Author: Lisa Esile

3 Reasons to Stop Worrying About Your Negative Thoughts

“Whatever you fight, you strengthen, and what you resist, persists.” ~Eckhart Tolle

Do you ever catch yourself being critical, judgmental, or full of fear and worry? And do you ever worry about how many negative thoughts you have? If you do, this post is for you.

We’re taught that negative thoughts are bad, that they’re “toxic,” they “lower your vibration,” keep you stuck, and so on.

We’re taught that in order to feel self-assured and confident, we should banish negative thoughts from our lives. Kind of like, goodbye, negative thoughts; hello, higher vibration, better boyfriend, nicer car, inner peace, and so on.

So what do you do with all that negative junk in your head? How do you make it stop? And is trying to jam a positive thought over a negative one really the best way to manage the situation?

The reason I’m thinking about this today is that it’s 7:30am and for the past three hours I’ve been watching Mad Men. Yep. Instead of setting myself up for the day with a restful sleep, I’ve been watching T.V. for half the night.

To be fair, it’s an unusual thing for me to do, but still, you should hear the rubbish my mind is telling me:

You’re such a lazy little missy.

You’re going to have a bad day.

You’re not going to get anywhere like this.

Yikes.

People often advise you to trade a negative thought for a positive one using techniques like affirmations. Quick, quell those negative thoughts! But is this really the best way forward?

Most people misunderstand this whole negative thinking debacle because they misunderstand what thoughts are in the first place.

Happiness doesn’t depend on how few negative thoughts you have, but on what you do with the ones you have.

This brings me to the first piece of good news: (more…)

June 22, 2021
7 Simple (and Surprising) Tips to Help You Realize Your Dreams
“Don’t be pushed by your problems; be led by your dreams.” ~Unknown

It’s tricky sometimes, isn’t it?

Trying to find our place on this planet.

Tapping into our inner desires.

Sometimes we know what we want but not how to get there. Sometimes we know “this isn’t me,” but we have no clue who “me” is. And sometimes we think we’re already there, then something out of the ordinary happens and we realize, this isn’t me at all.

At each stage there are pitfalls than can keep us looking in the wrong direction, stuck in fear, or stressed about how to move forward.

I know, I’ve been back and forth through all of them.

At twenty-five I had a postgraduate science degree and no wish to use it. At thirty-five I wanted to teach, write, and paint, but no idea what form this would take. And at forty-one, my work is read by thousands and every day I receive emails telling me what I do makes a difference.

(Keeping it real: People also email me and tell me I suck.)

Through it all, I’ve learned simple laws to help navigate the ups and downs of discovering and following your dreams.

1. Don’t think about “your path in life.”

Sounds contrary, doesn’t it?

Because isn’t that exactly what we should be thinking about?

Yes, and no.

Where it can be detrimental is when we stand at the precipice of making a decision and we worry, “Is this my path in life?”

A path is a track laid down to walk on. A path implies there’s only one way, a preconceived singular course. It implies that you can make a wrong decision.

Watch it! Don’t step off the path!

Yes, our life is wonderfully, marvelously one of a kind. No doubt. And trying to make it look like someone else’s is a first class ticket to unsatisfied-ville. But thinking about our path, now, can put unnecessary pressure on us. It makes us feel nervous.

There are infinite routes to a satisfying, uplifting, life. Whatever decision you make—and have made before—you’re on the right path. It’s all “the path.”

2. Forget everything your guidance counselor said.

Do you remember after high school, tossing around a hodge-podge of career options—trying to decide what to do with your life?

Should you become a podiatrist (have your own clinic), or an actuary (pays well)?

You talk to other podiatrists. You find out what an actuary actually does.

You listen to your parents. You seek advice.

We live in a world saturated with messages about what we should do. There’s nothing wrong with advice. Sometimes. In moderation. You just gotta push it through your “no one but me knows my dreams and desires” filter.

It’s not that our guidance counselor/parents/spouse/bus-driver don’t mean well. They do. They just don’t know. They can’t.

And we might not know either, at first anyway.

Whatever we hanker for, this gives us the greatest joy. And it’s often not some grand thing—that’s our mind (ego) imposing society’s rules.

I knew a woman once whose three greatest loves were her children, fishing, and next to that, working on an assembly line—she loved the camaraderie and seeing things get done.

3. Ask this simple question.

When I was young, if you’d asked me what job I’d like, assuming I had all the skills necessary, I’d have thought it was a trick question. I thought everyone wanted this.

I wanted to be a writer and painter.

If only I had been given those talents! And I surely hadn’t. (Can’t draw, painting even more tragic, messy handwriting.)

I trained in nutrition science. I was even fairly good at it. But I don’t believe it’s what I’m here to do.

Pay attention to your desires, even when—no, especially when—they seem ludicrous. Roll the idea around in the back of your mind.

What life would you choose if you could wave a wand and have every skill that you needed?

No pressure. Just notice.

4. Stop worrying about how to get there—or if “there” is even a good idea.

Human beings are wired for safety. This is why we want our trajectory mapped out.

An illusion for sure.

To get to where we really want to go, there is no pre-drawn map. The good news is that we don’t need one! All we need is the next step. And we always know this.

For instance, say you have the feeling that you’d like to make shoes. Rather than worry about the fact that almost no-one makes shoes by hand anymore, consider, what do you feel moved to do, right now?

Maybe it’s a simple as ordering a copy of How to Make a Shoe. Or arranging to meet a friend of a friend who’s a clothes designer.

Big changes come from a series of incremental decisions. Trust that there is a wise hand guiding you (because there is). Take notice of seemingly small inclinations.

Sure the shoe thing seems far out, but so would most successful ventures when they started.

5. Learn the difference between an inner desire and unhelpful mind talk.

Most of us know the value in listening to our intuition. But it’s confusing sometimes.

Is the voice telling us to buy snowshoes—even though we live in Texas—our intuition? Or is it our mind (ego) fooling with us.

Here’s how I tell:

My mind uses logic and likes to copy others. It sounds like: “Bill moved to Italy and now his life is awesome, so I should go.”

When my heart (intuition) speaks, it’s more like a deep feeling. I can see myself wandering around Rome, eating pizza.

(Then, what usually happens is that my mind comes up with reasons not to do it—”You’re gluten free, you’ll starve in Italy.”)

As author Chetan Parkyn says, some people are guided by strong gut feelings that hold true from start to finish. For others, their gut feeling is less sure, and where they find clarity is by taking a tentative step, then reassessing.

If you’re not sure, dip your toe in. See how it feels.

6. Be happily confused!

What if (after everything) we can’t feel the tug of our inner desires? Or, we’re uncertain about the next step?

Answer: Don’t worry.

Don’t worry, because the only way to get where we’re going is through uncertainty (and sometimes turmoil). Feeling discombobulated is part of it.

It’s not a bad thing. Rejoice!

You’re on your way!

You might be drawn to actively search for an answer. Or maybe you feel like sitting back and giving it some time. Or a combination.

Go easy on yourself. Be lazy. Have fun. Try things. Spend time just sitting and being quiet. Spend less time online. Take a job and don’t worry about how it fits into your plans.

Allow yourself to be in a state of confusion. It’s not always comfortable, but it’s perfectly normal.

7. Expect to feel afraid.

Making a lunge for what’s important to us is scary.

Always is.

Every time I’ve followed what was in my heart, most people thought I was loopy. But you know what? The voice of derision you most need to watch out for is your own.

I’ve found these things helpful:
- Mentoring
- Not telling people what I’m doing—I didn’t tell anyone about my blog for six months.
- Reading books like The War of Art by Stephen Pressfield
- Reading books about others who followed their dreams (or blogs like Tiny Buddha)
Finding our way is as much about getting out of our own way. Letting go of ideals that have been imposed on us. Taking leaps. Stumbling and getting up. Trusting our inner guidance.

And remembering, always, we’re doing fine. Even when it seems like we’re making a mess of it. We’re not.

Photo by Ingo Schmeritschnig
July 30, 2014
4 Faulty Beliefs That Cause You to Push Yourself and Do Too Much

“Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you.” ~John De Paola

Do you ever work past the point where you know it’s time to stop? Where your body, heart, and soul are saying, “Ah, enough already,” only you can’t hear them because your mind is pushing you on?

And have you ever pushed to such an extent you become physically and/or mentally sick?

My hand is raised.

Working hard and pushing the boundaries can be stimulating and rewarding; the problem comes when there’s an imbalance for extended periods.

Meditation and silence are increasingly advocated as ways to find balance in today’s hyper-connected, “always on” world. But for those of us with a propensity to work till we drop, there’s more to it.

These four common, though faulty beliefs get to the heart of why it can seem so hard to stop, rest, and rejuvenate.

Faulty Belief # 1: I have to keep going.

It’s easy to think you have to keep going, when usually, you don’t.

“I have to finish my degree.”

“I have to … ”

“I have to …”

The human mind loves to make plans and stick to them, no matter what. The problem is that our mind thinks these things will strengthen our identity and make us feel good.

This is reinforced by a world focused on achievements, not one that values us for just being.

It’s often easy to just stop or change course. But we don’t; we become rigid.

Dogged determination can be useful, like when writing a book, or even this article; if I stopped every time it got difficult, I’d never finish anything. But sometimes the plan isn’t a good one. Sometimes such determination isn’t healthy or useful.

I spent years thinking the road to “success,” and therefore happiness, was a college degree. But that’s all it was, a thought, a belief. A rule I’d made for myself that simply wasn’t true.

Who knows if leaving college would have been a less painful route; I just wish I’d seen it as a viable option. Would it have been such a bad thing to get my Masters degree in six years instead of five? Or to not get it at all?

If you’re feeling strung out, ask yourself, do I really want to do this—not just the assignment, but the degree; not just paying the mortgage, but the house?

Take notice of what your gut is saying. Can you feel what the right thing for you is?

And even when there are things you have to do—though really there are very few and they usually involve caring for dependants—they can often be modified so you can reduce your load.

Keep an eye out for long held beliefs and notice how uncomfortable it feels to consider a new tack.

It feels scary to go against what your mind says. Why? Because you don’t know what’s going to happen. But in truth, you never do.

Faulty Belief #2: I’m essential.

No, you’re not.

Handsome, talented, and deeply lovable, yes. But essential? No.

This is a bit embarrassing, but a few years ago if you’d said to me, “You have to come to my party because it won’t be as fun without you,” I would have believed you.

I could have just arrived back from a two-month trans-arctic trek and I’d still have hobbled in on frostbitten toes trying to be funny and charming. Aside from suffering from an extreme case of self-importance, I didn’t want to let people down.

I thought I needed a reason to say no. A real reason. Not just, “I feel like writing poetry tonight.” Something big.

“I have the mumps.”

“I’ll be in Fiji.”

But saying no and taking time out isn’t selfish. Putting other people’s needs ahead of your own, especially long-term, doesn’t help anyone. It’s dishonest, it makes you feel resentful, and you miss out on the wonderful things that happen when you rest.

Consider that you’re not as essential as you think you are. Delegate. Get help where you need it.

(This applies in the workplace too.)

Your friends will understand. They want you to look after yourself. And the party/school reunion/church fete you don’t want to go to—everyone will get along just fine without you.

The only thing you’re essential to is you.

Faulty Belief #3: My mind is a wise guide.

Most of us are brought up to believe our thoughts are the best guides for our life. And so we spend our days and weeks doing what seems logical.

—If I go to the party, people will like me and be there for me when I need them.

—If I get a bigger car/taller horse, I’ll get a prettier girlfriend.

(You probably won’t, you know. You might just get one that cares more about your car/horse than you.)

The problem is—as you may know—the mind is inherently insecure. It wants you to take the safest route, following others or repeating what you always do.

If working without adequate rest has been modeled as the way to be successful, or if you habitually push yourself hard, then your mind will want you to continue doing this.

Thankfully, there is another side to us that is often a better guide than our mind. Our heart. I’m not talking about the romantic heart—though this is part of it—but the bit of us that knows, deep down, what’s right for us.

The challenge is our heart speaks more quietly than our intellectual side, often in the form of a hunch or deep knowing. And because the guidance doesn’t always appear logical, we can easily dismiss it.

For instance, when you have the idea that you’d like to write songs, that is your heart. The thought you get immediately after, saying, “You can’t even play an instrument,” that’s your mind.

When I get an inclination to rest, my mind almost always thinks it’s a bad idea.

But the more I practice ignoring my mind’s taskmaster-like tendencies, the more I trust my inner wisdom. Not only do I feel more refreshed and enthused, I get ideas and see opportunities I miss when I’m in full swing.

Faulty belief #4: There’s something wrong with me that keeps me going so hard.

I used to wish I was the kind of person who naturally moved more slowly, and who didn’t wake in the morning with their “on” switch already dialed up.

I don’t think this anymore. (Well, not often)

I’ve come to believe there’s nothing wrong with emerging at the end of the day weary and happy. I love my energy and enthusiasm and good intentions. Finding balance isn’t about trying to stop that flow, but working with it.

I have to factor in stops. Things like turning off my phone and laptop in the evening, going hiking in the weekend, or even something as simple as doing the laundry in a relaxed, pottering way.

For those times when it’s harder to shift gears, try just sitting, staring into space. It’s a great way to reconnect. Looking at things like social media, does it recharge you or make you feel discharged?

Celebrate your zestiness! But look after yourself too. You really will get more done and you’ll feel better while you’re doing it.

And when you forget and overdo things—my hand is up again—don’t worry. It’s no big deal. Us over-workers also tend to overwork at being hard on ourselves!

Photo by Gerry Thomasen

June 19, 2014
6 Ways Your Mind Tries to Control Your Life

“I know but one freedom and that is the freedom of the mind.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Our mind is a funny thing. On the one hand, it’s awesome. But on the other, it can pulverize us more quickly and ruthlessly than anything else.

Our mind is inherently scared. That’s its job, to be cautious—to keep us alive, to have us cross roads safely and not get eaten by a lion. But left unchecked, it can become paralyzed with fear and meaner than a cornered crocodile.

And it’s incredibly bossy.

The mind’s tendency to want to control is so strong and so habitual that we often don’t realize when it tries to push our inner wisdom and natural sense of ease and love aside.

The bad news is there is no book or course that will change the nature of our mind. The good news? We don’t have to change it. The problem isn’t our mind but how we use it.

We feel anxious, fearful, sad, or resentful when we give our mind too much power, when we follow its dopey ideas against our better judgment.

Here’s how to spot when your mind is trying to take over.

1. When you ignore your natural inclination.

Your mind is smart. Not wise smart but computer smart.

Your mind isn’t into all that woolly intuition jazz. It wants facts. It likes making calculations. Running the odds.

Say you want to call a friend you haven’t thought of in years. But then your mind says, “Don’t be silly. He’s probably not home. He won’t remember me.”

So you don’t call.

But have you ever followed one of those inclinations and then looked back and seen, wow, look at everything that happened after?

And what about decisions like what to do with your life? The logical way is listen to experts or copy what works for other people. Your mind loves this.

This is why we ignore the little voice that says, “You should be a writer,” and choose instead to study statistics, because there are plenty of jobs for statisticians. Or we train to be a dancer because we’re “good at that.”

Except you aren’t “other people.” And experts aren’t as expert about you as you are. And just because you’re “good at something” doesn’t mean it’s what you want to do.

2. When you want to say no but you end up saying yes.

Do you have trouble saying no?

I used to. I didn’t even see it as a serious option until I was age twenty-three and so strung out from months of overdoing that I went for five nights without sleep in the middle of finals.

It was messy.

I thought there were rules more important than my deep desire not to do something. Rules like be a good friend, be a good student, go to lots of parties.

It took me months to recover.

This is, of course, a total mind thing. Your mind wants to be liked and it thinks everything is important.

Your mind doesn’t realize that saying “no” isn’t a big deal, or even a medium deal. Or that your intuition is where wisdom lies.

Not only is it your right to do as you genuinely desire, it benefits everyone when you do.

I was watching An Angel at My Table recently, based on the autobiography of Janet Frame, one of New Zealand’s favorite authors. Janet spent eight years in a psychiatric hospital, had two hundred electroshock treatments, and narrowly escaped a lobotomy only to learn years later that she wasn’t unwell; she just didn’t like being very social, and if she did what she felt like doing, she was fine.

3. When you constantly text or check your phone, email, or Facebook status.

I love the Internet and email and reading comments on my blog. Just love it. What an awesome world we live in.

But often I feel off balance because of it. Or rather, because of how I use it.

And it’s not like I don’t know why I get so hooked on it. I do. I’m looking for approval.

The need for approval goes deep. Not only is it a natural trait of the mind, it’s entrenched by our schooling system.

But it’s dangerous. It keeps you distracted from the present moment and trains you to worry when people disapprove. Which they will.

The modern hyper-connected world is addictive. To the mind it’s like candy.

So what’s the answer? Give it all up?

Personally, heck no. But setting limits and removing temptation keeps things in check.

4. When you think, “It’s all very well for them.”

Have you ever heard an inspirational story and thought, “It’s all very well for him, he came from a rowing family. It’s easy for him to row the Northwest Passage.”

You see it all the time and it’s a classic case of your mind resisting change, worried you’ll want to make some leap of your own.

Take Elizabeth Gilbert and her book, Eat, Pray, Love.

It wasn’t a story about traveling around the world. Not really. It was about survival and courage and how one woman used the resources she had to save herself.

Thinking, as a few did, that it’s all very well for her she could afford to travel around the world is missing the point.

We all have the ability to get up off our metaphorical bathroom floor. And we all have our own unique set of resources to help us. When your mind is quickly dismissive and judgmental, it’s trying to stop you from seeing this.

5. When you try and control someone else.

Have you ever thought you knew better than someone else and tried to get them to do things your way?

Just like dozens of times a day, right?

Your mind is certain you have to intervene. You don’t. Your mind thinks it knows best. It doesn’t.

Trying to control other people, in small and big matters, is not only annoying and disrespectful, it stops the flow of life. You miss out.

I don’t know how many times I’ve experienced a profound and unexpected pleasure after I’ve ignored the urge to butt in.

6. When you feel inadequate for being “too negative.”

We’re inundated with messages telling us we should be grateful and positive and the like. They’re well meaning, but ultimately unhelpful.

Because here’s the catch.

Your mind regards these ideas as rules and is critical when you fail, as you invariably will. Because seriously, who’s positive or grateful all the time?

A few years ago a friend told me I was a negative person.

My response: “Okay, so how do I change that?”

“You don’t,” he said. “You probably won’t always be this way. It’s just how you are right now.”

Whenever you feel inadequate, this is your mind pushing you to “follow the rules.” It’s well intentioned, but misguided.

Accepting how you are, no matter how you are, is the most loving and genuinely positive thing you can do.

And yes, this applies to when you’re being controlling.

It’s your mind’s nature to seek control. It’s neither a good or bad thing, it just is. Sometimes you’ll succumb, other times you won’t. And it’s all perfectly okay.

Photo by threephin

January 29, 2014
5 Surprising Things I Learned During a Year of Silence

“Freedom is instantaneous the moment we accept things as they are.” ~Karen Maezen Miller

Four years ago I spent the better part of a year being silent.

A friend had told me that in silence, the bits of you that need healing heal themselves. He was talking about the bits of me that had pushed me until I was sick and depressed, too anxious to answer the door.

I call it my year of silence, but it was more like a year of “doing nothing” because I wasn’t silently reading a book or silently reorganizing my cutlery drawer; I was just sitting. The not doing was the really challenging part.

Much of what I learned from that year was different to what I’d expected. Five things that surprised me the most were:

1. A unique meditation

My brief going in was “The less you do, the better.” Things I’d considered useful and productive—reading, writing, talking, cooking, and even cleaning—were now distractions. “Let your thoughts run,” my friend said. “Notice them if you want to, but leave them to themselves.”

And so, I just sat.

After five days I called and said, “I feel like I used to when I meditated.”

I didn’t get it. Meditation is when you focus on one thing; I was letting my mind leap about. But when you sit without distractions you start to see your thoughts for what they are, just thoughts, and as you do, you reconnect with the you beneath your thoughts.

It felt like meditation because it was meditation.

I saw a poster recently that said, “I missed meditation today, which makes seven years in a row.” That’s pretty much how I used to feel too.

Now I know that every time I just sit, without distraction, even if it’s for half an hour, it’s meditation.

2. The din of silence

Being silent sounds peaceful, right?

It’s not.

It’s like pulling up a chair with your harshest, most foul-mouthed critic and saying, “Okay, tell me what you really think?”

And while there were some “I’m connected to all things” times, there were also the “I want to stab myself” times. (I’m only half kidding.)

Think of your mind as a spoiled child indulged with toys and shiny objects its whole life— books to read, things to watch, goals to work toward, scrabble.

When you do nothing, there are no toys.

Here’s a poem I wrote in one of my sneaky, writing moments.

Having a Knees Up
The only place my
head wants to be, is
under the covers
close to my knees.

There is no uplifting message to this point; just wanted to say, it can get gnarly.

3. A year of minutes

Your mind is a doing things junkie. It almost doesn’t care what you do.

It’s like a heroin addict. No heroin? I’ll take crack. Finished the last episode of Walking Dead; I’ll take the video of the cat in a shark suit.

I began this not doing lark for just one day, but I carried on because, for the first time in a long time, it felt right. My mind, however, thought I was a loser. It said things like:

“How are you going to get anywhere like this?!”
“Let’s start a blog and write about this.”
“Elizabeth Gilbert went to India. You should go to India.”
“Oh, learn Māori. You’ve always wanted to do that.”

The urge to do was gargantuan. It was also epic. Mighty. And colossal. Thank you thesaurus, I think we’ve made our point.

And it was made worse by all the cool ideas I was having. Silence does that. And a few of them were actually cool.

My mind was relentless.

Early on I realized the challenge wasn’t doing this for a year, but hanging-in until lunchtime.

The only way through was minute by minute. Not in thinking how awesomely silent I’d been the day before—nice thought—or thinking about what lay ahead, but by being present in the moment.

As time went on it got easier. My mind got tired of being ignored and stopped talking so much.

4. The wrong guy for the job

There is nothing like watching your mind to really get to know it.

I hadn’t realized how bossy it was. How much it worried. Or that it’s so terrified of change it’ll do anything to maintain the status quo, even when the status quo is you being too anxious to answer the door, or whatever hole/habit you might be stuck in.

I began to understand my mind’s basic nature. And how the most important thing to the mind is to be alert for danger.

I realized that the problem wasn’t my mind—it was me. I’d given it the wrong job. I’d mistakenly put it in charge of my life.

When my body told me to rest, my mind said, “No, try harder,” so I did.

When I had an idea to do something, my mind said, “But no one else does it like that.” And so I didn’t either.

I constantly allowed my mind to overrule deeper wisdom and natural desire. I didn’t allow the rhythm and energy of life to flow through me; I tried to control it.

Letting your mind rule your life is like asking your inner eight year old to organize the next presidential campaign; she doesn’t know how and spends most of her time trying to look good in front of her friends.

5. The holy grail—acceptance

Silence helps you find balance.

Silence comes in different shapes. Silence is meditation. Silence is doing nothing. Silence can be standing in line without checking your phone.

Silence helps you see your mind is just one part of you. Silence helps you hear your wise inner voice.

But I also learned something far deeper and even more important; the cat inside the shark suit…

Human beings try hard. At everything. For instance, at one stage I tried so hard at doing nothing that I became phobic. (Yep.) And you might be thinking, if I were silent for a year I could be as calm and relaxed as Lisa is.

Firstly, ha ha about me feeling calm all the time. Secondly, that’s your mind talking.

The key to feeling self-assured and peaceful doesn’t come from some arduous journey, like being silent for a year, but in living life day to day.

People often ask me, but how do I feel calm and “positive” all the time? The answer: you don’t. Stop trying to. And when you do, gradually the moments that feel good start to expand and the ones that don’t start to recede.

When you have a clear moment, you have a clear moment. But those other non-clear moments, they’re perfectly fine too.

When you have a positive, life-affirming thought, this is fine, but so are all those cranky not so life-affirming thoughts.

Practicing acceptance is the master key.

November 14, 2013
How to Be Happy Now (Because Future Happiness Never Comes)

“Remember that sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck.” ~Dalai Lama

I used to think I was falling behind. Not on my rent or my taxes, but in life.

One moment, things were progressing fine. I had friends. Good teeth. A boyfriend. I even had my own did-I-really-do-all-that-study-to-be-doing-this first job.

But then it all went away. I became ill. And as the years went by, I watched from my bed as my friends led a version of the life I’d expected for myself.

It was as if everyone had gotten on the bus while I remained in the bus shelter. Which had an interesting smell. And I’d sat in some chewing gum.

But here’s something I’ve learned.

When it seems as if you’re “falling behind,” chances are you’re leaping ahead—not compared to other people, they have their own journey, but compared to your original planned-out trajectory.

A few weeks ago my husband and I were coming home after a sunny week poking around the Baja Peninsula in Mexico. Shortly before we were due to take off, the pilot told us there was a crack in the some-or-rather, the flight was canceled, and please would we return to the terminal.

So there we were, a plane-load of people, some waiting, some proactively making new plans, when out of the blue our name was called and we were rushed onto a direct flight home to Los Angeles.

Our original travel plans had us flying home via San Jose, a four-hour detour. But thanks to our “delay” we arrived home hours ahead of schedule.

It reminded me of when I was sick, because what seemed like such a setback at the time was anything but. In fact, it was one of the great gift bearers of my life, propelling me toward something I hadn’t known existed but am so grateful to have found.

What I thought was the long way turned out to be the short way.

It happens all the time.

I used to live in a small town in New Zealand, and I was always intrigued by the seemingly large number of people who, when asked how they came to live there, said their car broke down while on holiday. It was always the same: as they waited on repairs they took a drive and found the little out-of-the-way town.

Car breakdown. Plane breakdown. Health breakdown. Relationship breakdown. Career breakdown. What seems like an impediment is so often a blessing when you consider the ultimate end result.

What can be upsetting and worrisome is having your plans disrupted. Although, in retrospect, it’s often hilarious to think you knew the way in the first place.

Social conditioning tells us there’s an ideal way for life to progress; it varies depending on your circle of influence. For me it had to do with getting a good job, being active, getting married, going to college. That kind of thing.

And we make plans accordingly. It’s human nature—or at least the nature of our mind to do this.

Yet our plans have nothing to do with being happy now, because that doesn’t need a plan. Plans, by their very nature, are more concerned with the future.

Plans are about future happy. Sometimes a plan is so ingrained it doesn’t even seem like a plan.

“If I get a good job, then I’ll be happy.” Future.

“If I live to be an old lady, that’s the best thing.” Future.

“When I lose weight I’ll feel self assured and confident.” Future.

“If I sail around the world I’ll feel a sense of accomplishment.” Future.

When things “go wrong,” as in not to plan, it causes us pain—sometimes, great pain. And the reason for the pain is it feels as if happiness has been taken away.

If for your whole life you thought that being active or getting a good job and so on was the way to feel happy, of course you feel badly when you can’t do that.

But the pain is in your incorrect beliefs. Happiness hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, your capacity for happiness is probably growing. All that’s lost is your plan for future happy. But since the future never comes, future happy was never real.

Time and again I meet or hear from people who, in dealing with challenging times, find more real happy. And chances are, if you’re reading this, it’s either happening to you right now or has happened in some way.

Real happy isn’t some, “Wow this is amazing,” kind of feeling, or where everything is easy, but a deeper sense of connectedness—to yourself and others.

Real happy is compassion that comes naturally, even for people you dislike.

Real happy is knowing, deep within you, that everything will be fine; that you can handle whatever comes your way.

Real happy isn’t something that can be taken away either, but builds in increments as you move through life, speeding up during challenging times.

Back then I didn’t know any of this. I just thought my life was worse compared to everyone else. Of course, it was no worse and no better. It just looked different than I expected.

If, by some miracle of time I could speak to me back then, I’d say:

“You simply don’t know how the universe is going to deliver its splendor, but chances are it’ll look different than you thought it would.”

“Sorrow is part of the process; a sign of faulty beliefs being released. Notice your thoughts as they come and go, stand back and let the pain happen if you need to, but know there’s something bigger.”

Knowing me back then, I’d probably still be thinking about my friends and how much I wanted to get back to the real world. (That’s what I used to call it.) So I’d wrap it up by saying:

“It’s easy to look back on your old life as if it were perfect. Or see other people’s life as perfect. But this is an illusion, the same as future happy. See how it feels to have faith in what’s happening now—not in liking it necessarily, but trusting the flow of life.”

My friends got on their bus and I got on mine. They were different buses going different places. These days I try to see time at the “bus stop” as the possibility of a new adventure (and not because I live in L.A!).

And by the way, it wasn’t chewing gum I was sitting on, but a sticky bit of self-esteem I never knew I had. And that interesting smell? Self-acceptance.

July 9, 2013
3 Unconventional Tips for Forgiving and Letting Go

“The greatest obstacle to connecting with our joy is resentment.” ~Pema Chodron

Forgiveness is good, right? I don’t mean in a heal the planet kind of way—I mean in a selfish, me me me kind of way.

We want to let go of our resentments and connect with people genuinely. We want to feel happy and contented, full of love for ourselves and those around us. We want to run, carefree, through the fields in a pretty cotton dress, not sit around in our pajamas, twisted with bitterness.

But how do you experience genuine forgiveness and stop feeling resentful? Because it’s one thing to know it intellectually but another to actually feel it. Like, in your bones.

A few years ago, in an effort to “get over things,” here’s what I did:

I read. I saw a therapist. I journaled. I even did the thing where you write down your hurt feelings, burn the piece of paper, and poof, up they all go.

(I also did the one where you put your “angry feelings” in the freezer to help you calm down.)

And sure. I felt a little better.

But I was a long way from getting out my sundress and Googling “field with long grass to run through.” There was still that nagging thought: if they hadn’t done (blah de blah) then I wouldn’t have to deal with this.

And it’s confusing—if you forgive, does it mean someone’s off the hook?

It’s as if one bit of your brain is saying “It’s all good” and the other bit is saying, “Ah, I don’t think so, mister.” And in a way, this is exactly what is happening.

Trying to forgive someone is like trying to give up smoking; until you change your underlying beliefs it’s almost impossible.

Most smoking cessation campaigns focus on the effects. The images are frightening but they rarely change behavior.

The most successful technique to stop smoking is Allen Carr’s Easy Way to Stop Smoking. It was how Ellen, Ashton, and I quit.

So how does Carr succeed where squillions of health promotion dollars fail?

It’s simple. Carr explains that cigarettes don’t elevate you to some higher plane, like most smokers think. The nicotine just raises you up to where non-smokers are naturally and then drops you back down, almost seconds after your last puff.

The belief at the heart of why smokers don’t want to stop is they’ll miss out on the relaxing feelings. But Carr shows, give up smoking and feeling good becomes the norm. He flips the old belief.

And this is what we need to do when dealing with the slippery fish of forgiveness. We need to flip the beliefs that make it seem difficult.

I used to see forgiveness as something you did. A verb. Now, I see it more as a noun—something that occurs naturally when you understand the truth about your thoughts and feelings.

Here are my 3 Carr-like forgiveness “belief flippers” that have helped me not only let go of hurt feelings but deepen my sense of well-being.

Admittedly, the bigger the hurt, the more challenging this gets. My hunch is these ideas might help the thing you’re trying to let go of.

1. Your thoughts cause your feelings.

A few years ago during an intensely challenging personal time, a good friend of mine told me she no longer wanted to be friends. It touched something deep within me, and for a long time I saw her actions as hurtful.

But then I realized two things:

First, I was being supremely self-centered by not considering what it was like for her.

And second, the real reason I was upset had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me. She hadn’t done anything to me, really, but my “I’m not good enough” radar was going off big time.

My hurt feelings were due to what I thought of myself deep down. (I say “deep down” because not so deep down, I’d convinced myself I was awesome).

If my sense of self-worth had been rock-solid, I would’ve more easily seen her side of things. Yes, I would have missed her, but I wouldn’t have taken it personally and felt heart broken.

Your feelings are the result of what you tell yourself about what happened. It’s your thinking causing your pain.

Which in practical terms means you need to stop blaming others for how you feel.

2. The art of just noticing.

So if thinking is the cause of icky feelings, you should change your thoughts, right? Or at least figure out where they come from?

This is a common belief. But it’s also, I believe, the hardest way. Here’s what I think is a better option:

Rather than try and think a different thought, like gratitude, or even forgiveness, just notice your thoughts without getting caught up in them.

Once I understood I was the creator of my own feelings, this is what I did. And for years, on the odd occasion the topic of my friend came up I’d burst into tears, but always I’d be thinking, “Wow, am I really still working through that?” Almost as if I were a bystander.

And guess what? Over time, my sad feelings lessened and my genuine love grew. Not just for my friend, but for me too.

By not judging my feelings or blaming them on anyone else there’s been a shift in something much bigger—my sense of self worth has got stronger.

It’s not like I don’t get upset anymore. Cripes no. I do. But knowing that my feelings are “my bad,” I rarely take it personally. The sting has gone.

3. Consider that there’s nothing to forgive.

Over the years I’ve thought about the shift that happens when we go from feeling angry and hurt to loving and peaceful.

Are we learning forgiveness or do we simply reach a point where we now see there was nothing to forgive in the first place?

Is forgiveness so tricky because the real “cotton dress running through the fields” feeling we’re after only comes once we realize there’s nothing to forgive??

To help me wrap my head around this I find it helpful to consider the larger picture. As in, outer space large:

I imagine a kinder, wiser and more compassionate version of myself sitting on the moon, perhaps kicking back on a deck chair drinking a margarita with Alice Kramden, looking down and watching, as the earthly me muddles my way through life…

Watching myself hold onto dodgy beliefs and making some epic mistakes.

Watching children around me born into challenging times and how this affects their sense of self-worth and how easily this passes on to others.

Watching us all learning to love ourselves unconditionally—trying, failing, and even succeeding, as we do.

And I figure this wise margarita-drinking self would conclude that everyone in their own unique way was doing their best.

And when you think about it, if everyone’s doing their best, what’s to forgive—doing your best?

Toss around the idea: “Forgiveness is understanding there’s nothing to forgive.” It’s big, but when it sinks in, it really helps. And check this out…

Forgiveness is understanding. There’s nothing to forgive.

Woman begging for forgiveness image via Shutterstock

June 6, 2013
3 Ways to Feel Good When Things Seem Bad

“It isn’t what happens to us that causes us to suffer; it’s what we say to ourselves about what happens.” ~Pema Chodron

Have you ever had something happen in your life that completely changed everything?

Wham. Suddenly you haven’t left your bedroom in days, you can’t remember what it feels like to shower, and it’s clear the only friend you can really count on is your cat.

And whether it’s a major life-suck event or a minor one, the question is: How can I feel contented and calm when things don’t go to plan?

That is what this post is about. Because a while back I had a M. A. J. O. R. Major event. It went like this:

I’d just graduated from college. I had a Masters Degree. In science. Human nutrition science, in case you’re wondering. I was excited about life!

Sure, I had a ridiculous door-to-door research job and my roommate was annoying, but I had plans—I’ll move in with my boyfriend, get a better job, travel, start a family, hang out with all my amazing friends, and live an awesome life.

But then I got sick. The kind of sick where raising your arms above your head makes you want to take a nap. And instead of starting the amazing life I’d planned, I moved home with my parents.

It was a shock, to say the least. Before that, I was tough. I hiked. My friends liked me. I stayed up late. I wasn’t a sick person.

And while my parents are sweet and kind, living in their basement in small town New Zealand, watching daytime re-runs of Dr Quinn Medicine Woman, and hanging out with a fluffy cat called Whisky was not the plan.

It wasn’t so bad at first. But months went by, then years, and it seemed no matter what I did, I was still sick.

I thought, why did this happen to me?

I cried. A lot. For seemingly no reason. And if someone asked why I was crying, I’d say, “I’m just so tired.” I cried so much some days that I’d go home and laugh with my sister on the phone over who I’d cried in front of that day. It was comical.

That was a few years ago now. And, of course, the whole experience turned out to be a huge gift. They often are, in my experience, anyway, but that’s getting ahead of things.

Here are three insights that helped during those “you’ve got to be freaking kidding me” times:

1. There’s a healing side to pain.

When a challenging event happens—a breakup, a sickness, or having your leopard pink car seat covers stolen—the human mind, being what it is, thinks this is why you feel badly.

You hear it all the time: “Oh, you poor thing for losing your car seat covers.” Or, “She’s such a rat to do this to you.”

The truth is, it’s your perception of the situation that makes you feel bad. This means that no matter how crumpled-in and dysfunctional you feel, you’re not. It’s just your thoughts that are a bit wonky. And actually, your thoughts on this were always wonky; the situation just exposed them.

Take my situation. Everything I’d based my self-esteem on was gone: work, grades, friends, boyfriend, the ability to sit up straight for more than half an hour.

I thought I was upset because I was sick, when the truth was, my situation had triggered every negative belief I had about myself. Things like:

“I’m only lovable if people like me.” “I’m only worthwhile if I’m busy doing things.”

I so strongly identified with all the things I did that when you took them away, I felt miserable. I’d been given the opportunity to see what I really thought about myself.

Someone could have told me “you’re worthy and lovable,” and I might have intellectually known this, but I didn’t feel it.

What I began to realize was that behind the pain, over time, my faulty beliefs were shifting. My sense of self-worth was beginning to heal by itself.

The pain is the faulty belief system being ripped out by its roots. You feel like you’re losing something dear. The trick is to understand that it’s just a faulty belief going away. And beneath it lays a pocket of self-love that you haven’t previously been able to access.

As poet Kahlil Gibran says, “Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.”

2. Pain fades when we let go of expectations.

Most of us live in an intellectual way. We make plans for our life and then we try and follow them through. We think we know the best way for our life to proceed.

The truth is, a large part of our pain is caused by an attachment to our expectations.

For example, one of the reasons I felt so bone achingly sorry for myself was because I had a plan for how to have a good life—and it didn’t include Dr. Quinn.

I thought success came from going to college, getting a good job, and having a family. No one said anything about spending all this time in bed. But actually, it was the best thing for me.

To illustrate you how powerful your expectations are, try this exercise:

First, imagine you’re me.

Now, imagine you’d grown up thinking the best way to have an awesome life was to spend five years in bed cross-stitching cushions. That it was something everyone did.

“Oh yeah,” you’d say to your friend, “I’m just off to do my five-years-in-bed years.”

And they’d be like, “Oh cool. I hear you learn such amazing things, like how to feel self-assured, and you get clarity on your life direction, and you start to feel that inner calm we’re always reading about.”

Seriously.

Now think about your current situation and imagine that for your whole life, you believed that what is happening to you was going to happen. And not only that, but it’s the absolute best thing to happen.

So much of the pain we feel is because we can’t let go of how we think life should look. Your mind thinks it knows the best way for your life to work out—but simply put, it doesn’t; the plan it had was flawed in the first place.

Your mind can only see your life as it’s showing up right now. There is a bigger picture.

3. You’re doing fine.

Learning about personal awareness and healing can be such a helpful thing, but remember, there’s no right or wrong way to feel.

Feeling grateful and “being positive” and so on is perfectly fine, and sure, it can be helpful, but if you don’t feel like it all the time, don’t worry about it.

Instead of attaching a judgment to how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking, try just noticing it.

I believe the act of simply noticing and accepting how things are, right now—no matter how messy and dysfunctional they seem—is the most powerful, healing thing you can do.

Photo by Dahl-Face Photography

April 22, 2013
3 Reasons to Stop Trying So Hard to Be Positive and Peaceful

“Freedom is instantaneous the moment we accept things as they are.” ~Karen Maezen Miller

The world is filled with people who work hard at being positive, peaceful, and more spiritual and then feel bad when they don’t measure up. I know because I used to be one of them. And I still am from time to time.

That was before I realized something:

1 It doesn’t work.

2. Spirituality isn’t something you do; it’s something you are, and you are this right now. Just as beneath the chatter of your mind you are already positive and peaceful too.

3. You are already as spiritual as you’ll ever be.

There, article done: My views on trying to be more spiritual.

Well, okay, there’s more to it than this. Let’s back up—starting with a confession or two.

Confession 1: It’s after midday, I’m still in bed, and all I’ve eaten today is cheese.

(That was more like a warm-up confession; I mean, who doesn’t stay in bed with half a block of cheese from time to time? And in all fairness to myself, it was a small block.)

Confession 2: I try hard, at everything—or at least most things.

(My husband made me add the last bit because he said I don’t always try hard when we play backgammon.)

But seriously, or at least half seriously, if there were a lecture on How to Relax More and Not Try So Hard, I’d be in the front row, my hand in the air, with half a dozen questions. I might even take notes and record the lecture so I could listen at home.

For me, “trying hard” has been a badge.

We believe that if we’re successful, whatever success looks like in our sphere of influence, we’ll he happy and loved.

We’re all ‘’try hards”—we all do it; it’s a universal condition. Your trying will look different to my trying, but it’s all the same. (more…)

January 20, 2013
How to Maintain a Healthy Relationship When You’re Depressed

“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun, like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.” ~Fred Rogers

When you’re depressed, your perception about many things changes—so how does this affect your relationships?

I’m thinking about this today, because—drum roll, please—I’m a little depressed.

Now, I’m not depressed in the suicidal “I want to drive off the road” kind of way, but in the far less dramatic but still deeply unpleasant “mild to moderate” kind of way.

For me, one of the most challenging aspects to feeling like this is that I don’t feel as connected as I normally do—with my friends, the world in general, and with my beautiful, kind, sweet, smart, sexy husband.

And this isn’t specific to me; this is what depression is, a lack of feeling.

When you’re depressed, you can’t access feelings of self-love. And since the love you feel for others is a reflection of the love you feel for yourself, this is why you feel disconnected.

You have an intellectual understanding of the love you have for your girlfriend/mother/sister/boyfriend, but you can’t feel it as much as you normally do.

Years ago, during a time when I was depressed, crying, and unhappy, a friend told me, “I can see you’re still feeling something, so you can’t be too depressed.”

And it’s true. The more depressed you are, the quieter your heart is. It’s like a continuum.

It’s not like you don’t have all the feelings in you; you just can’t feel them right now. Just in case you’re tempted to worry about not having feelings.

And this can be a problem in a relationship. One day you’re connected to yourself, and therefore your partner too, and the next day you don’t feel connected to anything.

When you’re depressed, you misread situations; you perceive others as being critical of you. (more…)

December 9, 2012
Understanding and Lifting Depression: 5 Helpful Attitudes

“We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.” ~Charles R. Swindoll

People almost always misunderstand depression. I know I used to.

My first dance with depression happened fifteen years ago. I was in my early twenties and it totally freaked me out.

When you’re depressed, your perception of pretty much everything changes.

Except you don’t realize that it’s your perception that’s changed, and instead it feels like the world has turned bad. If you’ve been depressed you’ll know what I’m talking about.

It goes something like this …

One day you feel confident and happy, and then the next day, ugh!

All the ideas and plans you have now seem ridiculous, your thoughts become morbid, and boy do you feel sluggish and sleepy, and why (yawn) is your boyfriend/friend/parent/spouse being so critical and mean all of a sudden?

And if that’s not enough, the world seems more abrasive—as if someone’s turned up the volume and taken off your sunglasses.

This is what happened to me. I cried. I felt sorry for myself. And I couldn’t for the life of me understand why I felt so bad: I had loads of friends and an awesome boyfriend; I’d recently been accepted into a post graduate masters degree program for human nutrition.

Life was good. Or it would be if I only could stop crying!

Finally I went to the doctor, which made me feel better because the doctor told me I had a chemical imbalance in my brain; but then she told me I was “depressed,” which made me cry again since I thought depression was for negative people with no plans for their life.

So that was that. I was depressed. I had an illness. I took the medication and kind of, sort of started to feel better.

But after a year things started to change. I don’t remember why I started doing this—maybe I read it somewhere—but I stopped taking antidepressants, and whenever a “flat” period would come I’d watch it with as much distance as I could summon.

I started to notice that if I just let the “flatness” be and stopped worrying about it, my perception about something would shift, and as it did, the depression would lift.

The more times this happened, the more I began to trust that it was going to happen. And always, there standing on the other side of the flatness, was an understanding that made my life richer, less stressful, and more pleasant, well worth the ticket of entry.

Back then I had very little sense of self-care. I pretty much treated myself like a machine—a friendly, do anything for anyone, study-hard, play-hard machine. (more…)

August 21, 2012