Tiny Buddha

Category: letting go

  • A Powerful Technique That Can Help Heal the Pain of Regret

    A Powerful Technique That Can Help Heal the Pain of Regret

    “We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it.” ~Rick Warren

    Regret—whether for things that you have done or things that you had no control over—can keep you frozen in the past, unable to move forward. Sadly, there are no magic wands that can turn back the hands of time and change what has happened, but despite this I believe we’re not entirely powerless to affect the past, after all.

    I first began thinking of this subject when my daughter was young and having serious ongoing problems with fear. She wasn’t able to go to school or to be separated from me for any length of time at all.

    I really could sympathize with her. As an adoptee from Korea, I knew that she had been relinquished by her mother at birth, placed in an orphanage, then with a foster mother, and ultimately taken from that woman to make the long journey to America and her “forever” family—but not without a whole lot of emotional baggage onboard.

    I wished with all my heart that I could have been with her through those first months so that she would have known that she was safe and loved. I was sure that was the root of her troubles now, but no amount of safety in the present seemed to make up for the lack of it in her past. It seemed there was nothing I could do about her rocky start in life. Or was there?

    Being a meditator, and someone who is comfortable with visualizations, one day I had the brilliant idea to try simply “re-writing” her past.

    I visualized myself in the birthing room with Lia, taking her tiny body into my arms and telling her how much I loved her, that she was safe, and that I was waiting for her. I also whispered in her birth mother’s ear that I would take good care of her daughter, and that everything was going to be all right.

    The visualization felt wonderful, and I repeated it many times, going on to visualize myself at my daughter’s side through all of the other changes she went through in those scary first months of her life.

    Whether or not I was actually impacting my daughter, I certainly found these visualizations helpful to me! I felt I was somehow able to make up for what she had missed out on and, over time, I really think it did help Lia to overcome her fear (although I’d never be able to prove it).

    Perhaps it was only because my energy had changed, which affected her in turn. At any rate, she gradually seemed to relax and gain the confidence that had eluded us through so many years and so many other attempts to help her feel safe.

    Since then, I’ve used my “time travel” meditation in many other circumstances. For instance, I think every parent has had lapses of control that we deeply regret in hindsight. I vividly remember once losing my temper with Lia as a toddler, for breaking an item that was precious to me. As she grew older and seemed so intent on always being perfect, I wondered sadly how much I had contributed to her fear of “messing up.”

    So again, I went back to that remembered situation in a visualization. Obviously, I couldn’t change the fact that I had yelled at her, but I visualized surrounding her in love and whispering that everything was okay—she hadn’t done anything wrong.

    In my imagination, we watched my earlier self yelling, and I told her, “She’s just tired, poor thing. She’s not really mad at you, she’s mad at herself. Let’s just send her some love.” And we did.

    As before, I have no idea whether my visualization actually had an impact on Lia’s perfectionism (I hope it did), but it certainly helped me feel more compassion and less shame regarding my past actions.

    On yet another occasion, I mentally placed a retroactive bubble of love and protection around Lia when she was facing a scary situation that I hadn’t known about at the time. There are literally endless scenarios for tweaking things in the past, so don’t go too crazy with this! Save it for the situations that really weigh on your heart.

    These techniques work equally well even if you aren’t a parent. You can mentally send the adult version of yourself back into your childhood to provide love and support to your earlier self.

    Children are especially vulnerable, since they have so little understanding of the true context of what is happening. We all remember times when we felt alone and frightened—how wonderful to take that scared child in your arms and let her know it will all be okay, that she isn’t truly alone.

    Although it’s tempting to imagine different outcomes for those painful times, I try to always stay true to what actually happened and simply provide whatever energetic support seems best. For better or worse, we are the product of these experiences; they are a part of who we are. But it may be possible to heal some of the wounds they left behind, even many years down the road.

    Does it really work? We know so little about time, but quantum physics gives us some understanding of how slippery a concept it is. At the very minimum, these techniques bring present comfort and a sense of being able to help what previously seemed beyond help.

    The feeling of powerlessness to change the past is one of the most corrosive aspects of regret. Even if it is only “imaginary,” the sense of efficacy we get from taking some retroactive action is priceless.

    For very traumatic situations, especially ones that you have not already explored in therapy, I would definitely recommend first trying these techniques with a therapist. However, most of us have a long list of more garden-variety regrets we could safely use “time travel” meditation to address.

    To begin, simply relax and breathe deeply, gently allowing the situation to come into your awareness. Let your intuition be the guide, and use any words, color, light or other visualizations that occur to you. (As a general rule, you can never go wrong by simply blanketing the experience with love and compassion.)

    Don’t force yourself to feel forgiveness if that isn’t what you feel—if there is some antagonist involved, you can safely just ignore them and concentrate on providing comfort to the one who needs it. Remember that you are the “wise adult” in this scene, there to provide perspective and support, not justice or retribution.

    Continue to breathe deeply and notice whatever emotions come up. Close the meditation when it feels complete, and return as often as you like! Sometimes once will be enough; sometimes (as with Lia’s birth) it will take many sessions to feel complete. Again, let your intuition be your guide.

    Be respectful if you use the technique on other people or situations that you didn’t personally experience. I felt close enough to Lia to insert myself into that scene, but I would hesitate to do so in most other situations. I also shared with her what I was doing and, even though she was still fairly young at the time, I think she loved the idea that her mommy was there, at least in spirit, at her birth.

    Although it’s true that “what’s passed is past,” it may be possible that we don’t need to leave it at that. I believe we can send our love and our energy through time and, in the process, perhaps heal ourselves of painful regret.

  • When Negative Thoughts Keep You Down: How to Break the Addiction

    When Negative Thoughts Keep You Down: How to Break the Addiction

    “We think we are our thinking, and we even take that thinking as utterly ‘true,’ which removes us at least two steps from reality itself.” ~Richard Rohr

    Do you frequently obsess over worst-case scenarios? Do you struggle to think well of yourself or others? Are you frequently stressed, anxious, or depressed? You may be suffering from an addiction to your negative thoughts.

    We all fall into patterns of negative thinking from time to time, often triggered by difficult circumstances or everyday stress. But when that pattern occurs over a long period of time, it can degrade our health in body, mind, and spirit.

    When bad things happen to us, we can feel incredibly helpless. Sometimes the way we fight back against this feeling is by making negative thinking a default way of life. It satisfies our deep need for a sense of control over our lives. It keeps us from being disappointed when disaster visits.

    We trade our own joy and happiness for certainty. It’s a huge price to pay for a bill of goods. Because in truth, the certainty we crave is an illusion.

    I’ve experienced the toxic effects of negative thinking in my own life. Growing up with a severe stutter meant that I was always on guard for negative comments from others about my condition.

    My peers in school constantly teased and mocked me. This was the crucible in which I formed the habit of thinking negatively about myself and others.

    Convinced I had nothing good to contribute to the world, I spoke very little and avoided people. Even after the bullying subsided, I deeply mistrusted the goodness of others. I was always looking for the worst in others rather than the best. My negative thinking became a compulsion.

    As I grew into adulthood, I realized how much my addiction was costing me, as my most important relationships suffered needlessly. I needed to break the addiction. Over the course of improving my own life, I learned some important lessons that helped me. If negative thinking is causing you to suffer, consider taking these steps:

    1. Own your negativity.

    Avoid blaming circumstances or other people for how you feel. When we blame, we surrender our power and ability to change our thoughts and feelings. We put ourselves at the mercy and whims of our environment and other people.

    The first critical step to overcoming any addiction is to acknowledge and own the problem. Understand that only you can choose how you react to your circumstances. Only you can challenge your negative thinking and change your life. Once I owned my reactions to people who teased me, I was ready to reclaim my power to choose a different response.

    2. Challenge all-or-nothing thinking.

    Many of us fall into the trap of all-or-nothing thinking. If things don’t go exactly according to our expectations, we immediately turn to the worst-case scenario. Such thinking is usually a distortion of reality. When we’re caught in this trap, we engage in faulty interpretations of the actions of others.

    If you’re waiting to hear back from someone, do you entertain thoughts such as: “She hates me” or “The answer must be no.” Instead of attaching yourself to these thoughts, immediately ask yourself, “What else could it be?” When you do this, you’ll probably come up with a list of other possibilities that can diffuse your negative thinking and may be actually closer to reality.

    For me, this meant challenging the belief that everyone I encountered was mocking my speech in their minds.

    3. Give people the benefit of the doubt.

    As we learn to entertain other options, the next important step is to choose those options that give people the benefit of the doubt.

    In her book Rising Strong, Brené Brown wrote about her arduous journey to discovering this ultimately freeing idea: “People are doing the best they can.” It’s hard for most of us to be this generous in our thinking, but it will free you from the mental trap of thinking negatively toward others.

    When the emails go unanswered, when your boss says no to your request, when someone says something that comes across as mildly offensive, choose to believe that people are doing the best they can. Choose to believe that they are not purposely trying to hurt you.

    4. Let go.

    Learning to give people the benefit of the doubt can open the door to forgiveness.

    For a long time, I deeply resented the people who mocked my stutter. This happened mostly in my childhood and adolescent years when my stutter was much more pronounced. Even now, an ill-conceived remark can transport me right back to those painful years. But I’ve since learned to let go of the hurt associated with these memories.

    Is a past hurt or painful memory fueling your negative thinking? Choose to let go of that memory every time it comes to mind. Say, “I choose to let go of this memory and to forgive the person associated with it.” Know that the process takes time. Know that there will be days when you won’t feel like letting go. But when you do, you’ll begin to experience inner freedom.

    5. Think big.

    Negative thinking allows us the “luxury” of not expecting too much from ourselves and others. If we always expect to be let down by others, we spare ourselves the pain of being let down.

    By allowing our negative thoughts to thrive, we create a safe and small space for ourselves—free of judgment, disappointment, disillusionment, and heartache. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we know that thinking small will likely not protect us from pain. And it will keep you from the joy that comes with personal growth.

    I struggled with the idea that my stutter meant that I should be silent—that I had nothing worthwhile to say anyway. Then I came across the famous “Our Greatest Fear” quote by Marianne Williamson.

    The line “Your playing small does not serve the world” struck a chord with me. I decided that I would not allow my stutter to silence me. I decided instead to think big by deciding to speak up. Allow yourself to think big, even when your inner monologue tells you not to.

    6. Expect failure and setbacks.

    Negative thinking often begins with the unrealistic expectations that the path should be clear for whatever you’re trying to accomplish. When things go off-script, as they often do, the negative mind will gladly use the event to reaffirm idea that you’re a failure or that you’re no good at anything.

    Instead of dreading or hastening failure through your negative thinking, expect it. When you’re tempted to entertain negative thoughts, smile or laugh. Take each challenge as a signal that you are working toward something worthwhile. Use setbacks as a chance to hone your skills rather than seeing them as a sign that you are no good. Decide to do this ahead of time don’t waver regardless of how you’re feeling.

    7. Practice meditation.

    One of the primary benefits of meditation is that you eventually realize that you are not your thoughts. Negative thinking addicts get a fix from their own thoughts and their way of thinking about the world. They fully identify themselves with those thoughts. So the thought “I am a failure” becomes all of who they are.

    By practicing meditation, you will be able to observe your own thoughts without identifying with them. Why? Because you are not your thoughts. Learn to observe them without judgment. Watch the thoughts come and go without clinging to them. Watch long enough and you’ll see that your negative thoughts have no power over you.

    8. Practice self-acceptance.

    We often discount the practice of self-acceptance because it feels too passive. At least when we’re actively engaging our negative thoughts, it feels like we’re doing something to control our circumstances when we feel most helpless.

    Morrie Schwartz, who taught the world how to practice acceptance in the face of death wrote, “Acceptance is not passive—you have to work at it by continually trying to face reality rather than thinking reality is something other than what it is.”

    Most of the time, our negative thoughts are anything but realistic. Self-acceptance allows us to acknowledge all aspects of ourselves without clinging or judgment. Instead of fixating on the bad, it means loving all of who we are. It means having the courage to correct any behaviors that are harmful without engaging in self-loathing.

    You Have What It Takes

    Want to break your addiction to negative thinking? Understand that your addiction is based on the illusion that you can avoid pain by experiencing negativity on your own terms.

    Yes, negative things will happen to us. And it will hurt. But you have what it takes to face the pain and negativity without becoming addicted to it. As sure as day follows night, know that the pain will eventually subside. Know that opportunities for happiness and joy will come knocking again. Let go of negativity so that you can fully embrace these opportunities when they come.

  • 5 Ways Journaling Can Help You Get Through the Hard Stuff

    5 Ways Journaling Can Help You Get Through the Hard Stuff

    “In the journal I do not just express myself more openly than I could to any person; I create myself. The journal is a vehicle for my sense of selfhood. It represents me as emotionally and spiritually independent. Therefore (alas) it does not simply record my actual, daily life but rather—in many cases—offers an alternative to it.” ~Susan Sontag

    My first journal was born into existence when I was twelve. I remember carefully choosing my favorite comics, pictures from magazines, and the odd scribble I’d drawn. Tongue stuck out in concentration, gluing them strategically on an unused exercise book. Wrangling with the clear sticky contact mum used to cover my schoolbooks, I encased the precious creation in it, preserving it forevermore: Nicole’s Diary.

    Needless to say it’s an extremely embarrassing collection of teenage angst, weird bits and pieces like lists of potential names for a child I didn’t and still don’t want; pages of dialogue between myself and other people with in-depth analysis of these conversations beyond anything reasonable; and daydreaming about the life I wished I had or complaining about the life I did have.

    Whenever I happen upon this old journal, It takes strength not to throw it away, just in case some invisible person were ever to discover it and think this was actually me.

    The journals since then have gone through phases. Phases where I wrote every day, or just once every few months. Where I was obsessed with recording quotes or where I collected everything from movie tickets to foreign sweet wrappers. There are endless lists, ways to improve myself, deep sadness, furious anger, joyful enthusiasm, unbridled hope, and ponderings on love during many a loving or loveless encounter.

    Historically journaling has been extremely popular, and if you think about the mountains of YouTubers and bloggers, it still is.

    They used to be more of a private affair, but consider the way we write when we really let the pen go. We’ve derived important pieces of the past from people’s journals. Are they genuine portraits of the time, or just endless, worrisome chatter from a mind trying to figure stuff out?

    These days it’s popular to have a gratitude journal, and I can see why—the idea being to cultivate gratitude as part of our being, and not give so much weight to the negative and the worrying. Remembering what we are grateful for is supposed to give us perspective on the hard stuff.

    But I don’t know. Writing about the hard stuff is actually what helps me get through it. It’s what makes journaling so incredibly powerful.

    Here are five reasons why:

    1. Journaling is the act of processing the past (and sometimes the future) in the here and now.

    For many of us, talking and writing isn’t about performance or the telling of something—it’s actually the processing. Getting it outside of yourself can give it a new shape.

    It’s like opening the clothes dryer mid-cycle. You interrupt the cyclic thinking and the jumble of ideas fall out, allowing each one to be tossed around and thought about on it’s own. The amount of times solutions have begun to appear while I was actually writing is astounding.

    2. Writing is and of itself cathartic.

    Try this: Set the timer on your phone for ten minutes, grab a pen, and write about your day until the alarm goes. Give yourself permission to burn it if you find yourself getting held back by the worries of who is going to read it (or delete it if you typed).

    Even if nothing at all has happened, you will most certainly have thoughts in your head that are dying to get out. Offloading conscious and subconscious stuff helps the mind become clearer and you calmer.

    3. Feelings and experiences become less overwhelming.

    A while ago I wrote a blog post about my partner’s beautiful little old dog being killed in a car accident. When I was writing the piece, I found myself crying almost the whole time.

    As I described the accident, moved onto what she meant to him, as I remembered my own times with her, it became an incredibly meaningful process. I spent some time looking for photos and wanted to honor her and the humans she had touched in her life.

    Writing about the grief helped me immensely. It slowed it down as well as enriched her life. I stopped simply wanting to escape the awful feeling and instead was able to wade through it and just feel. Even if no one read it, I felt like I’d created a full-bodied process—a eulogy—that honored her and helped me hold her light after she’d passed.

    4. Reading back helps reveal patterns.

    Sure, it can be frustrating to look back at a journal from three years ago and see that you are writing about the same thing in the same ways again, but that can also be empowering. It’s a researcher’s dream: go back and investigate and then spend some time reflecting on what keeps you stuck if you notice patterns.

    Similarly, you can celebrate any little (or big) changes you have made. “Wow, I used to worry about what people thought of me so much… it seems now I’m more concerned with what I think of myself and if I’m being a good person. What does that tell me about my journey so far? What do I want to take with me moving forward?”

    5. You can use creative journaling to change your story.

    We tend to tell our stories in the same way over and over, emphasizing the same points in the same ways, and even adding to a narrative by noticing everything that fits in with the story and ignoring everything that doesn’t.

    If that narrative is overwhelmingly negative (e.g.: I’m a people pleaser; I’m a doormat; I’m hopeless; I’m a victim; I’m unlovable; I’m always anxious; I can’t do anything about this; Only jerks like me etc.) then it can lead to a full-on negative identity conclusion based on one pretty shaky theme.

    Try injecting some freshness into a tired story. Journal prompts easily found via Google can help you do that, inviting you to answer questions you wouldn’t normally think of in the context of any given experience.

    Writing requires you to dig a little deeper into stories, where you may find that the ‘full’ conclusion isn’t based on much: you’ve dated a few jerks and have decided that you only ever attract terrible people. But if you are prompted to consider all the facts, there was a decent person who you just weren’t attracted to, so is there a more truthful nuanced conclusion to be considered in this narrative?

    What becomes available when you widen your perspective?

    —

    I can think of a bunch more reasons why journaling deserves a comeback, but I hope these five have injected some enthusiasm in you as a great starting ground. Just last month I began my own personal project of writing almost daily again, as well as launching a little Facebook group to discuss journal prompts.

    Sharing some of your writing has an added benefit of being seen—becoming visible in the ways you want and feel safe to. To acknowledge your struggles as well as find humor in them, and be able to see beauty in who you are no matter what, is more than worthy of the little effort it takes to pick up a pen (or use a voice machine) and pour ourselves onto the page.

  • How to Be There for Others Without Taking on Their Pain

    How to Be There for Others Without Taking on Their Pain

    “Letting go helps us to live in a more peaceful state of mind and helps restore our balance. It allows others to be responsible for themselves and for us to take our hands off situations that do not belong to us. This frees us from unnecessary stress.” ~Melody Beattie

    When our loved ones suffer, it’s hard not to get swept up in their pain. We want so desperately to fix them, to take away their hardship, and to see them flourishing.

    As a control freak, I often find myself going into “fixer mode” when my partner is struggling with work stress, which only makes me more anxious when nothing I suggest works, and him more frustrated when I get so preoccupied with his issues.

    Then, after all my frantic attempts at control, there’s a little voice inside that tells me to stop. To listen. To be there for him without trying to change anything. To witness his pain and sit next to him while he feels it.

    In this way, it’s not my job to fix his problems. It’s my job to be there for him with love as he figures out how to handle his own suffering. I am freed from feeling the responsibility of taking on his pain.

    Here are a few tips for how to not get overwhelmed when others are suffering.

    Realize that being supportive doesn’t mean fixing their problems.

    I often think back to when my mental health was at its worst. I dealt with debilitating panic disorder, agoraphobia, and depression, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for my family to see me suffering so greatly.

    But what I am most grateful for during that time is that my loved ones never tried to fix me. They didn’t become obsessed with finding a solution, and they didn’t rush me to get better. All of that would have increased my anxiety tenfold.

    Instead, they simply supported me. They constantly let me know that they were there for me if I needed them. Just knowing that I had someone to count on if things got hard was incredibly helpful.

    One way we can be supportive of others is to practice listening without the intent to respond with solutions. What would that be like if we simply held space for others without needing to respond?

    I took a yoga workshop recently where we partnered up with a stranger and took turns sharing our struggles. The one not speaking had to simply listen and was not allowed to respond.

    So we practiced listening with our whole bodies, hearts, and minds, released from the need to think of something to say in return. Instead, we got to be a loving witness to this person’s experience.

    Sometimes all that our loved ones need is to be seen and to know that someone is there for them.

    Allow them to find their own way.

    This can be hard. It’s hard to let go of control so much that you allow other people to have their own journeys. If my family or partner had stepped in during my rough patches with panic disorder, I wouldn’t have gone through the trenches of it myself.

    I wouldn’t have learned my own strength. I wouldn’t have been so amazingly transformed, body, mind, and soul, as I am now.

    At that time, I didn’t need someone to take away my pain; I needed someone to be there with love and patience as I experienced my own pain.

    Can we offer loving suggestions? Sure. Can we help them in productive ways? Of course. But at the end of the day, it is their lesson to learn. And we have to practice letting go of the outcome.

    When a relative passed from cancer a couple of years ago, it was horrifying to see her transform from a vibrant woman to a frail, bedridden one, writhing in pain. Those last few days, she lost her vision. She couldn’t eat or drink. All she wanted was for the suffering to end.

    After witnessing this, I automatically wanted to take on that pain. I felt it as my own. I started to suffer the pain she was experiencing.

    Eventually, I had to realize that this was her journey. This was her pain, not mine, and I didn’t have to take that on. It actually doesn’t help anyone or anything for us to carry around pain that isn’t even ours.

    Realize that you’re only responsible for yourself.

    You can’t control other people. You can’t control who suffers and who doesn’t. And what a burden that would be if we felt we needed to safeguard everyone in our lives from pain. That’s too overwhelming.

    You are only responsible for yourself. So how can you take better care of yourself as you care for others?

    If there’s someone in your life who is going through a rough time, you have to respect your own limits. You have to set boundaries in how much you can safely and lovingly give.

    Giving to others when we are depleted ourselves doesn’t serve us, and it doesn’t serve them if they aren’t receiving your help out of love, but out of obligation or fear.

    Instead, find ways you can care for and respect yourself so that you can be available as a support if that feels appropriate and safe for you.

    Practice grounding back into your own body and energy field often.

    When we’re caring for others, we may have a tendency to take on their energy. It’s like when we’re around an angry person. Even if we’re not angry ourselves, we may feel our heart quicken, our breathing become shallow, and our temperature start to rise.

    Practice grounding back into your own body so that you can recognize what’s yours and what is not.

    One way to do this is to get physical, connecting back to your own body through yoga, exercise, and dance.

    Immerse yourself in nature. I love to go hiking when I get overwhelmed with others’ energy and allow the grounding energy of the earth to support me. Spend time alone.

    Anything you can do to bring your attention back to your own body will serve you in grounding your energy.

    —

    It can be very difficult to separate ourselves from others and to let go of needing to take away our loved ones’ pain. It’s something I still struggle with, but I’m learning every day that I am not responsible for anyone else. I can be there with love and kindness, but beyond that is out of my control.

    All I can control is how well I care for myself, so that this love can then ripple out in support of others.

  • How to Get Out of Your Head and Stop Overthinking Everything

    How to Get Out of Your Head and Stop Overthinking Everything

    “It’s not a matter of letting go, you would if you could. Instead of ‘Let it go,’ we should probably say ‘Let it be.’” ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

    I always believed that a busy mind was a bad thing.

    And for a large part of my life, it was.

    Looking back, I don’t ever recall a time when I wasn’t caught up in my thoughts. There was always a “narrator” in my head. A constant commentary.

    I tried meditating but would spend ten agonizing minutes trying desperately to push my thoughts away or make them stop, which we know is impossible. Not thinking wasn’t unlike attempting to separate a limb from my body. Yup, such was my attachment to my thoughts.

    Yoga presented yet another futile attempt at mindfulness. I’d notice the other participants perfectly present and focused, while my mind would be hammering away, comparing me to others, debating why I was actually there, or criticizing my performance.

    The uninformed might think that only “negative” overthinking is the problem. However, in my experience over analysis or overthinking of any topic or event (even really happy ones) generally leads to a bad feeling place.

    For example, if someone paid me a compliment I would more often than not talk myself into believing that I wasn’t deserving of it. That the person in question was simply being kind, or feeling pity for me.

    Back then I felt trapped. My thinking mind was something I feared. It could start up at any time and unravel me. I would long to be able to simply switch it off.

    I over-analyzed everything. Simple conversations would become unnecessarily intense and uncomfortable. I found hidden meanings in every innuendo.

    My thinking knew no limits. It would scrutinize the past, present, and future. And boy, could it create some intense stories—none of which were true, of course.

    I felt cursed. Burdened. Why couldn’t I be normal??

    And, of course, those near and dear to me reflected that back to me.

    “Get out of your head!”

    “Don’t overthink everything!”

    “Why do you need to analyze everything??”

    And my personal favorite…

    “It must be exhausting being you.”

    It was exhausting. I was at constant war with myself. Was there a way to think less? Could I dummy-down my thoughts?

    In desperation, I learned how to smother my thinking. Food, drama, and bad relationships became my vices. They enabled me to co-exist with my manic mind.

    I was simply a victim of my thinking. Out of control.

    Until I happened upon a new understanding about our thinking.

    It’s an understanding that’s completely changed my life, about how our thinking is separate from who we truly are.

    We are not our thoughts. Nope, quite the opposite.

    We have a constant stream of thoughts meandering through our minds. That’s part of being human. However, we get to choose which of those to engage with.

    Author and blogger Pam Grout has a brilliant analogy for thoughts: They’re like a line of ants marching across your picnic blanket. You can choose to observe them as they keep on marching straight off the other side of the blanket and disappear, or you can choose to scoop them up and interact with them. Make them your focus. Fuss over them. And they’ll probably bite you too.

    But there’s your power: It’s your choice.

    You decide which thoughts you pay attention to.

    Because thoughts come and go. All the time. And that’s normal.

    If you’re able to observe the fact that you’re overthinking, then you’re already noticing the separation of you and your mind.

    It really is that simple.

    Like anything new, it’s taken time (and practice) for me to allow this understanding to really resonate and to notice the benefits, of which there are many. To name a few:

    • I’m more accepting of what is. I no longer feel the need to intellectualize and/or judge every facet of my life. And with that comes a real sense of ease.
    • I experience far more contentment. A busy mind often ends in a dark place if left untethered. By not engaging in the endless chatter, feelings of contentment have become a familiar friend.
    • I’m more empowered. Knowing that I can choose which thoughts to engage has removed any sense of victimhood I previously felt.

    As with any new habit, persistence is the key.

    What I’ve realized is that I don’t have to stop thinking, I simply need to be selective about whether I believe my thinking. Because most of our thoughts are just stories we make up, often regretting the past or worrying about the future.

    Most aren’t true. At all.

    I used to be a bit of a helicopter parent. I admit it.

    So when my daughter reached the age of legal driving and nightclubbing, my over-thinking mind went into overdrive. She would go out with her friends (as young adults do), and I would have an internal meltdown. Quite literally.

    My mind would imagine every worst-case scenario possible, in great detail.

    Car accidents. Date rape. Abduction. You name it, I imagined it.

    And it would replay over and over and over again in my mind, until I was a knot of nerves and worry. Sleep just wasn’t ever an option.

    I would start texting her from about midnight, just to check she was alive. (I was that bad…)

    When she finally got home in the early hours, I would feel such a flood of relief it was almost overwhelming.

    It was exhausting experiencing such intense emotion from one end of the scale to the other.

    Yet, it was all a result of my thinking. That’s all.

    And after a year of this roller-coaster ride I finally took action. Not with my daughter—with me. Or my thinking, to be more precise.

    This flood of thoughts that invaded my mind each time she ventured out would always be there, but it was my choice whether I took them seriously or not.

    So I started acknowledging their presence when they showed up, then I let them flow through me. I reasoned with myself that her life was hers to live, and that I had no control over her destiny. And that made it easier. Because that’s the truth.

    If I felt that familiar knot of anxiety in my gut, I would remind myself that none of those thoughts were real. I was okay. She was okay.

    And in time, it got easier. I worried less and less. I even managed to sleep while she was out!

    Nowadays, I only really listen to my thinking when it’s telling nice stories. Stories that makes me feel good. The rest of the time I either consciously change my thinking direction toward better feeling thoughts, or I just let my mind waffle on, without paying attention.

    It’s a bit like having the radio on in the background. And when a song starts that I like, I pay attention.

    Yup, I choose when to pay attention.

    No exceptions.

    My thinking doesn’t control me anymore. I control how I engage with it.

    My busy mind is my ally. My friend. My inner play-mate.

    And one of the things that makes me, me.

  • Letting Go of the Worry That Weighs Us Down

    Letting Go of the Worry That Weighs Us Down

    “Worry pretends to be necessary but serves no useful purpose.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    As a child, I remember my daily walks to elementary school. It was an uphill walk for the most part. Quite symbolic of later years, now that I think about it.

    I would walk to school every morning with my backpack filled to the brim with things that weren’t even necessary for my day at school. I had extra clothes, toys, and books. It was so heavy that after a few months the straps would begin to break down due to the pressure.

    Fast forward a few decades and the backpack I was carrying was a metaphorical one yet just as heavy, if not more. A backpack filled with spinning thoughts and unnecessary worries.

    I often visualized it as a backpack filled with bricks, with every spinning thought and worry symbolizing its own brick. I’m fairly sure I had enough bricks to build myself a 10,000 square foot home.

    It got to the point where the bag was so heavy, some days all I could do was stay in bed and sleep to relieve the pressure.

    The constant worry over every aspect of my life, big or small, would consume me.

    On any given day I could wake up and worry about things such as my social anxiety escalating to the point of a panic attack to not consuming my protein shake in an adequate time after my workout.

    It was exhausting, yet on some level comforting because I believed I was maintaining some level of control with all the worry.

    However, it wasn’t control at all; it was simply another uphill walk carrying a heavy, unnecessary, self-imposed weight on my back.

    I didn’t unload my backpack overnight, but gradually as I strengthened my trust muscle.

    I strengthened this muscle when I started letting go of the tight grip I was trying to maintain over my life and trusting that everything would work out for the best when I stopped trying to control everything.

    When you think about it, gripping something tightly with your hands is forceful, hard to maintain, and tiring.

    And it’s no different in life.

    When you choose to have faith that everything is going to work out for the best, when you release the struggle, that is when your backpack will become lighter, and you will no longer have to spend your life walking uphill.

    Do you remember being a child and running down a hill? How you could go so fast, it almost felt like you were flying.

    You didn’t think about where you would land at the bottom. You didn’t try to control your speed. Heck, you didn’t even worry that you could possibly trip and take a massive face plant.

    You just ran with all your might. And if you fell and scraped your knee or maybe even took that face plant, you would cry to fully release the pain but you knew you would be okay and would be back to run that hill again.

    I now believe you will know you have emptied your backpack of all its bricks when every day becomes like running down a hill like a child.

    So here is what I learned on my journey to lighten my backpack filled with ‘bricks.’

    Other people’s bricks do not belong in your backpack.

    I believe the sensitive souls and the caregivers of this world tend to carry the greatest amount of other people’s bricks.

    Let’s take my backpack, for example. For years I carried around my parents’ worry around having enough money for basic necessities.

    After witnessing and emotionally absorbing my parents’ struggle from being financially abundant in the 1980s to desperately trying to keep their business afloat during the early 1990s recession, my backpack was overflowing with a weight that was never meant to be mine.

    It wasn’t until about five years ago that I realized I had been carrying around these worries needlessly.

    I wasn’t struggling with money; in fact, I was doing quite well financially, yet I had this underlying fear of not being able to provide for my daughter and that my financial means would be taken away suddenly.

    I was basically recreating my parents’ worry from twenty years prior.

    So how do you lessen the weight of others?

    Often all it takes is the realization that other people’s expectations and worries about the world do not need to become ones you hold for yourself.

    They cannot become yours unless you allow it.

    It’s also important to note that you carrying their weight doesn’t free them of the weight, it simply multiplies it.

    You came into this world with zero bricks, you will leave this world with zero bricks, so it makes sense to live your present life the same way.

    All this pressure we carry around is simply the baggage we picked up along our journey through life.

    When we started interacting with the world around us, observing and listening to others, that’s when we began to fill our backpacks.

    However, when it’s time to transition out of this earth, those repetitive thoughts and heavy worries will cease to exist. So why not release them now and save yourself the ‘backache’?

    Worry is not an emotion of the present.

    It’s an emotion of a projected future, one that has no guarantee of occurring.

    Seems funny to give something that much energy with no guarantee of it even happening.

    However, we do it all the time.

    The moments when you are fully present you will feel no weight on your back, this I know.

    Sometimes all that weight just needs another place to reside.

    Spinning thoughts and worry create a heavy energy that can weigh you down.

    Sometimes all it takes is transferring that energy to relieve yourself of the weight.

    I now carry a notebook that’s used specifically for writing down any worries or thoughts I want to let go and release.

    The simple act of getting it out of your head and down on paper can be enough to feel lighter again.

    Here are some questions you might want to ask yourself if you are having a hard time freeing yourself of the backpack.

    What am I scared is going to happen if I let go of the worry and control?

    Many fears are completely irrational, but if you can be okay with the worst-case scenario, then that fear loses an incredible amount power.

    For example, I used to carry a lot of fear around my investments falling through.

    To calm that fear I visualized the worst-case scenario, which was me losing everything and basically being on the street.

    At first, it was scary, but I then began to feel an inner calm come over me that let me know, regardless, I would be okay. No matter the situation, I would prevail. I would find a way; I always did.

    After that, the fear lost its hold over me.

    How am I benefitting from continuing to carry this weight on me?

    Even patterns we perceive as being negative can give us a positive payout.

    For me, carrying around all that weight was giving me a false sense of control. As long as I was constantly thinking and worrying about something, I had control over the outcome. At least I thought I did.

    That false sense of control was my positive payout.

    Once I understood what I was getting from hanging on to the weight, it was much easier to release it.

    I was able to see that trying to have that level of control was exhausting and I could choose trust instead.

    —

    The amount of unnecessary stress and pressure us humans often carry is staggering.

    However, no one can force us to carry that backpack. We picked up that bag ourselves.

    But that also means we have total power to take it off and run downhill whenever we choose.

  • How to Stop Dwelling: A Simple Practice to Let Go of Anxious Thoughts

    How to Stop Dwelling: A Simple Practice to Let Go of Anxious Thoughts

    “Change your thoughts and you change the world.” ~Norman Vincent Peale

    We all encounter times in life when someone says or does something that offends us. After the fact, no matter how hard we try to let go of feelings of hurt or resentment, we might find it hard to move on.

    I know, I’ve been there before myself, mostly when I wished I’d told people how I really felt in certain encounters, or when I doubted what I’d said or done and then replayed past events over again in my mind.

    I am a reformed people pleaser, and as a result, I haven’t always expressed my honest feelings to others.

    More times that I can count, I felt self-conscious and anxious while approaching certain people and situations in life.

    Was I funny enough? Did I seem unintelligent? Did I unknowingly offend someone? These kinds of questions would creep into my mind and take over my mood on a daily basis.

    My self-doubt and fear of confrontation not only affected how I represented myself in social settings, it also caused a lot of unnecessary worry and tension in my relationships.

    There was a turning point when I was fed up with avoiding conflict and tired of feeling hurt. I realized that in order to change how I felt, I needed to perceive the world through a different lens.

    “You will be free the moment you stop worrying about what other people think of you.” ~Unknown

    In college, I remember one of my professors asking each person in the classroom what they wanted to accomplish at the end of their academic career. The first thing that came to mind was “I don’t want to take things personally any longer.”

    I didn’t realize it at the time, but at that very moment my journey had begun.

    While completing my degree, I worked closely with people who had been abused and neglected. They had been completely and utterly unseen by the people they trusted most. Not only did my heart ache for what they had lived through, my eyes slowly started to open. These amazing individuals were enough, even if no one ever led them to believe that they were.

    And I was enough. I didn’t have to second-guess the things that I did, or allow self-doubt to get in the way of my happiness.

    I could simply exist in the world without my anxiety defining me.

    Shortly after this discovery I met a kind Buddhist mentor, and through deep daily mindfulness practices, I learned how to tame the anxious, unproductive thoughts that came into my mind and not get swept away by them.

    As I continued my inner work, I was kinder and more patient with others and myself.

    In time, I realized that struggle is universal, and that we all share these encounters in some form at some point in our lives.

    How we relate to our pain is what shapes the outcome.

    We can either crumble under life’s pressures or embrace them and become more evolved versions of ourselves. Our true nature is who we are underneath our struggles and stories, and accessing that nature is the key to feeling at peace.

    Our disposition and family of origin greatly affect how we observe and react to the world around us. But we are not powerless; we can change how we respond to life’s difficulties.

    Have you ever admired someone who came out of the other end of adversity stronger, wiser, and better equipped for the road ahead? You do not have to admire that person; you can be them.

    Take a brief moment and think back to a time when someone said or did something that troubled you. Did negative thoughts take over your mind? Was your heart pounding? Did you find it hard to concentrate? Did this moment feel like it would never end?

    I know from personal experience that stress can sometimes feel like an out-of-body experience. Our thoughts can quickly take over and we can get caught up in our heads. Over time we can start relying on that comfortable place of simply reacting without thinking, or we can push our feelings away and disconnect from situations completely, like I did.

    For this reason, I have adapted my own go-to mindfulness exercise, inspired by Tara Brach’s RAIN practice, that I have used time and time again and referred to others. This method can help you to develop deep awareness of your thoughts, as you’re facing difficult moments or shortly after, while offering yourself words of compassion and kindness.

    One of the first times I put this technique into practice, it helped me move into a more accepting, healing place.

    A few years back I was at a meet for new mothers. It was my first time there, and all the conversations made it difficult to hear.

    I had asked someone in the crowd to repeat their child’s name, which was, “Wren,” a pretty name, like the bird. Another mother overheard me and loudly mentioned to another person that people from the city weren’t worldly and had little knowledge of nature.

    I wondered what I possibly could have done to offend this woman. My thoughts spread like a wildfire.

    I felt deeply angered by her comment. I proceeded to doubt myself, questioning if there was something I had said to the group that day which seemed silly or unintelligent. My next course of action was to start thinking of things to say to counteract her verbal attack, a way of proving my knowledge.

    While all of these ideas bubbled up in my mind, I was completely silent. I felt a burning sensation brewing in my stomach and chest.

    I tried to make the best of the meet after that, but couldn’t help but feel irritated. I gave this person the cold shoulder the rest of the day and was upset with her. I was also angry with myself for not rising above the pettiness by choosing to snub her.

    Later that evening, I kept thinking about what she had said and why she chose me as her target.

    Once again I had fallen into the trap of avoiding conflict at the expense of my well-being.

    I proceeded to break down what I was feeling and what needed my attention most, and this brought me much needed internal comfort.

    O P E N to Your True Nature

    The next time you find yourself over-thinking past situations or feeling overwhelmed by life’s stresses, try this exercise to offer yourself some compassion and bring yourself back into the present moment.

    Observe

    Close your eyes and take a breath. Notice how your body feels—tension in the stomach or heaviness in the shoulders, for example. Then notice the thoughts you’re thinking in the moment or are dwelling on from the past, and name them, such as, worrying, fearing, replaying, or planning.

    When you observe your thoughts, you’re able to choose which to believe and which to let pass. You can choose not to believe that someone else meant to hurt you, that you did something wrong, or you deserve to be judged. You can see these thoughts as nothing more than knee-jerk reactions to a perceived offense, and not reflections of reality or ideas you need to let influence your state of mind.

    Peace

    When you are ready, bring peace to your mind and body by saying, “I am deeply hurt and it is okay to feel the way that I do.” (Use comforting words to ease your distress about a specific situation.)

    Some other thoughts that may bring you peace: “Even if other people judge me, I don’t have to judge myself.” “What other people say and do is about them, not me.”

    Enjoy

    Take a deep breath and take a moment to sit in the calmness of mind and body.

    Nature

    Say to yourself: “The moment has passed and now I am at peace. This is my true nature.”

    More times than not, the present moment is an anchor, solace in the midst of chaos. You can always come back to the present moment.

    Observing my thoughts and accepting the situation for what it was not only enabled me to make peace with what happened, but also helped me foster compassion for the woman who offended me. I realized that her bias might have come from a vulnerable and wounded place.

    Being a new mom isn’t easy and I can identify with that; perhaps she was feeling insecure that day and displaced the judgment she had of herself onto me.

    Had I not have taken a step back to assess my own thoughts I may not have been able to feel compassion for her.

    As I continue to practice OPEN, it allows me to feel and examine the full gamut of my emotions, and in turn this allows me to feel deeper connection and concern for others.

    I am no longer as self-conscious and I don’t take things personally as often.

    The lesson I learned in all of this was that worrying about what others think of me does not change anything, and life is unpredictable and out of my control. This discovery was actually pretty liberating for me.

    I think we could all benefit from learning to tap into awareness and calm our mind. We can learn to forgive and be kind to ourselves, and to the people around us. And we can create space between ourselves and our anxious thoughts so that they don’t define us or throw us off our center.

    The next time you feel anxiety rising, remember that our thoughts can hold us back or deeply restore us. However, we do have a choice to listen to the thoughts that encourage us so we can open to our true peaceful (or balanced or noble) nature.

  • Leaping into the Unknown: Why We Don’t Always Need a Plan

    Leaping into the Unknown: Why We Don’t Always Need a Plan

    “You don’t always need a plan. Sometimes you just need to breathe, trust, let go, and see what happens.” ~Mandy Hale

    Wake up.

    Wish I could go back to sleep.

    Get up and ready for work. Tell myself that today I’ll leave earlier but then leave the same time as usual.

    Walk to work. Pass all the same people I did yesterday. At the same time.

    Arrive at work. Listen to the same people complaining about the same things. Complain about the same things myself.

    Teach my classes. Tell people off for being late—the same people as yesterday and the day before that.

    Go home. Try to work toward my dream life. Collapse from exhaustion after about half an hour and wonder what the point is.

    Go to bed. Cry lots. Hope that I don’t wake up in the morning.

    Wake up again and repeat.

    This was my routine for a good number of months before I finally couldn’t take it anymore.

    Did I have the world’s worst job? No, not really. Did I live in a hell hole? Not at all. In fact, you could probably say that I didn’t have any problems, yet I was possibly more miserable than I’d ever been.

    I couldn’t believe it. How had I ended up like this? I’d tried so hard to change my life. I’d meditated, done yoga, followed my dreams, made a vision board, and bought lots of self-help books. I’d even read them, too!

    What more was a girl supposed to do? Why wasn’t my life changing?

    I desperately wanted to leave my job, but couldn’t. I wouldn’t have the money to pay the rent. I wanted to leave my apartment but I had nowhere to go. Not unless I went to stay with my mother and, I couldn’t do that—not at my age!

    So I plodded on, I tried to be a good ‘spiritual’ person and accept my life as it was. I tried to make the best of things. And sometimes, it worked, but not for long.

    Eventually the feelings of dissatisfaction would return. The feeling of helplessness. Feeling stuck. Wanting to escape.

    But there was no way out. I’d be repeating this day forever. And ever.

    Let It Go

    Around this time, I was reading a lot about how we need to close one door before another can open. I was also seeing colleagues leave work to pursue a life of their dreams.

    Rather than giving me hope, this made me feel more downhearted. It was all right for them; they had money, a partner, a new job, or an already-up-and-running business.

    I was all alone. I was broke. I had no husband to support me. No rich relatives to bail me out.

    Everything I’d done to try to make a living out of work that I loved had already failed. I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. I just knew I didn’t want what I had.

    I’d get irritated when I’d read about how I had to simply quit my job, how I had to follow my heart. What if my heart was only telling me what I didn’t want? What if it was refusing to tell me what was next?

    What if I closed one door and the other one got stuck?

    What then?

    I was so afraid of what would happen, I held on for months, hoping for an answer to drop out of the sky.

    Until the pain of staying where I was suddenly became too much to bear. I couldn’t take it anymore. Suddenly, what happened next didn’t matter.

    I didn’t care.

    I saw the madness of what I was doing: staying in a job I didn’t want to do, to live in an apartment that I didn’t want to live in, to stay in an area that I didn’t particularly like. Just to survive. And even surviving wasn’t much fun.

    So I surrendered. I did what I’d felt called to do all along: I said goodbye to the security I’d been clinging to. With no idea of what was coming next. With no income and little money. And no idea where I was going to live.

    But as soon as I made my decision, I felt a huge sense of relief. I wondered what had taken me so long.

    Of course, it wasn’t long until the fear crept back in. I had moments when I wondered what I was doing and how I would survive.

    But even in those moments of doubt, there was a knowing that leaving my present situation was the right thing to do.

    All my life, I’d put survival first. Now it was time to put myself first.

    My happiness. My sanity. My peace of mind.

    The worst-case scenario may not be so bad. In fact, it might be quite good.

    I was lucky. I was never going to be out on the streets. I knew I had the option of returning to stay with my mother until I sorted myself out. But I really didn’t want to do that. I was far too old for that now.

    Besides, that would mean living in a town far away from anywhere, with no transport of my own. I’d be so lonely. I’d have even less chance of finding work I loved. I’d be even more stuck!

    Despite my best hopes that something else would magically turn up, I indeed ended up returning home. I tried telling myself it would be fine, but the scary thoughts were still lurking.

    However, within a couple of weeks of the move, I saw the new path begin to emerge—chance meetings with like-minded people, work opportunities in unexpected places, community events where I thought there’d be none.

    And for the first time in months, I actually felt happy. Because for the first time in my life, I was truly putting myself first. And I was truly living in the present. Survival was no longer the name of the game. My own peace of mind and happiness was.

    When the pain of being where you are is too much to handle, when life is shoving you in the direction of the unknown, dare to trust it.

    As I said, I was lucky. I know not everybody can do exactly as I did. Not everyone has someone who can help them out while they make a drastic life change.

    I also know how annoying it can be to be told to change your life when you simply don’t see how. But the point here isn’t to do what I did, but to let go where you can even if you have to face your own worst-case scenario.

    When you begin to take care of yourself, when you follow what feels good for you and put your own physical and mental health first, you’ll find the path will begin to open up. You’ll find support from unexpected places.

    You may even find that your worst-case scenario turns out to be the best thing you could have hoped for.

    What I’ve learned is that having a plan is overrated. Sometimes we really do need to let go and see what happens next.

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

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

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

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

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

    I sigh deeply and continue scrolling.

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

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

    No yellow and crooked teeth, either.

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

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

    I sigh once again and continue to scroll on Facebook.

    —

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

    Does this voice sound familiar to you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    We have to wonder, who are the newsfeeds feeding?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    This is the beauty of being human.

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

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

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

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

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

  • How My Drive to Succeed Led to Crippling Anxiety (And How I Got My Life Back)

    How My Drive to Succeed Led to Crippling Anxiety (And How I Got My Life Back)

    “The only way out is through.” ~Robert Frost

    The suffocating pressure from being obsessively focused on achievement and improvement led to escalating stress and anxiety over the years, but I ignored my feelings and kept attacking my goals.

    Over time it became darker and heavier. It became crippling. It forced me to put a stop to almost everything in my life.

    I’m a type A personality driven by a need for accomplishment. When I was in elementary school, I did my homework immediately after getting home even though my mom begged me to take a break. In high school, I regularly stayed up past midnight working on homework and scholarship applications.

    This need to succeed brought many gifts. I succeeded in school, work, and sports. My methods to achieve my goals were consistently reinforced by positive results.

    But this “success” came with a price that took a toll on my mental health. The only way I knew to succeed was through uncompromisingly high expectations and an unrelenting work ethic. When things didn’t go right, I was hard on myself and doubled down on my efforts.

    The journey to reclaim my life from anxiety took six months that felt like six years. Along the way, I learned how to manage my anxiety (there is no defeating it) so that I could live my life again: accept everything as it is, try to succeed without attaching to the outcome, and let thoughts come and go.

    Crippling Anxiety

    Over the years, as I pursued one goal after another with laser focus, the anxiety grew. I didn’t understand what it was. I didn’t want to deal with it.

    I felt ashamed of the emotions my anxiety created. I felt like I shouldn’t be having the thoughts that raced and spiraled through my head.

    I tried to stop them through sheer willpower. That created more anxiety. I didn’t utter a word about anxiety to anyone, even myself.

    About nine months ago, the anxiety I had been pushing down for years exploded like a volcano. It didn’t give me the option to continue ignoring it.

    It forced me to stop almost everything in my life: writing, running errands, hanging out with friends, and taking part in any social activities. During this time, I only left my house to go to work. Commuting to work and making it through the day took up every ounce of energy and willpower I had.

    I worried on a mental loop. I worried about worrying. I couldn’t stop the seemingly endless dark thoughts, fears, and mental distortions that surfaced.

    My mental loops and panic attacks could last for six hours before I got a second of relief. I had an overwhelming fear of losing it all. The anxiety manifested itself physically through shortness of breath and elevated heart rate.

    I twisted and turned in bed for hours because it was so painful. The anxiety came in unrelenting waves. It came with the force of a hurricane.

    Days and weeks were swallowed by an endless loop of anxious and fearful thoughts that felt like they would never release their grip on me. Surviving each day became an all-consuming task.

    Road to Recovery

    Getting better was the toughest challenge of my life, even though I directed my will to succeed and work ethic to healing. Freedom from the prison of anxiety felt so far away that I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to live my normal life again.

    The recovery was painfully slow for my driven personality. At the beginning of the process, panic attacks and racing thoughts dominated my days. But I kept working at it, regardless of how dark and hopeless I felt.

    I tried my best each day. I took it one day at a time. I went to therapy twice a week, exercised every day, meditated three times a day, and played Mario every day to relax myself and quiet my mind.

    I tried to practice acceptance. I tried to not resist or dive into the dark thoughts. I say “tried” because most of the time I failed at successfully executing these habits.

    I had the highest urgency to improve. My life depended on it. Every action I took was centered around managing and decreasing the anxiety.

    Every day felt like an epic battle with my mind. I learned the hard way that there are no quick fixes for anxiety. There’s no strategy or seven-step program that eliminates anxiety from your life.

    Slowly but surely, I made progress. It felt like three steps forward, two steps back. Yet, most weeks were better than the prior week.

    Over time, I gained tools and skills that helped me cope with the anxiety. I learned new lessons every day about dealing and living with anxiety. I uncovered important truths about what had led me to this painful reality.

    The anxiety forced me to examine my actions, priorities, and values, and where my life was headed. At the time, I wished there were easier ways to learn those lessons. Your greatest teachers are your failures. That’s the way life works.

    I’d like to say it’s been a storybook ending. That I’ve conquered anxiety. That the racing thoughts and fear have vanished from my life. Anxiety doesn’t work that way, though.

    That being said, I’m back to living my normal life. I’ve discovered a new definition of success. I’ve improved my ability to manage the anxiety.

    Mindsets to Manage Anxiety

    Anxiety still shows up unannounced. I can’t control the intensity or nature of my anxiety. However, I can manage it if I’m mindful of how I go about my days and how I react to it when it shows up.

    Everyone’s anxiety is unique. If you’re battling anxiety, you’ll have to experiment to find out what works best for you. But you’re not alone.

    Although people don’t tend to talk about their struggles with anxiety, more people than you can imagine deal with intense anxiety: an estimated 40 million Americans suffer from anxiety disorders.

    Here are behaviors and mindsets that generally decrease my anxiety levels:

    • Accepting everything in my life as it is
    • Not worrying about things I can’t control or change
    • Observing my thoughts from the sidelines instead of engaging with them
    • Questioning thoughts: Do I have to go into this thought? Is this fear-based thought true?
    • Allowing anxiety to spend time with me; riding the wave instead of going against the current and fighting anxiety
    • Being okay with my flaws and weaknesses
    • Letting go of the need to succeed and accepting the outcome of my actions, good or bad

    These behaviors and mindsets cause my anxiety to spike:

    • Replaying past experiences on a mental loop
    • Being hard on myself when I don’t meet my standards
    • Blaming myself for actions or thoughts that caused me more anxiety
    • Resisting fearful thoughts or anxiety
    • Engaging with and reacting to every thought; being in the middle of the storm of my thoughts
    • Trying to deconstruct why I had a thought or feeling
    • Trying to control my thoughts instead of my reactions to them
    • Obsessing over what other people may think about things I did or said
    • Needing to and having to succeed

    Acceptance is the Key Ingredient

    I resisted the concept of acceptance when my therapist introduced it to me. I thought if I practiced acceptance, I would lower my standards and give up my commitment to excellence.

    I thought acceptance represented being okay with mediocre effort and average results. I thought it would lead me to lose the drive to succeed that has been one of the key ingredients to my accomplishments in life.

    I was wrong. Acceptance can (and should) be paired with a drive to succeed. An engine to produce at a high level leads you to put in the hard work that’s necessary to achieve your goals.

    Acceptance allows you to let go of the result once the hard work is complete. It frees you from worrying and being attached to the outcome, because that’s out of your control. Acceptance is living in the world of what is, instead of what should be, what could be, or what you want it to be.

    Acceptance is a simple idea yet it’s difficult to put it into practice for a perfectionist with a tendency to overanalyze. Although it’s been a struggle to increase acceptance in my life, I’ve discovered a few tools that have been effective: meditation and reframing my mindset during and after anxious episodes.

    Meditation has vastly improved my awareness of thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Awareness is crucial for managing anxiety effectively. When I’m anxious, step one of acceptance is to feel and acknowledge my emotions.

    The next step is to ask myself some version of this question: “Is there anything that I’m not accepting in this moment that’s causing or increasing my anxiety?” Once I pinpoint what I’m resisting and choose to accept it, I know the anxiety will subside.

    Many times, I can reframe my mindset in the middle of the anxiety. I can mentally shift from fighting the present circumstances to accepting them as they are. Other times, the anxiety takes over and I have to brace myself until the clouds clear. Once I’m out of the storm, I can dissect that situation and identify the lack of acceptance and the friction that led to the high levels of anxiety.

    For example, an argument with my wife can trigger anxiety because I wish that the disagreement never happened. I can’t accept where I am in that moment until I accept that I didn’t act like my ideal self in that situation, and that I can’t go back to change the past. Once I accept the argument and the anxiety it caused me, the friction disappears and my anxiety levels start to drop almost immediately.

    My performance can also be a trigger. I can get intense anxiety from mentally replaying the mistakes I made on a work project that didn’t go as well as I expected. I also experience anxiety when I fail to accept the way decisions are made in a large corporation. Or I don’t accept that people often behave in ways that are different than what I expect or value.

    If I’m trying to control things that I can’t change or affect, I’m not accepting my current situation. Trying to act outside of my sphere of control is resisting the way the world works. It’s like not accepting that I can’t change the laws of gravity.

    Once I accept my past mistakes or that I can’t control how others act and what their priorities are, I can fully accept my present circumstances. When I accept that I experience high levels of anxiety frequently and that my reactions to anxiety sometimes cause more anxiety, I can live without bracing myself for the next attack.

    I can let go because I’ve accepted that I will have high levels of anxiety again and that I will make mistakes in how I handle the anxiety again. It doesn’t mean I like being anxious. It just means I’ve accepted where I am at this time in my life. I can take action from there instead of where I wish I was. I can take action within my zone of control.

    I’ve experienced the deepest moments of tranquility that I’ve had in my life in the last couple of months. These magical moments happen during the brief windows when I’ve accepted everything in my life as it is.

    My mind quiets because there is no friction or turbulence. I lose myself in the sounds and sights of my environment. I hear the birds chirp. I see all the different colors of the leaves.

    Redefining Success and Anxiety

    I used to be afraid of my anxiety because it felt so intense, emotionally and physically. Although I still experience intense anxiety on a daily basis, I’m now thankful for the anxiety I’ve experienced (sometimes even while I’m caught up in that crushing anxiety).

    This is a perspective that only comes after being through the eye of the storm of anxiety. If you’re in the middle of that storm, your only job is to get through it so you can get to a place where you feel safe.

    I’m thankful for anxiety because it has brought many gifts. Because of it, I quit relentlessly pursuing success at any cost. I started meditating. I began exercising regularly again. I prioritized balance in my life.

    The most important lesson anxiety has taught me is that a successful life isn’t defined by how many achievements I’ve collected. Instead, success is building and nurturing relationships, being present to the little things in life, being grateful for the gift of life, exercising the mind and body, and living the life I want without looking over my shoulder to see what others are chasing.

    I don’t always follow the formula I discovered for my new definition of success. But when I adhere to my success formula, my days are significantly better than when I fall back to my habitual ways.

  • The Miscarriage: Why My Heart Feels Full In Spite of My Loss

    The Miscarriage: Why My Heart Feels Full In Spite of My Loss

    “Suddenly you’re ripped into being alive. And life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror, but my god you’re alive and it’s spectacular.” ~Joseph Campbell

    They say all feelings have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

    The truth is that I’m still in the middle part, but I felt like it was time to share this story with you—not just for me, but for all women who have faced this and for all women who have made a plan and then surrendered as the plan changed.

    Two months ago, I had a miscarriage.

    The pregnancy was a little bit of a surprise. We’d been talking about it, but weren’t “trying.” (Sidenote: I got off birth control pills years ago when I quit drinking alcohol—best decision of my life, but that’s a different story.)

    Over the years, I really learned my body and I’d been able to sync up with my cycle, except for this one time a few months ago when I miscounted the days. Whoops.

    I took a pregnancy test. Two lines. I took three more pregnancies tests. All four said the same thing: two lines = pregnant.

    Were we excited? Were we scared? Do we celebrate? Did we just mess up our entire lives? Do we move? Do I cancel my work trips in the fall? All the plans. All the feelings. All at once. But the excitement was incredible—we made a baby!

    I started telling the women closest to me.

    My husband started calling and checking in more than normal.

    We were preparing in our own way.

    I was early. Only eight weeks.

    And I was eager to tell my family in person because I just so happened to have a trip already planned to see them.

    But before boarding the plane a few weeks ago, I could sense something was going on. I called a close friend and told her that I was starting to feel attached to the little creation growing inside of me and that I was scared I would lose it. Part of me already knew, even though I wouldn’t find out for another week.

    My wise friend said something I’ll never forget. She said,

    “Julie, no matter what happens, you’ll be okay.”

    She was right. She’s always right.

    A week later, when I started spotting, I was in my mother’s bathroom in Louisiana. I had told her the news the night before. I immediately called that same friend, then my husband, then the doctor. Tears and more tears. I knew what was happening.

    Emergency ultrasound.

    My sister (my closest friend and a nurse) moved into action, told me what to do, and pulled all the strings for my appointment.

    My mother sat on the couch with me, held my hands, cradled my face, and prayed with me.

    My father rushed to my side with fierce strength and held back his tears with loving tenderness.

    My husband, thousands of miles away, held strong—mentally and emotionally—and kept telling me that everything would be okay. One step at a time. Always, grounding and anchoring me.

    They were all strong for me, which allowed me to be soft.

    The ultrasound showed no heartbeat and a tiny little thing measuring only six weeks. It wasn’t time.

    I walked out of the doctor’s office and paused at the door before meeting my parents on the other side. I cried and held my womb and cried some more.

    I cried for the loss of the plans we’d made.

    I cried for the loss of what could have been our baby.

    I cried for myself, for my husband, for our family, and for all the women who have been initiated into this phase of life.

    My parents rose to their feet the moment they saw me. We stepped into the hallway so I could tell them the news without disturbing the pregnant women waiting for their appointments.

    I told them what I saw and what I knew. I cried and they cried. My mom cried for her baby and her baby’s baby. My dad cried for his little girl. My sister called fourteen times waiting for the news. My husband remained peaceful, hopeful, and calm on the other end of the phone.

    They were steady in the midst of my storm.
    My body released everything naturally. It was intense and beautiful. My hormones started to regulate. My heart is starting to heal.

    I say this again and again in the work I do, but I believe it to be truer now more than ever….

    In order to be fully alive, we must feel it all.  

    My heart was torn open into a hundred piece two months ago, but not just because I was sad. It was torn open as I learned to feel even more.

    My heart held grief and love in a way that I never knew could co-exist. To witness the miracle of my body, the beauty of being a woman, and the strength and resilience of my spirit blew me away.

    I am different.

    Clear. Focused. Fierce. Tender.

    I am more me than I’ve ever been.

    A new rite of passage. A new opportunity to deepen within myself.

    In many ways this little spirit baby birthed me. I am no longer the same.

    Life isn’t meant to be easy, or perfect, or happy all the time. Life is meant to confront us. It will get in our face and push our boundaries and stretch our limits.

    Life doesn’t do this to be cruel. It does this to remind us of our strength and bring us closer to our spirit.

    In the midst of grieving in a way I’ve never done before, I feel stronger than I ever have before. It’s such a weird paradox.

    That’s the beauty of life.

    With every twist and tug and pull, with every heartache and break, life is making us all. Making and molding and polishing our soul so that we may one day shine even brighter.

    This is life.

    I continue to welcome all of life—the heartbreak and hope, the pain and the joy, the smiles and the tears. There is room for it all.

    Above all things, I trust more than ever before that life is completely and utterly holding me. I don’t have to do a thing. Life has got me and if it’s not this, it will be something else because that’s the way life works.

    I feel a deep sense of peace and openness as I finish this note to you.

    My heart feels full. Full from love. Full from pain. Full from life. And that is a beautiful gift.

  • When Too Much Stuff Gets in the Way of All the Good Stuff

    When Too Much Stuff Gets in the Way of All the Good Stuff

    “The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less.” ~Socrates

    When Hans and I relocated from Chicago to Ann Arbor, we wanted to live in a house with a big yard so we could plant flowers and get a dog.

    There were two backstories feeding these wants. I grew up on a farm and we always had a dog or two. And having lived in Chicago three-flats for a decade, I was ready for some green grass.

    There were other things on our wish list, including enough space (to live in and for our stuff) and a garage (for the car and more stuff). And I think granite countertops might have been mentioned.

    After looking at a dozen houses, we found our home. By today’s standards, it was actually on the small side at 1,400 square feet (compared to the average size home of 2,500 square feet).

    There was a living room, family room, dining room, and kitchen. There were four bedrooms and two and a half baths. We don’t have kids, so that’s two bedrooms and a bathroom each—with half a bath left over!

    We earmarked a room for my home office, a workout room for the elliptical, a room at the far end of the house for Hans to loudly watch hockey…

    It seemed there was a separate room designated for every possible activity. And with so many rooms to choose from, it’s a wonder we ever ended up in the same room at the same time.

    Filling the Space

    Conventional wisdom says when you have space, you fill it up. And we did.

    We brought furniture from Chicago and we bought furniture in Ann Arbor. We went to home stores and container stores and hardware stores. We acquired things to fill the space.

    Whether we needed all that stuff wasn’t really discussed. We had the space and it needed to be filled (or so I thought back then).

    But a funny thing happened as we settled into our new home after years of apartment dwelling. We realized a couple things that would have been nice to have figured out beforehand.

    First, we hated yard work. Mowing the lawn felt like a huge waste of a weekend afternoon. My would-be green thumb forgot how much I dislike getting sweaty and dirty and toiling in the soil.

    And the dog? Yes, we really wanted a dog to love and pet and love some more. It would’ve been easy to just focus on the wonderfulness of having a chocolate lab…

    But as we started to notice the disconnect between the dream of a big yard and the reality, we realized the doggie dream was much the same.

    What Freedom Feels Like

    We started to embrace this about ourselves: The less commitment and obligation in our lives, the freer—and better—we feel.

    Initially, this was really uncomfortable for me to admit. I worried not wanting responsibility and obligations made me less of an adult.

    But as soon as I have that thought, the record skips and I say WHHHAAAT?!

    Because I’ve realized being a mature adult is knowing who you are, what makes you comfortable in your own skin and at peace in your own mind—and then designing your life around what’s true for you.

    In our more-is-better consumer culture, it’s easy to buy into all the messages about what we’re supposed to want and supposed to have. But what if you get those things and … meh … they just don’t resonate. Then what?

    Because that’s what happened to Hans and me.

    Everything looked great from the outside, but just didn’t feel quite right. It took us awhile to figure out the disconnect between what we thought we wanted and what we really wanted.

    So, after the first year in our home, no flowers were planted. We paid someone to take care of the lawn. And I made sure to pet other people’s dogs whenever I got the chance.

    But… we couldn’t unknow what we now knew: We’re not house people. Or the landscaping-on-the-weekends type. And while we’re totally dog people, we’re dog lovers—not dog owners.

    So Now What?

    Hans and I started to have the conversation:

    • If we’re not house people, who are we?
    • If we’re starting to have a different relationship to space and stuff, what does that mean?
    • If we quiet the voices about how we’re supposed to live and what we’re supposed to want, what do we hear that’s really true for us?

    We began to realize we wanted less. Less space and less stuff. Less housework and less upkeep. Less overhead and less oversight.

    If you’re on your own, making a life-altering change can be a solo decision. But when you’re partnered up, it would be a tough compromise if one of you wants the McMansion and the other wants to go live in a Tiny House.

    Luckily, Hans and I were on the same page: We had a short list of new wants.

    We wanted to downsize.

    For us, this meant we wanted to significantly reduce our square footage. We made a conscious choice to define “enough” for ourselves.

    We rejected “more is better” as a default and really thought about how much space we need to be comfortable and how many rooms we want to clean.

    All in all, we went from a house of 1,400 square feet to a hotel room of 300 (for six months while our apartment was under construction) to our current abode of 733 square feet. We have a kitchen, living room, bedroom, and bathroom.

    And I can honestly say we’ve never been happier or felt closer. In fact, Hans and I joke that we could easily go lower, perhaps to 500 square feet. But, for now, our 733 square feet is home sweet home.

    We wanted to rent, not own.

    Home ownership has historically been something you’re supposed to want, save, and strive for. For me, renting an apartment equals freedom. Freedom from maintenance, but also the freedom to decide next month I want to move to Denver or Sweden.

    Home ownership, on the other hand, feels locked in, less fluid.

    I’m frequently asked: Don’t you feel like you’re just wasting money renting? Don’t you think you’ll regret not building up equity?

    My answer: No and no. We’re paying rent to buy a lifestyle that works for us. And while we’re not building up equity, day-to-day peace of mind is priceless.

    Of course, I’m not advocating apartment renting over home ownership for everyone. I’m only speaking to what I’ve come to realize is true for me—even as it goes against the societal norm.

    We wanted less stuff. 

    When you halve your square footage it follows you’ll need to do the same with your belongings. In our case, we also gave up a garage (aka: three walls lined with large blue storage bins), which meant dramatically reducing our possessions.

    In a smaller living space, every possession needs to earn its keep. Less square footage necessarily raises the bar for what comes into your home.

    I found these questions useful for deciding what to keep versus what to get rid of:

    • Do I love it? Is it beautiful? Does it enhance my well-being?
    • Is it functional? Do I use it?
    • Does it reflect who I am today and where I’m headed—rather than keep me rooted in the past?
    • Do I only have this out of guilt or obligation?
    • Am I okay with the price I pay for owning it—the overhead to maintain, the time to clean, the cost to insure, etc.?

    I also noticed this about downsizing: Stuff is not just stuff.

    We have all kinds of complicated relationships with the things we own. In fact, at times it can feel like our stuff owns us rather than the other way around.

    When we decided to downsize, I realized I had to stop coping with life’s boo-boos, disappointments, and frustrations by acquiring more stuff. It’s easy to stuff feelings with stuff. They don’t call it “retail therapy” for nothing.

    I also had to untangle my relationship to my belongings. For instance, if I get rid of something my grandmother gave me, does that mean I didn’t love her? Of course not, but it can be challenging to look at items objectively and separate the person from the thing.

    We wanted to live in a walkable downtown.

    When we decided to downsize we were lucky to already be living in a city with great walkability. In fact, Ann Arbor is often rated as one of the most walkable communities in the country.

    We wanted to be able to stroll to a nearby restaurant for dinner on Friday night and walk to the farmer’s market on Saturday morning. We wanted to be able to walk to the post office, library, cafes, and movie theaters.

    We all value different things, so walkability won’t be at the top of everyone’s list.

    The key is taking time to really consider what’s most important and be intentional about the kind of life you create around that.

    We wanted to be car-free.  

    In some ways living without a car has been even more interesting than downsizing. I’ve had a driver’s license and a car since I was sixteen years old. While Hans lived for a time in New York and L.A. without a car, he’d become accustomed to the convenience of 24/7 access to his own set of wheels.

    So why did we want to be car free? We could just have easily changed our living situation and kept our car.

    It was simply the answer to this question “How much overhead do we want to support?” Because even when you own your car (as we did), there’s the ongoing overhead of gas, insurance, registration, maintenance, repairs, parking, etc.

    It comes back to knowing ourselves and embracing who we really are. I’ll say it again: Hans and I are not big on too much responsibility and obligation. Owning a car feels like both.

    If public transportation or walking are not options, we get a Zip car for an hour or two or book a rental car for longer weekend trips.

    We make living without a car an adventure rather than a sacrifice. There’s something fun about figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B when you can’t just step outside and hop in your car.

    And I never say, We don’t have a car—as if it’s about scarcity. I always say, We are car-free to emphasize it’s a choice, an intentional act.

    The capacity to enjoy less 

    Our journey of downsizing and living with less stuff has been one of redefining “enough.” Of figuring out the disconnect between what we thought we wanted and what we really wanted.

    We have far fewer possessions and so much more time and freedom. With less square footage, we have less housework, less upkeep—and less stress.

    Can you say less really is more?

    Here are ten journaling prompts to help you explore your relationship to your stuff and your space.

    1. What do you believe about how much living space you need? Where do those beliefs come from? Have they changed over the years?

    2. Look around your home. Is everything useful or beautiful?

    3. What truth about yourself are you on the verge of embracing? What will be different or possible when you embace this truth?

    4. Do you think we live in a more-is-better consumer culture? How does this play out—or not—in your life? In what ways is less more?

    5. Is there anything about your life that looks great on the outside, but doesn’t feel so great on the inside? What can you do to close this gap?

    6. What is your definition of “enough”?

    7. “Stuff is not just stuff. In fact, at times it can feel like our stuff owns us rather than the other way around.” Agree or disagree? Be specific by stating why.

    8. Have you ever tried to shop away boredom, worry, or pain? What’s your experience with “retail therapy”?

    9. What five factors are most important when it comes to your lifestyle wish list?

    10. We don’t have a car versus We are car-free. How can you use this type of distinction in your own life to emphasize choice and intention?

  • How to Stop Sweating the Small Stuff and Let Go of Your Grudges

    How to Stop Sweating the Small Stuff and Let Go of Your Grudges

    “Let today be the day you stop being haunted by the ghost of yesterday. Holding a grudge and harboring anger/resentment is poison to the soul.” ~Steve Maraboli

    You are tired of it, aren’t you?

    You find yourself arguing again. You feel anger rising up in you.

    You realize there’s no use in trying to explain your position and decide to stop the conversation.

    But the topic still buzzes in your head…

    This used to define my marriage.

    The first few years of my marriage were constant arguing. After each argument my mind would run over and over the things he had done to hurt me, the things I was expecting him to do, the things that I couldn’t trust him with.

    I’d spend days without talking to him, my anger festering inside me.

    After a couple of days I could still feel those negative feelings eating me inside, so I’d half-heartedly reach out to the “enemy.”

    How long could we keep on going like this?

    The power struggles, the held grudges, the unhappiness were taking a big toll on our marriage. They were creating distance between us. The strong bond we had was dying.

    Finally I asked myself, “Where are we going? Are we going to let grudges ruin our marriage? Is our marriage going to become another statistic?”

    After some thinking I realized the arguments were always over minor things, not important values, not the things that made each of us who we were.

    Chores were a constant source of grudges for us. I’d expect him to spontaneously help. But he was wired differently. Unless I asked him to do something, he wouldn’t do it.

    Why wasn’t he more helpful? Couldn’t he see that I was tired and needed help with the dishes? I’d wait for him to offer to help but he’d just sit at the table.

    By the time I was done with the dishes I’d be so mad I’d snap at the first comment he’d make.

    It was not a healthy situation.

    We finally decided to make some changes. We decided to put our marriage first. To put small differences aside, at least most of the time.

    Grudges are poisonous.

    Deep down inside you, you know you should vanish them from your mind. They steal your happiness. And bottled up, that anger will rob you of your health, too.

    Is it worth it to hold onto grudges?

    Of course not!

    Avoid Sabotaging Your Happiness

    Whether it’s your partner, a friend, or a relative, grudges creep into our relationships. We are imperfect people living with other imperfect people in a very messed up world.

    But we get to choose if we are going to put a higher price tag on our relationships and save them from ruin.

    Of course, not every relationship is worth saving, but some are.

    If you reached the point where you feel you need to decide to stay in the relationship or pull the plug, it will help you to sit down, once your anger is gone, and go through these seven eye-opening points.

    1. Decide if you want to win the battle.

    At the time of the argument you decided that you couldn’t let go. It was an important issue for you.

    Is winning still important? Are you willing to permanently harm your relationship over this disagreement? You may find that the issue is very important or maybe not as much as you thought back then.

    It’s up to you to decide.

    2. Evaluate the importance of the argument.

    You can’t evaluate impartially when you are angry, so don’t be hard on yourself. But once you aren’t angry any more, maybe after a good night sleep, you can continue the healing process.

    Then ask yourself, am I compromising my beliefs if I let the grudge go?

    In our marriage, I realized our grudges were based on petty things and the solution was within our reach. Communication was the key.

    We didn’t change overnight. Years later we still have to work on letting go of grudges every now and then. But gone are the days of constant bickering.

    3. Know that every relationship involves at least some struggle and disappointment.

    No relationship runs smoothly all the time. You are going to have disagreements in every relationship. It’s part of living with others.

    You may wonder, “What if it happens again?”

    Grudges will happen again with this person and others. In our marriage disagreements happened again and again and again. We both had to learn how the other person communicated and the best way to work together.

    But ask yourself, are you willing to live your life alone? You’d be missing out on a lot of bright, fun, and happy moments.

    4. Ask yourself if you’re truly “winning” by holding on to your grudge.

    If you decide not to let go you’ll keep your ego intact. You “win.” Or do you?

    What are you sacrificing? What do you gain by holding on to the grudge?

    Sometimes the person you had the discussion with is not someone you should keep in your life, and sometimes it is.

    In any case, keeping grudges is not good for your inner peace. Your mind goes down negative circles and that harms you more than anyone else.

    5. Recognize the power of forgiveness.

    Forgiving someone can be difficult. Of course it depends on what you are forgiving, but it’s still not easy.

    But what do you lose by forgiving and letting go of this grudge?

    In my life I’ve found that forgiveness can be exercised like a muscle. Small acts of forgiveness, like forgiving someone who cuts you off in traffic, help you become a more forgiving person. It’s liberating and brings healing to your soul.

    6. See the bigger picture.

    Think about the months or years you invested in this relationship, the good times you had together, the great things you found in this person. Is it worth it to harm the relationship because of a disagreement?

    How important is the issue in the bigger picture?

    Can you let go of the issue? Or, even better, sit together and try to reach an understanding? Hopefully that’ll be the case and you can move on and have a stronger friendship.

    My husband and I sat together and put our grudges into perspective. It turned out our problems were not worth the grief they were causing, so we decided to work together to fix them.

    After a disagreement, and once we have cooled off, we’d sit to discuss what had happened. We’d analyze what was said, what was implied, and what each had interpreted. We tried to stay as impartial as possible.

    I realized I was jumping to conclusions.

    We needed to work on our communication. I learned that I couldn’t count on him guessing what I needed. If I wanted him to do something, I needed to clearly ask for it.

    It was not easy for me to ask, I was not wired that way, but I saw that when I’d ask for help he would be glad to give it. With time I got better at it and months would go by without disagreements.

    We reaped great benefits from those conversations. And our marriage is stronger today.

    7. Ask if you’re willing to ruin your relationship over this.

    You’re hesitant to let go. You think that means accepting the other person’s point of view. You think that if you let go you are giving in.

    Not true.

    Your position doesn’t need to change, but you don’t need to ruin a relationship because of a disagreement.

    You just chose to let go. You acted on your best interest to protect your health and inner peace against feelings of anger that want to bring you down.

    Decide to Purge Anger from Your Mind

    Grudges are like toxic clutter invading your soul and stealing your happiness.

    Should you let them run wild?

    Bottled up grudges and anger can make you sad and depressed, and they can cause health problems. Are you willing to submit yourself to that?

    You can see that to let go of grudges is one smart, sensible, self-preserving decision away.

    So choose to end the pernicious cycle of holding grudges and regain your inner peace today.

  • Why Surrendering to Life is the Key to Positive Change

    Why Surrendering to Life is the Key to Positive Change

    “Surrender to what is. Say ‘yes’ to life and see how life suddenly starts working for you rather than against you.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    “Surrender” in current colloquial language equals failure. According to the Oxford Dictionary, without an object, surrender means to “stop resisting to an enemy or opponent and submit to their authority.” With an object, it gets even worse: “Give up or hand over (a person, right, or possession), typically on compulsion or demand.”

    How then can surrender be the key to joy?

    At age thirty, I was defeated by life. Down for the count. But, I did not get back up on my feet until I surrendered.

    I had led a charmed life until then. I got into every college to which I applied and went to my top choice. I graduated summa cum laude and got into a similarly impressive grad school, where I also graduated at the top of my class.

    After a White House internship, I landed a job at a top investment bank and had moved to an equally prestigious consulting firm. I had lived in and traveled to dozens of countries. I was a winner.

    Or was I? Life had thrown me a string of curveballs: health problems, friend problems, romantic problems, professional problems.

    While, to an outsider, I might have appeared to be “living the dream,” the “dream” entailed eighty-plus hour workweeks and constant travel. After a few years of this, my life had totally unraveled, and after knowing nothing but success, I encountered nothing but failure.

    The stress and over-work likely contributed to a string of illnesses, hospitalizations, and surgeries.

    I was exhausted after more than ten years of sleeping on average less than five hours a night, and my weight had yo-yoed drastically.

    My partner of three years had left me, telling me, to boot, that it was essentially never “a real thing” to begin with anyway. A second equally intense relationship ended in a similar way.

    All of this happened when I was living as far away from my hometown as you can get on the globe, and after being so busy for so long, I had almost no one to turn to where I was living. I was completely untethered.

    I just wanted it all to end, to make the pain go away. One day, I literally found myself on the floor with a bottle of pills in my hand, contemplating suicide. I almost followed through, but something happened, or actually, a lot of somethings did.

    One of the very first somethings that happened was that I became aware of the self-talk in my head and was able to disassociate from it, listening to it as a separate entity.

    Perhaps its most recurring commentary was some version of “this isn’t how it was supposed to happen.” I had achieved so much so early in life and worked so hard. I should have been rich. Happy. Successful. Instead, I was a mess.

    It was all these “shoulds” that almost killed me because they left me stuck in a mental construct of my own making, set up in opposition to what was actually happening.

    At the beginning of a long recovery process, perhaps the key moment came when I was able, however briefly at first, to occupy a reality without these shoulds and instead face whatever was at that particular moment.

    It was only later that I was able to grasp the significance of that first moment of surrender. Surrender is not giving up on life but giving up fighting with life. And, when you’re not fighting with it, you’re working with life.

    At first, our moral sense is offended by this. In a totally just world, there are a lot of things that should be. People should be nice to each other. Good things should happen to good people. But, if we take this to its logical conclusion, we’re all born innocent, so shouldn’t everyone just get what he or she wants? Shouldn’t only good things happen to everyone?

    Beyond the facts that what is “good” is often in the eye of the beholder, and the “goodness” of what appears to be a “bad” or painful or unfair event is often not revealed until later, all of these good things that should happen are far beyond our control.

    However, there are a lot of shoulds we can control. We can control our own actions and reactions (while of course allowing ourselves to err). We can act in this world how we should according to our own convictions.

    This is how surrendering, far from waving the white flag, becomes the ultimate tool for empowerment and positive action.

    When I was able to stop wallowing in the unfairness of what life dealt me and all of the shoulds that never came to be, my mind was free from the rumination and recrimination that led me into that deep state of depression.

    When I stopped fighting with my situation, my scope and options for positive action became clear, and at that point I was in full control of the little space in life that I actually could control—me.

    I stopped questioning the situation in which I found myself. Some of it was unfair, the result of what I took to be other people’s unjust actions, but at the same time, a lot of it was the result of my own actions, as well as pure chance. While I learned some lessons looking backward, the key to my recovery was accepting where I was and look forward to how to get myself out of it.

    My immediate action was to seek help, first from friends and then from a therapist, something I would have previously stigmatized as self-indulgent. Overcoming the shame of that opened the floodgates of what was possible for me, and everything was up for grabs.

    Within six months of that, I changed so many of the things that were not working for me—my job, my location and my relationships. I crafted a life that worked for me rather than fighting the one that wasn’t.

    By dropping the shoulds, I am now able, in my clear-thinking moments, to act without opposition from life and more quickly move to consider my course of action.

    Not only has this been emotionally liberating, but I know I have made countless better decisions as a result. Each day there are a thousand little victories, all thanks to surrender.

    The logic neat and simple, but the practice is difficult. I get confused and caught up and stuck, but the state of surrender is progressively becoming more and more of my natural default. Some of the lessons and tips I’ve learned to get to this place that I would recommend:

    1. Allow yourself to vent—up to a point.

    As imperfect beings, total, ongoing, and permanent surrender is unrealistic. We will feel negative emotions about experiences not meeting our expectations, and we need to allow ourselves to feel those feelings. It often helps to express them to a sympathetic ear. To a point.

    Venting of negative emotions is useful insofar as it allows us to liberate ourselves of them. However, prolonged or frequent venting can also lend momentum to these feelings. It can actually serve to build up opposition to life by hardening feelings of injury and strengthening those shoulds.

    So, pay attention to your venting. Is it releasing the negative energy around opposition to life, or is it adding to that energy? If you’re the one listening to the venting, ask yourself the same question of the person doing it. If the venting is adding to the negative energy of the situation, consider trying to divert that energy toward something positive and creative.

    2. Remind yourself that surrender is not giving up.

    At the beginning of this blog post I deliberately focused on the commonly used definition and connotations of surrender because of the strong biases language can impart on our subconscious thought.

    Prior to my own awakening, my brief forays into new age thinking and the new consciousness had always ended up with me dismissing it all as a bunch of hokey-ness that turned people into vegetables. If they were always just so accepting of what happened, how could they ever actually accomplish anything difficult or messy or complex?

    I still sometimes revert back to this thinking, but then I recall: surrender is not giving up on life but on fighting with life. Indeed, not surrendering to reality—questioning the fairness, goodness, or logic of the present moment—is crippling. You’re saying “no” to reality: “No, but that’s not fair! It’s not right!” Okay maybe that’s true, but where can you go from there?

    Surrender is saying “yes.” “Yes, I accept that this is a terrible situation, and the way I can make it better is…” This is how surrender becomes the key to taking positive action and frees us from so many of the negative emotions that we strengthen by opposing reality. We don’t say that what’s happening is okay, but we accept that it’s happening and move onto what we can do about it.

    3. Be the happy warrior.

    It’s something of an oxymoron, but the “happy warrior” tends to be more effective vs. the angry warrior, or, what we see more commonly, the person plodding along with grim determination. In fact, the war imagery probably misses the mark altogether, but we all can relate to the happy warrior type, so let’s stick with it.

    When we haven’t surrendered to reality and are still fighting it, negative emotions are inevitable, and we are, by definition, engaging in a futile endeavor. In this case, we become the angry warrior or the grimly determined one. That was me for so many years—I hunkered down, determined to endure all of life’s slings and arrows, all the while missing the joy of the journey.

    Maya Angelou once said, “What you’re supposed to do when you don’t like a thing is change it. If you can’t change it, change the way you think about it. Don’t complain.” If you’re still complaining or not accepting the reality, how can you change that reality? You’re probably still stuck in the complaining phase.

    That aura of negativity or hopelessness that comes with a failure to surrender is, to be blunt, a real turn off for most people. If you want to be the change you want to see in this world and inspire others to a cause, the angry warrior type is probably not going to work.

    This is vitally important in these times of so much social strife, and as fundamental questions of what kind of society we want to be arise every day. Eckhart Tolle has addressed this very point when talking about “angry peace activists” and agents of change.

    Think about some of the most socially impactful figures in the last 100 years—Martin Luther King Jr., the Dalai Lama, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, Mother Theresa—these are happy warriors.

    Their optimism was infectious in winning people to the cause, and this optimism stemmed from accepting reality as it was and moving on immediately to the “how do we change this?” phase. They began by surrendering.

    Remember the Buddha. While sitting beneath the tree of knowledge, he was able to turn all of Mara’s arrows into flowers and remain in a state of equanimity. In a sense, you too can do that by not turning the obstacles that life puts in your way into personal affronts against you.

    When you accept what life gives you—when you surrender—you avoid creating all of the negativity that rejection entails. You do not disrupt your own peace. From that place of peace, you can affect change.

    In my journey, I eventually wasn’t able to continue fighting life, brought down into depression by the impact of all of those arrows. Nowadays, I can’t say that I immediately accept all that comes my way, but my willingness to surrender to life, if not turning the arrows into flowers, certainly makes the journey more joyful.

    And, when you have joy, you are more likely to achieve the end you seek, or better yet, find peace in the journey regardless of the destination.

    It all starts with surrender.

  • How a Terrified, Socially Anxious Guy Became Relaxed and Confident

    How a Terrified, Socially Anxious Guy Became Relaxed and Confident

    “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing; the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” ~Viktor Frankl

    Life is hell… or so I thought for most of my thirty-four years.

    My intense social anxiety, an over-the-top and uncontrollable fear of people and social situations, ruined much of my young life. I operated completely alone, living only inside my own head, without even realizing it.

    Now, it’s rare that I’m too afraid to talk to anyone. And I face multiple difficult decisions, discussions, and even confrontations in any given week.

    Just a few years ago, a client could make what I would mistakenly take as an angry comment (even just by email), or someone could look at me funny, and I’d tailspin into a three-day episode of fear, shame, and self-hatred. I’d literally lose sleep over it. Every time an emotional breeze blew, I uprooted and fell over.

    But I no longer struggle like I used to. Similar situations sometimes cause mild anxiety, but often, none at all.

    This transformation surprises me as much as friends who’ve known me for my entire life. How did it happen? Why do I no longer turn every little social cue into a psychological catastrophe?

    I learned three lessons after decades of trial, error, failure, reloading, and trying again. At times, I was filled with hopelessness and despair. Occasionally, suicide appeared a viable way out.

    But somehow I mustered up just enough resolve to keep going. It made no sense that life should be filled with misery exclusively.

    I finally found what worked. Or maybe it found me.

    Here’s what I learned, and the actions I take to hold social anxiety at bay and keep my peace, confidence, and happiness today.

    1. Fear and anxiety always lie, and never serve your best interest.

    I can’t tell you how long I chose to trust and obey my fear of people. I never questioned it. I always assumed the anxiety and fear spoke the truth.

    Both had been present my whole life, after all. Fear and anxiety owned me. And I learned to sink my shoulders, lower my head, shuffle my feet, and do exactly what they said:

    • “Don’t talk to that person! They’ll reject you.”
    • “See the way they’re looking at you? They hate you.”
    • “Forget about asking anyone on a date. You’re a loser. They’ll say ‘no’ anyway.”
    • “You’ll miss the shot (in basketball). You’ll just be a failure. Everyone will laugh.”
    • “You’re stuck. You can’t get anywhere in life. You’ll never amount to anything.”
    • “You’re doomed to a bleak, lonely existence.”
    • “Don’t even try. You know how this ends anyway.”

    These thoughts kept me lonely, isolated, unemployed, and full of self-hatred.

    After years of trying different approaches, and sometimes even the same things, I finally asked myself, “What if everything fear told me was a big, fat lie? What if something different could happen?”

    I realized that my own mind told me the worst possible stuff. It lied outright. So, I learned not to accept my thoughts or feelings as reality.

    Eventually, I started doing exactly what fear told me not to do. At first, I rarely got the outcome I wanted. But slowly, I developed freedom from fear. More good things happened. And life got better.

    I felt more confident. Got married. Bought a house. And enjoyed my work.

    I didn’t think I’d ever have any of those things.

    Acting first, and letting the feelings follow (but not necessarily expecting that change immediately in the moment), works like a charm on fear.

    2. Happiness and confidence come from within, not from anything external.

    I got sucked in by society’s portrayal of happiness.

    Someone owns a massive house, and they seem to have it all. A quarterback tosses a touchdown pass to win the game, and they become an infallible superhero. James Bond always knows what to do and how to win the day.

    Though I didn’t realize it then, for a long time, I thought confidence and happiness came from all this… stuff. After I had one of those externals, I thought, I would feel happy, confident, and good about myself.

    So all my energy went toward pursuing these things. Sometimes ruthlessly, harming others along the way.

    I got a small taste on occasion. But it offered only fleeting happiness. None of it lasted, so I needed another thing from the list to feel happy and confident. And of course, that didn’t work either. On and on it went…

    Where do happiness and confidence come from? Things you can’t buy. Working on yourself.

    This has resulted in much more than just happiness and confidence. I now feel:

    • Satisfied
    • Fulfilled
    • Purposeful
    • Content
    • Grateful

    Compare this to how I felt before:

    • Hopeless
    • Filled with despair
    • Like a fraud/imposter/outsider
    • Guilty
    • Full of self-loathing
    • Regretful

    The comparison’s not even close, really.

    3. Regardless of the extreme power social anxiety has over you, you can become confident and happy.

    During high school and early college, my social anxiety was at its worst.

    I had plenty of excuses for not going to social events. I’d stay in on Friday and Saturday nights. Almost every interaction with a human being, and even just the anticipation of it, triggered shockwaves of social anxiety.

    Making a friend and having a real relationship with them? Not a chance.

    Instead, I’d drink too much at parties. Usually, I wouldn’t remember them. I didn’t want to because of the incredible stress they caused.

    And of course, drinking was really avoidance of intimacy. Long term, it actually increased my anxiety and desire to avoid real interactions with others.

    The more failure I met, the more anxious I became. And the more the social anxiety grew, the less I was able to meet people and make friends.

    Down and down I went, feeling empty and alone the whole way. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I make friends and hold down a job with ease, just like everyone else?

    How do you break that cycle?

    You do the opposite. Create an upward cycle instead. One that works like this:

    Forgiving myself for mistakes, and realizing when I do and don’t have responsibility

    In the past, I would constantly criticize and put myself down whenever things didn’t go “right” (read: my way). I mistakenly believed I had more responsibility for outcomes than I did.

    One time I bumped into a guy’s $100,000 car with a tire I needed fixed. He was screaming and cursing a blue streak at me. I plummeted into guilt and shame.

    These days, I’d take responsibility for the accident, but not for the other person’s feelings. It would be tempting to feel guilty and ashamed. But I could recognize that and share how I felt with someone I trust instead of telling myself how stupid I was.

    Today, I constantly forgive myself for mistakes of any kind, and I let outcomes be what they are.

    Challenging myself to speak up

    For example, let’s say someone disagreed with something I said. Before, I’d immediately get anxious and fearful, and likely wouldn’t stand up for myself.

    Now, instead, I’d pause and think. If I felt strongly about my opinion, I’d continue standing up for myself rather than going along with what the other person said. Nice confidence boost there.

    Or, if a customer service associate refused to offer a refund, socially anxious me would simply take it and go about my way. Now, I’d pause and think, and rather than give in to anxiety, ask to talk to a supervisor. Instead of feeling bad about myself, my confidence would go up.

    Loosening my grip on the things I think I have to have

    My social anxiety constantly wanted control. I had to have the girl, the job, the laugh, or whatever it was.

    I usually didn’t get those things because I was too afraid to try. Or, I did try, but acted from a place of fear and ended up making too many mistakes and chasing those things out of my life.

    I’d get too anxious at work, fearing that my boss would see my mistake. Then I’d second-guess myself, and make more silly mistakes because of that anxiety. Or I’d get too anxious to move a relationship forward, and the girl would pick up on that, then she was gone. If I wanted people to laugh, I’d get so anxious about needing that outcome that I’d forget the joke or say it awkwardly.

    Letting go of control and attachment to my desires has helped me feel more at ease, and far less anxious.

    Accepting what happens, without blaming myself or judging it as “good” or “bad”

    If I have a conversation with a potential client, and they don’t want to work with me, I try not to get upset with myself. My instinct is to feel guilty and ashamed, like I didn’t say the right things necessary to win the business (judging the situation as “bad”).

    Now, I say, ”Well, that didn’t work out. Let’s see. What happened?” Sometimes clients get busy doing other things. Some want to see what they can get from you for free. Other times, clients don’t get the budget they thought they would. And they might move on to another company.

    I accept that I don’t know why the prospect didn’t become a client. I learn from the situation what’s possible based on the evidence available, and let go of the rest.

    Correcting my wrongs with others

    Sometimes in the past, I avoided others. Or, I talked negatively behind their back. And in some cases, I got angry to their face.

    Now, when I fall into these old habits, I waste no time apologizing and doing everything I can to not repeat the wrong in the future. It helps with social anxiety because I have to go directly to the person, face-to-face.

    In cases where I talk negatively behind someone’s back, I correct the wrong with those who heard it instead of avoiding people. This rebuilds the relationship, which melts away social anxiety.

    Sharing the troublesome thoughts spinning around in my head

    The longer anxious thoughts spin around in your head, the more power they get. So today, I share them with people who understand and care. Not a single one has social anxiety, but they all want to see me heal.

    Not blaming others

    When things went wrong because of my social anxiety, like the two jobs I got fired from and the other I quit, I wanted to only look at what the employers did wrong. That didn’t help at all. So today, I look at my part in the situation, even if it’s just 1%.

    When I blame others, I do so because I’m too anxious and afraid to look at myself. I don’t want to experience the embarrassment of seeing what I did wrong. But how can I relieve my anxiety without looking at my own actions?

    When I look at what I did, and take positive action to correct it, I gain confidence because I’ve improved as a person. My struggle with my wrong weakens. Over time, it goes away completely.

    This allows me to take real action to improve my life. Blaming keeps me inactive, and a slave to the same old attitudes.

    Serving others in big and small ways

    I’ve adopted a lifestyle of service. Usually not big things, but I make myself available to help others out with personal problems, quick errands, or whatever it happens to be.

    At first, I served others just to get out of my negative social anxiety. That’s okay at first. With continued practice, you serve others mostly for their gain.

    Practicing self-awareness and working on my actions and reactions

    I don’t have a single tactic that works for fixing or improving other people. Life doesn’t work that way. So, I simply focus on improving myself daily.

    I have a list of thirty character defects. I’m capable of just about any wrong any human can commit, but generally I act on these thirty.

    When tempted to act on one, I pause for a moment and choose a positive action instead. I’ve not had one perfect day yet, but my internal life improves daily. And I feel increasing happiness and connectedness to others as a result.

    Discarding unhealthy mindsets: playing the victim, pitying myself, feeling entitled, or self-righteously judging others

    I played the victim because everyone else got the girlfriend, job, or car first. Because I was anxious and afraid to go for those things, they came much later in life for me than most people.

    Social anxiety caused me great fear, guilt, and shame. I didn’t get the external things when I thought I should, so I felt entitled to compensation for my suffering.

    I’d judge others because truthfully, I didn’t like myself. My self-esteem was through the floor, so I wanted to bring everyone down too.

    Unfortunately, this only increased social anxiety’s power over me because all of these choices kept me separate from others. So when these feelings come up now, I don’t act on them. I don’t even allow myself to think about them. I simply acknowledge their presence and move on.

    —

    My social anxiety wants to weigh me down like an anchor. And it can, if I don’t strictly adhere to the above list. But now, I live in a beautiful upward cycle that leads to happiness. Because these steps work.

    But it takes time to learn and put all this into practice. Sometimes decades.

    Hopefully learning from my experience shaves years of struggle off your growth and enables you to experience happiness, joy, and freedom—starting right now.

  • How I Forgave What I Couldn’t Forget

    How I Forgave What I Couldn’t Forget

    “Forgiving someone doesn’t mean that their behavior was ‘OK.’ What it does mean is that we’re ready to move on. To release the heavy weight. To shape our own life, on our terms, without any unnecessary burdens. Forgiveness is pure freedom—and forgiveness is a choice.” ~Dr. Suzanne Gelb

    I remember the feeling of blood rushing through my veins, my head pounding, and my heart beating faster. Every time I remembered what happened, I either cried or felt a wave of depression. This guy was someone who’d hurt me in a way that I never thought would happen. His deeds affected my family and me for years afterward.

    It was a complicated mess that he created, but he still managed to overtake the business we’d worked nearly twenty-five years to build. He took from us the ability to get back hundreds of thousands of dollars, some of which we’d been loaned against our home. He stole all this in a highly manipulative way.

    We met this man, a realtor, at my husband John’s parents’ auction. Since the house didn’t sell then, he was able to talk John’s parents into listing their house for sale with his small real estate company.

    Through this time we got to know him and his girlfriend, and shared a few visits with them. We went to their wedding, and he came to John’s dad’s funeral. Soon he and John started talking about how they could work on a big project together, since it involved investing, and more people would mean less money for each to put in.

    John, being a builder, would both invest and work on the construction of dozens of homes. Both the realtor and John would stand to make a good profit.

    The realtor never showed us the paperwork between the developer and the former owner, but he told us that the bank needed four lots as collateral for a loan for the land. We took a loan against our house for the lots, and also borrowed from John’s mom. It was an opportunity of a lifetime. What could go wrong?

    We were excited because this meant continuous work for quite a while, and John’s business stood to make a million or more within two to three years. Finally, we got the break we needed to make the business bigger.

    After investing much time and money, we began to worry about why the homes weren’t selling, and why the realtor always put off paying John.

    We decided to take a drive to the development. Maybe the realtor needed to hire new salespeople who could get something sold.

    While there, I looked at the table full of information on the choices of homes to build, the specs, and the info about the builder. I was shocked to see that the realtor had a new building company named on all the literature we’d provided. It was a building company the realtor had started himself.

    When we left the open house, John called our realtor friend. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation! We knew there was trouble, but we didn’t know to what extent.

    Our contract with the developer stipulated that we had to have sold a certain number of homes within a certain amount of time, or he had the right to hire a different builder. So the realtor just didn’t sell any homes for John to build because the realtor wanted to be the builder and the realtor in the development! We were asked to sign a release form so that our contract would be over.

    Sadly, our meetings with lawyers didn’t help us. The realtor had his assets in his wife’s name, so there was no money to get if we sued him. There were no houses sold. We thought we deserved at least a piece of future homes sold, but the developer’s and realtor’s lawyers simply said no.

    Our only option was to go to court. Our attorney estimated it would cost $30,000. and we would probably win. The downside was that the realtor could appeal the ruling. Then it would cost us another $30,000 to try to win again!

    If you remember, we’d borrowed against our house to invest in the lots, and we had no extra money because the realtor hadn’t paid John for a few months. We also had no work because John knew he would be devoting his time to this development. There was only one thing we could do: We signed the release and decided to move on.

    We could report him to the district attorney’s office. Hopefully, they would be able to prosecute him for the criminal acts he was doing. But there would be no money back for us, at least not for a long time.

    Since we had no work and a huge mortgage, which, amazingly, this realtor had found for us so we could buy the lots, we fell behind on our house payments. Thankfully, within a year John had found enough work to pay the mortgage, but if we fell behind again, our home would move directly into foreclosure.

    Looking back, we thought we were friends with the perpetrator. When we realized what he’d done and how he’d manipulated us to push us out of the project so he could benefit, we were furious!

    How does a person move ahead in their life when every day they experience something that is a direct result of something the perpetrator did?

    Even today, if I ran into him in public, I would avoid talking to him or even being in the same room. I wanted to forget what he did, but I realized that was impossible.

    I had the thought of hurting him back, physically, which was a thought I never had before. It scared me. But I knew it wouldn’t be worth the consequences.

    My husband also mentioned some unsavory ways of getting him back. But he also knew he couldn’t do that. I could understand how violence occurs in situations where the person who’s hurt can’t get the perpetrator out of their mind. It’s tough to forget! Am I right?

    John worked hard for three years with the hopes that an engineer we hired would be able to subdivide our land and sell a piece to lower our mortgage payment. We didn’t lose hope but pushed ahead. We weren’t quitters and we loved where we lived, so we did everything possible to keep our home.

    At the end of those three years, John was diagnosed with stage 3 throat cancer. He would be incapable of working for a year because of the intense treatment. I was not able to earn enough money to pay the mortgage.

    We had to move from our beloved home that we’d built and lived in for eighteen years. It was on thirty-two acres and held the memories of the time we spent there with our four children. We’d worked hard and put everything we had into the property.

    It was devastating to lose everything in our fifties! It was a big move backward, and I was overwhelmed at the thought of John being sick and leaving the home without his help.

    When you realize that you will never forget what someone did to you, you realize how enormous the job is going to be to forgive.

    There were many days that I had to push away the angry thoughts and tears. I had to work and be emotionally available for my kids. But somehow, eventually, I began to think of things in a different light.

    The struggle to give up hating someone for the pain they put you through is very intense. It is a battle deep within our very soul and minds.

    I had no answers for all the questions haunting me in my mind. Why was this guy so careless about negatively affecting the life of a whole family? How could he spend the energy it took to manipulate us to where he needed us to be so that he could pounce and move in for the steal? How could he sleep at night?

    Some people’s answer to forgiveness is that you just have to do it! We don’t want to live in hate purposely, but forgiveness takes time. If you deny the real feelings you have in order to forgive, just because it’s the right thing to do, your buried feelings could cause your emotions to backfire and come out differently later on.

    I moved ahead in my life, but not without feeling the pain and working through the emotions.

    Somehow I had to figure out how to move on. After all, everyone told me that I just needed to do it! Impossible? Could I forgive him and still dislike him?

    I struggled but somehow realized how to forgive. I had the thought one day that people don’t always understand the massiveness of influence and hurt they bring upon people. Plus, certain mental disorders cause people to not care about others. Only months or years of therapy can help this kind of illness.

    Even when we think someone doesn’t deserve mercy, could it be that they do? When I started thinking about why this man would deserve mercy, some of the following ideas came to mind.

    Maybe his family treated him badly when he was a child.

    Maybe he was taught how to scam people as part of his upbringing or influence from others.

    Maybe this person witnessed other adults thinking of themselves first, and he was just doing what seemed natural for him.

    Was he desperate for money?

    Did greed overtake him?

    Could he be mentally ill?

    Maybe he had never seen a single ray of true love and emotional well-being in his life. How sad is that?

    All these things are the sign of someone who is lost and not able to enjoy real peace in life. Did anyone ever genuinely care for him? Imagine what he has missed out on in his existence. Is he in bondage from adverse actions of those around him?

    We have no way of knowing why a person does what they choose to do. However, I believe there is a reason.

    I eventually realized, if I could let go of hating this person and what he did to me, by remembering the possible misery of his life, I’d be free from the very bondage that he was also in!

    It’s a vicious cycle, and I had the option to break it or continue in misery.

    I realized that I couldn’t live with myself, or love myself, as a person who couldn’t love others. And the kind of love for others may only seem like a tolerance at first, but it eventually goes deeper.

    I needed to open my eyes to the “why” of this person’s actions. If it was hate, jealousy, or selfishness, then I needed to be sad for that person who was unable to overcome those toxic feelings. That sadness for him is what enabled me to forgive and move on.

    However, forgiveness doesn’t mean I will never have negative thoughts or memories of him. I would have to remember why I wouldn’t remain angry toward him. I didn’t have to like him, spend time with him, tell him, or think of him. I needed to replace the bad memories in my mind with new plans and experiences for my future. It was a new way to live, and I had to accept it to get through it.

    I credit my husband for explaining it this way. When I would bring the situation up, he would say, “I’m finished with that, and I’ve moved on. That is in the past.” In other words, don’t let yourself keep repeating the experience in your mind over and over.

    Did you ever see loved ones of murder victims, for example, tell the murderer, “I forgive you?” I always wondered why in the world would they do that? But I think I get it now.

    We have to ask ourselves: Are we going to give this person the power to ruin our joy?

    We see the violence of unforgiveness all over our world today. When people hold on to the resentment, they get angrier until they eventually act out in some way. It can be deadly.

    We can hold on to the smallest things that family members and friends do and allow it to ruin the relationship. Maybe the person didn’t understand why they offended you. Maybe they were struggling with something you didn’t know about and were unable to be a better friend. Is it worth it? On our deathbed will we regret it?

    I don’t know about you, but I would like to be the person that says, “Hey, I’m not perfect, either. I forgive you.”

    So forgiveness is possible. The secret? Try to realize the sad state of mind that person was in when they hurt you.

    We are empowered when we are aware of the emotions that can get out of control and make us miserable. The emotions themselves are not wrong. When you feel something, it is real, and it should be acknowledged. But you need to let the anger go.

    I know I’m healthier, both physically and mentally, since I’ve learned to forgive this person and have moved on.

    My wish for you is that you take the time to work through your emotions and develop the ability to forgive others. We will always benefit when we let go of anger and embrace forgiveness. If enough people do this, our world will be a better place to live.

  • Rethinking What Really Matters: The Four Most Important Things in Life

    Rethinking What Really Matters: The Four Most Important Things in Life

    “Life is short. Focus on what matters and let go of what doesn’t.” ~Unknown

    Our most precious commodities are not our smartphones, 3D TVs, brand new cars, or even our big and impressive houses.

    Our most precious commodities can’t be found at the bank. They can’t be ordered online. The truth is, they are on a very short list.

    Amongst our most precious commodities are our purpose, time, health, and our relationships.

    How I Came to This Conclusion

    Several years ago I realized I was accumulating more in my life. More things that didn’t really matter to me or speak to me on a spiritual level. More commitments I wasn’t really passionate about keeping. This was all leaving me feeling a little flat and unfulfilled. It felt like something was missing, but I wasn’t sure what that something was.

    A period of fairly deep reflection followed. I then started to take some action based on this reflection. Amongst other things, that action has meant:

    • I have made good on long-term dreams to write creatively
    • I have realized I value freedom and flexibility over the ability to just earn more, and I now seek out ways of living accordingly.
    • I have accumulated fewer material possessions but enjoyed more (travel and holidays, events, life experiences).
    • I have concerned myself a whole lot less with the need to keep up with others (a toxic and empty competition if ever there was one).
    • I have set up my own micro-business so I have more control over what work and clients I say yes and no to.
    • I have met and married a partner in travel and adventure.
    • I have embraced aspects of simplicity, 80/20, and other powerful concepts into my life.

    The upshot of these and other changes has been that the quality of my life has improved significantly. I certainly don’t have everything figured out (spoiler: no one does!), but my compass in life is much more in tune with somewhere I actually want to get to now.

    Alongside this period of internal reflection, I started to question lots about life.

    I started to weigh what I thought I wanted with what I actually wanted. I started to question what I was really seeking. Whether I was on a path that would get me there. Whether I had people in my life that could support me emotionally along the way. I started to question what it was to be successful and fully explore my own definition of it, not just follow a second-hand version.

    I also started to question whether what I thought was important in life was really important at all. I reframed my life and came to the conclusion that there are several areas, commodities if you will, that are vitally important to how we feel, that need careful attention.

    This is what led me to the realization that our purpose, time, health, and relationships are amongst our most precious commodities. Such a simple and obvious realization, you may protest. Well, if that’s the case, how is it that we let these suffer so frequently?

    Purpose

    Purpose is our why. It drives our actions. It fuels our passion. It encompasses our work, our relationships, and our approach to living our lives. It wraps around everything we do. It means living our lives in an intentional way. It gives our lives a sharper focus.

    Our why is what keeps us going when life gets tough.

    Our why gives life extra meaning and richness.

    If we’ve lost our way and are struggling with our why, we can ask ourselves several related questions:

    • Where am I’m trying to get to?
    • What lights me up and gets me excited?
    • What’s my reason for getting up in the mornings?
    • What do I want more of in my life?
    • What do I want less of in my life?

    The answers to these questions can be revealing and can lead us back to the core of what really matters most to us. Listen to these answers and use them as a guiding light. Revisit them often

    Time

    We all have the same number of hours in our day. Why do some of us run around, constantly stressed, complaining we “don’t have time,” while others seem to approach life in a relaxed and happy state but still get plenty done?

    Though we all have responsibilities and obligations, this often comes down to choices.

    Many of us make poor exchanges on our time on a daily basis. Each time we say yes to something, we are effectively saying no to something else. The problem is, we often say yes to too much. This is where a balance starts to tip.

    Instead of feeling in control of our calendar, our time is all accounted for. We rush from this commitment to that, never really feeling like we’re truly present at any of them. We squeeze evermore into our days but feel we have less and less time to do the things we really want to do, or see the people we want to see. We have less space left for ourselves.

    Time is a finite resource; once spent, it’s gone. We can’t get time back, but we can be selective and intentional with the time we have.

    We can take control by saying yes to less and appreciating the white space in our diary. We can protect our precious time for the activities and people that give our lives the most meaning and joy.

    Of course, reclaiming your time isn’t always this simple. Some of us are working several demanding jobs in order to pay the most basic of bills. Maybe we are bringing up a young family, caring for aging parents, or perhaps looking after a loved one who has physical or mental health challenges.

    Finding time for anything in these scenarios can be especially tough. Even if we do have time, we feel a heavy sense of guilt if we spend it doing something for ourselves, because it seems selfish. Besides, exhaustion can hit us right when we have these small windows of time, and sleep or the TV may beckon.

    If we’re limited in this way, a good start is to find small pockets of time to invest in our passion projects, our hobbies, and ourselves. Five minutes here, half an hour there can add up over a period of time.

    Though we may be caregivers or breadwinners for others, we need to remember to care for ourselves along the way. We can do this without neglecting our responsibilities. In fact, the more we can look after our own well-being, the better equipped we are to be of service to others.

    Another step that we can take is to try to change our situation. Maybe we can work closer to home or look to simplify and reduce our bills, and perhaps even work a little less. In the case of loved ones with challenges, maybe we haven’t exhausted our options in terms of additional help (from friends, family, or care groups).

    These are all tough and very real challenges some of us face, and I will not make light of them here. All any of us can do is look to make the very best of our situations and be grateful for what we have instead of focusing on what we don’t have. Sometimes we need a little outside support from others to help us along. Where there is a will, there can be a way.

    Health

    So many of us take our health for granted until we have a reason not to.

    We neglect exercise and then wonder why our bodies complain when we need to climb a flight of stairs. We neglect our diet and then wonder when all this extra weight crept up on us. We neglect our mental health and then wonder why we’re always stressed.

    We can be kinder on ourselves. We can add regular movement to our lives. Walking, the gym, bodyweight exercises, yoga—it all counts and can all be mixed up. Our bodies are made to move, not sit humped over laptops or in front of TVs all day. Embrace the ability to move.

    Eating healthily can also be simple and enjoyable. We can base most of what we eat on plants (fruits and vegetables). If we eat meat, we can treat it like a side dish and ensure most of the rest of our plates are filled with a rainbow of vegetables. No foods need be off limits, and we can still make space for the odd discretion. Healthy eating can and should be delicious eating, and should never feel like drudgery.

    Being outside more, eating well, and making time to decompress can all help our mental health and general feelings of well-being. We can be gentler with ourselves by ensuring we make time to reset occasionally.

    Regular check-ups with our doctors can help pick up the early signs of anything nasty, but we can also do our best to make the most of what we have by trying our best to look after ourselves.

    Relationships

    Our modern obsession with being busy leads many of us to feel we don’t have enough time in our days. This is a particularly sorry state of affairs when it means we “don’t have time” for our relationships.

    The truth is, all this busyness just might be something we have had a hand in creating. This may not be welcome news, but it does mean we can also step back from it and live another way.

    Our friends, family, and loved ones are what really add spark to our lives. We need to make the time to foster these relationships. Being busy is fine, if we’re busy with the things and people that mean the most to us.

    Our relationships are our bedrock, our foundation. We need to nurture them with the love and attention they really deserve.

    Purpose, time, health, and loved ones. These are truly the things that make us richer and make life more complete. Let’s treat them accordingly.

  • Slow Down, Simplify, Clear Your Mind, and You’ll Get Better Results

    Slow Down, Simplify, Clear Your Mind, and You’ll Get Better Results

    “The real you, the inner you, is pure, very pure. It understands. It has patience. It will wait forever while your ego trots all over everywhere trying to figure life out.” ~Stuart Wilde

    There’s a common myth I think we all fall prey to: If something is important, it has to be complicated.

    Surely, if what we want is easy—be it a business venture or a happier life—then everyone would be going for it, wouldn’t they?

    Well, yes, in a way. But I’ve found that while the road to success and happiness isn’t always smooth sailing, it’s usually us who overcomplicate matters.

    When we learn to get out of our own way, we might actually get the results we want a whole lot faster.

    Slowing Down to Speed Up

    You see, I’ve been aware of this idea of creating space, slowing down, and simplifying for a long time, but it’s only recently that I’ve fully grasped what it’s all about from a deeper level of understanding.

    Growing up I was quite a creative soul, and as I moved into my teenage years, I began to write songs. It was then that I was first introduced to this idea of simplicity of both form and message.

    A teacher once told me that it wasn’t the notes you played that made the music special; it was the space between the notes. The beauty was in what you didn’t play.

    At the time I kind of understood what he meant, but more on an intellectual level than insightfully.

    I always felt I had to learn more, to put more notes and more ideas into the music I made. So I’d layer more guitars, buy new keyboards, put in whatever I could find to make it feel bigger, more accomplished.

    What I now know, of course, is that all I was doing was muddying the waters. This perhaps was why my musical career never took off in the way I wanted. Similarly, a few years after, I turned to another passion of mine and started acting. Again, I did okay by and large. I got myself an agent, did some short films, a few plays, a tour.

    But again, faced with fear, uncertainty, and doubt, I wobbled. I wrongly thought I needed more techniques—that, if I had more theory at my disposal, I’d never have to deal with the insecurity that came from exposing the real me.

    I steadily found myself overcomplicating my craft. One more course, one more book on acting, and I’d become the actor I could be.

    I trained and I read and I watched master classes until my head swam with so many different ideas that I eventually forgot the only real important part: to be present and connected with the other actor in front of me.

    Releasing Control Doesn’t Mean You Don’t Try

    In both these cases I found myself overcomplicating everything so much that it stopped being fun. I was trying to control something that never was meant to be controlled.

    The worst part of all this was that, intellectually speaking at least, I knew this. I knew that simplicity was the key to creating anything good in the world.

    When something is stripped down, pure and totally authentic, it cannot help but be rich with energy, spirit, and truth.

    I knew this, but I think back then I only knew it in my head, not in my heart. I wasn’t confident enough to trust in it. In a way, complicating things felt safer because it tricked me into thinking I was being productive while taking the focus off my own insecurities and vulnerability,

    And I think this is where a lot of us can struggle.

    We overcomplicate things because doing so takes the attention away from the root of who we are.

    We’re scared of sitting quietly with ourselves, so we do everything we can to keep the lights on and the dance floor full.

    We worry that if we let go of our habitual, insecure thinking, we might not like what we find in those quiet moments.

    Yet these quiet moments are actually the times when we can allow real progress to be made.

    When our minds are clear and we’re connected with who we are—before all the thinking and stories and beliefs we’ve piled on top of ourselves since birth—we are more resourceful and resilient than we might ever give ourselves credit for.

    We don’t ever need to think ourselves into getting better results; we just need to trust that our innate wisdom is always there if we slow down and connect with it.

    As Lao Tzu wrote, we turn clay to make a vessel, but it is in the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the vessel depends.

    I think this is apparent more and more in this modern world, where we all willingly plug ourselves into the matrix.

    If we never slow down and get off the hamster wheel, we can avoid the emptiness we expect is waiting for us.

    Yet, this is an unfounded fear.

    Sure, it might seem that simplifying our lives and our experiences will leave us devoid of fun.

    It might appear that surrendering to the present moment will take us further away from the life we want.

    We might believe that unless we keep latched on to our thinking, we can’t possibly get to where we’re going.

    Yet, in reality, the space we allow to open up when we slow down and simplify actually fills up pretty quickly.

    And, instead of that cold, unforgiving abyss, what actually comes flooding in is love and resilience. And with it, a clarity of mind that promotes insight and high performance.

    In allowing ourselves this space, we access infinitely better results than if we stayed stuck in our heads, overcomplicating our lives with stressful thinking.

    I’m not suggesting we all just tune out of life and bury our heads in the sand. I’m suggesting that when we ground ourselves in the realization that insecure thinking never gets us what we want, we can then move forward with a much stronger footing.

    Overcomplicating matters never works well for us, whether writing music, acting, or figuring out what to do next in life.

    When we drop out of our thinking and connect to ourselves and the present moment, the answer often shows itself to us. Why? Because we’ve given it the space to appear.

    Without that space, all we have is the same old thoughts and ideas cluttering up our heads.

    These ideas haven’t served us well in the past, so why do we think we’ll find the answers there now?

    As Einstein wrote, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

    I used to believe that if I wanted to achieve something, or if I had a problem I had to solve, the only way I’d get there was to go up in my head and think my way to a solution.

    But this too was just a symptom of overcomplicating matters—a fear of surrendering to what is.

    As I’ve traveled further on my journey of self-awareness, I’ve come to understand the true inside-out nature of how life works. I recognize more and more how the old way of being never helped me, and that when we give ourselves space and clarity of thought, we allow new ideas to form.

    Whether we’re stressed, anxious, or trying to work out how best to achieve what we want, the less we have on our mind, the better life gets.

    So if we are learning to move away from thinking our way to solutions, what do we do instead?

    We slow down. We take away.

    The beauty of these concepts is that we don’t have to learn lots of new techniques to get the results we want. It’s not about adding things but simply stripping away all the stuff that inhibits us.

    Trust that going up into your head and doing loads of that really, really good thinking only really takes you out of the present moment.

    Usually in these moments you’ll be imagining a past that you think is warning you of something or a future event that scares you from moving forward. But the operative word here is “imagining.” These experiences aren’t real. Yes, it’s very easy to think your feelings about them are telling you something. They never are. You are only ever feeling your thinking in the present moment.

    When you become fully aware of this, you quickly reconnect with yourself and fall back into reality, where insights can happen and you can take action.

    To better help with this understanding and create a space for insight to happen, I find it helps to get away from distractions strategically throughout the day. Go for a walk in nature, book some quiet time with yourself for reflection, and actively disconnect from your emails and phone for an hour or so.

    Little acts like this create exponential results when you allow yourself the space and clarity to fully connect with yourself and the world.

    When we’re calmer and more relaxed, everything comes a lot more easily. By creating a peaceful, quiet space around us, we allow our innate wisdom and well-being to come to the surface.

    This is who you are before the world put all the thoughts and worries and stories on you.

    This is you, uncomplicated, unencumbered.

    Pure, elegant, resourceful.

    Think about it; did you ever really get any great ideas or solve any major problems when you were stressed, stuck in your head, and anxious? Don’t you usually get your best ideas when you’re calm, clear-headed, and relaxed? Perhaps in the shower or when out walking?

    Life was never meant to be a struggle.

    If I’d known this earlier, maybe I’d have been a more successful songwriter or a better actor. Yet, I wouldn’t change anything about my journey, and with these new insights I have no desire to be anywhere else than where I am: here. In the moment. Connected.

    The bottom line is simple: learn to trust that when your head is clear of thoughts, this isn’t you not trying; this is exactly the right condition to allow new insights and ideas to appear.

    With this new understanding, you free yourself up to fully connect with who you really are.

    You are free to play music, act, or do whatever you see fit, from a place of simplified ease. You surrender any ego-driven desire and enjoy your present reality.

    Letting yourself go and really trusting in that stillness will take courage, but when you do, I think you’ll find that life suddenly feels a whole lot richer and less complicated in the best possible way.

  • Take the Leap: Reinvent Yourself and Be Who You Want to Be

    Take the Leap: Reinvent Yourself and Be Who You Want to Be

    “The only thing that punk rock should ever really mean is not sitting around and waiting for the lights to go green.” ~Frank Turner

    I was exactly where I should have been on the afternoon I jumped. I was four years post-undergrad at an elite private college, halfway through a Masters Degree from the nation’s top Social Work program, about to begin an internship, and working three public service jobs simultaneously. My boyfriend had just moved into my apartment, and the feeling of being “settled” was just starting to sink in.

    The remaining challenge of adulthood, it seemed, would be finding the energy to keep working seven days a week on no sleep, maintaining each job so the humble salary of any single one wouldn’t become my sole source of income.

    It seemed fair to me. But moreover, it seemed normal. My father had driven to work at 4:00am my entire life, only returning at dinnertime to retreat to his home office and get started on his other work—the stuff that really paid the bills. Now that I was in my twenties it felt appropriate, mature even, to grind away the day and night and wear sleeplessness with pride.

    The “nobility” of my work in foster care added an even deeper sense of meaning. I felt my own self-worth balloon in relation to how many families I visited each week, how many ice cream cones I bought for abandoned kids, and how many miles I put on my car. It seemed to be filling some empty space in me.

    On some days, when I wasn’t listening to audio courses or dictating homework into my phone on the way to work, I would play a favorite punk album and sink into memory: epic sing-a-longs in dark rooms with my favorite bands and sweaty strangers.

    I’d remember the thrill of wandering Berkeley, California (my heart home) at night, pen in hand, and letting the poetry flood through me. I’d feel the thrill of sharing my words with other artists, talking free verse and Tom Waits and chapbook titles.

    But that was rare. I had grown up.

    Like most who plunge full-hearted into social services, my passion had formed as a direct response to a lifelong series of personal sh*t-storms, and my mission was to learn how to use my experiences to help others.

    And here I was, doing it, making the difference. By twenty-five I had built an unmistakable identity. Ambitious and tough, I was proud that my accomplishments in addition to my exterior image (despite my 5’2”/100 lb. stature) spoke of tenacity, unexpected power, and passion.

    Except at night I watched my boyfriend’s band practice and something bubbled under the surface, making my throat ache and my fists clench anxiously. At work I’d talk to clients about the importance of holistic health, drawing out their Life Circle and stressing the importance of following your bliss and all that new-age crap. I’d smile and shake hands and say things like, “If it doesn’t make you happy, don’t do it.”

    And I’d feel like a fraud.

    I was always, always, always in helper mode, but I was tired and numb. I longed just to find a sunny spot and read a book. 

    If you’re a helper, a healer, or a big-hearted person by nature, you know this ride, the push and pull of every daily interaction. An immediate clinical assessment, the five-minute inventory of a total stranger’s strengths and needs, and the “simple” things you can and must do to help them, make them smile, save them.

    Go to the grocery store and repeat. Go to your second and third job and ask what else you can do for the team. Go home and make dinner. Chip away at the text-stream, put out fires, offer condolences, advice, and both ears. Try to read five pages of a new self-help book before falling asleep on the couch, spent.

    Unchecked, it’s easy to live and die this way.

    So when I reached the top of the rock cliff forty feet above the calm blue quarry, I wasn’t expecting the invisible force that pulled me forward, though I should have been—my rebellious spirit had been waiting for the right moment to rescue me.

    To this day, the line between accident and intention is blurry. I had scaled the same precipice many times before, watching from the grassy patches as others ran and leapt and landed feet-first in the water with glee. My deep phobia of water was powerful, though, and I was always happy to climb back down the rocky slope to meet my friends at the shore.

    But this time was different; I was begging for an alternate ending. It wasn’t that I was knowingly asking for death, or even feeling particularly self-destructive. It was more like a deep internal urgency had hitched itself to the late summer air, and all at once, I knew I was supposed to take the plunge, to surrender myself to gravity, to water and earth.

    It was a sunny September day and my man was waiting in the water below.

    I wasn’t thinking about my lifelong fear of drowning, or my work cell phone, which was definitely ringing incessantly in the car a few miles back through the woods. I wasn’t thinking of anything. But my heart was pounding up my throat. My hands were sweating, and every time I revved myself up to make the short run to the edge, my stomach dropped and my feet felt stuck in mud.

    For the final minute on top of that cliff I felt the weight of my entire life—the straight A’s, the career ladder, the desperate drive to please my parents, the pressure, the self-denial—holding me in place. Still, sirens were ringing in my head and something wild was screaming, begging me to move.

    I took one last shaking breath, willed my right foot forward, then my left, pushed my black Vans off the edge, and leapt into empty air. 

    In order to land safely in the quarry, a diver must maintain perfect aim and balance, remaining upright so the impact of twelve feet of water is absorbed through the feet. Instead, closing my eyes and curling instinctively into fetal position, I hit the water face first. The impact shattered the bones in my face, causing my eye to break through the socket—muscles trapped in fissures, vision lost, reality gone.

    The last thing I remember from my first life is the feeling of a heated blanket in a dark hospital room. The neck brace made it hard to breathe and harder to gag each time I felt like puking from the pain.

    Paul, my man, my motivator, and my guardian angel, sat beside me in a metal folding chair for hours. When the painkillers finally took over and I sunk into oblivion, the feeling came rushing and brought tears to my eyes—stillness, relief, ecstasy. I whispered to Paul, though probably only in my mind, “Thank you for killing me.”

    It was a sweet farewell from my first self, and a grateful nod from a new me.

    The intensive recovery process prohibited work of any kind. In a novel medical approach the surgeon inflated a balloon within my sinus cavity, reconstructing my face and ensuring my vision could return to normal. But the delicate procedure deemed most normal daily functions dangerous, if not impossible. Worse, the hardcore regimen of painkillers and antibiotics left me covered in hives, photosensitive, exhausted, and constantly nauseous. But internally I was giddy, on fire, new.

    In a blur of exhilaration and terror, I was forced to stand still. To examine my swollen face and black eyes every morning and decide how to spend each day. I was an infant again. I was Dobby holding a sock—shocked, ecstatic, but unsure where to start.

    So I found a sunny spot and read a book.

    And every day, while the world worked and worried and wondered about identity and success and all the other mental prisons I was used to, I drove to cafes with comfy couches and read. And I wrote. And I contacted venues and bands to set up shows and I listened to all my old favorite albums.

    I found a cute little house outside of Woodstock for my boyfriend and me to feel like ourselves. We hung up all my posters from bands I grew up on and had friends over whenever we could, just to sit still, and talk, and feel.

    My internship was filled by another MSW student, and my grad school granted me a leave of absence. My foster care caseload was divided among my coworkers. By force, I was freed.

    That year I began therapy with a psychologist who not only helped me safely explore my past traumas, but also guided me into my second life with compassion and empowerment. I read and read and read, and the words poured back out of me.

    In the spring I decided to drop out of grad school for good, feeling confident in my own abilities as a social worker and student. In the process I was able to shed the borrowed beliefs that had led me to max out student loans and wear down my true self in pursuit of institutionalized validation. My life itself was suddenly enough.

    When I was able to return to work, I kept my full-time job in foster care and quit the rest. My coworkers whispered about “brain injury” and wondered if I was permanently messed up. But I gave myself permission to sit still and to call my own shots. I negotiated a flexible schedule and worked on publishing poems and building a creative business that made me feel alive, but more importantly, like myself.

    I don’t recommend jumping off a forty-foot cliff in the height of your professional climb. But I beg you—yes you, exhausted social worker, stressed out salesperson, dejected teacher, grown up punk, secret poet—to give yourself permission to pause.

    Question who you’re living for, who you work for every day. Question your values; are they really yours? Deconstruct your identity. Have you been carrying the same stories about yourself for decades (“I’m the hard worker, the overachiever, the struggling professional”)?

    Are you making a difference in the way that only you can? What will it take for you to push pause? Reset?

    Who would emerge if you killed your current self?

    Liberation looks different to everyone, and it’s always evolving.

    I still have a day job. My rent checks still occasionally bounce. My parents will forever be disappointed that I’m not a famous journalist or whatever by now. I still get rejection letters from publishers, and I have bouts of paralyzing depression… But there’s a different kind of dignity and drive that’s born when you take your life back from Default Mode, when you declare your own Red Light Moment and stop, then step back to take inventory.

    When your life belongs to you alone, every struggle has a purpose and every triumph is yours to celebrate. Being able to use my innate gifts to do work that fires me up, automatically multiplies my impact on the world. The same goes for you.

    What’s the thing you excel at without trying? Start there. Pretend the light has just gone green.

    Then take the leap. Listen to the wild voice that whispers to you, and trust the motion it compels.

    Chances are, you’ll land on your feet and someone will be there to guide you back to shore. But if you find yourself pummeling toward “death,” embrace it. Let your old self die along with the dogma and pressures that have worked on your tired soul all these years. If you want it, there’s a whole new world, and a better you, waiting on the other side.

    Then, curate your new life—ditch the jobs that suck your soul out through bloodshot eyeballs and forced smile. Purge the toxic relationships even if it means drawing a thick and terrifying line in the sand before close family and friends. It’s scary and most people will warn against this type of “recklessness.”

    Just don’t neglect to fill the void. Fill it with art and music or podcasts on self-improvement or long late-night talks with people you admire.

    If you can’t find the scene you’re looking for, make it. If you’re aching for more, build it. If you find yourself ready and waiting for the moment, it’s already here. Jump.

    *Disclaimer: Neither Tiny Buddha nor the author is advocating physically harming yourself to facilitate your personal evolution. The message is about embracing your truth and choosing to be reborn, not risking your life.

  • Three Unexpected, Life-Changing Lessons I Learned at a Silent Retreat

    Three Unexpected, Life-Changing Lessons I Learned at a Silent Retreat

    “Every moment is a choice to begin again.” ~Unknown

    By day three of the five-day silent retreat I found myself wondering, “Why did I do this again?”

    The pain of sitting in lotus position for eight hours a day was testing my patience. I was frustrated that my mind would only be still for a few moments, before interrupting itself with commentary on the fact that my mind was still, and I wasn’t feeling any spiritual awakening—although not being a particularly “spiritual” person, this wasn’t entirely surprising

    So why had I decided to go on a silent retreat in the first place? I had wanted to experience meditation without distraction and to take my practice to another level.

    Going into the silent retreat, I had worries and questions circling: Will the silence be tedious? What will the other people be like? Are the teachers going to be cult-like leaders? Will I uncover some past trauma buried away deep inside?

    Of course, of the things I worried about, none of them came true. Instead, what I found challenging and what I learned the most from were things that I hadn’t even considered: desire, expectations, and judgment.

    Desire

    If you’ve ever wondered what drives your behavior, you can thank the power of desire for that. And you certainly learn a lot about desire when you’re at a silent retreat.

    Silent retreats are set up so that you never need to verbally communicate, which means that almost every minute of the day is scheduled for you, all your meals are prepared, and all external stimulation is removed. This creates a perfect storm for your desire to run wild, fantasizing about all the things you can’t have or do.

    I never noticed how much I’m driven by desire until I spent a significant portion of the retreat daydreaming about different foods I wanted to eat. By day three I was writing lists of foods I was going to eat when I finally was “free” again.

    I didn’t understand why I felt so compelled to do this until our evening teachings the following night, when I realized it was because I was struggling with desire.

    That night we learned that what we’re often really craving is not the thing that we desire, but the reprieve we feel once we have relieved ourselves from the yearning of desire. This realization actually freed me from my wants, and allowed me to instead laugh at the simplicity of my humanness and my clear love of rice paper rolls.

    It also made me realize that when we’re able to see what’s driving us, we have the space to observe our experience and choose how we respond, rather than being at the mercy of invisible desires. Instead, we’re able to consider what it is we really need, rather than simply what we want in that moment.

    Since the retreat, I’ve been more mindful of when desire is driving me and it’s certainly helped my bank account, particularly when I’m having a moment where I think, “I just need these shoes” without really knowing why I “need them” so much.

    Not that there’s anything wrong with buying shoes, but I’ve been able to see more clearly when my desire to buy shoes is coming from a place of wanting to feel better about myself, when I want to feel like I’m keeping up with others, or when I want other people to think I’m cool.

    I’ve come to realize that while buying shoes might make me feel good in the moment, it isn’t going to build the foundations of lasting self-confidence.

    Instead, I now find it much easier to pause and acknowledge, “Aha, this is just desire” and recognize that really, I have enough and I don’t need things to be enough.

    Expectations

    I’ve always known that having really set expectations can cause all sorts of problems, but the experience of the silent retreat cemented this for me.

    My biggest problem was that I expected my meditation practice to somehow transform itself into something other than what it currently was. Of course, setting this expectation didn’t mean that my meditation practice changed at all; instead, it just left me feeling frustrated that I wasn’t experiencing something different. Ironically, meditation is all about experiencing whatever arises in that moment.

    I didn’t even know what it was that I expecting to change. But I learned that when we’re searching for something, we’re blinded by the act of searching, and we miss the subtle changes that are unfolding before us. It’s often not until we let go of what we think should be changing that we can really notice and appreciate what has changed.

    I also came to realize that expectations can really cause a lot of suffering. Now, looking back, I recognize that my expectations took me away from the beautiful sounds of the Balinese jungle, from the stillness that was there, and the joy of simply being.

    When I let go of my expectations, not only did I start enjoying meditation more, I realized how powerful it could be to let go of expectations.

    Despite having this realization, I’m still constantly surprised at how often my expectations get in the way of me being able to live peacefully. I often find myself expecting friends to behave in certain ways, and when they don’t, I feel deeply disappointed. But really, there’s no reason for me to expect them to behave differently, as they are simply engaging in the same behaviors that they have over the past fifteen years.

    What I’ve taken from this is that the solution isn’t to disregard expectations, but to be mindful that your expectations aren’t too far removed from reality. I’ve found looking at the facts of a situation helpful in managing my expectations and instead, delighting in the unexpected.

    Judgment

    No matter how much we try not to be, we’re naturally judgmental. And I know this cannot be changed, but what I really noticed on retreat was the effect it had on my mind and my body, and how different my experience could be if I practiced letting go of judgment.

    One evening I found myself really judging another girl for using social media while at the retreat. We had been asked to not make any contact with the outside world, and this of course included no use of social media.

    At the time, I assumed that her use of social suggested that she wasn’t taking the retreat seriously. As these judgments raced through my mind, I noticed how much my body tensed up, how irritated I felt, and I could almost feel my mind narrowing as I focused on how their behavior was “wrong.”

    Yet, when I opened myself up and tried to accept her behavior, I was freed from my own prison of judgment. When I allowed myself to be curious rather then judgmental, the experience transformed for me.

    Instead of feeling irritated by her and closed off, I instead felt open and compassionate, and frankly just a lot less bothered by her. Being open and curious allowed me to move on and let go, relieving the discomfort of being judgmental.

    It certainly wasn’t an easy thing to do, and I had to remind myself time and time again to keep opening, but the felt difference between the two was unbelievable. It was actually much more physically and emotionally pleasant being non-judgmental than being judgmental.

    I really noticed this for myself when I was back in New York, sitting in a Broadway show. I caught myself totally distracted by the judgmental commentary happening in my head. It was the same old story, comparing my body to those of the performers, and my poor old thighs were the victims of my self-criticism yet again.

    When I noticed how deeply I was caught up in worrying about the size of my thighs, I decided it was a good moment to practice what I had learned on retreat. I started saying to myself over and over, “Let go, be present.”

    It was such a relief to allow myself to let go of judgment, and instead I was open to connect with feelings of joy as I started clapping along to the songs with the rest of the crowd. Not only this, letting go of the judgment allowed me to be more accepting and compassionate towards myself.

    So all in all, while my meditation practice didn’t change as I expected it to, I certainly learned a lot on the silent retreat and took a lot away with me, all which was delightfully unexpected.

    My three takeaways were that:

    1. Desire is just a creation of our mind that we don’t need to follow. In fact, just acknowledging it can relieve us from the power of our desire.

    2. Letting go of expectations allows us to be present and enjoy what is already here.

    3. Being open and curious frees us from judgment, allowing us to be accepting and compassionate toward others, and ourselves.