Tiny Buddha

Author: Will Aylward

  • The 3 Ms That Help Me Cope with Seasonal Depression

    The 3 Ms That Help Me Cope with Seasonal Depression

    “The word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” ~Carl Jung

    My two-year-old son looked up at me with his big, blue, beautiful eyes.

    He wanted me to play. I took a toy car in my hand and rolled it along the wooden living room floor we were both sitting on, making an enthusiastic VROOM as I did it. He smiled. He appreciated my effort at sound effects.

    The streetlights standing on the road outside our living room window were already glowing warmly, even though it was barely 4:30 p.m. and the sky was black.

    I miss the summer evenings, I sighed to myself.

    I stared up and out at the darkness briefly before Henry demanded my attention and I found myself looking down, playing cars again. I smiled up at him, doing my best to appear happy. To make him feel like I was enjoying playing cars with him.

    The truth is, I didn’t feel enjoyment playing with him.

    For a few weeks at this point I hadn’t felt much enjoyment from anything.

    I was going through the motions. Attending to my familial and professional responsibilities as best I could. All the while, longing to be back in bed so I could sleep. Except, upon waking up, I never felt fully rested. I was instantly greeted by the same familiar feelings of fogginess, emptiness, and numbness.

    Every morning as I got dressed, it felt like I was dressing myself in armor. Like the knights would wear in the movies I watched as a boy. A heavy metal armor that made the simplest of movements, like getting out of bed in the morning and playing cars with my son, feel like a battle that required all the strength I could muster.

    I’ve suffered from seasonal affective disorder, a type of depression, for all of my adult life, but the winter of 2021 was the worst episode to date.

    I put it down to a combination of sleep deprivation from being a parent to a toddler (I now understand why sleep deprivation is used as a torture technique), ongoing physical and mental challenges with long COVID, and uncertainty around whether I’d see family over the Christmas period due to lockdown restrictions.

    As the darker days descend, I’m preparing myself for another potential battle.

    I know I don’t need to fight this battle alone, so I’ll be calling on my friends and family to support me, as well as working with a therapist who formerly helped me process my experience.

    There were three focuses that helped me get through the depressive episode last year. Here they are, the 3 Ms.

    1. Mindfulness

    Writer Rolf Dobelli suggests that we are two selves—the remembering self and the experiencing self.

    Our remembering self is our story—who we think we are based on our past. My remembering self tells me I’m English, I love a double espresso, and have a history of anxiety and depression.

    My experiencing self is different. My experiencing self is the me who is here, right now.

    Experiencing myself writing.

    Aware of the tapping sound my fingers make as they dance along the keyboard as I type.

    Aware that my heart is beating slightly faster than usual, probably due to the chocolate I scarfed down a few minutes ago.

    Aware of feeling vulnerable as I write about seasonal affective disorder.

    Our experiencing self exists moment to moment, whereas the remembering self only exists in the past, through thought.

    This idea was helpful to me during my 2021 depressive episode because it reminded me that I’m more than a depressed person (which would be a story from my remembering self); I’m a person who feels a lot of sadness, as well as many other feelings and emotions, some that feel comfortable, some that feel uncomfortable.

    Back then, I’d take time each day to practice a mindfulness meditation. Sitting for five minutes, simply observing how I was feeling, importantly, without judgment.

    Noticing what my mind was focusing on, as well as bringing awareness to my emotional state and breath.

    I’d cultivate an attitude of compassion toward myself, avoiding firing the second arrow that’s taught in Buddhism, and not feeling bad for feeling bad.

    I’d simply accept how I felt in the moment and allow myself to feel sad, helpless, and hopeless, without judgment, knowing that my feelings are always fleeting.

    2. Meaning

    The second M that helped me was meaning.

    We’re told the meaning of life is to be happy. But there are going to be periods when we’re simply not going to feel happy. This doesn’t have to mean our life becomes meaningless; instead, it’s in our moments of unhappiness that it’s best to focus on what brings our life meaning.

    Even though I don’t always enjoy playing cars with my son, raising him and spending time with him and his mum gives my life tremendous meaning.

    Some mornings last winter I didn’t feel like getting up, and if I lived alone, I probably would have stayed in bed. But knowing my son and wife were depending on me, I felt a sense of duty to show up and be the best dad and husband I could be given my struggles.

    I showed compassion toward myself by not believing any thoughts saying I needed to be perfect. Instead of choosing to feel ashamed for how I felt, which would make me feel like withdrawing, choosing self-compassion helped me to tackle my various responsibilities but also be realistic and not over-commit.

    It meant honest communication and being okay with doing less than I normally would. I made a Top Ten Actions List by asking myself, what are the most important actions to take today to look after myself and address my responsibilities?

    I also made a list of all the people, places, and activities that give my life meaning and breathe life into my soul and aimed to dedicate time toward them each day. Having a clear and achievable focus was helpful, and as the depression slowly lifted, I was able to return to my normal level of action.

    3. Moments of Joy

    Like the streetlamp I watched glowing warmly from my living window, there were moments during the depressive episode that pierced through the surrounding darkness.

    The sound of my son’s laughter as he chuckled hysterically.

    Feeling the peace and stillness of the forest on my walk.

    Being reunited with friends after lockdown and catching up over a coffee.

    The wisest words I’ve ever heard were these: Look for the good in your life, and you’ll see the good in your life.

    This isn’t a matter of positive thinking—it’s a matter of acknowledgement.

    Even on the days when my mood was at its lowest, there were a handful of joyous moments shaking me temporarily from my depressed state and waking me up to the truth that even on the darkest of nights, there are lights shining for us.

    These lights, the people and events bringing joy to our life, are little beacons of hope, reasons to be appreciative. And basking in their warmth momentarily can keep us trudging along in the darkness until, hopefully, a day arrives when it lifts and the sun rises again.

    At the end of each day last winter, I’d take a minute to write down any joyous moments and bask in their warmth again as I revisited them in my mind.

    —

    The most challenging aspect of depression is how it tries to convince us that not only is everything bad, but everything will stay bad permanently.

    Through focusing on mindfulness, meaning, and moments of joy, fortunately, I was able to see again that this isn’t true.

  • How Changing My Words Changed My Life for the Better

    How Changing My Words Changed My Life for the Better

    “Our words create our world.” ~Rich Litvin

    I remember when I was about seven years old, shouting spitefully at my mum, ‘’I wish you were dead, I hate you!” Her jaw dropped in disbelief, and I knew my words had hurt her, which made my young heart heavy.

    I remember being fourteen years old asking my first crush, “H-h-hey, do you fancy going to the cinema with me this weekend? To my surprise, she said yes, which taught me there’s never any harm in asking for what you want.

    Later this year, I’ll be standing proudly next to my beautiful almost-wife saying the words, “I do.” With those two simple little words, I’ll convey my love and commitment to her.

    Words are powerful.

    They have the potential to hurt and destroy and to enhance and create.

    Since embracing this truth a few years ago, I’ve become more mindful of the words I use. That is, the words I speak and the words I think.

    Here are four ways I’ve changed my words and as a result changed my life.

    1. Swapping “I’ll try” for “I can, and I will.”

    Back when I felt stuck in life, I was always trying.

    Trying to lose weight.

    Trying to get out of debt.

    Trying to get my life back together.

    It struck me that, in all the areas of my life I was trying to change, I wasn’t having much success.

    I then looked at an area of my life I felt fulfilled in: my social life.

    Partying all weekend every weekend was the perfect escapism I needed.

    Drinking and partying masked my anxiety, making me forget about my money woes temporarily, and gave me the self-confidence I lacked when sober.

    Interestingly, when friends asked me if I would be out at the weekend, I never replied, “I’ll try and make it.”

    No! It was always, “I’ll be there! See you in the club, the first round is on me!”

    Upon recognizing this pattern, I made a new rule for myself: to swap “I’ll try” with “I can or “I will.”

    To no surprise, I started seeing improvements in my life. By saying “I can, and I will,” I somehow felt stronger and in control of my destiny.

    My confidence grew too. I used to say to my gym buddy, “I’ll try to get to the gym on Thursday,” only to cancel last minute (having never really intended to go), and then beat myself up for it.

    Thinking in terms of “I can/I will” gently forced me to be more decisive. I would then say “I will see you there” or “I will let you know by Tuesday.” If Tuesday came around and another commitment was more of a priority, I could communicate this clearly and without feeling bad for cancelling last minute. Switching from “try” to “can/will” caused me to ask, “What do I want to be committed to?”

    The word “try” does still have a place in my vocabulary. I can call a restaurant on a Friday afternoon to try to get a reservation for the evening.

    My rule is simple: I’ll never try to do something that’s in my full control.

    It’s possible I could call the restaurant and they’re fully booked. The outcome is not in my control.

    For anything that is in my control—exercising, writing, waking up early—I now use “I can” or “I will.”

    2. Ask better questions.

    Why am I so stuck?

    When my anxiety, debt, and drinking were at their worst and I finally felt it was time for a change, this question stuck in my head for several days.

    The answers I got were less than helpful…

    Because you’re a loser.

    Because you’ve got no discipline.

    Because life is hard.

    After several days of soul-searching and fed up with my lousy answers, ironically, a better question came to me: What if I’m asking myself the wrong question?

    I closed my eyes and asked my mind to give me a better one.

    What can I do today to move forward a little?

    For the next few months, this became my question of choice. And each day, I moved forward just a little more, focusing on progress over perfection and solutions rather than the problem.

    As Tony Robbins says, “Quality questions create a quality life. Successful people ask better questions, and as a result, they get better answers.”

    3. Saying “I get to” instead of “I have to.”

    Two years ago, I was on a Skype call with a good friend from Canada.

    We connect every now and again and share what we’ve been working on, and it’s always very high-energy and inspiring!

    He shared with me the idea of “I have to” vs “I get to.”

    “Anytime you wish to feel grateful, change your ‘I have to’ statements into ‘I get to’,” he said.

    Like many new ideas I hear, it sounded good at the time but, to be honest, I soon forgot about it.

    A few days passed and I was leaving the house to go meet a student. At the time, I was teaching English to non-native speakers, and every Monday evening I would travel across town to where this guy lived.

    It was quite a hot day and leaving the house, I wasn’t looking forward to the sixty-minute walk. I became aware of the dialogue in my mind…

    “Urgh, I have to walk across town to go teach English.”

    Suddenly, the conversation with my friend came flooding back to me, so I decided to change my train of thought.

    “I get to walk across town to go and teach English.”

    Wow, gratitude hit me hard and in a way I’d never felt before.

    For the first time in a very long time, I felt gratitude for my legs, for the fact that I’m fit and healthy enough to walk!

    Not only that, I felt gratitude for my student, who I got to spend time with each week so I could help him improve his English—a privilege I had overlooked before.

    It’s always important to me to honor how I feel, meaning if I am feeling tired or unmotivated that’s okay. Often, though, changing my “have to” statements to “I get to” is the switch I need to change my perspective and my mood.

    4. Swapping the punisher for the cheerleader

    Perhaps the biggest change I’ve made is shifting my internal voice from a punisher to a cheerleader.

    Like a lot of people, I was painfully strict with myself and overly critical.

    I’d speak to myself harshly whenever I failed.

    When I felt weak I’d judge myself for feeling that way.

    I would beat myself up for always beating myself up!

    Self-compassion was at the heart of making this switch. Speaking to myself in a gentler, more supportive tone. Less dictator and more supportive grandparent.

    With some practice, I began to respond to failure with words of encouragement.

    When I felt weak, I’d offer myself understanding and empathy.

    If I beat myself up, I’d forgive myself and move on.

    I read somewhere that as important as what we say to ourselves inside our heads is how we speak to ourselves, the tone of voice we use. The author encouraged me to imagine the most understanding, compassionate, and gentle voice imaginable and talk to myself in this voice.

    This has been a real game-changer.

    Louise Hay said, “You’ve been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.”

    I’ve been amazed by what’s happened. Since approving of myself, I’ve relied less on approval from others, which has been liberating, and I’ve given myself full permission to live how I want to live, since approving of myself also means approving of my wants and choices.

    —

    Part of me wishes I had realized the power of my words long before I did.

    Part of me knows I discovered that our words create our world at exactly the right time I was supposed to.

    No matter what age we are or where we are on our journey, I believe, it’s never too late to change our words—and change our world.

  • Put Down Your Phone: Why Presence Is the Best Gift You’ll Ever Give

    Put Down Your Phone: Why Presence Is the Best Gift You’ll Ever Give

    “When you love someone, the best thing you can offer is your presence. How can you love if you are not there?” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    The only thing worse than not listening to someone is pretending to listen.

    Giving the vague murmur of agreement, or a quick nod to communicate “Yes, I’m listening, totally,” when really, we’re not.

    I remember vividly a dinner I had with friends about four years ago. I’d been backpacking in New Zealand for twelve months and had just returned to the UK. Traveling in the car to my friend’s house, I imagined how the night would look…

    There would be lots of laughter (it was always side-splitting when we all got together).

    There would be lots of hugging (I hadn’t seen them for a whole year after all).

    There would be lots of storytelling (I would get to share my epic adventure).

    Did all of this happen? To some extent, yes, but not how I had imagined.

    In fact, I left feeling a little miffed, a little gutted.

    At first, I couldn’t work out why.

    My friends were the same old fun-to-be-around people.

    Despite ‘finding myself’ while traveling (I joke), I felt I was pretty much the same old person.

    So what was different?

    It hit me.

    The constant. Mobile. Phones.

    The entire evening was tainted by endless selfies, videos, status updates, incoming phone calls, outgoing phone calls, and notifications.

    Distraction after distraction after distraction.

    There were moments you could have heard a pin drop as the four of us, faces illuminated by the glow of the mobile phones, sat, hands glued to our devices. Ironically, telling anyone who was on Facebook and Instagram that night what a terrific time we were having.

    To begin with, I was angry with my friends. But soon I realized I was really angry with myself. I was equally guilty, and people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones after all.

    What could have been, rather, what should have been, an evening of being deeply present with one another, each one of us offering our full and undivided attention, was tainted by technology, spoiled by social media, marred by meddling mobiles.

    Backpacking was more campfires and deep life conversations below the stars, so this evening was felt like a return to reality. Most of us struggle to put our flipping phones down.

    If we stop and think about it, what message does it send to the human beings in front of us when we are busy on our phones?

    I made a vow that evening to get better at this, to be more present with friends and family, anyone I’m communicating with.

    I didn’t want to make anyone feel how I felt that evening—unheard and unimportant.

    Zoom forward to today and, well, I’m much better but far from perfect.

    Technology certainly is a huge barrier to presence, but it’s not the main culprit.

    The main culprit lives between our ears, the mind.

    The mind is a lot like a talking alarm clock, and you have no control over when it goes off and what it will say.

    For example, I can be sitting face to face with someone, physically a few centimeters in distance, but consciously, a world away.

    Instead of listening to what the person sitting across from us is saying, we listen to our thoughts.

    Hey, did I leave the oven on this morning when I left the house?

    I hope my breath doesn’t stink.

    Why is that stranger in the corner laughing—is my underwear tucking into my shirt?

    Or literally, anything else. Anything. Any other thought can pop up at any moment, pulling my focus momentarily away from the person in front of me.

    Luckily for us, people can’t always be certain when we’re not being fully present with them, especially if we’re an expert fake listener, able to give a very convincing response like “Yeah, sure, I get you.” Occasionally, I sense that the person I’m talking to senses I haven’t been listening. I feel bad and forgive myself for being human, before returning to the conversation.

    On the other hand, when someone is really listening to us, fully present with us in the moment, we can be certain. Without a doubt, because we feel it.

    It’s tough to put such moments into words, but you just know.

    Moments when we’re fully present with someone and it’s reciprocated, it’s like magic, like the rest of the world fades into the background. Like the first time you fall in love and you just feel connected; you feel the dance of communication, the resonating, the synchronicity, the oneness.

    That’s it. This, for me, is what presence is all about. The oneness.

    A few of my favorite ways to get present and cultivate oneness are:

    Eye contact

    The eyes truly are the windows to the soul. Giving eye contact really lets people know they’re being heard.

    Listening to understand instead of listening to respond

    We’re stuck in our heads if we’re listening purely to plan our response. Tuning into a person’s words and also how they say the words has greatly helped me to connect with people.

    Limiting distractions.

    Technology, off. The world can wait.

    Remember the good old days when only landline phones existed and if you weren’t at home people would leave a message and patiently wait for a response? Bliss. Nowadays, we’re available on mobile, Facebook, Messenger, Instagram, Snapchat, email… the list goes on. Flight mode is my friend. Anytime I want to get present, flight mode is activated.

    Facial expressions.

    When I really listen to someone, I find I empathize with them so much more. Naturally my facial expressions will reflect this, communicating I understand how they’re feeling. We all wish to feel understood.

    In a few weeks’ time, I’ll be flying back to the UK to spend time with my family. In fact, this will be the first Christmas in six years we’ll all be together (my dear parents, older sister, younger brother, and me).

    A part of me is sad knowing that around the world, there will be families sitting in their living rooms, surrounded by their nearest and dearest, but not really being there.

    Distracted either by their own minds, their mobiles, or maybe their new presents.

    It doesn’t have to be like this. Board games can be played and conversations can be had, with presence, together.

    In truth, we needn’t wait until the holidays to connect in this way, as any moment, any conversation, offers a chance to be present with each other. But the holidays, for me, really are prime opportunities.

    To be surrounded by the ones we love most and be with them more than just physically, but emotionally and spirituality too, well, this is worth more than any gift you’ll give or receive this year. This holiday season, give presence.

  • 7 Ways Running Helps Me Live My Best Life

    7 Ways Running Helps Me Live My Best Life

    “I don’t run to add days to my life, I run to add life to my days.” ~Ronald Rook

    Growing up, I was always a bit on the tubby side, or, as my mum would say, “stocky.”

    Old and grainy camcorder footage from the early nineties shows me at four years old, waddling sassily around the garden naked on a summer’s day. Watching the nostalgic home footage recently, I thought to myself, “Wow, I had a beer belly long before I began drinking beer.”

    Apart from a couple of years playing football in my teens, competitive sports and exercise were not a huge part of my life—unless we count the frequent visits to the Chinese buffets with friends, when things got competitive as we shovelled down plate after plate to see who could eat the most.

    Last year, however, after an inspiring conversation with a keen runner, my sedentary days were over.

    The man was in his forties and an ultra-runner—meaning he ran distances greater than a regular marathon (26.2 miles). I became curious as he told me about a recent 100-mile running event, and wondered to myself, why would you put yourself through that, by choice? What does one get out of this running malarkey?

    Having well and truly caught the running bug, I can now say I get it.

    It’s well known that running is beneficial to our health and fitness, but I get so much more from the experience. Here are seven ways running helps me live my best life.

    1. Through running, I take control from my mind.

    Wouldn’t you rather stay at home and watch Netflix?

    You’re not built for running!

    Who do you think you are, Forrest Gump?

    Ah, the mind.

    On days I normally run, I can guarantee thoughts like these will surface, luring me to stay in my comfort zone so they can try and shame me later on for not running.

    Don’t get me wrong, there are days where the kind thing to do is to cancel a run—if I’m hurting physically or it’s too hot—but that’s not usually why I encounter internal resistance before and while running.

    C’mon, that’s fair enough for today, my mind whispers.

    “No, we’re digging deeper and going further,” I reply.

    Our minds will always try to hold us back, but we don’t have to act on every thought. We can become more aware of when our mind is attempting to limit us, and, if we want to, dig deep and keep moving forward.

    2. Running reminds me that the hardest part of any worthy pursuit is just starting.

    Once I’m outside and running, the initial resistance disappears, and I just get on with it. I’ve never, after two minutes of running, turned around and headed home.

    This speaks to an interesting truth—so often in life, the hardest part of any worthy pursuit is just starting. If you want to write a book, the hardest part is sitting down to capture those first few words. If you need to initiate a difficult conversation, the hardest part is finding the courage to say, “Hey, we need to talk.”

    On days when my mind creates resistance and begins a battle, I gently remind myself the hardest part is putting my running shoes on and heading out the door. Once I’m through the door, I’ve won the battle—and I almost always enjoy myself.

    3. Running reminds me to keep my head up and keep moving forward.

    A few weeks ago while on a run, exhaustion suddenly hit me. My head dropped. My pace slowed, and my legs felt like they were stuffed full of lead. A feeling of dread slowly sunk through my body as I imagined the distance I was yet to cover.

    I knew, though, I was hitting “runner’s wall,” and remembered the Navy SEAL’s 40% rule—that even though I briefly felt exhausted, I’d only reached 40% of my potential.

    I took a deep breath before slowly raising my head up so my eyes were no longer looking at the ground. I was now looking straight ahead, my eyes fixed on where I wanted to go, the path ahead. Inside my head I repeated, “Left, right, left, right,” over and over again, commanding my feet. And then I ran.

    When life hits us hard, it’s normal for our heads to drop down, but we can’t let them stay down. Moving forward may seem impossible, but eventually there comes a day when we have to dig deep and find the courage to take a step forward, no matter how small.

    As Winston Churchill said, “When you’re going through hell, keep on going.”

    4. Running helps me appreciate my body.

    Sadly, the media pushes down our throats what a “perfect” body looks like, and most of us don’t have it. As a result, many people view exercise as a punishment. A punishment for being out of shape or for eating overeating the day before.

    Exercise of any form needn’t be a punishment. In fact, we can view it as a celebration of our body as it is.

    When I finish a run, I thank my body for a job well done. I’m fortunate enough to have good health and a functional body, a blessing not everyone has.

    A friend of mine suffers from a chronic health condition, and although his body is extremely limited compared to most, he’s chooses to live life being appreciative of what his body does enable him to do. For example, he can’t finish long hikes, but he’s grateful that he can walk at all—and that he has friends who’ll carry him the rest of the way when he has to stop.

    5. Running emphasizes the importance of rest and recovery.

    Since running, I’ve become kinder to myself and more accepting of my need to take time to rest and recover. Once home from a run, I normally do some light stretches before taking it easy for the rest of the day, because I’ve learned that I need to give my body a break or it will eventually break down.

    I used to believe rest and recovery made we weak and it was in someway honorable to keep myself busy all day, every day. I now believe there’s a time to push ourselves while in doing mode and a time for simply being, and both are equally important to our overall well-being.

    6. Running has taught me that what I consume makes a difference.

    Since starting to run, I’m now far more aware of what I’m consuming, both physically and mentally.

    I feel the difference when I’ve been eating well and am hydrated versus when I run on a belly full of junk food and dehydrated. What we put into our mouth really matters.

    I believe it also matters what we put into our heads—the types of media we consume. I once spent an entire forest run on high alert, looking over my shoulder ever second step. Why? Before leaving home, I’d read a local news item about a Puma that had escaped from a zoo 100 miles away. Although logically I knew it was highly unlikely I’d cross paths with this runaway Puma, it didn’t stop my mind from freaking out at every rustle in the bushes.

    On the hand, when I read or watch an inspiring story before leaving home, I notice a spring in my step and feel empowered as I run.

    If the media I consume affects my life (either positively or negatively) in the short-term, just imagine the affect is has in the long-term. What we consume matters.

    7. Running reminds me of what’s possible.

    Perhaps the biggest way running helps me to live my best life is through showing me what is possible. I can now run farther than I ever thought I could, way further than my doubtful inner critic would have predicted.

    I’ve gone from being someone who would rarely (and barely) run to someone who runs several times per week. Most of all, I’ve gone from being someone who hated even the thought of running to someone who looks forward to and, dare I say, loves, running. And if I can transform into a runner, just imagine what else I can do.

    Do I think running is for everyone? No.

    However, I do believe that everyone can benefit from my lessons. Don’t let your mind control you. If there’s something you want to do, just get started, even if you only take a tiny step. When things get tough, keep going. Appreciate what you can do instead of focusing on what you can’t. Take time to rest; it’s not lazy, it’s necessary. Be mindful of what you consume and how it affects you. And remember, you can do so much more than you think.

  • What I Believe and Why My Life Is Better Because of It

    What I Believe and Why My Life Is Better Because of It

    “Seeing is not believing; believing is seeing! You see things, not as they are, but as you are.” ~Eric Butterworth

    I didn’t always understand this, but I now know that my beliefs shape my experience of the world.

    As I learned from Tony Robbins, our beliefs guide our choices, which ultimately create our results.

    Our beliefs can either be a prison, keeping us trapped in negative thinking and behaviors, or they can be empowering and lead to courageous action and new possibilities.

    For example, if you believe people are fundamentally bad, you may live life guarded, close yourself off to new relationships, and end up feeling lonely and bitter.

    If you believe people are fundamentally good, you’ll try to see the best in them, develop close bonds with some of them, and end up feeling connected and supported, even if people occasionally disappoint you.

    If you believe good things never happen for you and they never will, you’ll likely sit around feeling indignant and never make any effort.

    If you believe the past doesn’t have to dictate the future, you’ll probably keep trying different things and eventually create possibilities for passion and purpose.

    Same world, different beliefs, different choices—totally different results.

    Knowing that I can choose what I believe, and that this can either fill my life with meaning or leave me feeling empty, I choose to believe the following:

    1. Life happens for me, not to me.

    “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.” ~Steve Jobs

    Sometimes, it’s near impossible for me to believe this. I don’t expect anyone reading this to easily adopt this belief either. Because in those moments of pain and suffering, boy, it feels like life is happening to me, and it’s not even remotely helpful to think about how life could be happening for me. However, in time, as the clouds disperse and the pain passes, I’m able to look back and connect the dots.

    Were it not for my mental health struggles, my personal development journey may have never began and I would never have grown into the strong person I am today.

    Were it not for my string of failed romantic relationships, I never would have learned the power of loving myself first.

    And although I sometimes struggle to see that life is happening for me, a deeper part of me knows it benefits me to believe this is true.

    This deeper part encourages me to look back and connect the dots, and sometimes, in the midst of suffering, look for meaning in the moment by asking questions like: What lesson could this be teaching me? And what is the opportunity here?

    This deeper part of me knows that, no matter what happens to me, I can choose the meaning I give to what’s happening and how I respond.

    As Viktor E. Frankl wrote in his book Man’s Search for Meaning, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

    When I believe life is happening to me, I feel like a helpless victim. Although there is no shame in feeling like a victim, I don’t want this to become my full-time identity.

    Undeniably, life is hard, cruel, and tragic, but life is also beautiful. By choosing to believe life happens for me, I’m sometimes able to move from victim to victor.

    2. More is possible than I currently think.

    “Just remember, you never know what’s possible until you risk finding out.” ~Jasinda Wilder

    When it comes to knowing what’s possible for me in my lifetime, I know nothing.

    How could I? How could anybody else? Knowing requires me to be certain, and I know I’m certain more is possible than I think.

    Human history teaches us the boundaries of possibility are forever being pushed. Or perhaps, it’s more accurate to say that our willingness to discover what is possible is forever being pushed.

    Just think about how many Ideas were once considered impossible, even crazy!

    Electricity, the Internet, putting humans on the moon!

    As I look back over my own life, much has happened that at some point I thought was impossible, like speaking another language and being able to play the piano reasonably well.

    This belief empowers me because it makes life feel like a never-ending adventure, a game, where I get to discover and challenge the boundaries of possibility for myself.

    3. My life is about “we,” not just “me.”

    “As we lose ourselves in the service of others we discover our own lives and our own happiness.” ~Dieter F. Uchtdorf

    A wise friend of mine once advised me to “give away freely the very things I wish to receive.”

    At the time, it seemed counterproductive. I mean, to give money even though I want to receive more. To offer praise to others when it was me who wanted to be praised. To make an effort to be more understanding when it was me who wished to feel understood.

    Having faith in my friend, I decided to live life this way for a while, and so I gave away freely the very things I wished to receive without any expectations or hypotheses of what would happen.

    I gave more money—to the homeless and sponsoring friends for events.

    I gave praise—reaching out to people I love and admire, just to share my appreciation of them.

    I gave my ear—listening non-judgmentally so I could better understand people.

    I gave and gave and gave, and true to my friend’s advice, I received—so much more than what I’d given away.

    I received a sense of connection to the world and to the people in it, a deeper connection than I’d ever felt before. I realized the idea of separation is, as spiritual teachers often suggest, an Illusion. We’re all connected to one another—tied together by something the eye can’t see but the heart can feel.

    Through giving, through living in service of others, I received back abundantly, which helped me to form my third empowering belief, that life is about “we” and not just “me.”

    What makes my belief so empowering is the sense of connection that comes from knowing my life is connected to yours and to every other life, tied and woven by forces greater than I know or understand.

    This sense of connection alone gives my life meaning.

    —

    My life is better because I choose to believe these three things, and I act on them. Which beliefs make your life better?

  • 3 Steps I Took to Reinvent Myself When I Felt Stuck and Unfulfilled

    3 Steps I Took to Reinvent Myself When I Felt Stuck and Unfulfilled

    “It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.” ~Patrick Rothfuss

    Who am I?

    I believe this is one of the hardest questions we can ever answer.

    I began to ponder this tough question in my early twenties during what I refer to as my “early-life crisis.”

    Man, I was stuck. Stuck working in an unfulfilling job. Stuck in ever-growing debt because of my bad habits of drinking and smoking. Stuck feeling anxious and unconfident. I woke up each day and felt as if I was just going through the motions. Powerless. I was a puppet, and life was a cruel puppeteer.

    Each night, I’d escape into the world of adventure movies and momentarily distract myself from my struggles. My personal favorites were Forest Gump and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I didn’t realize it at the time, but as I look back, I see that the heroes in these movies taught me an important truth: Our identities are not fixed, and we can, in fact, reinvent ourselves.

    Here are the three steps I took to do just that.

    1. Recognize that I am more than my labels

    My struggles began when I left formal education. After identifying as a student for so many years, I suddenly found myself in the “real world.”

    It felt as if a rug had been pulled from beneath my feet. What now?

    I fell into an office job working as an insurance salesman. My intuition told me the job wasn’t a good fit for me, but I lacked clarity on what my purpose was and who I really was.

    Then one day, I was reminded of a quote I’d heard from Steven Fry. It reads, “We are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing—an actor, a writer. I am a person who does things—I write, I act—and I never know what I’m going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun.”

    It was strangely liberating, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I had the realization that I am not a noun.

    My label of “insurance salesman” didn’t have to define me. Neither did any other labels I’d given myself or had been given.

    My doctor had labeled me as “anxious.” I’d labeled myself as “stuck.” But “anxious” and “stuck” were simply feelings and not who I was. From this moment I changed “I am anxious and stuck” to “I feel anxious and stuck,” and in making this change I transformed from identifying as the experience to the experiencer.

    This is who I believe we truly are. The experiencer. We’re not our labels, our thoughts, our feelings, our past, or our life situation; we are the powerful experiencer of it all.

    By recognizing that I was not my labels, it was as if I’d wiped the slate clean and become a blank canvas. A canvas that had previously been packed full of messily scribbled labeling words written in permanent pen. Now this canvas was blank and pure. Anything was possible, and it was time to write. Not more limiting labels but an exciting personal vision for my next chapter of life.

    2. Define my personal vision for life (for now)

    When defining my personal vision, as well as being mindful to avoid labels, I avoided defining from a place of should.

    I already knew how my vision for life should look based on the plan society had devised.

    Study, study some more, get a job, pay the bills, suck up the feelings of unfulfillment and get on with it, work more, save a bit, and then, when you’re old and tired, retire to try to enjoy whatever time you have left.

    Should felt heavy. Should felt a lot like lying to myself about my desires. So when defining my personal vision, I swapped “I should” to “I want and choose.” This felt exciting. Lighter. I felt like a young boy again stood in a sweet shop with a big, shiny coin in his hand.

    I took a lot of time out to be still and silent, listening to what answers my heart had for me when I thought about what I wanted and would choose.

    Inspired by Steven Fry’s quote, I began to think as a verb, defining my personal vision based on how I most wanted to feel and think and what I most wanted to be doing. I was craving feelings of excitement and freedom, and like Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings, I wanted an adventure. I didn’t want to feel like a powerless puppet anymore; instead, I yearned to feel I was making progress toward what really mattered to me, and moving forward.

    I took pressure off myself by knowing this personal definition wasn’t final. It wasn’t going to define my life forever. This was temporary, the next chapter. I could, if I wanted to, change the vision at any time and reinvent myself again.

    What I loved most about the character Forest Gump is his reinvention of himself. In the movie, he’s a professional football player, a soldier, a runner, table tennis champion, and a shrimp boat captain. Though I don’t want those specific roles, I want that same freedom to evolve.

    3. Take action toward my personal vision now

    Believing I was my labels had kept me in inaction.

    Telling myself I was stuck only kept me stuck.

    Telling myself I was anxious only made me anxious about feeling anxious!

    Having recognized that I was not my labels and defined a vision for the next chapter, I knew the only thing that would take me from where I was to where I wanted to be was action, and lots of it.

    So I began to make changes.

    One daily habit that really served me was taking long walks every evening.

    It helped me on so many levels.

    It burned off a lot of the anxious energy I felt, it helped me lose some excess weight, which boosted my confidence, and it gave me lots of time to reflect and visualize my personal vision, while giving me a sense of adventure as I discovered new and different parts of my hometown. Plus, it was free! Which was just what I needed given my debts.

    My motto was “progress over perfection.”

    Alongside the daily walks, I focused on consistent, small steps rather than big actions.

    That’s not to say I didn’t make some big moves. Once I’d taken back some control over my debts, I booked a one-way flight to New Zealand. Traveling alone, to the other side of the world, was the adventure I longed for and needed. It would force me to face my anxieties, build my confidence even more, and learn the value of money, and it would also give me time and space to decide what I wanted to do from there.

    I climbed mountains, met many amazing people, and worked several jobs to fund my travels, which gave me more clarity around what I wanted to do professionally, which I pursued when my adventure came to an end.

    After a year in New Zealand, I returned home to England a new man. Calm and confident, having reinvented myself from the stuck person I once thought I was.

    I learned the “perfect time” doesn’t exist. No matter where we are in our lives, we can take action toward our personal vision at any time, even if it’s just a small step.

    I know we can’t all up and leave our lives to travel for a year, but we all have the ability to create a plan that makes sense for us and work toward it, even if just one small step at a time.

    It’s been almost six years since I returned from New Zealand, and I continue to reinvent myself personally and professionally. I know I’m not my labels. I know I’m not a noun. I know I’m not a powerless puppet. I am the experiencer.

    We are the experiencer. We are the main characters in the story of our lives, but we are more than that. We are the writers too. Reinventing who we are begins by dropping our labels and picking up the pen. Happy writing.

  • 9 Lessons from my 9-Month-Old Nephew, Who’s Taught Me How to Live

    9 Lessons from my 9-Month-Old Nephew, Who’s Taught Me How to Live

    “The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” ~William Arthur Ward

    Oliver.

    Ahh, my heart skips a beat at just the sound of his name.

    In 2018, a tiny human being arrived on the planet, one who would change my life. In the short nine months my nephew Oliver has been in my life, I’ve learned a lot. I’m not talking about changing nappies and bottle-feeding, although I’m getting to grips with these essentials too. No, Oliver has taught me valuable lessons about life itself. Here are nine of the biggest.

    1. Love and be loved.

    Those who meet Oli can’t help but love him. He has big, beautiful, blue eyes and a smile that you can’t help but reciprocate.

    Although he’s beautiful on the outside, it’s his spirit I love most. He’s gentle, innocent, and curious. I see the good in him, and even though I know he’ll make mistakes as he grows up, I also know it won’t change my unconditional love for him.

    Loving Oli in this way has taught me to be more loving and less judgmental of others because I recognize that in every adult there’s an innocent child who’s just trying to do their best.

    This has also helped me better open up and receive love. I feel how deeply I want to help Oli, and how much it means to me when I can, which makes me more receptive when others want to help me.

    2. Make time to play.

    Oliver’s social schedule is impressive, better than most adults! He goes to birthday parties, visits family, has trips out, not to mention the numerous baby classes he attends. Regardless of where he is, whether it’s a class with friends or a rainy day spent at home, I can count on one thing—he’s playing!

    One morning, while watching Oli play, I asked myself, “Do I make enough time to play?” Adulting can be a serious matter at times, but that’s not to say we can’t pass time in a way that lights us up. Maybe I’m a little old to play with toy cars (or maybe not). Still, it’s important I make time for fun.

    So I now make time to play piano and watch movies instead of telling myself these things are unimportant, and I try to infuse a spirit of play into everything I do instead of taking it all so seriously.

    3. Praise ourselves.

    Recently, my sister taught Oli the song “If You’re Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands.” He’s always a little out of time, but he’s mastered clapping itself. It melts my heart to see him clapping away with his mini hands.

    I hope when he’s a little older, he’ll clap for himself after all his accomplishments and learn to praise himself for a job well done. Children are usually great at this. Sadly, when we become adults, we become more critical of ourselves, and words of praise become words of criticism. We become our own worst enemies, which makes it hard to ever feel happy, proud, or successful.

    I formed a habit at the end of last year, to praise myself for three achievements at the each of day. Big or small, it doesn’t matter. I simply praise myself. I’m a lot less critical of myself since starting this ritual—and a lot happier as a result!

    4. Give encouragement.

    “C’mon, you can do it.” This seems to be my catchphrase when I’m spending quality time with my nephew. He’s forever on the move, grabbing on to the side of the sofa and pulling himself up slowly.

    Rather than helping him directly, I sit back, smile, and encourage because I want to support his growth instead of just doing things for him. If my family are in the room, they’ll join in and it begins to feel like we’re a group of cheerleaders rooting for our favorite sports team.

    Oli loves encouragement. Don’t we all? Life can be challenging sometimes, and hearing someone say, “I believe in you” can help us push through when we’re tempted to give up.

    I now put more energy into encouraging my loved ones—and myself. Replacing my inner dialogue from negative, doubtful messages to pure encouragement has been life changing. Our thoughts determine our feelings, which influence our actions. For this reason, even a little self-encouragement can dramatically transform our lives.

    5. Express how you feel.

    Another important lesson Oliver has taught me, and taught me well, is to express how you feel. When Oli is hungry or tired you know about it! He doesn’t hold back. And he always gets his needs met as a result.

    For a long time when I was living with anxiety, I wore a mask and hid my real feelings, putting on a “brave face.” I was afraid of being judged and I falsely believed that “real men” shouldn’t show weakness or ask for help.

    I’ve gotten better at expressing how I feel, though there’s still room for improvement. As a result, I’m also better able to move past my challenges and get what I need.

    6. Be determined.

    One of Oliver’s cutest idiosyncrasies is his growl. He’s one determined little man, and his determined actions are always backed by a “GRRRR.” He’s advanced for his age, and I bet it’s because of his determination. If he fails the first time around, he tries again.

    As adults, we’re sometimes too quick to form conclusions about what’s possible and what we’re capable of doing. Babies don’t have this kind of internal monologue—they just keep going when they have a goal in their sights!

    Watching Oli has inspired me during recent challenges to really dig deep, get determined, and keep on going.

    7. Know when to rest.

    As playful and determined as he is, Oliver knows when it’s time for a nap.

    In the past I’ve been guilty of pushing too hard, working too long, and not resting enough. I sometimes think I’ll get more done if I work harder and longer—probably because I often heard growing up “You can be successful if you work hard.” But I’m actually more effective if I allow myself to stop working and rest when I’m tired, since I can then come back stronger and recharged later or the next day.

    I may not require as much sleep as a baby, but I do need to listen to when my mind and body is saying “enough.” It’s not about working harder, but smarter.

    8. Try new things.

    The last time I saw Oliver, my family and I took him to the English seaside for the first ever time. It was a cold and windy day, but we didn’t let the weather prevent us from having a great time. We walked for hours along the coastline, breathing in the salty sea air and listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

    Having a baby in the family is the perfect reason to go and experience all the world has to offer, to show them its wonders for the first time.

    As adults, our lives can get routine. We drive to work the same way, eat the same foods, and see the same people day to day. According to Tony Robbins, one of our six core needs is the need for uncertainty—or variety. Without new experiences, life starts to get boring.

    There’s so much joy to be had when we enter the realm of the new with a curious pair of eyes. Trying new things also helps us discover new things about ourselves—new interests or strengths, or traits we didn’t know we had.

    After this outing with my family, I made a list of new things I’d like to experience, from foods to devour to countries to explore. I may be far beyond Oil’s age, but we’re never too old to try new things.

    9. Live in the present.

    Perhaps the biggest lesson my nephew has taught me is to live in the present moment. He has no concept of time. The past and the future don’t exist in Oli’s world; he lives completely in and for the present, which ultimately, is the only time we can ever live in.

    Oliver hasn’t yet learned how to remember. He hasn’t learned how to worry. He is pure. Like we all were at one time. If he falls down, he forgets it quickly and goes right back to playing, completely connected to the joy of what he’s doing.

    It’s never too late, I believe, to return to living life in the present. Although over the years, thoughts may have pulled our focus like a tug of war rope, back and forth, between the past and future, we can always return to the now, right now.

  • How I Learned to Like and Trust Myself When It Was Hard

    How I Learned to Like and Trust Myself When It Was Hard

    “Loving yourself starts with liking yourself, which starts with respecting yourself, which starts with thinking of yourself in positive ways.” ~Jerry Corsten

    Useless. Hopeless. Broken.

    This was how I saw myself.

    I didn’t completely loathe myself, but I didn’t like myself either. At best, I tolerated myself.

    I felt I had good reasons to.

    I’d gotten myself into, as we say in England, a right old pickle.

    If you’re not familiar with this charming expression, I had gotten myself into a big mess.

    In my early twenties, over a painful period of about eighteen months, I’d gradually buried myself in personal debt with several pay-day loan companies.

    The ever-growing pressure to pay off this debt played havoc on my mental health. I often found myself running into the work toilet to secretly have panic attacks, throwing water on my face like a madman, and reassuring myself that I wasn’t losing my sanity. I was suffering, and misguidedly, I’d convinced myself I would have to suffer alone.

    To make myself feel better, each week I partied from Thursday through to Sunday, chain smoking and knocking back pint after pint of Guinness. Or anything else that was available. I wasn’t fussy.

    I’d wake up on a Sunday, often still drunk, with a dizzy head and a heavy heart.

    Do I dare to check my bank balance? How long can I go on living like this? What’s wrong with me?

    Sunday evenings were the worst. I dreaded Monday morning. I disliked my job but needed to stay there to keep my head above water. It was a vicious cycle.

    I’m pleased to say those days are behind me. I’m still far from being perfect, but I’ve come a long way.

    I’ve learned to like and even love myself. Which I’m proud of, because I honestly believe the most important relationship we will ever have in our lives is the one we have with ourselves.

    The quality of the relationship we have with ourselves determines the quality of all other relationships. Plus, I came into this world alone and I’ll leave alone. Other people will come and go, but I will always have myself. I best make sure I like the man I see in the mirror.

    Here are three ways I learned to like and trust myself again.

    1. Recognizing I’ve always done my best, given my level of awareness at the time

    I often shock people when I tell them I believe there is no such thing as self-sabotaging behaviors. They ask, “Well, what about procrastination? Drinking? Drugs? Surely, they are self-sabotaging?”

    Yes and no. Yes, they are destructive, but I wouldn’t call them self-sabotaging.

    A more revealing question than what those behaviors are, is why do they exist?

    I believe it’s not self-sabotage but misguided self-love.

    Let’s take my binge drinking and smoking, for example—behavior that, in the eyes of many, would seem self-destructive. On top of the harmful physical and mental affects, these habits put me further into debt. But why did I indulge in those behaviors in the first place? Because my life situation was painful, and temporarily, they helped.

    For a few short hours, those behaviors made me feel better. I became less anxious and happier. As far as my mind was concerned, this was helping.

    The issue, as I’ve come to learn, is that the subconscious mind (the part of the mind responsible for habits and behaviors) focuses on the present moment.

    What is also important to understand is that the mind’s #1 role is to maintain our survival. If you’ve ever almost stepped into the path of a speeding vehicle, you’ve seen this truth. Without even consciously thinking , your incredible mind jolted you back onto the path and off the road.

    Given that the mind’s #1 role is our survival, the idea that it would allow self-sabotaging behaviors is nonsensical.

    Furthermore, believing I had a sneaky self-saboteur living inside me, hell-bent on destroying my life, made me feel utterly powerless. If I couldn’t even help myself, how could anyone else?

    Now I view those destructive behaviors differently, for what I believe they are: short-sighted self-love. “Helpful” in the short-term but costly in the long-term.

    I wasn’t sabotaging myself on purpose. My mind allowed those behaviors because they were moving me away from perceived pain, or toward perceived pleasure.

    With more awareness, I was able to stop beating myself up, stop the behaviors that were holding me back, and start making better choices. Which included asking for help and setting some goals for myself.

    2. Setting small and achievable goals

    Once I realized I’d always done my best in the past, given my level of awareness, it was time for me to think of positive steps I could take toward the future. Starting by gaining direction through goal-setting.

    In the past, I’d set myself up for failure by trying to change everything overnight. After a few days, however, I’d become overwhelmed by trying to maintain so much change and fall back into old, familiar patterns.

    This time, instead of attempting to change everything I wanted to change at once, I created small and achievable goals for myself.

    I started by addressing my personal debt, which was the biggest stressor in my life at the time, and a huge contributor toward my anxiety. Once I made some progress with my goal of getting debt-free, I created small and achievable goals in other areas. For example, I set a goal of meditating once per day. It wasn’t long before I was seeing improvements in my mental state.

    Over time, my confidence in myself began to grow, as I could look back and see tangible results. I was beginning to like and trust myself again.

    3. Self-praise

    A huge contributing factor in forming a better relationship with myself was praising myself along the way.

    As I child, I was fortunate in that I was often praised by the adults around me.

    Sadly, as we transition into adulthood, outside praise tends to become less frequent, doesn’t it? It did for me at least.

    As I grew older, instead of hearing words of praise, I heard more words of criticism from mean teachers and bosses who used shame and fear to motivate me to do better.

    No wonder, then, that my inner dialogue became more negative and I learned to beat myself up.

    Although I may no longer be a child, I’m not ashamed to admit, I still love to be praised!

    So, to encourage myself when making positive changes, I use self-praise each evening before bed. When brushing my teeth, I look myself in the eyes, reflect on the day that has passed, and think of three things I can praise myself for.

    Big or small, I find three things I did well and wish to acknowledge.

    Even on those days when I feel like I’ve achieved next to nothing, when I ask myself “What can I praise myself for today?” my mind searches for answers and will always find some. Even if it’s something small, like resisting the urge to overdo it when drinking with my friends or not oversleeping on the weekend.

    As Tony Robbins said, “Quality questions create a quality life. Successful people ask better questions, and as a result, they get better answers.”

    I used to go to bed and ask myself “Why am I so useless?” I’d fall asleep with a feeling of dread in my heart, resentful toward myself.

    By asking myself “What can I praise myself for?” I fall asleep feeling positive about myself, as someone who likes and trusts themselves.

    —

    If you’re having a hard time liking yourself, let alone loving yourself, start by recognizing you’ve always done the best you could. Even when you made choices you later regretted, you were trying to help yourself; you just didn’t have the awareness or resources to do better.

    Then focus on taking small steps to create change you can be proud of. Don’t try to make major changes overnight; you’ll likely get overwhelmed, feel even worse about yourself, and give up. Just do one tiny thing every day to help you move you in a better direction.

    And give yourself a little credit. Ask yourself questions about what you’re doing right, not what you’re doing wrong. You’ll likely feel a lot better about yourself and your life. And when we feel better, we do better—which means you’ll keep giving yourself reasons to be proud.

  • Why I’m Choosing to Be Happy Now, Not When I Feel Like a Success

    Why I’m Choosing to Be Happy Now, Not When I Feel Like a Success

    “The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.” ~Alan Watts

    I love how instant modern life has become.

    When I’m hungry, without really moving, I can instantly get food delivered to me. Pizza, of course. When I’m hungry for knowledge, at the touch of a button on my mobile, I can discover answers to the questions I’m pondering. No need to head to the library to search for and flick through books.

    Some would argue that this instantaneousness is making us lazy. Regardless, I find it astonishing the speed we can get what we want.

    Why, then, have I found myself delaying the one thing I want most—happiness?

    Like many of us, I’m driven. I love to challenge myself, set goals, and do my best to achieve them.

    There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious. It’s only a problem when I tell myself “I won’t be happy until… happens” or “I won’t be happy until I have…”

    When I set goals for myself, they’re naturally future-based, and when I tie my happiness to those goals, it too becomes a thing of the future.

    But is there another way? I’ve been pondering this question for a while, and I’ve decided to choose happiness before success. Here are three reasons why.

    1. There will always be more to achieve.

    In the past, once I achieved a goal, I’ve barely celebrated before setting a ‘’bigger, better’’ goal and moving on to the next thing.

    This focus on the next thing looks suspiciously like the journey we find ourselves caught up in as children. Little school. Big school. First job. Better job. Buy a house. Promotions. Buy a bigger house. Work. Working harder. Harder still.

    Alan Watts said this about getting to the end of our lives after chasing the illusive next thing: “But we missed the whole point all along, it was a musical thing and you were supposed to sing or to dance whilst the music was being played.”

    There will always be more. More success (whatever that looks like for us individually). More money, bigger houses, faster cars. We have to decide, at what point we are ‘’there’’? What if we were there now? What if we already have everything we need to be content and simply enjoy our lives, even if there’s more we’d like in the future?

    2. My happiness now will attract success in the future.

    With this journey we’re on, the assumption is that once we’re “there,” once we’ve “made it,” we’ll be happy. In other words, once we have success we’ll be happy. What if it was the other way around? What if once we’re happy, we will have success? Maybe not society’s definition of success, but success we’ve defined on our own terms.

    I’ve made a conscious effort over the last few months to make my happiness a priority. I’ve started to live my life my way. Prioritizing the habits that are most important to me, like meditation. Doing business in a way that lights me up, rather than what the gurus tell me. Exercising in a way I want to—daily walks in the forest—rather than listening to the experts who insist on joining a gym to get fit.

    As a result, I’m attracting the types of opportunities, experiences, and people I want to into my life. By doing things that feel right for me, I’m naturally aligning with the right people and situations.

    I’m also reinforcing to myself that I have everything I need. I’m already complete, I’m already enough, and I can feel good right now regardless of what kind of success I achieve in the future. I’m dancing to the music now, rather than delaying. And that, to me, is its own kind of success.

    3. It’s not really success we’re after.

    I’ve discovered that the only reason I want to achieve any goal is because I believe it is going to make me feel a certain way. When I set goals now, I ask myself, “Why do I want this?” I’ll continue to ask myself this until I get to a feeling.

    We don’t want more money for the sake of more money; we may want the feeling of security we believe it will give us, or perhaps a feeling of significance.

    We don’t want fast cars for the sake of fast cars; we want the feeling of fun we experience when driving at speed or maybe the sense of freedom the car gives us.

    It’s always the feelings we want. I’ve found that I can cultivate those feelings now.

    My walks in the forest give me a sense of freedom. Appreciating my health—which I often take for granted—can give me a sense of security. There are a million and one ways I can have fun today, without waiting for a fast car to be in my driveway; people-watching over coffee, calling an old friend, reading or watching a movie—the list of simple pleasures is endless!

    I’m not saying I’ve given up on having the success I want. There is nothing wrong with wanting and receiving the objects of our desires. I’ve just given up on the illusion that I’ll be happier once I’m “successful.”

    I’ve given up delaying how I wish to feel in the future and started creating those feelings now.

    I choose happiness now.

  • Why I’ve Stopped Hiding My Struggles

    Why I’ve Stopped Hiding My Struggles

    “The moment that you feel, just possibly, you are walking down the street naked, exposing too much of your heart and your mind, and what exists on the inside, showing too much of yourself… that is the moment you might be starting to get it right.” ~Neil Gaiman

    The road seemed to go on forever.

    Although it was only about 8:30 a.m., the summer sun was already blazing in the sky, shining down with such intensity I felt like an ant under a merciless magnifying glass.

    Seven miles into an eight-mile run and growing more and more tired with each step, I faced the final stretch along a tarmac path bustling with fellow runners, dog walkers, cyclists, and the occasional rollerblader.

    “Not… far… to… go,” I repeated to myself, as I trudged along with all the grace of a baby elephant. As faster and leaner runners passed me, I noticed my mind was slipping into self-comparison mode, but then I pulled myself back to the present moment.

    As I became more present, I observed.

    I observed the slight twinge in my left shin and the sound of birdsong from nearby bushes. To my surprise, I observed another more interesting phenomenon, an old pattern I thought I had beaten.

    As I passed other people walking, running, cycling, and blading in the opposite direction, I noticed my demeanor changed. I went from running like a baby elephant to galloping like a gazelle, from looking like the newbie runner I am to pretending to be a seasoned professional athlete.

    In the brief moments my path crossed with strangers, I hid my struggle.

    My posture improved and the grimace on my face turned into a confident smile.

    But why?

    Why did I feel the need to hide my struggle and present a more “I have it all together” version of myself?

    I pondered this question for a few days after this intriguing observation. Why do any of us feel the need to appear more together than we are?

    The answer I came up with is this…

    We hide our struggles because we’ve learned that showing signs of struggle or weakness is a bad thing.

    However, I believe this couldn’t be further from the truth.

    In our early lives, we were more than willing to show signs of struggle. When we were tired, upset, or frustrated, we communicated exactly how we felt (through cries and tantrums). A little bit older, when confused in the classroom, we were more likely to put our hands up and ask for help.

    We knew at a young age that struggling was a part of life, and a sign we were soon going to learn something new.

    Sadly, as we became older, it became more and more unacceptable to struggle and fail. Teachers and parents became less sympathetic and patient as their expectations increased. We began striving for perfection, which, of course, is unattainable.

    To wash away the false idea that showing signs of struggle is a bad thing, we need to remember these three important truths.

    1. Struggling is normal.

    It seems so darn obvious, but when I’m hiding my struggles, I’m denying the truth that struggling is normal. I’m buying into stories like “I should know better,” “I shouldn’t feel like this,” and “I should look like I have it all together.”

    The bottom line is, we’re human, meaning we’re all imperfect and we all struggle. No one has it all together. No one has a perfect life. And no one feels happy, confident, and positive all the time.

    Rather than feel ashamed and hide our struggles, we need to recognize that struggles are human and appreciate ourselves for doing our best in any given moment.

    2. Unless we show we’re struggling, we’re unable to receive help.

    Whenever I pretend I’m not struggling, the door to receive help is closed.

    In my early twenties, I went through a hard time. Facing financial struggles, daily anxiety, and dwindling confidence, I felt like I’d fallen down a deep, dark hole. I’d wake each day feeling helpless. But for almost two years, I lived a lie, in complete denial about my life situation. To the outside world, all was well.

    Eventually, it got too much and I had to get real. It started with a simple phone conversation with a lady from a debt agency. In two minutes, I felt like a huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders. This was the start of admitting I was struggling and getting some help.

    No matter what our struggles are, right now there are people who can (and want to) help. No one could help me unless I helped myself first, and it started with getting real.

    3. Showing we’re struggling gives others permission to show they’re struggling too.

    The moment we take off the masks and make ourselves vulnerable, we give others permission to do the same.

    After tackling my financial struggles, I began to open up about my anxiety. I remember being sat in a pub with a close friend of mine when I decided to share with him how I’d been struggling with an anxious mind.

    His response shocked me: “That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling.” For years, we’d both been struggling with the same thing but had never once spoken about how we’d felt. How sad.

    When we share our struggles with those around us, we give them permission to voice theirs, if they wish to share. We may never know just how life-changing that permission may be to someone. They may feel alone, overwhelmed, or even at the end of their rope, and we could change it all by giving them an opportunity to receive our understanding and support.

    —

    Now when I lace up my running shoes, I leave the mask at home. And if I’m struggling at work, in my relationships, or in any other area of my life, I let other people in.

    I no longer pretend to be fine when I’m not because when I’ve been honest in the past, only good has happened.

  • Why We May Have Already Won the Lottery of Life

    Why We May Have Already Won the Lottery of Life

    “Be thankful for what you have, you’ll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don’t have, you will never, ever have enough.” ~Oprah Winfrey

    Occasionally, I experience moments of what I can only describe as “pure bliss.”

    It’s like a cool wave of peace washes over me, cleansing me momentarily of my worries, stress, and issues. Last week, I had such an experience.

    You may be curious, what was happening for me to experience such a state?

    The truth may come as a surprise.

    Because my outer reality was, well, rather underwhelming.

    I was walking home carrying the weekly shopping, having visited the supermarket.

    Not quite the setting for ”pure bliss” one may imagine.

    Perhaps you imagined me sat crossed legged, draped in silk robes, deep in meditation atop a mountain.

    Or, perhaps, gazing up at the glistening galaxy on a clear night.

    Nope, just a chump walking home with the shopping.

    As the late spring sun shone down on me, I smiled and said aloud, ”Man, I’m lucky.”

    Although externally, all was hum-ho and there was nothing out of the ordinary, internally, thoughts were flowing, like serene streams, forming a deep sea of appreciation in my mind. 

    I appreciated the lush green forest I could see in the distance.

    I appreciated the fact that I was walking.

    I appreciated that I had food.

    I appreciated that I had a home to return to.

    I appreciated being alive and experiencing it all.

    As I reflect on this experience, I’m curious: Why is it that such moments are rare?

    What stops me (and others) from tapping into this state of bliss more often?

    My answer, my truth is this: the disease of more.

    We spend so much of our time focusing on what is lacking in our lives. We focus on being, doing, and having more. When we focus on more, we become blind to all we are already. All we can do. All we have in our lives, right now.

    Like the proverbial donkey chasing a carrot on a stick, our focus on what is out of reach blinds us from all else surrounding us.

    What if, in many ways, we’ve already won the lottery of life?

    And what if the path to bliss was appreciating the carrots we already have rather than chasing more?

    I admit it can be challenging to appreciate the little things when you’re dealing with trauma, tragedy, or hardship. But I suspect that most of us lose sight of these gifts simply because we’re focusing on everything we want but don’t have.

    To deepen the appreciation I felt recently, I’ve researched each of the things I celebrated on this day. I hope by sharing my experience, I may help others to see that they, too, may have already won the lottery of life.

    1. I appreciate my senses.

    My apartment backs on to some forest and, although I see it every day, on the walk home this day its beauty captivated me. The different shades of the green trees and the forest’s sheer size as it towers over the houses in the village—wow, it was spectacular.

    I realize now how often I take my eyesight for granted. According to a 2010 data collection, it’s estimated that 39 million people worldwide are blind and 246 million have low vision.

    We have five traditional senses—sound, sight, touch, smell, and taste—but did you know we have fifteen other senses? These include a sense of balance, sense of temperature, and a sense of time. And they’re all worth appreciating.

    2. I appreciate my body.

    A wise friend of mine once told me ”If you want to feel more appreciative instantly, change your ‘I have to’ statements to ‘I get to’.” The first time I made this subtle change, it was profound.

    Late last year, I was feeling grumpy about having to walk across town to meet with a client. Remembering my friend’s advice, I changed the story in my head from ”Ergh, I have to walk across town” to ”I get to walk across town.”

    The sudden appreciation I felt for my legs made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Since then, I no longer complain about having to walk places. It’s a gift to have a functioning body, a gift many people sadly don’t have.

    3. I appreciate that I have food to eat.

    Nearly half of the world’s population—more than three billion people—live on less than $2.50 a day. More than 1.3 billion live in extreme poverty—less than $1.25 a day.

    I didn’t mind carrying the heavy shopping bags home. I’ll be honest, there are times when I’ve complained. What a first world problem! I realized what a luxury it is to have a supermarket in walking distance where food is so readily available, and to have the money to purchase it.

    4. I appreciate having a place to live.

    The last time a global survey was attempted, by the United Nations in 2005, an estimated 100 million people were homeless worldwide. As many as 1.6 billion people lacked adequate housing (Habitat, 2015).

    When I read this statistic, my mind was blown. Imagining one million people is difficult enough, let alone 100 million. Many of us dream of a bigger house. The reality is, to many, the place we live in currently would be considered a palace.

    5. I appreciate being alive.

    As I returned home from shopping on this day, I felt an appreciation for life itself.

    Scientists estimate the probability of any of us being born at about one in 400 trillion.

    Think about that number for a moment. Let it sink in.

    For you to be here, right now, reading this, a ridiculous number of elements had to line up perfectly. That your parents, grandparents, and great grandparents met at the exact time they did is just the tip of the iceberg.

    The fact is, you are here right now. Your eyes have enabled you to read this. Meanwhile, your autonomic nervous system has been regulating your bodily functions, including your breathing and heartbeat, all without your conscious thought.

    There’s no limit to what we can appreciate if we’re paying attention. These are just a few of the things I celebrated recently. I appreciate having the opportunity to share them.

  • Why I Stopped Being Busy and Took a Pressure-Free Pause

    Why I Stopped Being Busy and Took a Pressure-Free Pause

    “When we get too caught up in the busyness of the world, we lose connection with one another—and ourselves.” ~Jack Kornfield

    It was a Monday a few weeks ago, 6:00am, and I was taking a morning walk. The only light in sight was the neon yellow glare of the street lamps.

    My heart was heavy. It was as if someone had cut my chest open while I was asleep and slipped a cannonball inside.

    My alarm had awoken me at 5:00am, as it had every morning since the start of the year.

    My shoes crunch-crunched in the snow as I trudged along, ignoring this dull ache in my chest, telling myself, “It’s just resistance to being up so early. Keep pushing through; gotta get those 12,000 steps today, Will.”

    I got to the end of the road, a mere eighty or so meters from my house, and WHOOSH, a wild wave of emotions washed over me, forcing me—jolting me—to stop walking and stand still and silent in the snow.

    I stood and stood as if I’d fallen asleep upright and frozen to death.

    This whooshing wave felt like a panic attack. Except it wasn’t.

    It was this feeling coming from my chest, the one I had tried to ignore. If its first attempt to get my attention was a whisper, this was a shout.

    And it was shouting in desperation, ”LISTEN TO ME, WILL.”

    Without consciously making the decision, I turned and walked home.

    I’d barely walked for two minutes, not quite the forty-five-minute morning walk I had planned, but something inside of me, I can’t explain what, told me this was long enough for today.

    Arriving home, I sat down at my desk to give this feeling some attention.

    My eyes closed. I did my best to give a name to what I was feeling…

    Was it sadness? Nope. Dissatisfaction? Closer, but not quite. Pressure? Yes, pressure! I was feeling pressured!

    The next logical question for me was, why? Why was I feeling pressured?

    The answer was right under my nose, and no, that’s not a metaphor; the answer was literally right under my nose, sitting there on my desk, staring up at me.

    You see, lying there in the center of my desk, scribbled on a piece of paper, was my list of jobs for the day, and it was a long, long list.

    I’d listed all the action steps I felt I needed to take, I felt I should take, I felt I must take on this day.

    An intimidating list detailing emails to be sent, words to be written, opportunities to be created. More. More. More. This list was going to keep me occupied almost every waking minute of the day, having me run around like a headless chicken, stuck in doing mode.

    Sure, there were self-care rituals—meditation, Qi Gong, walks dotted throughout the day—but even these seemed like chores within my strict schedule, just something else to tick off.

    Supporting myself through this, next, I pondered the question:

    How can I take this pressure off of myself?

    At first, no ideas came to mind, nothing, nada.

    Because wasn’t my list full of non-negotiables?

    Then an insight arose, which brought with it an air of refreshment followed by fear.

    “TAKE TIME OFF, WILL.”

    My heart was speaking to me again, the same voice that had spoken to me earlier on my walk, now providing me with an insight to take time off.

    Which was fascinating because the voice of my mind had been telling me to do the exact opposite previously, telling me to write out a big long list of to-dos.

    It was my mind that had told me to wake up at 5:00am so I could do more during each day.

    It was my mind dishing out the restricting need, must, and should statements.

    The thought of taking time off was refreshing, but the fear was: What would happen if I stopped living in doing-mode for some time?

    Fear suggested that taking time out would be a bad thing; I’d lose out on an opportunity of some kind or end up getting lazy. My heart trusted that taking time out, or rather, slowing down was the right path to take to relieve the pressure.

    After a little more reflection, my heart gave me a complete ‘prescription’ to take the pressure off of myself. It involved three stages.

    1. Distinguish between non-negotiable commitments and desires so that I could be more flexible.

    So much of what I thought were non-negotiables were not. They were nothing more than rules I had created. For example, I had told myself I must finish my studies by March. In truth, I don’t have to; this is just a desire.

    I still had a list of commitments I couldn’t stop entirely, but it was a much shorter and more manageable list!

    2. Pause my desires to relieve the pressure.

    Once I’d identified my actual commitments (work, family, household duties), I looked at my list of desires and gave myself permission to pause these.

    This was when fear crept in again…

    Am I allowed to pause my commitments?

    Am I allowed to say no to people?

    The answer is yes.

    I decided on a three-week pause period where I would concentrate only on actual commitments and, of course, concentrate on taking care of myself.

    I decided to pause my studies, any reading for learning (as opposed to enjoyment), any business-related activities, being active on social media—anything I felt I could pause temporarily without jeopardizing myself.

    3. Create a refreshment plan.

    Within my three-week pause period, I set some gentle intentions for how I would spend my time. After all, I had created a lot of time by simply pausing the desires that were causing the pressure.

    So I asked myself a different question.

    Rather than “What must I do?” I asked myself, “What would I love to do?”

    Some of my answers included:

    – Resting. Sleeping longer and napping during the day. My long days were making me feel exhausted.

    – Spending more time outside in nature. I was spending too much time in the online world, staring at computer screens all day. I’ve found myself on my walks, just pausing, closing my eyes, and enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face.

    – Spending more time with my girlfriend, Yvonne, and my family and friends. I know the quality of our personal relationships is a huge determining factor in our levels of happiness. I’d been a little neglectful of this.

    – Reading more fiction. I normally read to learn, which I love, but it’s tough going. I wanted to escape to some far-off fictional land!

    – Practicing the act of appreciation. Tony Robbins says, “Trade your expectations for appreciation, and your whole world changes in an instant.” Having dropped my personal expectations of myself and switched to appreciating, this has certainly been true for me. Each night I’ve been listing ten things I appreciate.

    I’m two weeks into my pause period, and I’m pleased to say I’m feeling refreshed. My personal relationships have improved, the weight has been lifted from my shoulders and chest, and I feel somehow I’ve gotten out of my own way.

    Perhaps I was being busy in an illusionary attempt to feel in control of the areas of my life I wished to move forward.

    This may be true.

    I also feel we often stay stuck in ‘doing mode,’ moving toward our goals, because we feel on the other side of those actions and goals is what we really want. 

    And what do we really want? I can only speak for myself, of course. When all is said and done, what I really want most is the freedom to enjoy my life and to feel good.

    By taking a step back, I’ve realized an important truth.

    I have this freedom right now.

    It’s a funny world we live in where we work so long and hard to essentially buy back our freedom at a later date.

    It’s far easier to appreciate the level of freedom we have right now, before pursuing more. This has been my biggest lesson.

    There is absolutely a time for actions, progress, a time for being down on our knees planting seeds.

    However, we need to be mindful of when it’s time to pause and take a step back and enjoy the warmth of the sun on our faces.

  • 3 Simple Ways to Make It a Happy New Year

    3 Simple Ways to Make It a Happy New Year

    “The most important thing is to enjoy your life—to be happy—it’s all that matters.” ~Audrey Hepburn

    Happiness and its pursuit fascinate me.

    Like most people, I’m curious why on some mornings I wake up and the world is a wonderful place—the sun is shining, happiness oozes out of my heart like warm honey, and the sound of bird song brings a smile to my face. I can only describe this as bliss.

    On other mornings, it feels as if all color and wonder in world has drained away. My heart feels heavy in my chest. I’m indifferent to the sound of birds singing outside my window; if anything, it irritates me.

    Why? How? What is the difference that makes the difference with happiness? I’d love to have the answers.

    All I can do I share my truth. Share how I intend to make 2018 a happy new year.

    1. Focus on what makes me feel good

    As Tony Robbins says, “Focus creates feeling.”

    It’s my choice whether I focus on the good, the bad, or the ugly. The mind, with its negativity bias, will steer me toward the ugly. The worst-case scenario for the future. The memories I wish I could forget.

    Identifying with these thoughts, focusing on them, I’ll feel a certain way (crappy).

    The great news is, if I steer my thoughts toward the best-case scenario for the future and the memories I hope I’ll never forget, I’ll feel the way I wish to feel.

    Matthieu Ricard, the French writer and Buddhist monk, suggests a great practice: for ten minutes each day, connect with thoughts and memories that make us feel good. When I practice this, I take myself to my “happy place” (I think we all have a happy place). Mine is a secluded beach in New Zealand called Ocean Beach.

    In my happy place, I imagine it’s 2012 again and I’m back standing on the hot sand, surrounded by my friends as we jump joyfully into the towering waves. I recall the taste of the salty water, the heat of the sun on my back, the sounds of laughter and the great roar of the ocean. Within seconds of reconnecting with my happy place, these warm feelings, much like the waves themselves, begin to flow.

    The feelings that were there, all along, inside of me.

    I sometimes forget this truth, so to remind myself I’ve written on my wall:

    “Will, you are only one thought away from what you wish to feel.”

    2. Make the relationship I have with myself my most important relationship

    I’ve had conversations with friends before, good people who are real givers; they genuinely care for other people. Yet they neglect themselves. They tell me they feel guilty for making time for themselves; they feel bad for putting themselves first before other people. That it’s somehow selfish to do so.

    The way I see it, putting ourselves first is the least selfish thing we can do.

    Why?

    When I take care of my own needs, I’m able to give more to others because I’m in a good mental place.

    When I treat myself with kindness and compassion, this is naturally how I treat other people.

    When I honor and look after myself, I’m giving others permission to do the same.

    When I look after myself, everyone is better off, myself and others.

    A ritual I created this year that I’ll be carrying on into 2018 and beyond is to take myself on dates.

    Yep, that’s right, once per week I’ll take myself out on a date.

    We deem our loved ones worthy and deserving of dates, why not ourselves?

    Sometimes, a self-date means treating myself to a long walk in the forest with a piece of cake in one hand and a coffee in the other. Sometimes, I’ll go for lunch at my favorite Japanese restaurant.

    The rules for my self-date are simple: I give myself an experience I enjoy, guilt-free.

    Most of us are great at meeting the needs of others, loving others, and responding with understanding, compassion, and kindness.

    My question is, what will it take for us to show up like this for ourselves?

    I know in 2018 there are going to be days where happiness eludes me. I’m going to experience failure, disappointments, loss, stress, anger, and frustration.

    All of which will be difficult, but I know this: I can rely on myself to guide myself through them, as I’m committed to prioritizing the relationship I have with myself.

    3. Find glimpses of happiness even during tough times

    Happiness for me is an inside of job, as my feelings come from inside of me; they’re internal.

    When I believe my happiness is determined by the external world, I’m at its mercy.

    I may or may not achieve my goals. I maybe will or maybe won’t have health, wealth, and success in 2018.

    There are lots of maybes, which are not necessarily in my control.

    So, while I may not feel happy all the time, I’ve decided that my overall happiness will not be a maybe.

    I’m a firm believer that even in life’s darkest moments, there are, what I call “glimpses of happiness” to be found.

    Sadly, this year, my family and I lost a very special lady, my Nana Joyce.

    On the day of my Nana’s funeral, I was due to read a poem, but when it came to standing up and reading, however, my emotions and body had other another plan: to break down.

    I’d barely read the name of the poem before tears of grief erupted. Uncontrollably.

    I stuttered in an attempt to get the words out, but it wasn’t happening.

    The realization that my Nana was gone had hit me.

    Then something beautiful happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see someone walking toward me.

    It was my Uncle Barry.

    ”Would you like me to read this for you, Wills?”

    I groaned something that sounded something like “yes.”

    My Uncle Barry proceeded to read the poem, slowly, with a tone of sadness in his voice.

    Rather than disappearing to my seat, I stood with him, my hand on his shoulder as I took some deep breaths to calm down.

    Despite the strong and shattering grief I experienced, standing there with my uncle, there was a small glimpse of peace, as I knew I wasn’t alone.

    Throughout the rest of the day, I noticed more glimpses.

    Glimpses of love as my family comforted one another.

    Glimpses of laughter as we recalled funny stories from my Nana’s life.

    Glimpses of happiness as I acknowledged my family were here on this day as one, supporting each other on this most difficult day.

    These glimpses of happiness are always shining, and they work by reflecting back the happiness that already exists inside of us.

    They are in the room with me now. They are surrounding you as you read these words.

    Acknowledge these glimpses as they appear and you’ll feel happy a lot more often.

    Happy New Year.

  • What Helps Me When I’m Tempted to Compare Myself to Others

    What Helps Me When I’m Tempted to Compare Myself to Others

    “A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.” ~Zen Shen

    Wow, you’re a bit of a loser compared to this guy, aren’t you, Will?

    He’s winning at life—great job, great house, obviously making better money than you.

    I sigh deeply and continue scrolling.

    He takes care of himself, no Buddha belly, unlike you.

    It’s true. I begin to feel like a useless lump. I keep scrolling.

    No yellow and crooked teeth, either.

    “His teeth are pretty straight,” I think to myself, staring at the guy’s mouth on the screen.

    Damn right, they’re straight, like tic-tacs coming out of his gums. Perfect and white, not like yours.                                                                                                                     

    I sigh once again and continue to scroll on Facebook.

    —

    Above is a typical dialogue between what I refer to as my Gremlin and me.

    Does this voice sound familiar to you?

    I’m talking about the troublesome terror that pops up like an unwelcome guest at the front door.

    This nasty voice that loves to commentate and condemn—the voice that leaves us feeling unworthy and inferior, if we listen long enough. This, my friends, is the Gremlin of Self-Comparison.

    I Imagine how different an exchange would unfold if it were another person (outside of my head) giving me the bashing.

    If, for example, I was sitting on a park bench and a complete stranger walked up to me and said, ”Hey loser,” before pointing out how those around were superior to me. I imagine I’d walk off confused and leave this stranger alone after his unprovoked attack.

    ”Who is he to talk about me like that? He doesn’t even know me!” I would say to myself as I walk off.

    I’d tell myself he must be deeply unhappy to treat other people this way, and I certainly wouldn’t take his comments to heart.

    Most of us wouldn’t. We’d either ignore such criticism or defend ourselves.

    So, here is the million-dollar question: Why do we accept talking to ourselves like this?

    My belief is this: because it feels real, and we believe we are the voice. The truth is, however, we’re the listener, not the speaker.

    But the voice of the Gremlin seems like a credible source. I mean, the voice comes from inside of us, why wouldn’t we trust it?

    It helps to understand why we compare in the first place.

    We are programmed that way. Comparing ourselves to others is a natural and inherent instinct. In prehistoric times this innate ability allowed us to swiftly analyze others and identify possible threats, yet in today’s society these quick critiques could be causing harm rather than preventing it.

    Let’s face it: Facebook and Instagram newsfeeds are perfect catalysts for those episodes of self-pity and dissatisfaction, when we’re staring at our phone screens alone late at night, admiring how well everyone else seems to be doing.

    We have to wonder, who are the newsfeeds feeding?

    Could it be our Gremlins? Our insecurities? Our ego?

    It dawned on me a while ago that I will never win playing the game of self-comparison.

    No matter how much money I make, there will always be someone richer.

    Even if I get in better shape, there will always be someone fitter and stronger.

    But just knowing these things doesn’t mean I am able to stop comparing myself to others. I’ve had to accept my Gremlin is here to stay.

    So what’s the alternative to trying to win against the Self-Comparison Gremlin?

    I do my best to live by the following three mantras, as they serve me well in living with my Gremlin. Not “beating” or “silencing” my Gremlin. Living with him.

    1. If I’m going to compare, I will compare who I am today with who I was in the past.

    We’re forever growing, learning, and achieving. However, we fail to recognize and celebrate this when we’re listening to the Gremlin and concentrating on other people’s lives. Compared to who I was in the past, today I’m happier, wiser, and stronger. I’ve overcome anxiety, debt, disappointments, and heartbreak, and you know what? I’m still here.

    We’ve all had challenges and we’re all still here. When we rate ourselves by the accomplishments of others, we overlook our own successes.

    There’s one risk in comparing our current selves to our past selves: When revisiting the past, I may recognize that some areas of my life were better previously than they are now. I then have a choice. If I want to improve this area, I’ll set a goal. If right now I don’t wish to change, I’ll accept where I am. But what I won’t do is focus on everyone else’s progress and feel bad about myself as a result.

    2. The people I’m comparing myself to are not flawless.

    No matter how infallible and perfect others may seem, I’ll bet good money they have their Gremlins too. We are all equal in life. I’m no better than anybody else but I’m certainly not any worse. It’s important to remember that social media is only a highlight reel.

    We all know real life is far more messy, raw, and flawed.

    This is the beauty of being human.

    3. I love and accept myself as I am right now (including my Gremlin).

    Our Gremlins mean us well. Really, they’re trying to protect us by identifying areas where we may be “falling behind.” They’re only cruel because they’re scared—that we’ll somehow miss out if we don’t keep up with other people.

    I named mine Colin. What I find helpful about naming the voice is I’m able to check in and ask, “Okay, who is talking up there? Is this my trail of thought or is Colin going off on one?” The more I learn to love Colin and appreciate his good intentions, the less he pops up. When he does, I thank him and send him a little love for being a part of me. I let him know I hear him, although I may not choose to listen.

    I do my best to accept myself as I am, with my Buddha belly and less than perfect teeth. Because our imperfections make us who we are. My new favorite word currently is flawsome—meaning we are all awesome despite our flaws. Cool, right?

    Wouldn’t life be boring if we were all exactly the same? Plus, if we were all exactly the same, perhaps there wouldn’t be any more Gremlins, and to be honest, I kind of like mine now.