. This is, once again, assuming you’re able to pre-plan the confrontation.

    But what if you’re not? What if it sneaks up on you?

    Well, I think you have to do what I did at the dentist. You have to speak your truth in that moment, even if you cry. Yelling is acceptable, too, of course, though that may make it harder for the person to whom you are speaking to really take in what you’re saying.

    Remembering what you hope to get out of this is the most important thing, though. What’s your goal?

    Ultimately, confrontation will probably improve your life.

    Sometimes, though, you might lose a relationship. Your partner may not want you to stand up for yourself. Your coworker may not want you to take on more work and receive more credit. Your parents might not like that you’re leaving your high paying job for something that feels more satisfying to you.

    You’re not doing this for other people, though; you’re doing it for yourself. To prove that you know what you want and are not afraid to talk to other people about it. You’re not afraid to show the world what you really think and feel. You’re not willing to be treated poorly.

    In the end, anything that allows you to express what’s inside you is worth it. Even if you can’t get that fence built.

  • Why I Focus on the Now Instead of What I Want for the Future

    Why I Focus on the Now Instead of What I Want for the Future

    “The next message you need is always right where you are.” ~Ram Dass

    I want you to go back to New Year’s Day 2009 with me for a second. I’d recently left a job and was embarking upon a new career, one in which I was self-employed.

    I pulled out all the stops and created a vision board that contained all of the things: how much money I wanted to earn, how I wanted to dress, where I wanted to vacation, how I wanted to eat, and everything else I could think of. I thought if I created this vision board, if I planned out exactly how things would go, somehow I’d find satisfaction and peace.

    I remember later that same year visiting my then-boyfriend (now husband) when he was working out of state. The area where he was working was gorgeous, and I kept writing down the future I wanted, what it would be like to live in a place like this, how it would feel if only we could afford a place here, near the ocean.

    I also remember being obsessive and miserable.

    None of the stuff I was clinging to so tightly worked out. Life unfolded, all was well, but all that planning wasn’t making my life better; it was making it more stressful.

    Every year, I’d come up with new goals, new dreams. Almost always they’d have something to do with controlling the way I ate, or how much money I made, or how to figure out the “right” career for me.

    Even last year I bought a big old notebook, divided it into sections for each month, and wrote down goals. Big goals for the year, smaller goals for each month, all things designed to bring me the happiness I was seeking.

    But this past year has changed me. I no longer try to plan far into a future I can’t predict, and I no longer expect outside circumstances to bring me internal pleasure.

    I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I know pushing myself to visualize the life I wanted, over and over again, and obsessing about writing down my goals finally got to me. I finally got to a point where the last thing I wanted to do was think about those things.

    I wanted something new. I wanted to meet each moment where it was and ask myself: What’s next? What should I do now?

    Recently I was letting my mind spin into high anxiety mode. I was freaking out about money and career and every other thing you can think of. Instead of my usual planning and searching and trying to come up with something to work toward, I sat down.

    I got out my notebook. I opened it, and I asked myself, “What can I do right now to feel better?” I don’t remember what the answer was, but I’m certain it was something along the lines of “take a deep breath” or “lie down” or “relax.”

    In fact, that’s often the answer I get when I stop and ask what to do in the moment. It may seem weird—I mean, shouldn’t we be planning for our retirement? Maybe sometimes, but more often than not I believe stopping and realizing this is it, this is the moment to stop and breathe, this is the moment to chill out, is a better way to live, at least for me.

    I feel happier and more settled this year, and I don’t have a resolution or goal in sight. Here’s how I’m approaching life nowadays: with the intention to stay in the moment and simply do the next right thing.

    I didn’t come up with any resolutions for this year. Okay, I guess I have one, but it’s an intention, not a resolution: to remind myself to check in with the present moment rather than letting my mind go in circles trying to figure out what the future holds. Because that makes me feel worse, not better.

    I committed to letting go of obsession. I’m still human—I still have things I hope to achieve, and I still have dreams for where my career might go, I still have lots of places in the world I want to visit. I’m not giving up; I’m just doing things differently.

    As soon as I feel my anxiety start to rise, as soon as I start to think the same thoughts (or worry the same worries) over and over again about what the future may bring, even if it’s something positive, I stop. I stop thinking, I stop planning, and I breathe into the moment.

    I remind myself every single day to ask myself what’s next right now. Not what I should do next year, not what my five year plan should be—what I should do in a minute or two from now.

    The way I do this is pretty simple: I either pause for a moment and see which thing seems like the most delightful thing to do next, or, if I’m in a stressed out place, I pause and write to myself.

    It’s journaling, really, but a type where I’m having an internal dialogue with what I think of as my heart. I’m looking inward, intending to hear what the deepest part of me would like to do next rather than letting my mind run away with the show and tell me all of the things I should be worried about.

    I sit still, breathe deeply, think about something that makes me feel calm and content (that usually involves imagining or petting one of my cats), and then write down a question. I ask what to do now. I ask what I can do to calm down. Then I just listen.

    Like I said, the answers I usually get have to do with lying down, or resting, or relaxing, or letting myself have fun. It’s all stuff that sounds really great, truly. It makes me feel better, not worse.

    I can hear the arguments now, though: You have to have a plan. You can’t always have fun!

    I’m not suggesting you empty your 401k or sleep all day, not at all. I’m suggesting that, at least for me, checking in with myself and listening for what to do next—not worrying and obsessing about how to achieve, achieve, achieve—is the key to a calmer, happier life.

    Yes, I have dreams and a vision for the trajectory of my career. Yes, I think about my health. Yes, I have plans to travel this summer. But I think about those things when it’s time to think about them, like in the exact moment I’m at my computer and can look at rentals on Airbnb. I don’t need to worry about it, stress about it, and think about it at other times when I can’t do anything to change it.

    The same goes for everything else in my life: I can’t become an overnight success; what I can do is find out, in each moment, what would serve me in moving toward the ideas I have for my career. Sometimes I truly think I’m being told to rest because that is what will serve me best—because I need a break.

    It’s simple though not always easy: Slow down and check in with yourself. See what the next right move is, the thing you should be doing in the next few minutes. I know it makes me feel calmer and more centered, and, so far, has never led me to feel anxious or worried.

    If you set a bunch of resolutions at the start of the year and are finding it hard to stick with them, maybe this is the perfect time to shift your focus from what you want in the future to what you need right now.

  • How Observing My Emotions Helps Me Let Go of Anger and Anxiety

    How Observing My Emotions Helps Me Let Go of Anger and Anxiety

    “Even when in the midst of disturbance, the stillness of the mind can offer sanctuary.” ~Stephen Richards

    One night my four-year-old daughter woke up crying, startling both me and my husband from sleep. He rushed into her room and I came in shortly thereafter, and I immediately got annoyed with how he was handling the situation. I’ll admit this now: I can’t even remember what he did, but in that moment I knew I would have done it differently and it made me feel irritable and angry.

    I left the room and went into the bathroom. While I sat there, I remembered something I’d heard to do in order to become a calmer, more mindful person: Observe myself and describe my emotions and what was going on in my body as if I was telling a doctor about medical symptoms.

    I simply noticed what was going on inside me as if I was another person watching myself and ran through what was happening. I described how I felt agitated and how my stomach felt knotty. I described how the anger felt hot and prickly and how it was consuming my chest.

    Then the most amazing thing happened: My anger completely vanished.

    I was astonished. Usually I can talk myself out of negative or overwhelming emotions with some time and patience by coming up with new thoughts or convincing myself to simply let go. But this, this was something different. It happened so quickly and easily.

    I was really struck by this experience, and a week or two later I tried doing something similar while I was meditating before bed one evening. That night I felt stressed out and sad, and I could feel how I was carrying a frown around with me, and a feeling of heaviness.

    During my meditation, I kept pulling myself back to the present moment and noticing how and where I was carrying those feelings. I didn’t judge them or try to change them; I just observed them. Within a few moments a strong feeling overcame me. I can only describe it as a wave of knowing that told me “those feelings are not you.”

    It was so soothing. I felt how I was the observer, and although my sad and anxious feelings were certainly a real part of my human experience, I saw that I didn’t have to become engulfed by them. I didn’t have to let them rule me or my life.

    I’m a person with a lot of emotions. I tend toward anxiety and sadness, though I certainly have some anger, or at least irritation, thrown in there for good measure. Being able to separate myself from these emotions has been so freeing.

    I’m not saying that emotions aren’t valid, or that we shouldn’t have feelings about things that happen in our lives. I do believe, though, we can move forward in the most helpful and joyful way possible if we take the time to observe those feelings and get some distance from them.

    If I’d stayed mad and acted out at my husband that night, over something so inconsequential that I can’t even remember the details of it now, a month or two later, would that have been the best outcome for me? I don’t believe so; middle of the night arguments never end well.

    I think noticing and describing emotions allows for the best outcome. If you’ve been mistreated by someone, by all means, allow yourself that anger and frustration. From there, though, step back. Take a look at what you’re saying to yourself and where that frustration lives.

    Once you’ve done that and given yourself some distance, then make your next move. Making a decision from a place of stillness and reflection can only make your life better.

    This is a practice that, well, takes practice. I have to remind myself to do it, and frankly, sometimes I don’t want to. A stubborn, bratty part of myself yells something along the lines of “I want to stay mad!”

    It’s worth it though, at least to me, and I’m incorporating it into my life more and more. I’m finding myself a calmer and more centered person, and that’s something I’ve wanted for a long time. Here’s everything that’s been working for me and how it can work for you, too.

    Get comfortable with the idea that you’re an observer. The older I get, the more I realize how much of what I do is just a pattern, a repetition of the ways I’ve done things before. That has allowed me to identify less with what my mind is telling me and to give myself permission to simply observe what’s happening instead of taking it all so seriously.

    Avoid judging yourself and your emotions. Just this morning I started getting worried about the sadness my daughter was expressing about going back to preschool after a break for vacation. I started getting frustrated at myself for getting sucked into my feelings and not doing better, but in that moment I realized I needed to let go of criticizing myself and instead just observe. And, as usual, it helped.

    Give yourself the time and space to practice. This is not what we’ve been taught to do. At all. We’ve been taught to try to control our emotions, we’ve been taught to express emotions in healthier ways, we’ve been taught to give in and feel emotions. The idea of observing our emotions? I didn’t hear of that until I was thirty-seven years old.

    Try to see your emotions as separate from the real you. I believe that at our core we’re compassionate and loving beings. The stories our minds tell us—about how we’ve been wronged or how things should be different—are just that: stories.

    Let yourself observe what the mind is telling you. Let yourself observe how those stories are causing you to feel. Take the time to really describe, in vivid detail, what you’re telling yourself and what you’re feeling physically. Are your shoulders up to your ears? Is your chest tight? Are your firsts clenched? What’s your face doing? Do you feel hot? Do you feel like you’re in slow motion? Describe it all.

    When you take the time to do that, you’re taking the time to see that those feelings, those emotions are separate from you. You’re the loving being who is observing them. You’re the one with the power to let them go.

    Just try it. Taking the time to increase my awareness and observe myself has improved my life in just a short time, and I think it can make anyone’s life more peaceful.

  • Trust Your Intuition: If It Feels Like a No, It’s a No

    Trust Your Intuition: If It Feels Like a No, It’s a No

    “You will never follow your own inner voice until you clear up the doubts in your mind.” ~Roy T. Bennett

    One evening my husband and I decided that we, along with our daughter, would go together to a neighboring town about thirty minutes away the following morning. He had an errand to run, and I was going to take our daughter to a nearby playground.

    The morning arrived, and as I thought about it, I had a wave of feeling/thought that said, “I don’t really want to go,” or maybe it was more like, “I’d rather just stay around here because that would be more fun.” All I can say is that there was an inner nudge that told me not going would lead to a happier outcome.

    Instead of going with my gut, though, I asked my daughter if she wanted to go to the playground, and when she said yes, I let that change my mind. (She’s four! Of course she wants to go to the playground!)

    We piled into the car and headed to the highway. Before you get any ideas about this being a horror story about a car accident or other life-altering incident, let me assure you that nothing terrible happened. Just something that showed me I need to keep up my practice of listening to that inner voice we all have.

    We dropped my husband off and went to the playground. It was fine, I guess, but sort of frustrating: My daughter played for maybe five minutes before asking to go to the bathroom. After that, she said she was ready to leave the playground and have a snack in the car. It had been all of fifteen minutes.

    We got back in the car and drove to the spot where my husband was. After fifteen or twenty minutes of us waiting for him in the car, he came out, kind of a in a grumpy mood, and we debated who would drive back home.

    I have a story about not wanting to drive when my husband is in the car. I tell myself he makes me self-conscious and I’d rather just have him drive. I was already in the driver’s seat, though, and he didn’t seem to care either way, so I stayed where I was.

    As soon as I started backing out of the parking lot he told me to watch out. He was worried about me hitting someone. I got annoyed, but kept going.

    When we got to the road, I had to make a tricky left turn. It’s a spot where people are coming from all directions, and there happened to be a police officer waiting to pull out across the way from us.

    I was about to go, but a car came quickly around the bend. I felt like I was out too far and started to back up a little, then my husband said, “What are you doing!?” That did not go over well with me.

    I got a little hysterical, feeling trapped. I couldn’t make the turn, I couldn’t back up, and my husband refused to switch places with me because he thought the police officer across the way would be suspicious.

    I ended up yelling and freaking out, even dropping an f-bomb, which is so not the way I want to act, ever, but especially not in front of my kid.

    I finally made the turn, then got off the next exit and asked my husband to drive. Sitting in the passenger seat it hit me: My inner voice said I’d probably have more fun staying close to home, and I realized it was almost certainly right.

    The trip to the playground was a bust, my daughter and I had to spend a bunch of time in the car (half an hour both ways plus the time waiting for my husband) to do basically nothing, and my husband and I ended up having a bit of a blowout.

    I couldn’t have predicted how the day would go, but I knew in the morning I felt like taking it easy, and instead, I put myself in situations that had the potential to be stressful.

    It’s not that anything awful or life-altering happened; it was just a clear example of how going against what felt right, what felt like the most fun, ended up being not the best choice for me. And I was particularly annoyed because I’ve been dedicating time and attention lately to listening to my intuition.

    Overall, though, I have been getting better at tuning in and heeding the advice of my inner guidance. Here’s what I’ve done over the years to get better at it.

    I regularly check in with my body.

    My body is so much smarter than I am. She knows when she’s had enough to eat and she knows when a situation isn’t the right one for me. Experiences that don’t align with my innermost desires result in me having a tight feeling in my chest or a churning feeling in my stomach, and if things go on long enough, I’ve been known to manifest physical symptoms that send me to the doctor.

    I once ignored my intuition about taking a job. I only lasted there a year, and I was sick constantly. It’s rare for me to get sick at all, so this was just a confirmation of what I’d worried about from the beginning. The body knows, even when the mind isn’t willing to acknowledge it yet.

    I started looking at what made me feel light and happy.

    Like the body, emotions are an incredible guide for showing us where to turn next. If something makes you feel alive and excited, then go in that direction! If something makes you feel low-energy and sad, it’s time to change course.

    I look for the next right step instead of trying to figure out a thirty-year plan.

    Our minds want to have all of the answers right now, period. If you feel excited about a new and completely different career path but your mind can’t figure out how it can earn you a living, you may shut it down completely, ignoring your intuition and probably squelching your happiness.

    These days, I just try to figure out the next right step, the one for this moment, rather than trying to see how it will play out when I’m eighty. Sometimes the next right step is for me to go to sleep instead of thinking about it anymore!

    If I’m frazzled and worrying about a million things that are work or business related, I slow myself down and ask what has to be done right now. The answer is usually something simple, like answer this email or take a break for lunch and come back when I feel refreshed. If you take it moment by moment, it truly slows things down and simplifies them.

    I do the thing that makes me feel good whenever possible.

    It might seem counterintuitive, but it’s often much easier to get done what you need to when you follow the path of what feels best. For instance, one evening I needed to write a blog post, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

    Instead of forcing myself to do it, I made some art and watched some TV. After maybe an hour I felt jazzed up and good, and it was incredibly easy (and fast!) to write the blog post.

    I ask questions with the intention of getting an answer.

    Instead of walking around all day thinking “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do,” I now make a point of asking, either in writing or in my head, “What’s the best thing for me?” It takes practice, but you’ll get answers, even if they’re subtle.

    I can hear you wondering, “What am I supposed to do when I have to do something, but my intuition says it’s a no-go?”

    I’m the mom of a young kiddo, and even though I don’t always feel like getting up with her at the crack of dawn, or peeling the skin off her apple, or watching that episode of a cheesy cartoon with her one more time, I usually still do it.

    Time with her at this age (and in general) is fleeting, and to combat the feeling of obligation I remind myself that I chose this life. I also check in to see what I can do in any given moment to make sure I’m getting some feel-good time for myself. I think it’s important for her to see me enjoying my life and making choices that support my well-being.

    I know there are lots and lots of obligations we feel tied to, but I believe if your intuition is telling you over and over again that this is not right for you, you must start to listen and let it go.

    Perhaps you feel you can’t give up this obligation right this second, but how can you move away from it? How can you take on more of what feels joyful and right for you and less of what feels burdensome and heavy? Just do it a little at a time, if that’s what feels best.

    I’m really passionate about this subject, and it’s because I have seen how much my life has improved by going with my gut. I’ve also seen what happens when I don’t, even if it’s minor like the incident I described.

    When I see and hear other people struggling with decisions or doing something big (like getting married!) even when it doesn’t feel quite right, I want to reach out and hug them and tell them that going with their intuition will always pay off in the end, even if it doesn’t seem to make sense in the moment.

    You already know the answer; you just have to listen.

  • Someday This Will Be Funny

    Someday This Will Be Funny

    “A great attitude becomes a great mood. A great mood becomes a great day. A great day becomes a great year. A great year becomes a great life.” ~Unknown

    I was already in a terrible mood by the time we arrived at the hotel around 7:30pm. It was Thanksgiving, and my family and I had spent four hours in the car in order to visit out-of-town family. My daughter had an accident in car seat on the way out there, and my husband and I were both battling colds. Oh, and it was my birthday.

    We’d spent the afternoon with my husband’s family, and had enjoyed the meal and the visit, but left on the early side to give ourselves time to get to the hotel before our three-year-old daughter could get overtired.

    We’d stayed at this hotel before; it offered a suite at a reasonable rate, which allowed our daughter to go to bed at her normal bedtime and for us to be in a separate room and be able to stay up until our own normal bedtime. I’d called months in advance to book a room, as soon as we knew we’d be making the trip to Raleigh, as I wanted to have that box checked off in my mind.

    In other words: I thought the hotel would be no problem.

    Unfortunately, it didn’t go as smoothly as I’d imagined. The person at the desk was new, and I had difficulty figuring out what he was trying to tell me; I just understood something was wrong. Finally he said it: We overbooked the suites and you’ll all have to be in one room together.

    One room together? On my birthday, when I have a cold and am exhausted and frustrated and grumpy? I have to go to bed before 8pm? With no chance to talk to my husband or read a book?

    Yup.

    I didn’t find this acceptable, and the front desk clerk half-heartedly called around to see if any other hotels were available, and I did the same. Being a holiday, though, there was nothing. Meanwhile, my daughter was getting more and more irritable and tired, actually asking when we could go upstairs and go to bed.

    My mood got worse and worse, and I’m not proud of the way I behaved. I was surly to the hotel employee, something I try to never, ever do after my own years in the hospitality industry. I was rude, unpleasant, and downright mean.

    It changed nothing. Well, we did get a discount on the room, but we probably would have gotten that either way. I felt terrible.

    We went upstairs, rushed to get unpacked and settled, me grumbling and agitated the whole time, then put our daughter to bed. She passed out instantly, out so cold that my husband and I were able to whisper in the dark for more than an hour, which was actually kind of fun.

    At some point during our talk in the dark, I realized this moment, this experience, this exact second, was an opportunity to stop and ask myself how I wanted to feel and behave.

    I told myself something that shifted my attitude in just one moment: “Someday this will be funny.”

    I felt an enormous energy shift and actually began to smile. My mood was completely changed.

    I saw that not having the right hotel room was so, so not a big deal. Yeah, it was an inconvenience, but it wasn’t worth being so upset over.

    And having a minor cold? And spending a lot of the day in the car? Also not big things to worry about.

    All of this happening on my birthday? It’s not like it was my sweet sixteen or the big four-oh. It was just not worth getting upset over.

    I wish I could let you feel the way I felt in that hotel room, because the shift happened so quickly and so completely. One minute I was stewing over everything that had happened in the past hour, getting more and more upset, and the next I felt complete and utter peace and relief.

    Looking back, I can also see that there was so much space for gratitude and appreciation, and not just because it was Thanksgiving.

    My family could not only afford to stay in a hotel, but we could afford to switch to a more expensive one the next night (one with a suite!). We have family to celebrate the holidays with. We have an awesome, reliable, and safe car to get us to wear we need to go.

    Appreciation is such a beautiful thing, and it goes hand in hand with shifting negative thoughts to more positive ones. Once you start looking around for things to appreciate, letting go of anger and frustration is much easier.

    This experience was really powerful and important to me, so I wanted to share what I’ve done differently since then. Perhaps these tips will help you improve your mood when dealing with inconveniences that aren’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

    Use the power of words to bring yourself back down to a calm place.

    I’ve started saying “someday this will be funny” whenever I can, because it brings me back to that hotel room and the way it shifted my mood. I also regularly ask myself if whatever is happening will matter tomorrow, or in a week, or in a month. Those all help me put things in perspective.

    Remind yourself things will turn out fine.

    Depending on your belief system, you may even take the long view and know that your spirit is completely safe and protected regardless of what happens in this life. If that doesn’t do it for you, simply ask yourself if this incident will even matter in a week or a month; often you’ll see that this isn’t going to have much of an impact on your life or well-being.

    Remember THIS IS IT.

    This thing that’s happening right now, even as you read this article, is your life. If you spend it going from sour mood to sour mood, your life is going to turn out pretty sour. You are the only one who has the power to change that.

    Think of the Chinese parable that teaches there is no good or bad.

    I’ve heard a few different versions of it, but the gist is that no matter what comes our way, it can be good or bad, who’s to say? Something may seem bad on its face, like losing a job, but it may bring something wonderful, like a new career you’re more passionate about.

    Use every possible opportunity to take a few deep breaths and reset.

    I know I get stuck in patterns, and feeling sorry for myself is one of them. I have to really, really work to notice when I’m getting sucked down into bad feelings and take the time to shift my perspective, so do it every single time you think of it.

    Remind yourself that like attracts like.

    You’ve probably noticed that when you’re in a bad mood and acting grouchy or defensive, other people react to you with that same energy, which doesn’t feel good and can put you in an even worse mood. You’re also more likely to notice negative things happening all around you when that’s what you’re focused on. Likewise, when you’re noticing the good stuff, you’re calmer and happier, and people you encounter reflect that back to you, too.

    This incident happened more than six months ago, but it’s stuck with me. You and I both get to decide how we will react in any given moment, in any given situation. Let’s take a collective deep breath and try to laugh.

  • How I Stopped Feeling Trapped in a Life I Didn’t Want

    How I Stopped Feeling Trapped in a Life I Didn’t Want

    “Stop thinking in terms of limitations and start thinking in terms of possibilities.” ~Terry Josephson

    When I was in my early twenties I was lucky enough to spend about a year living just a few blocks from the beach in Virginia Beach, Virginia, but you know what I remember most distinctly from that time? Sitting at a red light on the way to work one day thinking: I feel trapped.

    To put it simply, I felt stuck in a life I didn’t want.

    I had a college degree I wasn’t using. I had a job that I dreaded. I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, and I certainly had no idea how to get to the next thing, whatever that was.

    By the end of that year, I’d managed to move away from Virginia and was living back in Vermont, a place I’d originally landed at for a few months right after I finished college. The trapped feeling was gone, at least for a little while.

    I was able to go from seasonal job to part-time job and back again for about a year, and that helped me feel not quite so tied down. Eventually I left Vermont and moved to the mountains of North Carolina.

    Over the years, that trapped feeling wrapped its tendrils around my chest and squeezed a number of times, but recently I realized I haven’t felt that way in quite a while.

    What was it that made me feel so trapped in the past? Why haven’t I been feeling that way anymore? For me, I think it comes down to career and identity. I spent much of my life wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up, and went from job to job, often ending up feeling like I was caged in.

    I had a job working at an inn that I really loved. Sometimes I was bored, but mostly I felt at least a little freedom, especially once I was the boss and could make my own schedule.

    After a few years of that, I took a job at an airport that was such an awful fit I can’t even put it into words. I was bored, lonely, and anxious, and caught more colds than I ever have in my life.

    There was some good in that job, though, in that I started expressing my creative side again, something that had been dormant for a long time. Being miserable also forced me to take a look at the choices I was making in my life and career.

    I had other boring jobs after that one, and then one really terrible one that went against just about every moral fiber in my body. The owners made their politics very clear and they were the polar opposite of mine. I was expected to be on call almost all the time; if my work phone rang when I was at home, fear filled my heart.

    Once again, I felt trapped.

    It was worse than ever at this job because I was the sole breadwinner while my husband was in school. I knew it was a terrible fit, but I felt I couldn’t leave.

    Looking back, though, while all of that was going on, I was refining and honing what it was I truly wanted and who I truly was.

    I read a zillion self-help and career books. I took a life coach training program. I started meditating.

    Most importantly, I started listening to myself. Or maybe I should say my Self.

    I started following the things that felt true to me. Being inside an office all day simply was not working, and I wanted to work for myself, not for someone else.

    I needed to be creative. I needed to be able to go outside in the middle of the day. I needed freedom.

    I left that last terrible job nearly four years ago, and visits from those tendrils of terror don’t come very often anymore, despite the fact that I’m much more tied down than I ever have been before (hello mortgage, car payment, husband, two cats, and child).

    The bottom line is that I finally feel like I’m living my life instead of someone else’s.

    I do hold a job again, but it’s super flexible, doing something I mostly enjoy. I create art almost every day, and both the process of putting colors to canvas and earning money from something I enjoy so much bring me big feelings of freedom.

    I also get to be outside in the middle of the day, which brings me more happiness than I ever could have imagined. I get to set big goals and move toward them at my own pace. I get to control my life in ways I didn’t before.

    I feel like me, and it feels so good.

    Here are some steps of the steps I took to get from there to here, and that you can try, too, if you feel trapped in your life.

    Listen to your body. This has helped me more times than I can count. If your chest feels tight, if your stomach is in knots, if your shoulders are up to your neck, or if you feel just plain off, you need to stop and listen to what your body is telling you.

    Your body is the animal part of you, in touch with your deepest needs and desires. It’s your brain that keeps interfering and telling you the kind of life you “should” be living. Try checking in with your body at least once a day and seeing what makes it feel open and relaxed, then do more of that.

    Know you can make progress even if it doesn’t feel like it. For years and years I tried to get out of that cycle of being stuck in a job I hated, trying to do something new but then realizing it wasn’t the right fit, and then starting the whole thing over again. It’s only looking back now that I see I was getting closer and closer and learning more and more each time I did something different—I just didn’t see it at the time.

    Take the tiniest steps possible. When I was in that job that I really hated, it would have created more stress and anxiety in my life if I’d quit, since I was the one bringing in the money and because, about a year after I started the job, I got pregnant and needed the health insurance. So I took tiny steps while I was there: I made art on the weekends, I took an online class about building my own business, I went outside and walked by the ocean a lot.

    If you do anything, and I mean anything at all, that moves you closer to a place of peace or excitement, please give yourself a pat on the back. There is nothing wrong with congratulating yourself and telling yourself what a good job you’re doing. It will keep you moving forward and help you build momentum.

    Look for the positive. There is something good in all of our experiences if we take the time to look for it. That job was a positive for me because I could support our family while I was there, and because I learned what I didn’t want in a job.

    I feel the same about all of my jobs and even all of my past relationships. Even if it wasn’t the right fit, I learned something about myself and what I did or didn’t want out of a job or a partner.

    Every time you experience something, you can learn from it and use it to move away from what you don’t want and toward what you do want. Focus on the good you’re finding, and more good comes. Focus on the bad you’re feeling, and the more you’ll feel bad.

    Learn to live with uncertainty. You just can’t know everything, and that’s okay. I got a life coaching certification, personal training certification, and master’s degree in health education before I realized that none of that would help me feel free. Until I found it, I didn’t know what would give me that feeling, and I was (mostly) okay with that. I was trying new things, seeing what felt right.

    You don’t need to know exactly what’s going to happen to know you’re on the right path. So long as you’re taking chances and learning about yourself, you are.

    Lastly, don’t discount little things that make you happy. I used to think that art was just something that I did when I was a kid that couldn’t amount to much, and the pleasure it brings to me in my adult life, both on a personal and professional level, is tremendous.

    If it feels good, go toward it. If it feels bad, move away from it, even if you have to do it slowly.

    You don’t have to feel trapped in a life you don’t want forever. You can make changes, even tiny incremental ones, and get into a life that feels just right for you.

  • How to Let Go When You’re Dwelling on Negative Thoughts

    How to Let Go When You’re Dwelling on Negative Thoughts

    “There is nothing more important to true growth than realizing that you are not the voice of the mind—you are the one who hears it.” ~Michael Singer

    My husband and I recently moved into a new home. Shortly after we moved in, I left a wooden cutting board in the sink, where it was submerged in water.

    My husband told me, in a tentative voice, that he didn’t want to upset me, but I really shouldn’t leave the cutting board in the water like that, because it would get warped and destroyed.

    In case you couldn’t tell, my husband was actually nervous to tell me he wanted me to do something differently.

    Sure, in this case I didn’t take any offense to his comment—why should I, really? But the disappointing truth is that I often react by becoming sullen and moody and sometimes even defensive and argumentative.

    Luckily, shortly before this conversation I’d been listening to a podcast the subject of letting go, about how our minds are not our souls; they’re our psyches.

    In other words, I was in a pretty peaceful place, easily able to see how any thoughts about how he was wrong or he shouldn’t have said that to me or that I was a horrible person for leaving a cutting board in the sink were very, very easy to let go of.

    It felt great. I didn’t get upset, I didn’t say anything mean; I just said no problem and moved on. Not just on the outside, but on the inside, too.

    It’s still not always that way for me, though.

    In fact, a very recent interaction with my husband was a different story entirely. I’d gone to the store for a few last minute things before Thanksgiving, and when I came home my husband could see that I had purchased a tube of toothpaste—the wrong kind.

    As soon as I walked through the door he said, “Crest? Why did you get Crest? We always get Colgate!” And, at least from my perspective, he didn’t say it in all that friendly of a tone.

    I immediately got defensive and took on his tone and told him he didn’t have to use it if he didn’t want to, then I went into the kitchen and went back and forth between seething and hating myself.

    Luckily, somewhere in that process, I was able to, just for a moment, name what was going on inside my body and mind instead of being completely sucked into it.

    I said to myself, as though I was describing symptoms to a doctor, what was going on. “I feel all jumbled up in my chest, and my stomach feels nervous. I notice that I am feeling really bad about something small, and I’m really, really blowing it out of proportion.”

    To be upset about something so insignificant is probably indicative of a larger problem, of course; in this case, the fact that I was stressed about holiday prep and my upcoming birthday and, well the list could have gone on, I’m sure.

    Still, this is an absolutely perfect example of how the smallest things can unhinge us, even when we’re walking a spiritual path or doing our best to improve ourselves and our lives.

    I know I’m not alone. I see it in my husband, I see it in co-workers and friends.

    We’re so busy trying to be right, trying to keep our egos and sense of self safe, that we don’t let things go. We let thoughts take over our hearts and minds, and often ruin relationships in the process.

    I feel so frustrated at myself when I look back at all the times I’ve not been able to let things go and have reacted negatively, but that doesn’t help me move forward, either.

    How can I consistently be calm? How can I consistently let go of the things, both big and small, that cause so much internal turmoil?

    Always, always return to the stillness inside me, for one. I know it’s there, I’ve felt it. I’m just better at accessing it sometimes more than others.

    That stillness is the place from which I believe our true selves speak, and that true self is not concerned with small things, or worried about keeping our egos afloat.

    I know taking three deep breaths helps me do it. I know simply telling myself that “these thoughts are not me” helps me do it.

    Besides accessing the stillness, naming what I’m feeling, as I mentioned earlier, really helps. It puts a distance between me and the thoughts pulsing through my head, again helping me to remember that I am not my thoughts.

    Acknowledging that I’m spiraling or feeling sorry for myself helps, too. I think it’s something about knocking back that part of me that always has to be right and telling it I see it and I want it to go away.

    Another way to let go is to ask myself if this will matter in an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year. Usually it won’t matter, and that, too, allows me to give myself some space to move on.

    I know there are certain things in life that do need to be dealt with, that are bigger than a tussle over toothpaste. I still think those are best dealt with by first letting go of that negative, insistent voice, though.

    I think back to when I was in my early twenties and a job I was supposed to have was given to a guy who’d recently returned to the inn where I worked, even though he’d abruptly disappeared for another job and left the inn owner in a bind.

    I was so mad, so angry, that I stormed out, packed all of my stuff (I lived on premises), went back to the office, quit, and then drove away.

    I’m not saying quitting wasn’t the right option for me, because it probably was. The owner of the inn was new to the game and extraordinarily disorganized, and I probably would have been miserable for the whole winter.

    Still, there was a better, calmer way to handle things that would have left me feeling more balanced and sure about myself and my decisions.

    If I could go back fifteen years, I think I’d tell myself to take a few deep breaths. To be still. I wasn’t meditating yet, or even aware that I was in charge of my thoughts, but I would tell that younger woman to find her center and go from there.

    I’m genuinely tired of letting my mind run my life. I want to let go, to let decisions come from the deepest part of myself. I think by remembering to find the stillness and let the negative thoughts pass by, and to find any way possible to separate myself from them whenever possible, my life will be much closer to peaceful.

  • Honesty Is a Gift, So We Don’t Have to Hide Our True Feelings

    Honesty Is a Gift, So We Don’t Have to Hide Our True Feelings

    “Never apologize for showing feelings. When you do so, you apologize for the truth.” ~Benjamin Disraeli

    I’ll never forget my progress report from third grade: “Jennifer shows disappointment when she’s not called on.”

    This must have been a bad thing, because my mother sat me down to talk about it. Apparently, when I raised my hand and wasn’t called on, I frowned. I was to work on that, to try to stay neutral, to not show I was upset.

    I also clearly remember the day my dad came over to my mom’s house to tell me his father, my grandfather, had passed away. I was twelve, and I started crying. My father told me to stop crying because it was going to make him cry.

    Once again, I felt as if I was being scolded for having feelings and showing them.

    Years later, when I was very stressed out at a high-pressure job, I was crying in my own private office. The CEO of the tiny company walked by and then came in to talk to me for a few minutes, then left.

    The next time I had a performance review, I was told, in not so many words, that crying was not allowed. If I had emotions to express, I should go outside and walk around the building until I felt better.

    All of these incidents made me feel embarrassed and ashamed. I shouldn’t show my emotions of disappointment or sadness. I shouldn’t allow myself to feel stressed out, especially if it meant shedding tears.

    These experiences seemed to be the world showing me that it was my job to stay still and quiet, and that I should smile even when I didn’t want to, and that I should prevent my messy emotions from ever impacting anyone else.

    The trouble was, and is, that I have a terrible time hiding my emotions. I’m an emotional person, and if I’m sad or overcome with emotion, I cry. If I’m disappointed, I frown. If I’m happy, I smile or laugh.

    Still, I’ve gotten good at trying to moderate my emotions, especially in social or work situations, in order to present myself a certain way. A way that does not allow me to be my true self.

    Luckily, though, something happened that made me realize that trying to mask my emotions was ultimately taking me out of alignment and out of touch with everything I’m here to learn and experience.

    One day, I heard the author and spiritual teacher Martha Beck talking about her “integrity cleanse,” and something clicked in me.

    She said that a couple of years ago she started attempting to live in complete integrity—always telling the truth (in a kind way, of course)—and that it has changed her life in profound ways. She said for her, even if the expression on her face doesn’t match up with how she’s feeling in her body, she’s out of integrity.

    Boom! That’s exactly what I needed to hear.

    I finally realized that showing and expressing my emotions was actually a good thing, probably one of the most important parts of my healing journey and time on this planet.

    Instead of walking through this life pretending I’m okay when really I’m heartbroken, or acting like I’m not offended by a racist joke, or smiling when someone says something that makes upset, I need to honor and express my feelings.

    I’m going to tell you a secret, though: It’s freaking hard. As much as I say I don’t want to hide my true feelings, in many ways it’s a habit.

    Who wants to upset their parent or spouse? Who wants to ruffle feathers at work? Who wants to walk away from a boring conversation and worry about being perceived as rude?

    The thing is, any time we’re hiding our emotions or pretending we do or don’t feel something in order to protect ourselves or someone else, we’re lying. We’re lying to ourselves, and we’re lying to the other person.

    And lying? It’s bad for the body, mind, and spirit. It breaks you down and stresses you out. It causes rifts and gaps in your family and with your friends.

    Here are some things you might want to keep in mind if you decide to allow your true feelings to show no matter who you’re with or what the circumstance.

    Sometimes you’re going to upset people. The thing is, if you always tell the truth, some people are simply not going to like it.

    There are some people in your world who likely want you to stay small, or to stay emotionless. If you are going to start expressing what you feel, know that some people will end up exiting your life.

    You’re not going to be immediately good at this right away, and it’s going to take time to feel comfortable expressing yourself in every situation. I am so, so not there yet. I still find myself smiling politely when really I want to run away, or answering a question in a way that doesn’t feel true to me.

    Yet, in many other ways I’ve created beautiful relationships where I don’t have to say “I’m fine” when they ask me how my day is going. I can tell them the real, scary feelings I’m having.

    I believe the best way to approach this is notice and acknowledge to yourself when you’re denying your emotions, even if you’re not ready to say it out loud. At least you’re telling the truth to yourself, and that’s an incredibly important first step.

    This is going to be very scary. If you’ve been hiding your real self and real emotions for a long time, or if you hide them from a large number of people, this is probably going to be the most frightening thing you ever do.

    Take it slowly. Practice not smiling at that coworker who always insists you smile. Tell him or her “No thanks, not right now.”

    Allow yourself to cry in front of a friend, even if you’re normally too embarrassed to do something like that.

    Let yourself express anger to someone who says something offensive or dishonors you in some way. You can do it.

    If you have kids, start teaching them to express their true emotions as early as possible, as it will make their own emotional lives much easier.

    My daughter is three, and though I sometimes catch myself trying to distract her from negative feelings, she responds so beautifully to me sitting down at her eye level and acknowledging her angry or sad feelings.

    I believe it’s a gift to allow others to feel what they feel, and that it creates honest, open humans.

    Ask for help in being absolutely true to yourself. Ask a friend or your partner to support you in your journey. If it’s in line with your belief system, ask a higher power for help in being open and honest with your feelings.

    Set the intention each morning that you wish to honor your own feelings, emotions, and truth, but that you also wish to do so in the kindest, most loving manner possible.

    You can do this. You deserve to do this, and the people you interact with deserve to know you in your truest form.

    This is not easy, but it does get easier, and I believe it’s the greatest gift we can give to ourselves and each other, even if my third-grade teacher would disagree.

  • Sometimes the Safe Path is Not the Right Path

    Sometimes the Safe Path is Not the Right Path

    “As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.” ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

    When I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist. I loved to draw, especially, and even took art classes on the weekends when I could. For fun.

    Obviously, being an artist isn’t a viable career (or so everyone in my life told me in subtle and not so subtle ways), so instead of going to college to delve deeper into drawing or painting or sculpture, I went the safe route: art teacher.

    Well, after a few semesters I decided I didn’t want to be an art teacher, so I went another safe route: graphic design. Unfortunately, I didn’t enjoy graphic design that much, most of the technical/pre-press stuff was way over my head (and interest level), and I turned down the one full-time job I was offered after college.

    Since I was only twenty-one, adventure seemed appropriate. I moved to Vermont to work at a ski lodge, I drove cross-country, I lived in a tiny apartment in Montana, and then I lived in a tent for a while. It was awesome.

    After that I went back to the safe stuff. I worked in an office here, I worked as an event coordinator there, then back to another office job.

    I don’t want to make it seem like I’ve always just automatically chosen the thing that felt the safest, the most conventional, since the travels of my early twenties, because I certainly haven’t.

    I quit a “good” job because it made me miserable and I wanted to get trained as a life coach.

    I quit another well-paying job (that made me absolutely batty and went against all of my core beliefs) in order to stay home with my daughter, even though it seemed like there was no way to afford to do so. (We made it work.)

    I started making art again, with real gusto and zeal, even though it doesn’t really make any sense beyond my own deep desire to do so.

    Recently, though, I faced what feels like my biggest What-My-Heart-Wants Vs. Take-the-Safe-Path challenge ever.

    After going in circles and wondering if I should bother trying to make art my main “thing,” I decided that I should apply to graduate school to become a school counselor. Because you can’t make a living as an artist, as you’ll remember.

    Counseling has always interested me, I like kids, and I would have the summers off to do the thing I really like, which is, well, you already know this: art.

    I spent a while researching the career and working on convincing myself I’d be able to find a job and that it would be the right fit for me. I applied about six months before applications were due and then pretty much forgot about it.

    That is, until the deadline rolled around. I knew I’d hear something shortly after February 1st, and then there it was, an email inviting me to a four-hour group interview.

    I can sum up the way I felt about going to this interview with one word: Ugh. I texted a friend and told her if someone else was in my position and felt the sucking feeling I was having, I’d tell them not to go.

    I kept thinking, though, that I should go, “just to keep my options open.” You know, to be safe.

    Before I went, I hooked up with a coach to talk me through some of what was going on in my head. What stands out to me the most about our sixty-minute conversation is that I said going to school felt like the safe option.

    When she asked me what really, truly felt safe to me, in my soul, I said I felt the safest when I was in my living room, art supplies set up, light flowing through the windows, creating something.

    Still, though, I went to the group interview. I was surprised by it; I enjoyed meeting the current students, the professors seemed lovely, and I was impressed with the program.

    I also learned how competitive the program was—of the eighty something people there, only about thirty would get in. I didn’t think I had a chance.

    I was wrong about that. In fact, I was included in the first round of applicants; a top pick. That made me, or at least my ego, feel really good.

    My husband was out of town for work at the time, and we agreed to discuss it when he got back. After a lot of back and forth, I decided to accept.

    I mean, I’d be taking on probably $18,000 in debt, but I’d have an almost guaranteed job when I finished! And I’d have a state pension! And I’d have summers off!

    The other thing? Multiple people who have known me for a very long time told me what a great fit school counseling was for me. I used other people’s excitement about it to continue to believe that this was the right thing to do.

    But then some weird stuff started happening. Conversations with my husband would often end with him saying, completely unprompted, “I wish you didn’t have to go to school.” Spiritual teachers who mean a lot to me started popping up on my Facebook or Podcast feed telling me things that I needed to know, like how to really follow my soul’s calling.

    I felt like the Universe was trying to tell me that going to school was not right for me, despite seeming like the safe option. I understood that if I went, I’d be giving up what I had dreamed for myself and even my family, and that I’d be one step farther away from listening to my true self.

    So I decided to withdraw.

    I knew I wanted out, but every time I went to send that official email, I got scared. I kept thinking about what I’d be giving up (Stability! A pension! A “real” job!).

    Finally, after a month, I did it. I sent the email from my phone while I was sitting on the floor in the living room, light pouring in the windows, a painting I was working on in front of me. I did it before I could think too hard about it.

    Since then I’ve felt a variety of things. Sometimes fear, sometimes joy, sometimes worry, sometimes nothing much.

    I wish I could tell you that in the month since I withdrew I’ve become a beloved artist who makes money constantly. I wish I could tell you that everything is working out perfectly. So far, though, I’m just practicing going toward what feels good and away from what feels bad.

    I have faith now, faith that I’m following the right path for me. That picking something because it looks good on paper is absolutely not a reason to do something, even if other people tell you it is.

    When I look back on this journey, what I see is a woman who wants what’s best for herself and her family, so is following the steps that she thinks will bring her what everyone else will see as success, and I can’t say I blame her. I’m just glad she changed her mind.

    I want everyone to know that the safe path isn’t always safe, and it isn’t always right, and that only you know what’s the next step, but only if you listen closely. Here are some ideas for tuning in.

    1. Listen to your body.

    I just can’t understate the importance of this one. I’ve known for a long time that bodies are way better guides than minds, but sometimes I lose track of it.

    I knew, for sure, that school was wrong for me because every single time I thought about starting in the fall my body, especially my chest, clenched into a tight ball. A message like that is the body saying loud and clear “wrong direction.”

    2. Stop listening to your thoughts.

    Just as you want to start listening to your body, you want to stop listening to your mind and your thoughts.

    I know, it seems weird, because our brains are supposed to be all rational and smart and stuff, but so much of what goes on up there is completely based on fear. We worry about money, we worry what our family will think, we worry about dying alone. Those fears are just words, and if you let them lead you away from what you truly want, you’re going to be in trouble.

    3. Do it a little at a time.

    If you’re enmeshed in a career or relationship or financial situation that’s been going on for years and years and you have tons of people relying on you, it probably doesn’t feel so easy to just say, “Eh, I don’t want to do this anymore.”

    That’s why you do one small thing at a time. If your body is giving you ulcers because you hate your job so much, but it feels like a fluttering butterfly when you think of taking a photography class, take the photography class. Try one small thing at a time, building toward the life that you really want.

    4. Never buy into the idea that the safe way is the right way.

    If you find yourself thinking anything along the lines of, “Well, that’s boring, but it’s a smart career to get into” or “He’s from a prominent family and would be a smart choice,” run! Or at the very least, slow down and check to see what your body and heart are telling you.

    I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again: This whole being human thing is hard. I believe that it can be delightful and joyful and wonderful, but it takes work.

    We have to push against societal norms that tell us we should do things a certain way. We have to get clear on what we want and be willing to pivot when that changes. We have to be flexible; we have to be aware.

    My goal is to choose what feels good for me. I hope that you’ll do your best to choose what feels right for you, too, even if it’s not what other people think is safe.

  • The Power of “No”: Better Boundaries Lead to a Better Life

    The Power of “No”: Better Boundaries Lead to a Better Life

    Just Say No

    “’No’ is a complete sentence.” ~Anne Lamott

    When I went to counseling for the first time, my therapist told me I needed better boundaries. I had no idea what he was talking about, and although the book he lent me on the subject helped a little, I still didn’t really get it.

    I tried here and there to integrate the few concepts I’d picked up from the book into my life, but mostly I stayed away from anything that could be considered boundary setting, as I still couldn’t quite figure out what it meant.

    A decade after my first introduction to the concept, though, two life coaches I admire happened to be teaching a free class on the subject, and I jumped at the chance to take my learning to the next level.

    After hearing what they had to say, things finally started to click. I began to understand that it wasn’t about trying to control someone else’s actions, but rather about being clear on what action I would take if and when my boundaries were crossed.

    Still, it was hard for me to set boundaries, because I felt very uncertain of myself and my worth. Was it okay to tell someone no? Or that I wasn’t satisfied with the way things were?

    Since the world works in mysterious ways, chances to test my boundaries continue appearing in my life whether I want them to or not.

    Most recently, it came up with my child, an area where I’d never realized boundaries would be necessary (silly, but true).

    My mother and I were out to lunch with my toddler, and I spent most of the wait for our food walking around bouncing my daughter, trying to keep her entertained. After the food came I was barely able to eat, because my little girl wanted to be held and would not stay in her high chair.

    After that experience, my mom sent me an email. She thought I needed to start setting some gentle boundaries with my daughter, and was buying me a book that she thought would help. I burst out crying because I knew she was right.

    As soon and I started reading the book, I finally got it. Everything that I’d been trying to understand about boundaries for the last fifteen years finally made sense, and I finally started believing it was okay for me to get my needs met, and that it was totally acceptable to say no sometimes.

    This change with my daughter has come more easily than I imagined, and, thankfully, it’s starting to impact how I interact with adults, too.

    I have a feeling I’m going to need another fifteen years to become an expert at setting boundaries, but here are some things I’ve learned so far.

    1. Most of us are socialized to actively not have boundaries.

    We’re taught that we shouldn’t say no, and that it would be impolite to ignore another person’s wishes.

    This point was driven home for me the other day when I saw a kid’s TV program that made it clear that even the youngest members of our society are being taught they should always do what other people want.

    In the program, one character (a bear) was watching TV, but then a second character (a little girl) came in and wanted to watch something else. She gave the bear big, sad, puppy dog eyes, and, even though he clearly didn’t want to, he gave up the TV.

    As the girl watched TV, the bear paced back and forth, wishing he was watching his program. He kept hoping she would fall asleep, or go play outside, so he could get back to what he really wanted to be doing.

    This is exactly how we start learning that it’s not okay to say exactly what we want. When we’re young and impressionable, we’re taught that it’s rude to be clear on what we do and do not like.

    2. Not having clear boundaries keeps us in lives that are subpar.

    In my own life not having boundaries has been a huge problem. It’s allowed me to stay in unhealthy relationships (both the romantic kind and the friend kind), made me a doormat, and made me anxious and unhappy.

    Setting a boundary simply means saying no if I don’t want to do something (instead of feeling guilty and obligated). It means telling my husband what I need rather than getting mad when he doesn’t read my mind. It means only working the hours I’ve set for myself rather than running myself ragged trying to do “enough.”

    3. When you refuse to set a boundary, it leads to anger and resentment.

    It can tear relationships apart, keep you in a role at work that doesn’t suit you, and cause you to feel badly about yourself.

    Looking back on a relationship I had in college, I can see how not having boundaries set us up for failure. My boyfriend at the time was involved in a couple of activities that made me very uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t set a boundary with him, so instead I just lashed out with anger and jealousy, which just made things worse.

    The healthiest thing I could have done for myself would have been to say, “I’m not okay with you doing that. If that’s something you’re going to continue doing, I am going to have to remove myself from this relationship.” I was too fearful of the consequences, though, so it took me a long time to end things.

    One caveat when setting boundaries like this: You must be sure you’re not setting a limit in order to control or change someone. You must be truly ready to walk away from the relationship, and you absolutely must be setting the boundary from a place of love and respect for yourself, rather than a place of fear and control toward someone else.

    4. Setting boundaries is going to be uncomfortable sometimes.

    If you always say yes to everything, or let your parents or neighbors come over unannounced even though it really annoys you, or always clean up after your spouse because you don’t want to upset him or her by requesting they clean up after themselves, you’re going to have to take some scary steps to start drawing lines in the sand.

    The uncomfortable feelings don’t mean you shouldn’t follow through with boundary setting, though. In the long run everyone will be happier if you set better boundaries, and if they’re not, it’s really and truly their own issue, not yours.

    5. Boundaries are never about trying to change someone else’s actions or behaviors.

    This one gets kind of tricky for me, but think of it like this: If you’re in the car and someone is speeding, your boundary wouldn’t be “stop driving so fast,” it would be “I am very scared that you’re driving this fast; if you’re not going to slow down, I need you stop and to let me out of the car.”

    You’re not trying to make them stop speeding, you’re telling them you won’t allow yourself to be in the speeding car.

    Boundaries are about getting your needs met, but not by getting someone else to sacrifice their own needs. You have to decide what you really want for your own life, and then go about setting limits that serve these goals.

    Just say no image via Shutterstock

  • When You Want to Judge, Be Curious Instead

    When You Want to Judge, Be Curious Instead

    “Curiosity will conquer fear more than bravery ever will.” ~James Stephens

    Earlier this year I wrote a pretty honest and open article about how I was trying to be less judgmental.

    As with anything new, there’s a learning curve. Letting go of judgments hasn’t become a natural and automatic part of my life quite yet, but a skill I’ve recently learned that’s making a huge, huge difference can be summed up in one word: curiosity.

    Let me explain: I recently finished Brené Brown’s newest book Rising Strong. It’s all about getting up after a hard emotional fall, and what it takes to get through the difficult feelings that come with failure.

    One of the key concepts Brown illustrates is how important curiosity is in this process, and when I read that, something clicked: Curiosity is the key to letting go of judgment, as well!

    I became even more certain of this about a month ago. I had taken my daughter to story time at the library, where there were many other young children with their parents and caretakers. Partway through, my daughter started wandering away from the group, and I stood up to follow her.

    As we left the circle, I noticed one mom, a woman who had two children with her, was not engaged with her kids at all. In fact, she was sitting at a table turned away from the group, playing with her phone.

    I saw this as a perfect opportunity to test out my new theory that curiosity would help me let go of judgment. My old thought would have been “Ugh, look at her! She’s not even paying attention to her kids! What’s so important on her phone that she has to look at it right this second?”

    Thinking that way would have left me feeling annoyed, angry, and a little superior, but definitely not in a good way, so I’m glad I remembered that I wanted to try being curious instead.

    This time, I consciously shifted the direction of my thoughts, trying to be curious about her actions rather than making assumptions about them.

    Could she be waiting for a really important email from a family member or friend?

    Is she using her phone to search for a new job?

    Did she have an incredibly rough morning, and really just needs to zone out for a few minutes while her kids are in a safe environment?

    Is it any of my business if she’s looking at a gossip website or texting her friends rather than being highly engaged with her kids?

    When I did this, I felt so much better. I felt happy and light. I was so thankful that I’d remembered to be curious.

    There’s something so freeing about giving a person the benefit of the doubt and coming up with possible reasons for their behavior that go beyond the obvious. It feels so good to operate this way.

    If you’d like to try, here’s what I’ve discovered so far:

    Always skip over your first reaction and look for something deeper. If someone is tailgating you and you start to feel angry, skip the “That jerk!” response and try imagining what could be going on in their lives.

    Could they be running late for work? Thinking about something else and unaware that they’re so close? Notice how those curious thoughts allow you to simply switch lanes and let them pass, rather than fuming and yelling.

    Put yourself in the other person’s shoes. Maybe a salesperson was short with you, and you started mentally calling them names. Trying putting yourself in their place for a moment.

    Is it possible they’re on their second shift of the day because a coworker called in sick? Or they just found out their kid failed geometry for the third time?

    Your harsh judgments of them won’t help you be compassionate or get better service, so you may as well get curious about what’s going on, which will allow you to be kind and non-judgmental

    Ask questions instead of making automatic statements. Making judgments always involves black and white statements that put you in the right. Shifting to curiosity means shutting off that automatic response and asking thoughtful, insightful questions.

    Even family members and close friends deserve your curiosity and compassion. It’s easiest to practice this new skill on strangers, but once you get the hang of it, remember that being curious rather than judgmental of your friends and family will benefit you both.

    Instead of assuming your sister didn’t call you because she cares about her new boyfriend more than she cares about you, try being curious about what’s really going on. Maybe she’s got too many things on her plate right now and could use some help.

    The bottom line is that judgments are assumptions, not truths.

    They’re about you being right and the other person being wrong. They don’t feel good or serve you. Being curious is kinder and gentler, and creates an environment where it’s clear that we’re all different people, dealing with life as best we can.

    It’s really for you, when it comes down to it. Being judgmental doesn’t feel good, but being curious certainly does.

  • How Expectations Undermine Our Relationships and Happiness

    How Expectations Undermine Our Relationships and Happiness

    “I’m not in this world to live up to your expectations and you’re not in this world to live up to mine.” ~Bruce Lee

    A few years ago, my husband was away from me for a few weeks, working in another town. It was summer, and we were living close to the beach at the time, so I often spent my Saturday nights walking along the ocean at sunset, enjoying the colors and sounds.

    One Saturday night I was in a simply glorious mood. The beach was filled with happy families and couples, the Atlantic was a particularly lovely shade of aquamarine, and life felt just about perfect.

    When I got back to my car I looked at my cell phone and saw that I had missed a call from my husband. I called him back and quickly realized his mood was not nearly as buoyant as my own: He wasn’t particularly chatty, and seemed pretty negative about the work he was doing.

    I took this extremely personally and turned cold and quiet almost immediately, eventually taking the very juvenile step of hanging up on him. How dare he ruin my perfect summer evening!?

    About ten minutes later, in the parking lot of a grocery store, I had a huge epiphany: He hadn’t ruined anything. It was all me, as my negative feelings were entirely created by my expectations of how he should have behaved.

    I had been anticipating that he would be in the same great mood I was, and when he wasn’t, I took it personally. I became upset that he wasn’t acting as I expected. I became angry because he wasn’t meeting the standards I had set.

    In other words, I was completely responsible for my deflated mood.

    This was the very first time I realized how having expectations of how other people should act was causing unnecessary pain and suffering in my life. Once I started looking around, though, I saw many other examples.

    For instance, I once had the expectation that a new acquaintance would quickly respond to my text and agree that she, too, had a nice time hanging out with me.

    When she didn’t, I ended up spending more than twenty-four hours wondering if she liked me, feeling pretty bad about myself. (She did eventually respond with a very nice text; she’s just a busy person who doesn’t respond to texts immediately!)

    I expected an automatic response, and not getting one undermined my happiness.

    Another example is the time I was seventeen and gave my dad a Father’s Day card I thought he’d find really funny, and he barely even responded to it at all.

    I had built up a vision of him having a really warm and amused reception to this card, and when there was almost zero reaction, I was crushed. Again, my expectations, and the beliefs about what it meant if they weren’t met, were causing pain.

    Before you think that I’m suggesting you lower your expectations of other people and never, ask anything of anyone, let me clarify a bit.

    Telling a friend about a tough situation at home and expecting you’ll get some words of wisdom is wonderful. Hoping the guy whose eye you’ve been trying to catch will smile at you today can be fun and rewarding.

    Hoping for the outcome you desire is one thing, trying to force it and being overrun with negative thoughts and feelings when it doesn’t work out is another.

    You can’t control the way people think, feel, or react. Ever. You may try to, you may want to, but ultimately, how they act is up to them.

    And when you base your feelings of happiness, worth, or confidence on the actions or reactions of other people, you’re setting yourself up for many moments (or days or even years) of avoidable misery.

    There are a few ways to keep hoping for positive interactions with other people, but not get sucked down into the mud and muck when they don’t go as you expect.

    1. Stop expecting other people to act exactly as you would like them to—it’s a game you’re guaranteed to lose. Instead, try being open to any and all reactions from others.

    If, on that gorgeous night back in 2012, I had opened my mind and heart to my husband with no preconceived notions of what his mood should be, my evening could have remained joyful and I may have even improved his evening, too.

    Back when I was seventeen, if I had realized that my dad’s lack of reaction had nothing to do with me, but was about his own problems with expressing emotions, I would have felt far less hurt. I couldn’t make him react the way I wanted, and assuming he would do what would make me happy led to a sad experience for me.

    2. Start building up your own happiness and confidence on something you do have power over: your thoughts and beliefs.

    When someone does the unexpected and it disappoints you, it’s always because you had a belief about what they were supposed to do.

    You believe that your mother should have been proud when you won the essay contest, and when she wasn’t, you were sad. If, on the other hand, you lean in to the truth that your mother can react however she wants to, but still believe you are a wonderful writer anyway, your pain won’t be so great.

    You believe your son should have gotten better grades, but when he brings home a poor report card, you feel angry and guilty. When you stop believing that your son’s grades are a reflection on you as a parent, and start believing that you’re doing the best you can and letting go of guilt, you suffer less.

    3. Stay in the moment as often as you can.

    Stay present with your thoughts, and see if you’re holding onto expectations of how other people should behave.

    It’s when you slip out of being in the now that you are truly disappointed. When this happens, you’re letting your thoughts and stories about what the other person should have done, or what will happen now because of this perceived slight, or why you deserve to be angry, take you out of the now and down a path that is full of rejection and fear.

    The bottom line is that you will not find peace if you’re always expecting other people to give it to you with their actions or words or even love. The only way to find it is to drop your expectations of others, let go of what you think they should or shouldn’t do, and allow yourself to create your own happiness.

  • How Obsessing About Your Body Gets in the Way of What Matters

    How Obsessing About Your Body Gets in the Way of What Matters

    Woman Exercising

    “Focus on what you want your life to look like—not just your body.” ~Sarah Failla

    Growing up I never had much concern for the shape or size of my body. Perhaps once in a while the idea of losing weight or beginning an exercise routine crossed my mind, but it was always fleeting and I was quickly back to gossiping with my best friend or writing a note to my boyfriend.

    Once I entered college I gained some weight, what with the unlimited access to Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch (something that never, ever crossed the threshold of my childhood home) and no fewer than five local pizza joints that delivered to the dorms.

    Still, though, I didn’t spend much time worrying about my health or what was going on with my body.

    In my last year or two at school, I began going to the gym along with my roommates, and by the time graduation rolled around I decided I should try to go on a diet and lose the weight I’d gained in the last few years.

    My attempt at slimming down worked, as a combination of restricting calories and increasing exercise will do, and soon I was off on my next set of adventures, which included working at a ski lodge in Vermont, traveling cross country, living for a summer in Montana, and traveling around the southern US, often living in a tent.

    During that time thoughts about my body didn’t occupy much space in my mind, though at times there was a fear of weight gain. For the most part, though, I was living my life and enjoying my travels.

    A few years down the line, though, things had taken a turn. I was uncertain about the future of both my romantic relationship and my career, and focusing on the health, size, and shape of my body became a very time-consuming diversion.

    I began waking at 5:30 most mornings in order to fit in a workout, sometimes completing another when I got home from work. I began feeling a bit uncertain and afraid around certain foods, and felt the need to cut back on the amount I ate. I felt consumed with losing weight and changing the shape of my body.

    Though many praised me for what they assumed was my healthy lifestyle, I was increasingly miserable. It didn’t matter that I was losing weight, I still thought my body looked wrong.

    I spent more and more of my time, energy, and attention thinking about my body. I was never, ever in the present moment with myself. I felt paralyzed when it came to many life decisions.

    When I look back now, I see clearly what was going on. I see that I was afraid, and that obsessing about the way my body looked gave me an outlet, gave me something else to focus on. I was trying to avoid my fear.

    I wanted to do something big and bold and amazing with my life, but I was afraid I never would. I was unsatisfied in my relationship, but afraid of being alone. I wanted to do and be so much more, but the thought of change and fear of failure were too much.

    Focusing on the food I put on my mouth, the size on the tag in my jeans, and the number on the scale made it possible to avoiding facing up to my deepest uncertainties.

    Eventually, with much time spent in self-reflection, coaching, and counseling, I was able to move past my body woes. I was able to stop letting worries about my body stand in the way of taking big, important steps toward living a life I could be proud of and present in.

    Today my life and focus is very different. I am very happily married, a mother, and a business owner. I am proud of myself for getting here.

    I can’t wish away the years I spent dieting and overly worrying about my physical appearance, because doing so actually helped me cope with things I wasn’t yet ready to face. I wouldn’t have wanted to live that way long term, but at the time it provided me with a valuable escape.

    The experience also gave me something I never expected: the ability to help others struggling with the same thing. For that, I am so thankful, because I have found a passion I didn’t know existed, one that wouldn’t even exist, had I not been through all of that.

    If you find that you are putting excessive energy into worrying about your weight, size, or other aspects of your body, to the point where you are unable to live life in such a way that is satisfying to you, here are my suggestions for getting back to a place of balance:

    Acknowledge that your worries have gotten out of hand.

    Sometimes just realizing that something bigger is going on can be the key to getting back to a centered place.

    Realize they’re just thoughts, and you can, with practice, make them kinder or even ignore them.

    Just because the thought “I’m need to lose weight” crosses your mind doesn’t mean you need to believe it. You can shift it to “I would prefer to focus on what I like about my body” or even let the thought float by and not attach to it.

    Learn to value, appreciate, and respect your body for what it is.

    Your body does amazing things no matter what your size, shape, or weight. For instance, if you can see these words, it means your eyes work, and finding more positive things about your body is easy once you get started thinking about it.

    Practice something that brings you to the present moment.

    Being in the present helps you remove yourself from too much worry about your body and focus on what matters most to you. Maybe meditation isn’t your thing, but perhaps stretching, practicing yoga, journaling, praying, or even watching the leaves sway in the breeze will work for you.

    Check in to see what you’re trying to avoid.

    As I said, I used my body focus as a way to avoid what I was afraid of, so if you’re doing the same, try taking a peak at what’s scaring you in small, incremental sessions. You don’t have to solve everything right now, just begin to open your awareness.

    Get professional help if necessary.

    Food and body image issues are no joke, and if you’re suffering in a way that is negatively impacting your life, seek counseling from someone who is trained to provide the help you need.

    To be clear, there is nothing wrong with making an effort to eat healthfully and move your body in a way that feels good to you, it really all comes down to the energy behind your actions.

    If you are choosing to exercise because it makes you feel strong and alive or helps you shake off the stresses of the day, that is very different from choosing to exercise because you are full of fear about your life or what would happen if you gained weight.

    The same goes for your eating habits. If you are filling your body with healthy, whole foods because you enjoy them and love preparing them, that is very different from forcing yourself to eat a certain way because you are afraid of what will happen to your body if you do not.

    Your body is a gift, and it deserves the best care. However, if your focus on it starts to get out of hand and prevents you from existing and inhabiting your life, or consumes your thoughts, it’s time to take a step back and shift your focus to what truly matters to you.

    Woman exercising image via Shutterstock

  • Escaping the Trap of “Shoulds” and Doing What You Want to Do

    Escaping the Trap of “Shoulds” and Doing What You Want to Do

    “If you are always trying to be normal, you will never know how amazing you can be.” ~Maya Angelou

    I’ve never done things the “normal” way. Yes, I graduated from high school and went on to college, but then I didn’t go the job-marriage-house-baby route.

    After I had my degree in hand, I moved to Vermont to work at a ski lodge. After a few months of that I packed up all of my belongings and traveled around the country, landing in Montana. I spent a few months there, sleeping on a mattress laid on the bare floor in an apartment with no other furniture.

    I could walk to the grocery store and the library; the two-screen movie theater was also just a couple of blocks away. National parks and glacial lakes were nearby. It was probably the most beautiful place I’ve ever lived.

    I left Montana and traveled around for a while with a boyfriend, then landed in Virginia Beach. I got a job I loathed and quickly experienced a feeling that would become familiar over the years: that of being trapped.

    I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but this wasn’t it, yet I felt I had no choice. I often felt directionless and downright miserable.

    Soon, though, my time in Virginia was through, and I headed back to Vermont. I worked a variety of jobs in the hospitality industry, finding that I actually enjoyed meeting the guests’ needs.

    Then, somewhat suddenly, another move was on the horizon, this one down south to the mountains of North Carolina. I found a job at an inn and stayed there for three years. I enjoyed the job, but the money wasn’t great, and after some time I was starting to feel lost and, again, trapped.

    I left that job for a “good” one. It was a state job, with benefits and decent pay. I hated it and cried almost every weekend, filled with dread whenever I thought about going back Monday morning.

    During this time I started talking to a life coach who I hoped would give me some guidance and hope, and within a few months, I got the courage to leave that awful job. I also got the courage to change course with my career and start my own business, which felt like a good direction for me.

    And then, again, I floundered. Although I loved what I was doing, I wasn’t really making my business work. Looking back now, I know why.

    After less than a year I was majorly money-crunched, so I went back to a regular job. But, as usual, I was bored and felt trapped. I knew there was something more for me, I just didn’t know what.

    Finally after a few more years and a series of events that included a serious illness, the death of my father, and a pregnancy, I took matters into my own hands.

    Even though I still had a full time job, I started making art again. I started doing all of the things I was passionate about. And I went into business for myself again, this time with greater clarity about what I wanted to do, why, and how could I do it.

    It didn’t happen overnight, but with time and hard work, my business started to grow.

    I left the world of cubicles, office politics, and boring meetings forever once my daughter was born, and now I spend my days doing work I love and hanging out with my baby and husband. It feels great, it feels right, and it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.

    Looking back over my experiences I realize there is one word I’ve carefully left out when describing my journey, and it’s one that showed up whenever I felt held back or trapped. That word is “should.”

    Sometimes “should” showed up alone, other times it was accompanied by its close personal friend, “not.” Either way, whenever should was around, my life suffered.

    “I should get a full time job with benefits after college, that’s the right thing to do.”

    “I should not move to a new state without having a job lined up.”

    “I should try to please other people first.”

    “I should not pursue a career that is so out there. What will other people think?”

    Here are more examples of how “should” can really mess up your pursuit of all things authentic and true, if you let them:

    “I should stay at this job, even though I hate it.”

    “I should stay in this marriage, you know, for the kids.”

    “I shouldn’t pursue that thing that lights me up inside because people will think it’s silly.”

    “I shouldn’t move because my parents will be upset.”

    “I should say yes to that obligation even though it makes me cringe.”

    “I shouldn’t charge too much for my services because then people think I’m full of myself.”

    “I should say yes to another serving of cake so no one thinks I’m rude.”

    Do you see how one little word can interfere with your life in such a big way?

    I am so, so thankful that I never let a “should” interfere with my life for too long. I’m so thankful that my inner compass kept yelling “something’s not right here!” and that I actually listened. I’m so thankful that I was brave enough to move past the excuses when it mattered most.

    If you’re in the same boat, and know there’s something more for you but can’t take the leap because of “should” (or “shouldn’t”), here are some ideas:

    1. Notice when you are falling back on a “should” excuse.

    A good place to start is to notice when you feel sad, fearful, or guilty. Notice what “should” is lingering in the back of your mind, causing that emotion.

    2. Change your thoughts.

    Once you’re more aware of when you’re telling yourself you should or shouldn’t do something, it’s time to change that thought.

    Try something that’s easy for you to believe. Instead of “I should always say yes to new projects at work, it’s best for my career,” try “Maybe it’s okay that I turned down that assignment, since I’m trying to learn about what’s best for me and that one didn’t feel quite right.”

    3. Ignore the “shoulds.”

    You actually don’t have to believe every single thought that comes into your head, especially ones that make you miserable and drive you further from doing what makes your heart sing.

    Next time you hear yourself saying you “should” do something, try saying, “I hear you, but I don’t believe you, so I’m going to think about something else now.”

    4. Figure out who you’re trying to impress or make happy.

    You are most likely trying to stay within the bounds that your family, your church, your community, or society in general has deemed acceptable. Pinpointing who it is that you’re trying to satisfy can help you break free from the game of “shoulds.”

    5. Beware of imposing your own personal set of “shoulds” on others.

    The people who take you most seriously, who are most concerned with pleasing you, are going to be your loved ones. Now that you’re aware of other peoples’ “should” on you, think about how your expectations may be impacting others.

    I still struggle with telling myself I should or shouldn’t do certain things, but I’ve made great progress. I really believe that everyone will feel more content, confident, and in touch with their true selves if they can learn to do things because they want to, not because they should.

  • You Don’t Have to Believe You’re Not Good Enough

    You Don’t Have to Believe You’re Not Good Enough

    “I don’t know a perfect person. I only know flawed people who are still worth loving.” ~John Green

    “I’m not good enough.”

    I cannot possibly count the number of times this thought has passed through my head over the years. It’s been applicable to nearly every aspect of my life from childhood to my current status as an adult, parent, and business owner.

    Still, both the frequency with which this thought enters my head and the length of time I spend believing it have dropped considerably, so I think my story and the lessons I’ve learned are worth sharing—especially since I know I’m not alone in struggling with this belief.

    One of my earliest memories, if not my very first one, is of teetering on the edge of a nubby brown armchair, putting my head between my father’s downward cast eyes and whatever book it was in which he was so engrossed.

    Alas, my repeated attempts to get his attention did nothing. What could a preschooler assume in this instance? Even now, more than thirty years later, I don’t see how anything other than “not good enough” or “not interesting enough” could have crossed my mind.

    That was certainly not the last time my father’s behavior fed my worries that I was not enough. However, he has since passed from this world and blaming him does absolutely nothing to help me move forward; I am now an adult capable of making my own assessments of my value as a human.

    In other words: I am responsible for allowing myself to feel not good enough.

    But I didn’t know that for a long, long time, and I let others take me down a notch without ever questioning it.

    When a boy in my gym class made a mean comment about the size of my thighs, I never questioned him; instead, I simply believed he was correct and that I should feel badly about my body.

    When a close friend chose another friend over me and then, years later, a boy over me, I took the blame: obviously I was not enough. It never occurred to me that maybe she was the one with the issue.

    When I got paid less than I was worth, when I my writing was rejected, when I couldn’t solve every single one of my clients’ problems, when someone unsubscribed from my mailing list, I took all of this personally. I took it as proof that I was not good enough.

    Yet the years have certainly changed me for the better. In 2008 I learned that I was, in fact, in control of my thoughts. I could choose to believe or not believe the stories I was telling myself.

    I also learned that everyone struggles with feeling good enough, and that I was not alone.

    I learned that I could spend more time feeling good about myself if I chose to. I learned that the people who taught me I wasn’t good enough didn’t do it on purpose; they struggled with their own self-worth.

    Today I am a grownup who is mostly satisfied and happy with herself and confident in her place in the world.

    Yet it still creeps in. There are times, especially when it comes to motherhood and running a business, when I feel ill-equipped. When I feel the world crashing down around me, and the familiar “you’re not good enough” slithers into my thoughts, nearly undetected.

    But when it does happen, I have the means to turn it around. It doesn’t own or control me anymore. Here are the basics of turning “I’m not good enough” into “I’m really okay the way I am.”

    Your thoughts create your world, and you can absolutely take charge of them.

    It’s impossible to overstate the importance of paying attention to what stories you’re telling yourself and learning how to change those stories into ones that best serve you.

    Yes, you can spend your life repeating “I’m not good enough” over and over, but why? You can write a new script. You can also learn to let your negative thoughts float on by, like a feather in the breeze, instead of grabbing hold of them and getting sucked in.

    Try telling your story a new way.

    Building upon the previous point, try this exercise: Think of the most important events in your life, or a particularly trying period of your life. Write your story down the way you normally would tell it.

    Next, pretend you’ve been told to write the same story, but with a humorous slant. Then write it again, this time as though you were attempting to inspire others with your tale of overcoming adversity. And again, as though you were writing about a great adventure.

    The purpose of this exercise is to see how the same set of events, the events that shaped your beliefs, life, and thoughts, can take on many dimensions depending on your perception of them. Just knowing this may help you see yourself in a new light.

    There is plenty of proof out there that you are good enough, you just need to look for it.

    I bet you can think of a million ways you’re not good enough but struggle to list just a couple of ways in which you are. For instance, sometimes I struggle to feel like I’m interesting enough to be heard, and thus have trouble saying what I’m feeling and thinking.

    To counteract that, I must take the time to list the evidence that I am, indeed, enough. I actually write down the proof in a journal, or say it out loud to my husband so that it feels concrete.

    In this case, examples that I am in good enough include:

    • I do my very best to be open, honest, and authentic, which I know gives my words value.
    • I care deeply about others, so when I speak, I am trying my best to be supportive and helpful, which I believe makes me interesting and worthy of being heard.
    • Others have asked me to tell my story, asked for my help, or just wanted to get together to talk, so I must have something worthwhile to contribute.

    To try it yourself, pick one area in which you’re particularly struggling to feel like you’re enough. From there, look for any proof, any scrap of evidence, that you are. Write down every single thing you can think of, and make a regular habit of rereading the list and adding to it.

    Remember that you’re not alone.

    I’ve never met anyone who hasn’t, at one time or another, felt insecure about their worth or value or skills or intelligence. Somehow I find it helpful to know that even the most put-together, successful person out there struggles with the same things I do.

    Reach out to others, even if it’s only in your mind.

    If you have someone in your life that loves and cherishes you, why not ask for a little boost? I have gone to my husband many times when I felt down on myself, and hearing his perspective or just feeling his embrace does wonders to turn things around.

    Or perhaps you’ve got no one nearby, or want to rely on yourself to feel better. In that case, try thinking about yourself from the perspective of your parent, child, best friend, sibling, or spouse.

    Also, depending on your spiritual beliefs, you can try to see yourself through the eyes of your higher power, if you believe in one.

    In either case, write down what they might say and what they see in you for maximum impact and memorability.

    The truth is, I am good enough, and so are you.

    Maybe you’re not a good enough ball player to make it to the big leagues, maybe you’re not a good enough dancer to make a career of it, but as a human, you are just right. And when it comes to what’s most important, just do your best and tell yourself a new tale: I am good enough.

    Smiling woman image via Shutterstock