Tiny Buddha

Category: change & challenges

  • How to Get Life to Finally Start Going Your Way

    How to Get Life to Finally Start Going Your Way

    Excited Man

    “Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it. Make it your friend and ally, not your enemy.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Have you ever had a big financial expense knock you down?

    I had one of those situations hit me many years ago. I had just gone through a tough breakup, was experiencing regrets about my career choice, and was also struggling to get on my feet financially.

    I was feeling beat down and decided to try to lift myself up by getting my finances in better shape. I was able to cut some expenses and, over the next few months, was able to tuck away some extra money in a savings account.

    I was starting to feel a little giddy about my newfound ability to save.

    Then, my car broke down.

    No! I can’t afford a major expense right now. Why can’t I catch a break?

    I stood up on shaky legs, and that mean old universe kicked me right back down again, like I belonged there or something.

    I started evaluating my options.

    Could I fix my car myself? No.

    Did I have a friend or family member that could help me fix it? No.

    Could I leave the car broken? Yes, but this was not a great option given the distance I lived from work.

    It looked like my best option was to pay a repair shop to fix it for me. I was sad and disappointed, as I saw my savings account balance plummet back down to almost nothing after paying for the repair.

    I was struggling to get enthusiastic about continuing with my savings plan after the setback. Why bother?

    Then, I happened to see a reference to a quote attributed to Albert Einstein, “The most important decision we make is whether we live in a friendly or hostile universe.”

    The universe sure seemed hostile to me at the time. The quote sparked my curiosity. Can we really make a decision about what type of universe we live in?

    What if the universe wasn’t being mean but was being friendly?

    I decided to test out this new way of thinking.

    Instead of acting like everything was happening to hurt me, I shifted my attitude. What if this situation was happening for my benefit?

    I started digging around in my mind, looking for any thoughts about what could be of benefit to me in the situation.

    I was grateful that my car was working again and that I could travel to my job. I was grateful for the job, which was allowing me to pay for my living expenses. I was grateful that I had developed the ability to save.

    I didn’t have to let this one financial setback define my future.

    All of these new thoughts helped me go from thinking that the situation was unfair to something more empowering.

    I now knew, without a doubt, from experience, that it was a good idea to save for a rainy day. This created a burning desire in me to keep saving for future unexpected expenses.

    I resolved to overcome the situation with my depleted savings and try again.

    I started all over with my savings plan. This time was a little different because I also stopped entertaining tempting thoughts about spending my emergency savings on something unnecessary like a wild shopping spree or an expensive trip.

    Looking back, I notice how my view of the situation changed even though the situation itself didn’t change. No one arrived on the scene to rescue me. I still needed to drain my savings account to pay for the car repair.

    What changed was my attitude about the situation.

    Thinking about the universe being friendly helped me stop beating myself up and start treating myself like a friend with my thoughts.       

    The next time you feel like things are happening against you in your life, try the following:

    1. Make friends with the situation.

    My initial negative thoughts about my car repair situation were only serving to cause me to suffer.

    Shifting my attitude and searching for more positive thoughts changed the meaning of the situation.

    Instead of feeling stuck and hopeless, I started seeing opportunities to improve my situation that were within my control. This allowed me to become more optimistic about the permanence of the current situation and also about my future.

    2. Explore gratitude.

    Is there anything about the experience that you can be grateful for?

    Exploring gratitude made me more aware of the things that were beneficial in my life that I was taking for granted. Appreciating what I had in my life helped me to feel more positive about my circumstances.

    3. Look for the lesson.

    When difficult things happen, look for the lesson you are learning and how you might be growing from the experience.

    It has been many years since my experience with my car and savings account, and I realize now that I may have needed that little kick from the universe to help me grow and learn about the benefits of having funds set aside for emergencies.

    One of the best lessons to learn is that it is possible to choose your attitude and shift your thoughts to a more positive track.

    While it may not always be easy, if you treat the universe like it is your friend, you may just find that the universe mirrors your friendship right back to you.

    Happy man image via Shutterstock

  • Are Limiting Beliefs Holding You Back and Making You Feel Bad?

    Are Limiting Beliefs Holding You Back and Making You Feel Bad?

    Held Back

    “If you believe yourself to be limited in some way, whether or not it is true, it becomes true for you.” ~Brian Tracy

    I have often wondered why the most formative years of one’s life, in early childhood, tend to be the hardest for us to recall.

    Most of us cannot even begin to tap into those memories. Those scant memories that do bubble up to the surface are often fog-tinged and dreamlike. Images or sensations may appear, but the linear, day-to-day recollection evades us.

    Perhaps Mother Nature does have a sense of humor, because, oddly enough, it is usually only those traumatic or intense moments of our lives that seem to come up.

    Can I remember winning the sack race when I was six? No. Do I recall my first day of school? I remember in vivid detail walking up to the school gates clutching onto my mother’s legs, panicking that I would never make any friends.

    I have always thought that these types of memories don’t simply vanish into thin air but rather get stored somewhere in our subconscious.

    The problem is that we don’t know the password to access them. The same can be said for things people said to us when we were young children. Those words and life lessons, whether positive or negative, became imprinted on our psyche.

    If you were one of the lucky children that constantly heard “The world is your oyster” or “You can do anything you set your mind to,” you probably carried these beliefs into adulthood.

    The positive reinforcement received from a young age seems to sustain a secure sense of self, which guides these people through their lives. More often than not, they turn out to be successful, because why wouldn’t they?

    (Of course, there are those that receive positive reinforcement from a young age yet somehow morph into self-entitled monsters, but that’s another article.)

    If others tell you, and you believe, that there is nothing stopping you from achieving your dreams, then chances are you will take more risks in life and your life rewards will increase exponentially.

    But what if the opposite were true? What if you were constantly fed a diet of negativity as a child?

    If others regularly told you that “You will never amount to anything” and that “You are worthless,” what kind of foundation do you think that provided? A shaky one, and from shaky foundations come insecurity and a wavering sense of self.

    Sure, some people who have this kind of upbringing find great success in life, but it is often overcompensation for this self-limiting belief that spurs people on to greater heights and bigger lives.

    The drive comes from a need to prove that what they heard as children was wrong; it’s not a drive emanating from the belief “I deserve this” or, to quote L’Oreal, “because I’m worth it.”

    I strongly believe that whatever our parents (or parental figures) told us during these formative years remains in our bodies on a subconscious level.

    Have you ever had a situation when someone said or did something to you that felt like it struck a nerve? Did someone make a comment to you that unexpectedly brought back a plethora of sensations, fears, or worries that you haven’t felt in years? How does that happen?

    We subconsciously reinforce those messages and viewpoints that our loved ones continually reinforced until they become our very own beliefs.

    And then we unknowingly pass them on to our children, and on and on the cycle spins. But what would life be like if you could learn to separate yourself from a belief pattern that has no foundation of truth but nonetheless has a hold over you?

    My self-limiting belief revolves around money and my attitude toward it. From a young age my parents worked very hard, holding multiple jobs and doing everything in their power to give us what we needed.

    As they built their business together, their lives and incomes improved; however, their attitudes toward money did not.

    Having come from a place of lack, they didn’t want us to find ourselves in that same place. So the constant message was that saving money is important, and they frowned upon spending frivolously. We learned that you buy only what you need.

    While these financial beliefs helped me greatly in certain aspects of my life, I’ve run into some residual issues as a result. In the dominant memories of shopping with my mother, the all important question was not “Do you like it?” but rather “How much is it?”

    My mother did not encourage spending on anything but the basics, and she hardly ever splurged on herself.

    I internalized the message that it is a bad thing to treat yourself to nice things.

    Years later, despite having worked hard to find myself in a financially stable position, the first thing I do when out shopping is to look at the price tag. The voice in my head tells me it’s too expensive. I tell myself, “You don’t need this; what are you thinking?”

    In the event that I decide that I do, in fact, need it and like it very much, I drag myself to the register yet spend a good thirty minutes afterward berating myself.

    I am fully aware that I do this, but can’t seem to stop myself.

    The first step toward change is awareness, and I am consciously aware that I’m a work in progress.

    These days when I find myself in the midst of a heated argument with myself in the fitting room mirror, I give myself a pep talk. “Do you like it? Can you afford it?” If the answer is a resounding “yes,” I go right ahead.

    So, what’s your self-limiting belief? How does this way of thinking hold you back in life? By encouraging an open dialogue, we can begin to free ourselves from the invisible shackles of these negative beliefs.

    The more we hear, read, or speak a word or phrase, the more power it has over us. By staying aware and refuting these beliefs as they come up, their authority starts to wane.

    Being consciously aware that we have the power to choose how we think can be wonderfully liberating. We no longer need to react according to some outdated belief system that we inherited, which doesn’t serve our highest potential.

    What we choose to shine a light on can no longer carry a hold over us. So maybe it’s time to get out the flashlight, get really honest, and work through those beliefs that no longer serve us so we can put them where they belong, in the trash.

    Held back image via Shutterstock

  • How to Be Sure External Factors Aren’t Affecting Your Decision

    How to Be Sure External Factors Aren’t Affecting Your Decision

    Standing at a Crossroad

    “Don’t make a permanent decision for your temporary emotion.” ~Unknown

    It was a beautiful day today. The sun shone brightly, kissing my face and warming my bones, the sky was as blue as a lover’s eyes, and there were those little fluffy clouds that seem like aimless but happy sheep floating gently in the sky.

    And my heart sang.

    I felt joy deep down in my soul.

    I smiled at bus drivers and baristas alike.

    Nothing could dent my good mood.

    Currently mulling over medium-term plans (I started living as a digital nomad two years ago), I started to consider seriously the idea of a short-term let in the English countryside, or a house-sit in some glorious old farmhouse surrounded by living green or golden fields, a cat on my lap, a dog by my feet, and chickens out back.

    Whooooah Nelly.

    I snapped back to reality with a click, the sunlight suddenly seeming harsh instead of kind, the blue of the sky austere instead of abundant, and the sheep in the sky suddenly moving with threatening purpose.

    I’ve been living in Thailand for nearly two years now, drawn there initially to experience something other than the total-work-immersion and the health issues that had previously dominated my life.

    Gradually, as I had begun to understand more the activities that brought me delight and awoke my passions, I eased into building a life there.

    I was happy to come back to the UK for periods of four to six weeks, a couple of times a year, but I wasn’t currently planning on living there. Not right now, anyway.

    It was then I was reminded how much our environment—in this case, the weather—affects our emotions and moods.

    It was easy to see how much the weather that day was influencing me. And I could remember lots of times when cold days and drizzle had made everything seem a little bit harder, a little bit more difficult to bear, a little more wearing on body and soul.

    And I wondered what other decisions I might have made in those circumstances, unconscious of the fact that the weather might have been influencing how I chose to move forward.

    Had I rejected social opportunities because my body had withdrawn into the comfort of sofa and duvet on days with biting winter winds?

    Had I declined to return a phone call from a recruiter that might have brought new possibilities because I didn’t want to take my gloves off on a cold day?

    Had I turned down a second date with a potential lover because the idea of trekking into the city to meet him in the rain felt like too much trouble?

    Alternatively, when the sun was shining, haloing those around me with a golden light, had I given people the benefit of the doubt?

    Had the energy to be kind to strangers?

    Gone out of my way to visit friends and family to share the warmth that the sun had brought me with them?

    This all led me to consider what other unseen or unheard things influence the decisions I make—decisions I think I am making independently, through my own free will.

    Environment, weather, the people I’ve just seen, the people I’m about to see, a song on the radio, the colors in the café where I’m writing out my pros and cons list.

    Buying a house is a classic example. Estate agents try to take photos of houses with a blue sky, with spring the best time to sell a house in the western hemisphere, and the sullen month of January the worst.

    There’s no question we can be influenced more than we realize by external factors. Marketing relies on this. But we can grow our awareness, and free ourselves from at least some of the stuff that isn’t really “us.”

    Here are my suggestions for how to ensure any decision you make is as much “yours” as it can be.

    1. Listen to your gut, then wait.

    This is one of the reasons I think it’s always a good idea to make a decision and then sit on it for a day or so.

    It’s taken me a long time to really hear my gut, and listen to my inner self. It’s important to listen to our instincts as part of any decision-making process, and combine that with experience, logic, and time to make the best possible decision.

    2. Consider your choice in different environments and difficult circumstances.

    Does it seem as good an idea in the dark night as it does in the bright day? In the cold as in the warm?

    In the dead of night, alone in bed I sometimes experience huge anxiety about things that in the day wouldn’t trouble me at all. I know now not to make a decision based on that anxiety alone.

    3. Get to know yourself better.

    Do you know what moods different external factors put you in? Do you love summer rain, or being cosy by the fire in autumn? Or do colorful spring flowers and snow at Christmas put you in a good mood?

    When you know what’s likely to increase your optimism or pessimism, when you’re thinking about a decision, take this into account.

    4. Track your moods.

    Moodscope.com is great for this. This engaging online tool presents you with twenty different emotions and asks you, via flipping cards, to rate yourself on each feeling every day. This can give you a very clear understanding of how you feel each day, and can help you to make your decisions accordingly.

    5. Make more of an effort.

    When you know you’re being affected negatively by outside circumstances, go out of your way to be kind not only to others, but to yourself.

    Hold off on big decisions where you can, and don’t sweat small decisions; it really doesn’t matter if you have the pasta or the risotto for your dinner. Have the other one another time.

    —

    Reminding ourselves that our emotions affect our decision-making, and that our emotions in turn are affected by many external factors, can help us to step back and understand how we are actually making a decision.

    As with many human processes, it’s not quite as simple as it looks, but it doesn’t take much to think about what else is going on, and allow for it.

    Man at a crossroad image via Shutterstock

  • 5 Practices to Help You Let Go and Embrace Change

    5 Practices to Help You Let Go and Embrace Change

    Embrace Change

    “Letting go isn’t the end of the world; it’s the beginning of a new life.” ~Unknown

    The summer I turned twenty, I worked as a camp counselor at an educational camp with strict rules. As one of my responsibilities, I escorted groups of fifteen to twenty students, ranging in age from middle school to high school, to and from their classes and activities across a large urban campus.

    I was in charge of a group of spoiled, rebellious sixteen and seventeen-year-olds who would rather be spending their summer anywhere but at an academic camp.

    Because I was only a few years older than them, I had some difficulty controlling their behavior—camp rules required that I confiscate cell phones, discourage talking during class, and deal with a shoplifting incident at the campus store.

    After a few weeks on the job, I was feeling overwhelmed. The older students would sabotage us by making us late for every class. They’d goof around, stall by pretending to tie their shoes, or stand in traffic.

    My tactics—telling them repeatedly to hurry up, calling out to them that we’d be late as they lagged far behind crossing streets, and listing the reasons we had to walk faster—weren’t doing me any good. I was sick of repeating myself, I was losing my voice, and my approach wasn’t getting the results I wanted.

    So one day, out of desperation, I tried the opposite of what I had been doing. Instead of putting so much energy into trying to control them and be on time, I let go.

    I continued walking with the younger kids and let the older ones walk behind us at whatever pace they wanted. I pretended to ignore them (while still keeping an eye on them since I was solely responsible for their safety). By letting go, something strange happened: we all arrived at the class faster than ever.

    Giving them a little space and taking my attention off them probably made them feel more mature and independent, like they were walking on their own. Instead of leading by micromanaging, I stepped back and tried to care less in order to get the results I wanted.

    If you find yourself up against a wall, maybe you’re trying to force things. Paradoxically, letting go and loosening your control can pave the way for you to achieve what you desire.

    It’s not about un-attaching yourself from the outcome you want. I still wanted compliance and respect from the campers, but I decided to go about achieving that in a different way. This shifting mindset is like a tiny gear changing, but it can make a profound difference.

    When was the last time you hit a wall and tried shifting your perspective to reach a solution? How can you cultivate and encourage such a mindset in your daily life to think differently? Here are five small practices to help you learn to embrace change and harness your creativity.

    1. Mix up your routines.

    You may be stuck in ruts you don’t even realize. Brush your teeth with your non-dominant hand. (It’s surprisingly difficult, and it enhances creativity by building new neural pathways in the brain.) If you’re right-handed, try using your left hand to move your mouse cursor for an afternoon.

    Shift the arrangement of the apps on your phone, or change up the order and organization of the files on your computer desktop. It can be very disorienting at first, but just try something new and getting over your initial resistance is the hardest part.

    2. Experiment with new tastes.

    At the start of each month, make a list of foods (guava, figs, buffalo jerky) that you’ve never tasted. It can be as simple as sampling a new kind of cheese.

    It’s reassuring and comforting to hold on to our old, trusted standbys, but you never know what could become your new favorite food. I didn’t try mango or pomegranate seeds until last year, but now they’re two of my all-time favorite fruits.

    3. Add playfulness to your day.

    The next time you’re at a coffee shop or restaurant, why not order with a British or Indian accent (if you’re not British or Indian)? Stick to your accent the whole time, or switch it up in mid conversation and try to keep a straight face.

    Or, if you’re shopping for clothes, pick one item to try on that’s something you’d never wear. You’ll (hopefully) at least get a laugh, but being playful can also open you up to considering new ways of doing routine tasks, helping to gently expand your perspective as you see more possibilities than the obvious, logical ones.

    4. Reach out to others.

    Let go of any inclination to be too inwardly focused by observing and commenting on your surroundings. Compliment a stranger on a piece of jewelry he or she is wearing, or ask a stranger for directions somewhere.

    If you seek out interactions each day or each week that you wouldn’t otherwise have had, you may be surprised by the cumulative effect they can have on your creativity. It can also open you up to more opportunities that you otherwise would have missed if you hadn’t stepped out of your own headspace.

    5. Clear out old stuff.

    For twelve years, I had an alarm clock that was a comforting presence since it was the first thing I saw each morning. I realized I no longer needed it, but I didn’t want to abruptly let go of it.

    So, I took baby steps by first just unplugging the alarm clock. Then, I moved it down on the floor. After a few days, I put it in a brown bag so it was out of sight. A few days after that, I put the bag by the door, and then the next day I donated the alarm clock.

    If we resist the little changes in our lives, we have a much harder time dealing with the big changes. When a certain method isn’t working for you, take a step back, clarify what you want to accomplish, and open yourself up to approaching the problem in a different way. Letting go can feel scary, but it can also bring you to something better.

    Man with arms outstretched image via Shutterstock

  • How I’m Getting Past Internal Resistance So I Can Live a Life I Love

    How I’m Getting Past Internal Resistance So I Can Live a Life I Love

    “Your actions are your only true belongings.” ~Allan Lokos

    This is not a piece about a person who has already finished her journey. I am not here to tell you that I’ve emerged from a dark place into a place of ease, or that I’ve discovered a profound new way of being that shields me from daily stresses.

    I wish I could tell you those things. I love to read about successes like that.

    Instead, I am in a messy stage of my journey, holding on to the glimmers of joy that I feel throughout each day, dreaming and journaling and not getting enough sleep.

    I am transitioning to a different life path as we speak.

    I take each day as its own adventure, knowing that I will feel any combination of boredom, happiness, depression, anxiety, and curiosity. Knowing that it’s okay for change to be complicated, that it’s okay to be confused one minute and excited the next as long as I keep asking questions and keep looking for answers.

    There’s no avoiding this part of the journey, the part where you peel back the layers of who you were and make room for who you will be. Where you shake free from the comforts and limiting beliefs you’ve been living under, where you consider if the life you’ve been living truly reflects who you are.

    This is the scary part. The part where you feel guilty or ashamed or sad that it took you this long to acknowledge your dreams. It’s hard to know when this part will end. All you can do is keep moving and know that those answers will come.

    For the past five years my life has not reflected who I truly am, as I’ve worked a job that bored me so deeply that my soul quietly settled down to sleep.

    On one hand, I am grateful for this job, grateful for the boredom-induced depression that shook me gently but steadily until I finally dusted myself off to search for something more.

    I am grateful for the months of utter paralysis, as I knew I was somehow meant to stretch my creative spirit but did not understand what that looked like or how it sustained me.

    I aim to forgive the part of myself that argued it was “too late,” and that I should just accept the steady job with no questions asked.

    And so I remained as patient as I could. I asked friends to describe my strengths, I vented to my journal. I cried and read inspirational blogs until my eyes reddened. I closed my eyes and meditated, waiting for the light bulb moment to provide me my core beliefs and purpose.

    I’m grateful I did not give up. That I have not given up, still.

    My breakthrough came a year and a half into my journey. One and a half years of reading and thinking and hoping for more. And suddenly, with little warning:

    I think I’m supposed to do visual art, written quickly into my journal.

    Isn’t it funny how life surprises you? I didn’t see this coming; I hadn’t pursued art in my twenties or dreamed of someday being a full-time artist. I let the thought sit for months, afraid of it, thinking I must have misheard my yearnings.

    And so I waited until the thought reemerged four months later. Stronger now, more insistent.

    And I am grateful I listened.

    My journey has changed shape, as journeys often do if you let them, softly tugging me into a makeshift studio after work each evening where I paint and write and remind myself to take big, soothing breaths.

    I’m still not a full-time artist yet, but every day is an adventure still, asking me only that if I haven’t yet found my confidence, to please get up each day and try anyway. And so I get up each day and I try, even when I’m overwhelmed and tired, even when my next steps are unclear.

    One of my favorite mentors, Marie Forleo, has often said clarity comes from engagement, which is a hard concept for those of us who plan endlessly and write everything down multiple times so that we can avoid actually taking that first step.

    That first step, which supports the next and the next, is the most important of all.

    Without action, my journey would be back at square one, huddled under the weight of my doubts and fears.

    Without action, my soul would still be asleep, unable to consider a different future.

    Without action, I would not cherish these moments of actual joy, my paint brush in hand. I would not know they existed.

    And so the question becomes: have you been listening?

    Do you feel the tugs, however quiet, that will lead you in a new direction? I know many of us are so good at ignoring these whispers, resisting the changes that feel so big and scary and new that we can’t imagine where the journey will lead.

    Today, I want you to act, acknowledging your resistance with empathy as you move forward anyway. I want you to get messy and uncomfortable, even if that simply means facing your fears in the pages of your journal.

    If you are just at the beginning, or perhaps even in the middle of your journey as I am, remember: you are capable of joy. Now how will you create it?

  • When You Want to Make a Change but Feel Confused and Scared

    When You Want to Make a Change but Feel Confused and Scared

    “Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

    Have you ever had an inner knowing that it was time to make some life changes, but you felt too confused to make them?

    I’ve certainly felt that way a time or two. After I graduated college years ago, I felt completely confused about what I was going to do with my life. I was asking myself questions like: How am I going to find meaning? What should I do for a career? How can I make my dreams a reality?

    But what if you feel so confused about your life that you end up doing nothing?

    I remember moving home after college, lying in bed and reading fiction books for hours. I wanted to escape from the intense confusion and endless questions running through my mind.

    The reality is, I was scared. I was scared to start a job, but also scared not to. I was scared to move away from the comforts of home, but deep down I couldn’t wait to get out. I was scared of the unknown, but also excited by the fact that anything could happen!

    I was afraid to make a change, so I tricked myself into thinking that it was too complicated and confusing. For a couple months I did nothing, and my frustration grew.

    Fear-based confusion is when you have an inner knowing that things are “off,” or you want to make a major life change, but you feel too confused to take action.

    It seems like there are too many problems, unknowns, reasons why-not, or decisions that are too difficult to make. So you stay confused.

    Does this sound familiar? Maybe you’re confused about making a career change, moving to a new city, ending a relationship, or getting your finances in order. I think we’ve all experienced this fear-gripping confusion in one form or another, and I know how frustrating it can feel.

    I’ve noticed that when you’re aware we’re confused because we’re scared, it can drastically reduce your stress about it.

    You’re certainly not alone or helpless. And luckily, fear-based confusion is easy to move beyond. Below are my top ways to move through life confusion and finally get clear on what you want so you can take action toward it.

    1. Follow your excitement.

    If the fear runs deep, following your excitement will help. For example, instead of trying to answer the question, “What should I do with my life?” ask yourself, “What excites me right now?”

    Make a list of all the activities and experiences that excite you, but try not to judge your list. For example, simply riding my bike to a local cafe for some homemade chai in the morning really excites me. It doesn’t matter if things on your list seem small or insignificant.

    There are several benefits to following what excites you in this moment. One, you start to feel more excited about your life. And two, your excitement usually leads you to people and experiences that will help you set a direction for yourself (more on this below).

    Follow what excites you now, and know that your sources of excitement are going to shift and change as you grow.

    Following your excitement is much less daunting than trying to figure out your whole life. In addition, it leaves room for expansion and gives you the freedom to continually try new things.

    2. Decide on your direction.

    Decide very clearly on the direction you want to go in. Making a clear decision is the quickest way out of confusion. I know this sounds obvious, but sometimes we have insane inner thoughts that hold us back. Thoughts like, “I’m not good enough” or “I don’t deserve this.”

    But you most definitely are good enough, and you do deserve peace no matter what you’re telling yourself. Believe in yourself enough to make a decision and know that you will make the right one. Don’t worry about making a “bad” decision. In my opinion, making no decision at all is often worse.

    In my example above, after a couple of months living with my parents and sinking deeper into my confusion, I decided to pack a backpack and travel to Spain. I didn’t really have any idea how that was going to help me answer my “big” life questions, but it excited me.

    When I got back home from that trip, I felt confident and even more excited. I then made the concrete decision to move across the country to Northern California, and that completely changed everything for me.

    The point is, it didn’t really matter what I did. It was my initial decision to do something that got me out of my confusion.

    Once you make the initial decision, the Universe will start to provide you with people and experiences that help you move forward. Breathe, become aware of how your decision feels in your body, and act on whatever option has a sense of lightness and openness to it.

    3. Release your expectations.

    Expectations lead to disappointment. Usually, when we finally make the decision to change, we proceed to come up with a detailed plan for how it should all go down. We immediately search for something that will make us feel secure in the face of change.

    But the truth is, you can manifest change much more quickly when you open yourself up the all the possibilities that you haven’t even thought of yet.

    It’s perfectly okay to focus on what you want, but I like to try and leave the details to the Universe and simply focus on what I’m excited and capable of doing right now. This allows you to feel joy now instead of making your joy dependant on a certain outcome in the future.

    You are meant to be here. As you focus on following what excites you in this moment, the clouds of confusion begin to part and you can see your direction more clearly. Then, moving toward it with inner confidence becomes natural.

    It’s okay to feel vulnerable in the process, but I know from experience that the vulnerability associated with change is completely worth it. You’re worth it. Don’t let the confusion hold you back a moment longer. Once you take the first step, everything else will unfold for you.

  • Pacing Yourself When You Want the Pain to Stop

    Pacing Yourself When You Want the Pain to Stop

    Pace Yourself

    “The intensity of the pain depends on the degree of resistance to the present moment.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    I was in pain.

    My legs hurt, I felt nauseated, my heart thumped hard and fast, and I labored for every breath.

    I was halfway up a steep, three-mile hill, and I was so exhausted I could barely keep my bike upright.

    My mind tried desperately to solve this problem: “Should I stop? I should stop. No! I’ve done this hill in the past without stopping—what’s the problem this time? I hate this! Why is this so painful?”

    I glanced over at my riding buddy, Keila. She was pedaling slowly and methodically. I couldn’t hear her breathing at all. Of course, it was hard to hear over my loud gasps.

    I uttered an expletive.

    I kept going. The road stayed the same, but I suffered more and more.

    After twenty more minutes of cardiovascular hell, we reached the top of the hill.

    I unclipped from my pedals and stood over my bike, elbows on the handlebar, head hanging as I tried to regain my breath.

    In the middle of a wheeze I looked over at Keila. She was standing over her bike, too. But she was on her phone texting someone. No sign of struggle there.

    After a few minutes, I was able to stand upright and Keila was done texting. We had climbed this hill together many times. Today had been a bad, bad day for me.

    Still panting, I said to Keila, “That was awful. I wonder why it was so hard this time?”

    A wise and observant young woman, Keila softly replied, “It’s because when you start to suffer, you speed up. And then you get mad.”

    I looked at her for a moment and then, despite my still thudding heart, I laughed.

    She was right.

    An experienced cyclist, Keila acted as my coach when I first started riding. One of the things she always had a hard time getting me to understand was how to pace myself, especially going uphill.

    I had actually become fairly good at it, but today I had forgotten the lesson. Today, when I came to a very steep section of the challenging hill, I tried to speed up to make the pain stop.

    But then I didn’t have enough energy for the rest of the climb and really struggled.

    Out of fuel and suffering, I got angry and swore at the pain and myself.

    After I recovered from the ride, I started thinking about what Keila said:

    “When you start to suffer, you speed up. And then you get mad.”

    I began to wonder if this manifested itself in my life off the bike, too.

    It didn’t take long to see the pattern.

    • Averse to being in conflict with anyone, I often sped up during disagreements, either acquiescing to the other person or abruptly cutting them out of my life.
    • Times of confusion or indecision also caused me to speed up such that I would make impulsive choices just so I wouldn’t have to suffer any longer with being unsettled.
    • At the beginning of a long period of deep and heavy grief, I quickly latched onto someone I thought would help me get past the pain only to have that person bring me more heartache and sadness.
    • And, during some of these times of indecision, confusion, conflict, or sadness, I used anger as a motivator to propel me into action, but again, usually in a rash, compulsive manner.

    Inevitably, these “speed up maneuvers” backfired on me. I ended up regretting choices I made, cut off people I would have enjoyed keeping in my life, and lost myself in the process of getting the pain to stop.

    But I also noticed that as I’ve aged and become more conscious of my speed up maneuvers, I’ve learned to pace myself more. To move more slowly and with greater awareness of my actions and their outcomes.

    And I’ve learned that pacing myself doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

    When I’m on my bike and climbing a hill, I still get to a point that I’m suffering no matter what I do.

    But when I pace myself rather than try to outrace the pain, I have confidence that I can both tolerate the suffering and make it to the top of the hill.

    So now, when I pace myself during life’s struggles, I don’t hold on to illusions that it’s not going to hurt in some way.

    I have confidence in the knowledge that slowing down and moving forward with awareness will allow me to manage the suffering so that I can make it to the top of whatever emotional hill lies in front of me.

    I encourage you to identify your speed up maneuvers.

    What do you do when you’re suffering?

    What are the ways you try to get the pain to stop that only drain your energy and cause you to struggle even more?

    How can you pace yourself so that, even though moving forward may still hurt, you can make it to the top of the hill?

    On our next ride, I told Keila about my insights that sprang from her quiet observation of my cycling struggles.

    She laughed gently and said, “Everything that happens on the bike relates to what happens off the bike, Bobbi.”

    Amen to that, Keila.

    Amen to that.

    Tired man image via Shutterstock

  • How I Broke Free from Depression When I Felt Suicidal

    How I Broke Free from Depression When I Felt Suicidal

    “I’m stronger because of the hard times, wiser because of my mistakes, and happier because I have known sadness.” ~Unknown

    I was diagnosed with clinical depression and prescribed anti-depressants when I was twenty-one years old. I refer to this point in my life as the “Dark Ages.”

    Leading up to grad school, I’d suddenly become afflicted with incomprehensible despair.

    At seventeen, for the first time (at least for the first time I could remember), I considered suicide. I felt as if life should’ve been more than what it was. I had a deep sense that I was supposed to be contributing something spectacular to the world, to the tune of curing cancer or working with AIDS patients in Africa.

    As such, I fell short of my ideal self, and this illusion ravaged my soul. So I emptied a parents’ prescription medication into my palm, retreated into my room, and prepared for my tragic exit.

    As I was bringing the pills to my mouth, I heard the ring of an incoming instant message. I’d forgotten to sign offline. This friend of mine spent the next hour or so hearing me out. I was literally saved by the bell.

    But my despair kept visiting me like a persistent acquaintance that wanted to be more than friends. By the time I was in grad school, he’d showed himself in and made himself comfortable, asking me how long he could stay this time.

    I didn’t have an answer for him because I was getting comfortable playing house with the ole chap, until one day I realized I’d locked myself in with him, condemning myself to be a prisoner in what soon evolved into his house. We were cellmates, he and I.

    At times, I felt empty. Only a shell of a person. At other times, I felt overwhelming hopelessness and sobbed without end, uncontrollably and inconsolably.

    Still, other times I felt rage over my past, which was stained with childhood sexual abuse. And then there were the times I simply felt like being silent and alone.

    I was at the bottom of a shadowy well, and the sunlight above seemed impossibly out of reach. Could I ever climb out of this? I wondered. Or was I doomed to forever suffer this terrible fate, plagued with suicidal ideation, loneliness, and raw debilitating emotions for the rest of my life?

    As it were, I found a way out.

    It wasn’t easy. I wouldn’t lie to you.

    And yes, there are still times when I lose my way and unintentionally trip back into that old, dark well.

    But I’m stronger these days, and I’m able to catch a protruding ledge on my way down and hold my weight.

    I’m strong enough to climb back out. In fact, I’ve never fallen all the way to the bottom again, but even if I did, I’ve developed an interminable tenacity that will always see me climbing toward the sunlight one more time.

    So how did I do it?

    First, I freed myself from prison.

    That is to say, I owned my story. As I hailed from an evangelical Christian background at the time, it was a struggle to come out with regards to depression (as it is with any giant we face). The doctrine of many such religious institutions asserts that if you only believe enough, pray enough, fast enough, give enough…then your trial will pass.

    Miracles certainly can and still do occur, but the problem with such doctrines is the failure to realize that some afflictions are meant to remain with us—whether to assist us with our own personal development or to raise the collective consciousness of those around us.

    Further, people often find that they have no reason to own a “sob story.” This is perhaps one of the biggest locks on silence’s prison. We believe only people with certain circumstances deserve to be depressed. If, however, you are successful, loved, and seem to have it all, then what reason have you to feel sad?

    Unfortunately, people don’t realize that this is precisely what some forms of the attack take—feeling despair even when there are no external reasons why you should feel that way.

    Whatever your cause, the first step in taking the reins back where it concerns your life is to simply own your story and admit to yourself what you feel.

    Next, share your story.

    I never really saw myself as a potential poster child for sexual abuse survivorship or for mental health. All I knew was that every time I shared my story with someone, I felt my heart cast off a dead weight and become lighter.

    Know this: Repression only causes further depression. The more you resist your story, the more you push it deeper into the recesses of your soul, the more likely it is that your depression and silence will take physical manifestation (for me: panic attacks, among other things).

    The cure? Share your story. Yes, it will be scary at first, but you’ll soon be amazed by the sense of liberation and freedom that you feel shortly afterward. Share it with a friend. A family member. A support group. Share it on an online forum. Share it below in the comments if you’d like. Just share it!

    When we do away with silence, we not only free ourselves from its prison but we build community with each other and force loneliness to dissolve.

    Lastly, declare war.

    I had to make a decision. Was I going to let depression collar me up and take me out for walks whenever it so chose, or was I going to reverse roles and become the master of my own life?

    Was I going to fight this?

    Was I going to throw ropes down that old familiar well so that on days when I did trip and fall in, I’d have something to hold on to?

    Yes, I decided. I was. I owed it to myself. Because I was worthy. Because I deserved love. Because I deserved peace. And so do you.

    Our wars, like any war out there, are fraught with countless battles. It’s also entirely a trial-and-error type of warfare you’ll be enacting. Sometimes you’ll be on the offense; sometimes on the defense. Sometimes you’ll feel winded with defeat; other times you’ll feel high with triumph.

    What’s important to remember is that everyone is different. What works for one person may not work for you. What works for you for one season may not work in the next.

    You have to commit to continually finding new weapons and keeping the ones that are most effective. My own arsenal has consisted of things like: yoga, meditation, breath work, community, hobbies, exercise, professional help, medication, music, and more.

    And my encouragement to you would be to try all of these things and then some, and constantly evaluate and assess their impact on you.

    But what I most what you to remember, my sweet kindred soul, is that you are so much more than a diagnosis; and more importantly, you are not alone.

    I stand with you—as do millions of others around the world. And I believe hope can be yours. I believe, in fact, that hope already lives inside of you.

    It’s the voice deep in your heart that keeps you going, day after day. It’s what compelled you to even read this post. It’s the stirring up inside of you that wonders at a brighter tomorrow.

    Together, I believe we can combine the energy of our individual hopes until they come an unstoppable cosmic force that not even the most relentless of giants can contend with until we’ve reached every last one of us with the message our souls yearn to hear: you are not alone, you are loved, and we will stand with you through every storm that comes your way.

  • How to Use Your Anger to Help Yourself

    How to Use Your Anger to Help Yourself

    “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to a better understanding of ourselves.” ~Carl Jung

    I’ve experienced many degrees of anger throughout my life.

    There’s the fleeting and mild kind of anger that hit me when I realized I forgot to pack my toothbrush, or when a friend was tardy again for our morning hike.

    Then, there’s the corroding and strong kind of anger that I felt when I discovered that my husband had been lying to me for months.

    Half-truths about his after-work activities and the people he met during those activities led to an affair, and the affair led to more half-truths and bigger lies.

    I was angry with my husband for lying, but also with myself for not having noticed the first signs of dishonesty. Later, I was irate for being so naïve to give him multiple chances to change his behavior, only to be deceived again.

    Angry thoughts would materialize seemingly out of nowhere, and every time the Angry Monster attacked, I felt the urgent need to hide it away before anyone would realize that I had become prey to this negative emotion.

    If I am a good person, I thought, I shouldn’t feel anger.

    We grew up hearing that anger is a weakness. Anger is shameful. Anger is like one of those buzzing mosquitoes that must be squashed before it bites us. Anger is a monster. But now I know that’s not all there is to anger.

    I’ve learned that anger can actually be helpful if we know how to manage it. How? Read on.

    Anger can help you know yourself better.

    I understood that the intense anger I experienced when my husband lied to me shows I deeply value honesty and openness. This allowed me to prioritize these qualities in future relationships.

    Keep in mind that when someone does something that makes you angry, you have the opportunity to learn what your personal values are.

    Also, when anger strikes, take a step back and ask yourself why you’re angry. Are you offended by something that was said to you? This might mean that there is a hint of truth in what the other person said.

    Contemplate offensive comments with an objective mind. If you realize there’s some truth in the statement, use it as an opportunity to become a better person. If you conclude that the comment has no real basis, then you can send it to the trash folder of your mind.

    Anger can help you raise your energy level and move out of depression and despair.

    Based on scientific studies of the energy associated with human emotions, anger calibrates at a higher energy level than hopelessness, apathy, or despair.

    My anger propelled me to try new activities and meet new people to show the world I was reclaiming my dignity and my future.

    Next time anger surfaces, let it drive you to take positive action and to change the unpleasant circumstances in your life.

    You can choose to reject the labels society has assigned to anger.

    When you feel ashamed for being angry, as society says you should feel, you let yourself sink to low energy emotions.

    Your shame and guilt, coupled with repressed anger, can negatively affect your body and create conditions such as heart disease, digestive problems, and weakness of the immune system. Worst of all, you’ll be unable to experience authentic joy.

    One day I asked myself why being angry was such a source of shame. That’s when I realized I had been judging my emotions based on the messages I had received from my environment. These messages were not helping me feel good enough to let go of my anger.

    Instead of becoming a victim of society’s expectations, choose to see anger as an emotion that is part of the human experience and a tool that can help you become a better person.

    You have the power to select how to express your anger.

    Angry people are portrayed as bitter or aggressive, but this doesn’t have to be the case for you.

    Kickboxing became my physical outlet to release any residual angry feelings. You could choose to express your anger through journaling, sharing your feelings with a trusted friend, or going for the fastest three-mile run of your life!

    You decide how long to be angry.

    I realized that although I could use anger in positive ways, it was stealing my ability to be happy.

    I knew I deserved to be happy again, so I reminded myself that I had a choice to let go every time my angry thoughts surfaced. Over time, it became easier to return to a state of peace and contentment.

    You can choose to take advantage of the lessons in your anger, and then let the feelings go. Tell your anger that you’re too busy making the best out of your time to allow him in your life for long!

  • Working on Impatience and Appreciating Its Gifts

    Working on Impatience and Appreciating Its Gifts

    Man Running

    “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” ~Marcel Proust  

    It’s taken me a while, but I have finally learned to appreciate aspects of my own impatience.

    For a long time I did not like this quality about myself. I am still working on becoming more patient, because impatience and I go way back.

    I was impatient to get out of high school, so I fast tracked that whole experience.

    I was impatient to get working, so I started working when I was fourteen.

    I was impatient to finish university, so I rushed through it, while working up to thirty-five hours a week, not stopping to enjoy myself or have fun.

    My daughter was impatient to be born, so she came early, and so did my son.

    I wanted to move up the corporate ladder fast, so I sprinted and pushed and worked all kinds of crazy hours that come with being in the world of technology consulting for a global fortune 500 organization.

    And then I got sick.

    My body got tired of me pushing, and shoving, and not pausing even for a second to pay attention to its cries for help. Illness forced me to stop everything and pare my life down to the basics.

    I got diagnosed with some fancy labels like chronic fatigue syndrome, depression, fibromyalgia, and eventually an even fancier label, PTSD.

    Even getting dressed and making my kids meals felt like climbing Mount Everest.

    I let shame take over for a little while, and I hid from the world, the career I had worked so hard to build, my family, and even my kids; hiding in bed while they were at school and haphazardly pulling myself together before they came home.

    After a few months, my own innate personality started to come through and my impatience reared its head out of the fatigue, depression, and piles of laundry.

    I wanted my life back. I was not going to write off my future in my early thirties, and be resigned to my couch and bed, while my children were waiting for their tired mother to wake up and play.

    I got myself into therapy. I wanted no part of taking drugs. It was a personal choice that to this day, I don’t regret. It’s not for everyone. It felt right for me.

    I worked with therapists, healers, and naturopathic/homeopathic doctors; I tried Chinese medicine, acupuncture, all kinds of massage and bodywork and energy treatments, and spent thousands of dollars on nutritional supplements and testing.

    I worked with shamans and took trips to silent retreats, meditated, wrote, drew and doodled in my journal, danced to 5Rhythms, moved with hula hoops and even travelled to the Amazon looking for answers.

    The thing is, during much this time, I felt a huge amount of shame for my impatience. My healer/teacher/therapist and every other practitioner would smile with understanding for my impatience to get healthy and feel better.

    They would urge me to be patient and encourage me to honor the timing of my own body.

    They were right. I knew this, too. But the rational part of me wasn’t always the one in charge.

    I often felt like time was running out. I had a life to get back to, and it was passing me by every day that I lacked the energy and the mental clarity to fully live it. The body aches and pains and other physical discomforts didn’t make it any easier either.

    Eventually, the wiser part of me got it.

    Our body does have its own wisdom. It does speak, and we need to pause to listen in order to learn the language that each of our own bodies uses to speak to us. And this is not something that would have typically been taught to us while we were in school.

    While it’s wise to work on our impatience, we can simultaneously appreciate its gifts.

    The biggest gift I received by working with my impatience was perseverance. I didn’t give up. I continued to search for answers to my health conditions. I was obsessed with wanting to know the answers to my many questions. Why did I get sick? What was the root cause? Why did my body start to shut down on me?

    Impatience gave me the drive to keep going, even when it felt like I wasn’t making much progress.

    And impatience gave me hope. Each time I felt like I was taking one step forward, to be brought back ten, I would explore new healing options and get excited about the possibility of it working.

    I used to beat myself up for being impatient with myself, for how long it was all taking, and for finding it difficult to sit and meditate. I wished so many times that I could be more Zen-like and graceful in the way I met my health challenges.

    Many times sitting across therapists and healers and other wise people I had hired to be on my healing team, I would feel like that squirmy little kid in class. You know, the one who sat constantly moving in their seat, waving their hands about the air, hardly able to contain themselves because they had so much to say.

    I was that kid in an adult’s body. I wanted my healing team to know everything I was doing. I wanted them to know everything that I knew, had tried, and discovered so that that there would be no wasting time. All they had to do was tell me what I needed to do next, and I would get on it.

    Seven years later, I’m now better. I don’t identify myself through those same labels I was once diagnosed with. I have learned to tune in and listen to my body, and navigate my inner world and some dark alleys that I never knew existed.

    Through this process, I have transformed my wounds into wisdom, discovered my life’s purpose, and continue to use the insights to course correct, and live my life making conscious choices as best I can.

    I am grateful for the role that impatience played in my journey from illness to wellness. I am enjoying my second chance at life with my children, and doing my best to be a present mother. I am teaching my children these same tools of awareness and self-regulation by the way that I meet life, them, and myself.

    Though I could have done without the restlessness, I truly believe that without the persistence that resulted from my impatience, I might still be lying on a couch in my living room, napping.

    So, here’s my invitation to you: If you are like me and have been beating yourself up over your impatience, take some time to review how your impatience has helped you in your life.

    How has your impatience been a friend or a blessing?

    How has it allowed you not to give up when you desperately wanted to?

    How did it help you to not take ambiguity or “no” for an answer, and propel you to find your own truth?

    You might be surprised and grateful at what you discover!

    Man running via Shutterstock

  • When Life Doesn’t Meet Our Hopes and Expectations

    When Life Doesn’t Meet Our Hopes and Expectations

    Disappointed

    “Anger always comes from frustrated expectations.” ~Elliott Larson

    I was recently watching my younger son play in a golf tournament. We had extensively prepared for this tournament over a period of several days. His technique was finely tuned. The game plan for attacking the course was in place.

    The first two holes went wonderfully.

    We arrived at the third hole, a medium length par three with water to the left.

    In the middle of his swing, a golf cart carrying bags of ice drove right in front of him at a distance of about fifteen feet. This broke his concentration and he stopped his swing. He attempted to gather himself and he proceeded to hit the shot.

    The ball went into the water.

    This was the beginning of a number of curious “breaks” that happened on almost every single hole until the final one.

    The result was a disaster. The tournament was ruined. The game plan was shattered.

    There were so many wounds inflicted that day. And I, perhaps more than him, suffered every one.

    I learned much from that day. One of them is the idea of a thin layer of space.

    What do I mean?

    The organs inside the human body sit next to one another, but they do not touch one another. They sit within body cavities but they do not touch the cavity. 

    Rather, they are separated from their surroundings by a membrane of space.

    Perhaps we can apply this ingenuity to the way in which we live our lives.

    As we experience the various emotions and events that we encounter in a given day, we feel jolts and grates and frictional rubs. We are affected by each one.

    Why?

    Because unlike the organs in our body, we live directly apposed to the events of our lives. As such, the slightest shudder feels like an earthquake. Every scratch feels like a flesh wound.

    What if we could learn to live our lives with a thin layer of space between us and the events that we experience?

    What if there was a thin layer of space between what we hope to receive and what we actually receive?

    A thin layer of space between our expectations of what should be and what actually comes to be.

    Perhaps this space would act as a shock absorber. Perhaps it would allow us to experience jolts as jolts. And scratches as just scratches.

    Perhaps this space would serve as a gutter in which the excesses of our demands and our hopes would collect and flow away, leaving us content with what is.

    Perhaps this is the only way that our lives can be enjoyed.

    Perhaps it provides us a dose of wisdom. Teaching us that life flows according to its own rhythms, rather than according to our whims.

    Perhaps it can teach us that our miseries come from seeing life through the prism of our own expectations. And that to see life in this way is to not see it at all.

    Perhaps a bump will seem more like a ride than a jolt. Perhaps thunder will seem more like a sound rather than an impending storm.

    It is our interpretation of events that gives rise to the parallel universe in which we live. As few of us truly live within the world. Rather, we live inside the mind.

    The mind sticks to everything that it experiences and we feel the reverberations of each and every one of these experiences.

    But with this thin layer of space, we can perhaps keep the tempest that surrounds us in perspective. And at arm’s length.

    This thin layer of space affords a thin window of time. Time that allows for a measured response. Time that allows for action borne of wisdom, rather than emotion.

    It is not the words, but the space between them that makes communication possible.

    Perhaps it is a thin layer of space between us and our lives that makes living possible.

    In understanding this thin layer of space, perhaps I can begin to appreciate that the events that happened on that day did not happen to my son. And that they did not happen to me.

    They just happened.

    Disappointed woman image via Shutterstock

  • You Can Change Your Life with Tiny Daily Improvements

    You Can Change Your Life with Tiny Daily Improvements

    Man Walking

    “Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely.” ~Karen Kaiser Clark

    Of all the people who have passed through my life over the years, the one person I remember the most was this old, ornery man who seemed to have the personality of a mule. Stubborn to the core, with a straightforward approach to everything, Phil was a difficult man to like, yet I learned to love him.

    Phil didn’t speak much, but when he did, it came from the heart. He grew up in the mid thirties, in a rough Detroit neighborhood, composed mainly of Irish immigrants. In Phil’s world, you worked hard, took care of your family, and kept to yourself.

    It was difficult for Phil to get close to others. If he talked to you, it was because he genuinely cared, but his mannerisms were harsh and often, people took his gestures the wrong way. The first time Phil spoke to me, my immediate reaction was to stay away from him.

    “You think you’re tough with that hat on backwards?” he asked, in a tone that dared me to challenge him. I never could figure out why the way I wore my hat bothered him so much, but at the time, I was convinced he was just picking on me.

    Had I not been twelve, had Phil not owned the corner store deli, and had it not been my job to pick up the meats my mother purchased each week, I may have been able to avoid him. But alas, it was not to be my fate and each week, I was forced to listen to Phil’s harsh lectures as he packaged up the meat my mother had ordered.

    I didn’t realize what a great man Phil was until years later when my life took a turn for the worst and I found myself sleeping in an abandoned house, eating at homeless agencies and showering at the YMCA.

    As I walked past the old deli, one cold winter day, in a flimsy jacket that didn’t even have a zipper, I heard the door open and a few seconds later, this gruff voice said, “Jamey, is that you?”

    I turned around and saw Phil’s now emaciated figure, standing in the deli door. He invited me in and asked how I was doing. I told him the truth. I was embarrassed and rarely told anyone about my misfortune, but somehow I suspected he already knew.

    Phil poured me a cup of coffee and sliced me some lunchmeat and cheese. He handed me a loaf of bread and then disappeared into a back room. A few minutes later, he returned with a thick fur-lined winter fleece and gloves. I remember the feeling of embarrassment as I accepted his generosity.

    I guess my embarrassment was obvious because he told me not to worry, that I could pay him back whenever I could. He then told me about a time in his own life when he was homeless and struggling to survive.

    I felt strangely comforted by his story. As he spoke, I remember thinking what a different man he was than the man I remembered as a child.

    I visited Phil many times over the next six or so months. He seemed genuinely pleased whenever I stopped by and we would converse for hours over coffee and whatever meal he had prepared.

    One day, I asked how he made it through the hard times in his own life. I remember him growing serious as he said, “I just tried to be a better person each day than the person I was the day before.”

    The last time I saw Phil was through the window of his store; he was sitting in a recliner and there were paramedics surrounding him. Phil had died in his sleep of natural causes at the age of sixty-nine. I cried.

    Much of what he said to me in the final days of his life has faded into some obscure place in the back of my mind. But the one thing he said that remains with me to this day is how he “tried to be a better person each day…” than the person he was the day before.

    I try to apply this principle in my own life, successfully at times and not so successfully at others. I am no longer homeless or poor. I have a beautiful wife and daughter, a decent paying job I thoroughly enjoy, and a wonderful church family. I’d like to believe that trying to be a better person each day than the person I was the day before had something to do with this.

    Either way, it is a valuable piece of advice and I repeat it to others as often as I can.

    Maybe you are going through some hard times in your own life—a broken relationship, a lost job, or some other misfortune. Perhaps you are feeling the hopelessness of your situation and wondering how you can improve it.

    Life is unpredictable and often harsh, but whatever life throws us, we can handle it, if we just try to be a little better each day than we were the day before.

    Some days, it will be easier than others, but if we just put forth the tiniest of effort, maybe give some change to someone less fortunate, or smile when you don’t feel like it, things will get better.

    You don’t have to be a miracle worker or a saint, just conscious of how you approach life on a daily basis. By taking things one day at a time, with tiny improvements, you can get through anything life throws at you.

    Man walking image via Shutterstock

  • The First Thing You Need to Do to Change Your Life

    The First Thing You Need to Do to Change Your Life

    Bold Man

    “Never forget: This very moment, we can change our lives. There never was a moment, and never will be, when we are without the power to alter our destiny.” ~Steven Pressfield

    Altering your life in the smallest or grandest way is so simple, but it requires you to do something you likely are already doing all of the time.

    If you’ve ever wanted to take up a discipline, begin a new business, stop an addiction, or start anything new, it’s the same for all.

    Any life change requires one simple action: you to decide.

    Over five years ago, I knew in my heart I wanted a different work life, that a greater way of living a life of my dreams could be real for me if I could just take the leap.

    I was afraid of not having the external security that came with that job of five years. But when I looked at my true dreams, and who I’d become not doing what I love, it wasn’t who I felt I was deep at heart.

    Then it happened, I followed the feeling. I simply chose that enough was enough; I quit my job.

    There is a rich and deep aliveness that comes from following your heart, in acting on what you love despite any limitations or fears of the unknown.

    It’s what brings you closer to knowing who you are in your heart, and who I believe we all came to be in this life, dreamers willing to live their dream, not just know dreams exist.

    When I finally decided, there was no more deliberation, or trying to think of all possible outcomes. I stopped thinking about it.

    There are two types of fear: debilitating, poisonous, inaction fear, and an excitement fear that comes with taking inspired action. As soon as I decided, just an excited fear remained. 

    In a moment of true decision where you act on what you love, you experience a feeling of freedom and aliveness that overcomes fear. 

    Poisonous fear exists mostly in indecision, between knowing what you love and the perception that you’re unable to act on it.Perhaps that’s why it’s called “False Evidence Appearing Real.”

    When you take action on what you love, whether you experience fear or not, you’ve decided with your whole being, what’s called a true decision; and it overcomes all else.

    Often I hear people express a desire to do, or be something, and then they list the reasons why it’s not possible in their circumstances. But isn’t it true that possibility doesn’t become available to you until you decide to do it?

    In my experience, what’s possible only becomes real once you decide on the inside and then act on what you feel outside.

    If you’ve ever rented an apartment, bought a home, or booked a flight, you may know the power of decision. I’ve often heard people admit, “I didn’t know whether I could afford it then,” or, “I couldn’t afford it, but I did it anyway.”

    How is it possible to not be able to afford something, but have or experience it anyway? You decided, and more than likely, somehow your life circumstances changed. Some people call those coincidences, miracles, or serendipity.

    What’s meant to be is meant to be because you decide.

    I don’t just mean deciding to put it on credit, although sometimes that is the way, I mean watching your circumstances change to reflect your decision. I’ve experienced watching my business increase or receiving an unexpected financial windfall right after making a decision. It happens differently every time.

    A couple years ago I felt to move to NYC. At that time, I had no external security, no extra money saved, no job, or apartment lined up. I had no real reason to think it was possible based on my circumstances.

    When the feeling came to my heart, I said yes. A true decision is like falling in love; you don’t decide from your head, it’s something that finds you. I had only my feeling, but I’d developed trust for my intuition by this point.

    Decisions with the most impact are those that come from your heart because they have the power to defy what you think is possible (through love), and it’s those decisions that you experience the most aliveness (more love).

    The greatest challenge is your thinking: you may have to embrace whatever limitations are in your mind, and let go of what security you perceive you may lose.

    Following your heart may make no sense, and it may be the opposite of your plans, but it makes sense to the deeper knowing within.

    In the beginning, it’s not easy to follow just a feeling, but the more you do it, the better at it you become, and the more you value yourself for doing it.

    At that moment in time, I didn’t feel compelled or inspired to look for places to live in NYC before I got there, yet I lived in three different places. By staying in my heart and following the moment-to-moment inspirations, I saw the power of my decision unfold with ease.

    First, an old family friend offered me his flat in Manhattan while he was away.

    Before I left, I met a woman at an event visiting from Brooklyn who emailed me two weeks later asking if I wanted a sublet.

    The last place came when I followed my intuition to meet with a friend who surprised me with a place to sublet, which I moved into days later, the day my other place was up.

    From experience, it’s easier to follow the feeling when the possibilities are visible: you have the time, the money, or all the tangible circumstances.

    But what about when you only have a feeling, when the possibilities are still invisible, do you still follow the feeling in your heart?

    Living a life of love is more effortless because you cultivate more presence naturally, but you don’t do it for the effortlessness; you do it because you come to know yourself in that love at a deeper level.

    Sure, the move came with ease, but it was the aliveness I felt in following the feeling that took my breath away.

    Anyone reading this must take note: this was my story of following the feeling in that moment. If I moved to NY now, I would follow my feeling now, which could mean looking long and hard for places. It’s a new moment!

    There is a fine line between a deep knowing, and hoping, wishing, and laziness. I wasn’t not acting out of denial, I was in my truth, but your truth is going to be different every time, so don’t try my story “at home.”

    A friend and inspirational writer who lives intuitively moved with two kids to California, leaving a secure law degree position back east, both she and her husband following their respective feelings.

    Recently, she told me how she bought her house. “The bank should have never approved our loan from a logical perspective, it doesn’t make sense given our finances, but I just knew we had to take a risk and go for it because the feeling was pulling me.”

    In her example, it doesn’t mean she won’t lose her house. Don’t forget life is a risk; so is going after what you love!!

    Following your feeling will not only give you the experiences you perceive to be positive, it takes you to perceived negative experiences so you can be free of the fear.

    I followed the feeling to start a business a couple years ago, and it failed. The feeling took me to a failed business, but now I don’t fear failing.

    Ultimately, your intuition is guiding you to your bigger picture of what you love: less fear, and more power to alter destiny (love). Sometimes it takes you into beautiful romances, but later the feeling pulls you out of that same relationship you thought was forever.  

    The bigger picture has opportunities and challenges; you don’t get one without the other.

    It can be really hard because going beyond limitations stretches you internally. You have to truly love it from your soul, not just your head. And you have to be willing to say yes!

    You want more love, more inspiration, and more empowerment, but don’t know how? Decide first. You want to live a life that’s of freedom? Decide to. Possibilities become possible when you decide.

    The truth is, you’re the only one with the true power to alter your destiny, to shape your life into one you love. It’s starts with what you decide through opening your heart to the feeling. You can complicate it in your head, but it’s that simple. What you love is in every moment; it’s up to you.

    I didn’t always believe in me, but because I decide over and over again to live a life of love despite the fear, I now do.

    No matter who you are out there in this world, I believe in you in this moment. After all, it is a new moment, your moment.

    Bold man image via Shutterstock

  • Try Not to Become Bitter: There Is More Good Than Bad

    Try Not to Become Bitter: There Is More Good Than Bad

    Man Silhouette

    “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” ~Martin Luther King Jr.

    A few years ago, when my younger son was about ten, the reality of the losses that go with living in this beautiful but flawed world suddenly hit him.

    I’ll never forget the conversation. This was a child born two months before 9/11, and since we live in a New York suburb and my husband worked across the street from the Twin Towers, what was a loss for so many has been my son’s reality his whole life. Both of my sons are in the generation of children who live in a forever-changed United States.

    My sons have also grown up with me as a mother, a person forever changed by two monumental personal losses when I was twenty and twenty-one.

    I am the youngest of five. Above me were two brothers, then my two sisters. Both of my brothers died in the same year when they were just twenty-three and twenty-seven years old. One brother died by his own hand after several years of battling mental illness. My other brother died in a plane crash in Pakistan with fifty-three other people just ten months later.

    What my son really wanted to know that day was “Why?” Why do we live in a world like this, where people we love die? What is the reasoning behind human life including such extraordinary pain? Why?

    The why of loss is the ultimate question, isn’t it? I can tell you that after twenty-five years of living with the loss of my brothers, the two people I was closest to in the world, I have no answers. Yet, that is the answer.

    We don’t know why these things happen. We can’t possibly fathom why terrible things have happened in human history, over and over, both in big ways and in small.

    How could our limited human brains possibly come up with a justification for the most horrific losses, the greatest pains? They can’t. It is beyond mere human understanding. It is a waste of precious time while we who are still here try to go on with our lives.

    So what do we do? How do we go on when we are faced with excruciating loss?

    I was a senior in college when my first brother died, and a professor (who was also a minister) gave me a crucial bit of advice that I took to heart. He simply said, “Try not to become bitter.”

    It is so easy to go the route of anger, resentment, self-pity, and the should-have mentality. It is worth fighting against, because it will eat you alive. Nothing is gained. The loss happened.

    I was so sad for years, and I still cry sometimes about them, but there is no undoing my brothers’ deaths. Trust me, I often thought time-travel would be the perfect answer to bring my brothers back because it would allow me to do something different to save them. It’s ridiculous and yet the brain will go there.

    The biggest load off my shoulders, and it took years, was complete acceptance that they were gone.

    Then, my college professor’s sage advice kicked in. Don’t become bitter. It happened, so now what? I’m still here. My brothers loved me so much; the last thing they would want is for me to not live my life to the fullest. I can hear them now: Live. Love. Be here now. Marvel at life. See the good in everything. It is there.

    So that is what I said to my son. They weren’t just words; it is how I live my life now. Life is good. There is beauty all around us. There is devastation and pain and people who hurt others, but who knows why?

    We can help others deal with pain, we can comfort others; we should do this: we are all in this crazy, beautiful world together.

    Just always remember: ‘bad’ things will happen, but there is more good than bad. There is more happiness than sorrow. There’s more life than death. It is all around us, as long as we are open to it.

    The why of loss does not have an answer. The why of life has an infinity of answers. I am not bitter. I am a believer that life is a mystery, but it’s amazing. I am here, so I will enjoy every precious moment. It’s what my brothers would want. I accept life, and I am in awe of it.

    Man silhouette via Shutterstock

  • How to Find Yourself By Losing Yourself

    How to Find Yourself By Losing Yourself

    “Our lives improve only when we take chances and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves.” ~Walter Anderson

    Growing up in a small town in Western Canada, I was known as the kid who accomplished things.

    I was the well-mannered and conscientious child who skipped grade two, was at the top of her class, played three musical instruments, took ballet lessons, French lessons, swimming lessons, and any other lesson in which I expressed an interest.

    While this might sound like the calendar of an over-scheduled kid, it actually never felt that way. I had a real love of learning, and appreciated the opportunity to be exposed to so many things.

    While I was grateful for all the privileges afforded to me by my parents, the unintended side effect of being the kid who accomplished a lot was that it set a very high bar in terms of others’ expectations of me.  

    I knew my classmates and teachers expected that I would go on to great things, and so, I continued to achieve. I was educated at some pretty prestigious schools and got a Masters’ degree, and then a PhD. I embarked on a career as a corporate psychologist in which I consulted to high-powered senior leaders, lived a jet-setting lifestyle, and made a healthy income.

    And, if I’m being perfectly honest, it wasn’t just others’ expectations that drove me—I savored the response I got from people when they wrongly sized me up based on my appearance, and then found out about what I did. I enjoyed getting upgraded on airplanes and having access to V.I.P. areas of hotels.

    Being an achiever was an integral part of my identity. Yet, after a while, it started to become confining.

    As you can see from my childhood experiences, I am the sort of person who has varied interests, and a lot of them are creative. So, as you might expect, there eventually came a point in my career in which the artistic-dreamer aspects of my personality felt like they were being trampled by the pragmatic, results-driven, goal-oriented parts of me. I knew I needed to make a change.

    I talked with friends about my dilemma and got advice akin to some of the backlash many others who have been lucky enough to have some degree of privilege receive. People unsympathetically dismissed the stirrings of my soul as being in the realm of self-indulgent “first world problems.”

    “Do you know how many people would want your job with the money you’re making? You can’t mess that up!” a well-meaning friend said.

    “Are you kidding me?” chimed in another, “You sound like one of those spoiled self-absorbed celebrity types who has lost touch with how things really are and don’t realize how good they have it.”

    So, what did I do? Nothing. I put my nose to the grindstone, continued business-as-usual, and tried to revel in the identity that looked like gleaming gold to others, but was beginning to look painfully tarnished from the inside.

    Then, in 2013, my husband and I had a son. Each night, as I rocked him to sleep, I did what so many parents do: I shared my hopes with him regarding how he would live his life.

    I whispered to him that he could do anything he desired. I encouraged him to go after his dreams and live out his passions. I told him he was uniquely talented, and that he needed to use his gifts to the best of his ability. In other words, I told him to do everything I wasn’t doing.

    As someone with a newborn, I was a rush of emotions, novel experiences, and sleep-deprivation. I had quite a bit of time in the wee hours of the morning to introspect and contemplate the meaning of life. And when I reflected on it, I knew that the reason why I wasn’t practicing what I preached was because I was scared.

    What if I tried something that I was truly invested in and failed? How would others respond? Perhaps I would have to listen to sincere concern from loved ones questioning why I was making reckless choices.

    Maybe I would get expressions of disappointment from certain friends as I fell from the pedestal on which they had placed me (against my will). And, it certainly wasn’t inconceivable that I might be on the receiving end of some gleeful schadenfreude from others behind my back.

    Plus, there was that pesky issue of my identity. I liked being known in my circles as the one who could be counted on to achieve. Who would I be without that identity?

    After numerous quiet meditations during 3:00AM feedings, I realized that who I would be was someone who was a whole lot happier.

    I would be able pursue my heart’s desires unencumbered by apprehension about how others might respond. I would no longer have to stifle the voice deep inside trying to get me to embrace all sides of me. I would be free.

    So, to honor my creative side, I finished a book I had started writing a few years prior. I dealt with the feelings of uncertainty and nakedness that I felt in response to putting something about which I was truly passionate outside of my reach for others to judge.

    I have approached my work differently, drawing on my penchant for asking life’s deep questions and a desire to help others have professional lives that provide them with a sense of purpose.

    I have allowed myself to delight in the journey, without worrying too much about how others might perceive whether or not I am living my life in the way they think I should.

    And, the invisible weight that I have been carrying around has disappeared. I can just be myself—whoever that happens to be at the time.

    If you, like me, have let your view of yourself hold you hostage, here are some suggestions for breaking free:

    1. Think about your various identities.

    Which ones work for you? Which ones constrain you? While some identities might be obvious in terms of how they hold you back (i.e.: “I am not smart.”), be aware of others that might seem positive, but actually can work against you (i.e.: “I must do everything well.”)

    2. Recognize that other people, though well-meaning, can box you in.

    While listening to others’ feedback can be a helpful way to develop, be aware that they bring their preconceived notions to the table. Trust your gut, and be comfortable with the fact that others may not always agree with your choices.

    3. Be aware that identities change.

    Just because you have been known as “The person who…” for as long as you can remember, doesn’t mean you have to own that persona for the rest of your life. Who do you want to be? What feels right for you right now?

    4. Give yourself permission to grow.

    Instead of needing to be exceptional right away, arming yourself with the knowledge that you can always develop in an area through effort can help to deal with some of the fears that might come up when trying something new. Be compassionate with yourself.

    5. Keep in mind the words of the late, great Maya Angelou, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

    Do you want to look back on your life with regrets? If not, be true to yourself, and you will be rewarded with greater life fulfillment and meaning.

  • Managing Anxiety: 5 Steps to Open Your Mind and Calm Your Heart

    Managing Anxiety: 5 Steps to Open Your Mind and Calm Your Heart

    Calm Woman

    “Don’t wait for your feelings to change to take action. Take action and your feelings will change.” ~Barbara Baron

    I’ve struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember. From the time I was very young, I would worry about things—my life, my parents, my house, the state of the world.

    I would experience a tightness in my chest and an overall sense of fear that only got worse the more I worried. The more I worried, the more afraid I became of the unseen factors that plagued me.

    Anxiety is distress, caused by fear of danger or misfortune, and over the years this worry has driven me. It’s helped me to be high-achieving and extremely productive, all the while depleting my nervous system and creating exhaustion throughout my entire being.

    As an adult, I have recognized how this unnecessary fear has limited my ability to enjoy and be fully present within my life.

    I’ve learned that taking action, or guiding my thoughts down a more positive path, can transform my feelings to a much more grounded and peaceful place. I’ve created my own road map to navigate stress, anxiety, and worry in five steps.

    1. Slow your roll.

    When anxiety hits, everything around us seems to speed up. Physically, we feel our heart rate quicken or breath become shorter; and mentally, we might start to head down a rabbit hole of worst-case scenarios.

    When this happens, slow down. Shift activities, call a friend, watch a funny YouTube video, go for a run—anything that interrupts the cascade of worry and overwhelm that can create a mountain out of any molehill.

    2. Ask yourself: “What is true or what is actually happening right now?”

    Sometimes, just labeling exactly where you are in time and space (i.e. “I am driving to work.” “I am sitting at my desk.”), helps to refocus the brain and disrupt the physiological response that happens when stressors arise.

    Focusing on what is actually happening instead of “what if” helps us to minimize our initial reaction of panic and fear to awareness.

    3. What do I fear losing if this is true?

    Because anxiety is driven by fear, it is both empowering and helpful to label where the fear actually stems from. Many times, this can be from a fear of losing something—security, money, friendship, or love.

    By noting mentally what we are afraid might happen in a given situation, we can easier recognize the worry for what it is, most often, a fear of loss. The next time you feel anxiety coming on, it may be helpful to ask yourself which of these areas you fear losing?

    4. Where might I be limiting myself within this belief?

    As human beings, we have a tendency to focus on what is not going well, limiting our beliefs to those that focus on scarcity or lack. When anxiety is high, it can be much easier to focus on all that is wrong or bad instead of what is working or going well.

    By simply pausing and recognizing where you might be holding on too tightly or limiting your possibilities, you may notice that the picture is, in fact, much bigger than you had originally thought.

    5. Could there be a hidden gift or silver lining amidst this situation?

    We often learn from problems, mistakes, or painful events. Reminding yourself in a moment of panic that you’ve always landed on your feet can help you to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

    Envisioning yourself on the other side of this stress, lesson in hand, can be enormously helpful in actually getting you there. Sometimes simply reframing the situation to seek the lesson or hidden positive at the onset of a stressful situation can be useful in diffusing some of the anxiety.

    —

    I have learned, through years of exploring and recognizing my own anxiety triggers, how to create a sense of peace and calm even when things seem dire.

    As human beings, we are capable of creating our experience and have the power to choose whether we lead with fear and anxiety or an open heart and mind. Which do you choose? What experience will you create?

    Woman in a field image via Shutterstock

  • When Positive Thinking Doesn’t Help

    When Positive Thinking Doesn’t Help

    Sad girl

    “The best way out is always through.” ~Robert Frost

    Earlier this year my partner, our son, and I all moved to Santa Barbara from Oregon. People move all the time, but for us it was a huge step.

    My partner had a new exciting dream job, and we were eager to experience the sunshine of California. But our son was only six months old at the time, and we were leaving both our families and all of our friends. On top of that, I was leaving my successful private practice in Chinese Medicine to become a stay-at-home-mom.

    I knew it was going to be hard, but I was determined to turn the move into a positive new opportunity for myself. It was a chance to renew my commitment to blogging, perhaps work on that book I’ve been talking about writing, maybe start a coaching practice?

    We arrived in January, excited to find sunny skies and mild weather, while our friends and family were complaining about the rain. We both started a cleanse, determined to start the New Year off to a healthy start. We walked more, took our son out for strolls.

    My partner went off to work, and I was determined to dive into re-inventing my business. All I needed was determination, the right attitude, and everything would just come flowing my way, right?

    Friends would call and ask me how I was: “GREAT!” I would answer, determined to keep a smile on my face.But it wasn’t great. Nothing was working. In the few spare minutes I had between chasing a six-month-old, I would try and write. But I was stuck and I couldn’t figure out why.

    I even hired a life coach, thinking all I needed was someone to point me in the right direction. The first thing she said was “You are back at square one, it’s not time to be making plans.” I burst into tears.

    She explained how I had to take the time to grieve my old life. I had to grieve the loss of my career, my identity, friends, family, even the loss of my favorite grocery store if that is what it took.

    No wonder nothing was working! I was so determined to think positively about my new transition I didn’t even take time to feel sad.

    It was like I hadn’t even landed in my new home; I was just walking around about a foot off the ground in a bubble of “everything is fine,” when really, I wasn’t fine; I was sad.

    I took her advice and it made all the difference. Here is what I learned about when positive thinking can actually slow you down:

    Feel your feelings; just don’t attach meaning to them.

    I was so afraid to feel sad because I thought I would be blocking myself from positive experiences. The trick was letting myself feel the sadness without attaching a story to it. Like, “I will never find friends” or “I will never get my practice started.” It was the negative stories that weren’t helpful, not my feelings.

    Feelings are just like the weather; they can’t be controlled and they are always changing. I found that if I just let myself be in the sadness, it passed so much quicker.

    Take the time you need for yourself.

    Shortly after this realization I took some time just for myself. I quit blogging, quit planning, quit putting so much pressure on myself, and just let myself be sad. I cried. I napped when my son napped.

    Planning and being busy were just another way for me to avoid how I was feeling. I needed time to turn inward, not expand outward.

    Even in grief there is room for gratitude.

    This was a hard one because I wanted to blame my unhappiness on our new home. But as hard as I tried, the beauty and charm of our new home won me over.

    As I took time for myself, I made sure to be grateful that we had landed in such a beautiful spot. Having something to be grateful for really helped me keep my head above water.

    The time for dreaming will come again.

    At one point I thought it was never going to shift, but then it did. Little by little, I began being excited by life here. I stopped feeling like I was missing something so much. With that shift came new friendships, new business opportunities, even a renewed sense of fun and adventure in my relationship.

    This was the magic I was looking for; it had to come from a place of true, grounded joy, not hollow optimism that I thought I had to fake.

    There is nothing wrong with trying to keep a positive attitude, but it can’t come at the expense of your true feelings.

    Only by allowing yourself to be present with more difficult emotions can you begin to move through them and create space for a new experience. Real happiness comes only when the positive thoughts in your head are aligned with the true joy in your heart.

    Man under raincloud image via Shutterstock

  • You’re Not Bad; You’re Crying Out for Help

    You’re Not Bad; You’re Crying Out for Help

    Help

    “A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.” ~Steve Maraboli

    My fourth grade teacher was named Mrs. King, and she was a no-nonsense, fairly stern presence who enforced the rules and kept us kids in line. I was a timid kid who wouldn’t have dared to break rules anyway, and I assumed that Mrs. King didn’t like any of us, especially not me.

    The only time we left Mrs. King’s classroom was to have our hour a week of “Music,” which meant trouping off to a downstairs room that contained a piano and a slightly manic woman who played us old folk songs to sing along with, like “Waltzing Matilda” and “Sixteen Tons.”

    One day in music class I transformed into a bad kid. Instead of quietly following the rules, I made cat noises during the songs. I poked other girls in the ribs. I loudly whispered forbidden things, like “Linda is a peepee head.”

    I don’t remember even wondering why this transformation had happened to me. It just happened.

    As we trouped back upstairs I felt defiant, but when I heard several of my classmates telling Mrs. King about my behavior, I began to deflate. “Ann was bad in music class,” one of them said. “She was meowing in the songs,” added another.

    “Ann,” said Mrs. King, “please come with me.”

    I was struck dumb with terror. Now I was going to discover what happened to bad kids. I didn’t know what it would be, but I was sure I wasn’t going to like it. Shaking, I followed Mrs. King out into the hall, and into the tiny teacher’s lounge. We sat down.

    “Ann,” she said. I didn’t dare look at her. My heart was pounding. What was she going to say about my misbehavior? What was my punishment going to be?

    The silence stretched on, and I realized she was waiting for me to look at her. I dared to peek at Mrs. King’s face, and I was astonished. I had never seen such compassion.

    She said, “I know your dog died…”

    It was true. A few weeks before, out on a walk with my beloved dog Trixie, I had let her off the leash, and she had been hit by a car when running across a street to rejoin me. My parents had quickly bought me another pet.

    There were no models in my family for allowing feelings to emerge. I remember being mystified when I saw my brother briefly weep for Trixie—and he hadn’t even been there when she was killed. I hadn’t been aware of feeling anything at all.

    In the teacher’s lounge with Mrs. King, under her kind gaze, my eyes filled up with tears. I nodded. Yes, my dog had died.

    “Maybe you would like to write a story about your dog. I know you like to write. Maybe you could give it a different ending if you want.”

    I did write that story, but even before I began, the shift had already happened. I had my self back. It was okay to feel sadness and shock.

    There was room in the world for my feelings, because someone with compassion had seen them.

    Having feelings in response to events is normal. When we can share those feelings with caring family and friends, it allows the feelings to go through a natural cycle of change.

    Understandings surface: “Oh, now I see what bothered me so much.” Our circle of support strengthens. After a while we feel refreshed, stronger, ready to go on.

    Many people, though, grow up, as I did, in a family and a culture where feelings are not welcome. Feelings are embarrassing, or they show we are weak, or they are something we “just don’t do” and nobody talks about.

    In some kinds of families, feelings are actually dangerous. “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.”

    When we repress and deny our feelings, we cut off a natural process of healing and self-understanding. When that avenue is closed, what is left to us is “acting out”—being “bad,” being depressed, addictive behavior of all kinds.

    Many of us deaden our feelings with unhealthy food, drugs and alcohol, video games, overwork. At some level we feel deeply out of balance, but we suppress that too.

    This can lead to a feeling of being inwardly at war, trying to stop whatever it is, feeling ashamed, yet finding ourselves still doing what we don’t want to do.

    What can change this is a process of bringing compassionate understanding to our warring parts, a process I call Inner Relationship Focusing.

    First, slow down. Pause and make contact with your body.

    Use this kind of language to describe the inner war: “Something in me wants to eat potato chips, and something in me says that that is disgusting.”

    Then say hello to each of the parts you have identified. “Hello, I know you are there.” (Notice how that already shifts how all this feels.)

    Next, assume, as Mrs. King did with me, that there is some life-serving reason why each part is behaving as it is.

    Lastly, ask each one: “What might you be wanting to help me with?” Wait for the answer to come from inside. When an answer comes, let it know you hear it. Don’t try to make it change. Change comes when something you feel is deeply heard with compassion.

    I am so grateful for all the ways that compassion shows up in my life. I have learned that every part of me is trying to save my life. And in bringing compassionate inner listening to my warring parts, I have healed from writer’s block, addictions, and social anxiety, to name just a few.

    And I never cease being grateful to Mrs. King, who showed me that day long ago that someone can look past outer “bad” behavior to the worthwhile person inside. A deep bow to you, Mrs. King.

    Helping hand image via Shutterstock

  • Overcoming the Fear of Vulnerability and Unlocking Your Power

    Overcoming the Fear of Vulnerability and Unlocking Your Power

    Open Heart

    “To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength.” ~Criss Jami

    Wanting to avoid pain and shield ourselves from it is natural—and, by the way, completely not possible, because as we close up to protect ourselves against pain, we also block out the light that reflects from it.

    Despite our best efforts, the boundaries that we’ve built around our hearts to protect us from feeling pain, discomfort, and hurt are the very chains that keep us tethered to it, disallowing us from feeling the opposites—joy, love and passion.

    Only in embracing our true nature, at our deepest core level, as emotional, vulnerable, and feeling beings are we able to tap our resilient inner strength.

    Have you ever tried to cross your arms in front of your heart while smiling or laughing at the same time? Try it. It feels weird. You may be aware that you’re smiling or laughing, but you sure don’t feel like it.

    Or, try throwing your arms up wide with a big open heart like you just crossed the finish line of an amazing race, and see if you can wear a frown or angry face. It simply feels unnatural. This is because we are feeling beings and our heart center is our core feeling center.

    When we block our heart, we block the feelings as well, and when we open our heart it feels unnatural to be anything but joyous.

    Our feelings are indicators of our current alignment with our soul’s path and higher energy source.

    I used to stuff feelings down deep, especially negative ones, not understanding that by doing so I was suppressing my unique intuitive guidance system.

    Feelings are there to teach us something about ourselves and reveal to us our true desires. It is only in a state of vulnerability, when we drop the armor around our hearts, that we can truly access these feelings and lessons to become centered, strong, and wise.

    My early childhood and adolescent years were largely dysfunctional. I grew up broke for the most part in an unstable household, where my father, who was an alcoholic, was also verbally or physically abusive.

    This environment imprinted on my young developing mind a perception that the world was difficult. I viewed the world through a lens smudged of struggle, and this perception became my reality as I felt I had to muscle my way through life in in an effort to not end up like my past.

    As a result, I spent the better part of three decades unconsciously building walls to protect myself from these fears and insecurities I knew as a child.

    Vulnerability meant emotional pain, so I developed thick skin growing up. From the vantage point of others, I had a good front of just being strong-willed and determined; and my fear of being judged by my dysfunctional upbringing was somewhat minimalized.

    As I made my way through life, I’ve always seemed happy enough, pretty enough, and smart enough, yet I grew acutely aware there was a happiness ceiling I was hitting my head on, fully conscious of the fact that it simply was not high enough.

    While I experienced happiness regularly, when it came to feeling joyful, there seemed to be a disconnect. I was too guarded and allowed myself to become hardened, stiff, and in a state of resistance.

    I thought that in order to be strong and powerful I had to be tough and put up a good fight, putting up protective layers of resistance. Ironically, in an effort to be strong, I was giving up my power.

    My happiness was largely contingent on other things happening or not happening as if it was out of my control. I now can attribute this disconnect as a result of resisting my true authentic nature and not staying open and vulnerable to the calling of my inner Higher Self, due to the layers of walls and blockages I have built.

    There came a point in my life after my father’s traumatic death to cancer when I decided I no longer would accept going through my days hardened, disconnected, or defensive. I had not fully forgiven him at the time of his passing, but I made a conscious choice then, and now it’s a daily evolution, where I choose to surrender to my vulnerability instead of hiding from it.

    Through yoga, meditation, and a lot of conscious intention setting, I began to shed these walls one layer at a time, revealing each time the softer side that I’ve always known to be a core part of my being—the side that is moldable, connected and resides with a deep inner knowing; the part that changes, grows and allows.

    These days I choose to take my power back and wear my heart on my sleeve, where it belongs. This doesn’t mean I’m overly emotional, but I do allow myself to be vulnerable, to drop my resistance and feel my way through my experiences, reflecting as needed in pursuit for higher meaning behind anything that would otherwise cause me pain.

    I’m acutely aware that everything is fleeting or temporary, and because of this I try my best not to take things for granted. With this awareness I feel I have no choice but to completely absorb the moment by allowing myself to be vulnerable and truly deeply feel.

    The challenge lies in discerning what beliefs no longer serve you and understanding that, while you have emotions and deep feelings, you are not these emotions or feelings, and rather they are there to help guide your life’s experiences.

    If we move through life mistaking vulnerability for weakness, or build walls to hide from our vulnerability, we stifle the fruition of the very experiences we long for, and true love, joy, passion, and freedom will fall painfully at our feet, appearing out of reach.

    To be vulnerable is to be in a state of trust and courage. From this state, all things are possible and our drive, willpower, and strength align with who we really are, not what we fear.

    Any strength that lies outside of vulnerability is a façade built by fear. It must be shed to allow our completely raw and unrefined truth to shine through, so we can deeply experience all of life’s’ beautiful sharp edges.

    Joyful woman image via Shutterstock

  • Mind Over Melodrama: 5 Lessons on Self-Awareness and Healing

    Mind Over Melodrama: 5 Lessons on Self-Awareness and Healing

    Healing

    “Be what you are. This is the first step toward becoming better than you are.” ~Julius Charles Hare

    In a few months it will be the two and a half year anniversary of my mental breakdown.

    I don’t really celebrate the date, partially because I don’t know it—it’s not the sort of thing that you remember to mark on your calendar—and partially because my entire life since then has been a celebration of what I began to learn that night.

    I began to learn about myself.

    It’s been a wild ride of healing, helplessness, forgetting, and remembering. Many times, I felt like giving up and running back to drugs and alcohol, but I didn’t.

    Many times, I felt like bottling my emotions or lashing them out onto the closest victim, but I didn’t. Many times, I felt disgusted by my reflection and compelled to stop eating again, just for a day or two, so I could feel the sick freedom of an empty stomach, but I didn’t.

    I guess after you almost kill yourself, you just can’t go back to being the way you were. There’s something in your mind that says, “No, that didn’t work for ten years, and it won’t work now.”

    Honestly, self-awareness saved my life, and I have no doubt that this simple, consistent practice is as essential as exercising and eating well. I like to dream sometimes about what the world would look like if we all committed to knowing ourselves, and it’s beautiful. It really is. We’re beautiful.

    Without further ado, here are five life lessons I’ve learned from two years of healing my mind and reconnecting with myself.

    1. Self-awareness is self-love.

    About two weeks after I broke down, I was flipping through stacks of old journals, feverishly looking for patterns. What I found amazed me: epiphany after epiphany that I needed to love myself, to be my own best friend, to treat myself better.

    Those epiphanies never translated into action until I was forced to look at my reflection, raw and real. When I saw her, I loved her immediately.

    You cannot love someone you don’t know. In the end, that’s why so many people in our society don’t love themselves, or each other. Not because they don’t try, but because they don’t know themselves.

    Once you find who you are—who you really are—self-love is not an option. And neither is unconditional human love, for that matter, because once you find that spark of magic inside of you that makes your heart beat, you find that magic in all of us.

    2. Believing all your thoughts is a dangerous thing.

    I used to believe everything I thought. For a while, my thoughts told me that I was fat and ugly. Believing them destroyed my confidence. Then, my thoughts told me I needed drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes. Believing them destroyed my body.

    One day, my thoughts told me to kill myself. Believing them was almost the last thing I ever did.

    As human beings, we have this amazing capacity to conceptualize, analyze, and create stories in our heads. That capacity can be used to build spaceships and save the world. That same capacity can be used to harm ourselves and others.

    It’s not that I don’t think toxic thoughts anymore. Sometimes, I still get anxious, fearful, and insecure thoughts just like anyone else. The difference is that I constantly observe and question what I think.

    I make choices about what I believe is true. And that makes all the difference.

    3. There is no quick fix (and you don’t want one anyway).

    When I was in elementary school, I tried praying for a few months. I wasn’t sure if God existed, but I was willing to give it a try.

    I said, “Dear God, please make me wake up tomorrow having lost forty pounds, with no pimples, and my stretch marks disappeared. If you do, I’ll start going to church. Okay, thanks. I mean… Amen.”

    Needless to say, it never happened. About fifteen years later, I’m telling this story to someone and they point out how, if that did happen, my life would have been much worse. Showing up to school suddenly forty pounds lighter is a sure-fire one-day ticket to being a “Freak” (much faster than just being forty pounds overweight).

    I was amazed. How could I not have seen this?

    Now I know; back then, I only wanted a quick fix because I wasn’t doing anything about my problems. We only crave miraculous, effortless change when we’re not helping real change happen.

    I used to tell myself stories about how I didn’t want to change because it would hurt too much. Honestly, healing has hurt more than I can possibly relate, but you know what? It’s not the same pain.

    The pain of enduring obstacles on a path that you’ve decided to walk is absolutely nothing like the pain of being trapped in a situation you have no plan to escape. Nothing hurts like helplessness and stagnation. That’s what we actually don’t want.

    4. People who adored your mask probably won’t like your authentic self.

    This just baffled me when it first happened. When I was self-destructive, rude, jaded, and fake, people couldn’t get enough. When I showed my vulnerable, inspiration-hungry, sparkly-eyed self, most of those same people recoiled in horror.

    My first months of healing, I spent alone in an empty room watching TED talk after TED talk eating chocolate chips right out of the bag. I was alone, but somehow, I wasn’t lonely anymore.

    Nothing is lonelier than being with people who don’t understand you. Those who love a person in a mask are wearing their own masks. They’re putting on a play for everyone to see—terrified of who they are underneath.

    A person who chooses to be authentic around the masked will always be rejected, because the masked reject that part of themselves.

    Don’t worry. There are authentic, open, loving people waiting to meet someone just like you in your raw, vulnerable state. They’re just waiting for you to get off that stage.

    5. You are the world’s foremost expert on yourself.

    For a long time, I was looking for someone to tell me exactly what to do. I’d read a book and it would have an inspiring idea, but then the implications of that idea would make me feel uncomfortable. Still, I’d try it on. After months of struggling, I realized it just wouldn’t fit.

    This happened again and again.

    I thought there was something wrong with me because other people’s frameworks didn’t fit me like a glove. It wasn’t until I started helping other people that I realized, they’re not supposed to.

    Other people’s words can inspire us, inform us, and, at best, give us valuable frameworks within which to place our experiences. But how we fill in those gaps and connect those dots—that’s still up to us.

    Self-discovery is supposed to be messy and confusing. You’re supposed to feel like no one has the answers for you, because they don’t. You have the answers. At most, you need a guide to help you find those answers, and even then, you always have the final say.

    —

    These five lessons all came to me as epiphanies at first, but I never stop learning them. These truths continue to come to me in different words and different forms, as I apply them to myself and others, as I forget them just to remember them again and again.

    It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, but I always know there’s a way out of any darkness and I know that, even if I forget, everything is going to be okay. And that makes it all worth it.

    Woman in Tree Position image via Shutterstock