Tiny Buddha

Category: letting go

  • When Your Struggle Has Become Your Identity: How to Rediscover Yourself

    When Your Struggle Has Become Your Identity: How to Rediscover Yourself

    Lonely Girl

    “It ain’t what they call you. It’s what you answer to.” ~W.C. Fields

    For much of my life, I have struggled against the after effects of unresolved childhood trauma.

    For years, I didn’t even know how much of an issue it was. I thought it was completely normal to expect the worst or avoid intimacy like the plague.

    When I finally dragged myself into a therapist’s office and was diagnosed with “significant, complex trauma,” I initially felt free.

    And I admit, it was freeing. I now knew that this “thing” that I had been dealing with my entire life wasn’t just the result of me being “broken” or “born that way,” but it was a significant, understandable, and more importantly treatable response to a less than ideal childhood.

    I was flying high for a while as I attempted to recover with every type of self-help trick out there.

    But then came the fog. Somewhere in the mix I began to break down as I realized the true impact of what my therapist had told me. My entire identity up until that point in my life had been formed around that trauma. I didn’t know who I was without it.

    What did I like to do in my free time? What did I like eating? What was my favorite color, even? Was I funny, or was I more serious? As it turned out I had a lot to learn about myself, and I was going to have to start from scratch.

    I wish I could speak to you from atop a mountain of wisdom, but I can’t. I’m still in the process of figuring it all out. But there are a few things that have helped me remain strong and encouraged through the entire process.

    Release the struggle.

    This is, of course, easier said than done, but it is one of the most important parts of making peace with your past and untangling the trauma.

    The identity and narrative that was forced upon me was one of defeat and self-hate. I stuck to the narrative because that’s all I knew. I might as well have been introducing myself as “the girl whose parents don’t love her,” and “the girl who has failed to secure any meaningful, intimate relationships.”

    Realize, as I did, that the narrative is not yours. It is not your name. It is not what you have to answer to. There’s more to you. So much more. How are you going to start introducing yourself?

    Start from a place you know.

    For many of us—myself included—the onset of trauma was at a very early age, and it can be scary to try and delve into that. But “starting from a place you know” doesn’t necessarily mean the beginning of your life. It simply means picking a place to make your beginning.

    It could be the first time you remember laughing out loud or any positive memory that you have. What were you doing then? How did you feel? Who were you with? What could that experience be saying about you? This can be a great first step on your journey to discovery.

    Start from a place you don’t know.

    Seems like contradictory advice after the last point, right? But in a way, not knowing who you are can give rise to the most unexpected blessings.

    Many people have either defined themselves—or been defined by others—from day one. Some people live their entire lives this way, without ever feeling the desire or a reason to change. But you? You’re a blank canvas now, in a world full of paint. This is your chance to start creating a version of you that feels right.

    Remember what you have gained.

    As we begin this process of self-discovery, it can be very easy to get hung up on how wrong everything is, or was. Despite making significant gains (and if you’re reading this post, you probably already have!), you might find yourself focusing on what is still wrong.

    Take some time out of your day to remember how far you’ve come. Are you less anxious today than you were yesterday? Score! Did you discover a new interest but haven’t worked up the courage to try it yet? That’s still progress. The scoreboard is on your side, because we are counting wins, not losses in this game.

    Have patience.

    Patience, I admit, is pretty much a foreign language to me. I can’t pretend to be great at having it, but I will say, as hard as it is to have, it is absolutely necessary in this process.

    Discovering your new identity will take time. I’m talking months, even years. It can (and will!) seem like a wild goose chase at times, but the key is to remain patient and trust in the good work you are doing. Your efforts will be recognized.

    Take a break.

    As much as I have made my mental health a priority over the past year, it can be exhausting to feel like you have a huge problem you must fix looming over your shoulders at all times. This can lead to obsessive thoughts and dissatisfaction with your progress.

    It is important to stay focused on healing, but it is also important to get out of your own head sometimes. Throw yourself into work for a while. Get involved in an intense project to take your mind off yourself. These things help too, and keeping yourself productive is never a bad thing.

    Above all, the most important thing to keep in mind—and the thing that I keep learning every day—is that our greatest revelations don’t exactly show up in a nice, well-wrapped gift box. That would be great, right? But fortunately for us, they reveal themselves slowly, carefully, and right on time.

    As long as we stay the course, we’ll be able to see the new truths and lessons waiting for us further down the road.

    I wish you luck in your journey! Keep the faith.

  • 5 Things to Remember When You Start Worrying

    5 Things to Remember When You Start Worrying

    “Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight.” ~Benjamin Franklin

    Have you every worried yourself to the point of emotional, even physical exhaustion?

    Do you often feel stuck, anxious, or mistrustful of the world around you?

    I know what it’s like to feel trapped by worry—in fact, I have always been a chronic worrier.

    I worried and obsessed mostly about the hypothetical, the imaginary, the infinite variety of “what-if” scenarios. Eventually, I convinced myself that if I worried about every conceivable thing that could go wrong in my life, I would either avoid them altogether or numb myself of their effects.

    As time went on and responsibilities increased, the worries intensified. I became anxious about raising my children well. I worried about money, career, and what people thought of me.

    Then one day, I experienced a mild panic attack. Feeling overwhelmed with all I needed to get done that day, I began to experience dizziness and intense feelings of fear.

    For a moment, I felt like I was living in an altered reality as my legs wobbled beneath me, and my heart pounded in my chest. I quickly found a private place to sit until the feelings passed.

    I knew this was a wake-up call. I needed to find ways to manage my worry and anxiety before it got worse.

    Over the years, I’ve found that embracing the following five truths stops worry from spiraling out of control:

    1. You are not your worry.

    For a long time, I did what most people who worry do—I tried to make it stop. I quickly learned that trying to block thoughts of worry was like trying to stop a river from flowing.

    I eventually learned a simple but profound truth that changed everything for me:

    You are not your emotions.

    This is the power of detachment. Not the detachment that tries to be stoic but the one that allows you to feel your emotions without identifying with them.

    I began to apply this by observing myself non-judgmentally as I worried. As I continued to observe myself, I learned to be at peace with my inability to stop worrisome thoughts. But I also learned that I could change my response to those worrying thoughts for the better. The same can be true for you.

    2. Worry cannot exist in the present.

    We rarely worry about problems we presently face. Worrying is a future-oriented activity fueled by uncertainty and anticipation.

    The truth of this realization was another game changer for me. As I reflected, I could see that all of my worries were about a future I could not control. What about the past? The only past events I worried about were the ones I feared would adversely affect my future.

    Want to avoid worry altogether? Stay in the now. I learned to do this through mindfulness meditation. A simple mindfulness technique is to focus on your breath when you begin to drift away from the present. Let each inhalation and exhalation ground you right where you are.

    3. Worry can be confined.

    If you’ve ever struggled with worry, you know that it can easily consume your entire day. This happened to me regularly. Once I learned to accept my worry, I decided to confine it rather than allow it free reign over my life. I would set aside a limited amount of time to allow my mind to worry intensely on its latest subject. At the end of that period, I would let it go.

    Want to confine your worry? Try scheduling ten to thirty minutes a day for worry. Use this time to visualize your anxious feelings, write them down, and come up with an action plan for dealing with the root causes of your worry. If the worry reappears outside this scheduled time, postpone it until the next worry period.

    4. You can give away your worry.

    Have you ever noticed that your worry intensifies the more you focus on yourself? In the past, I used my worry to draw myself inward. I focused on my own needs and ignored the needs of others. It rarely helped to reduce my worry.

    One of the things I learned by observing myself was my tendency to forget about my worries when I worried about other people and helped them with their needs. I let the onset of worry be a signal to call a lonely friend or spend time with a loved one. I learned to give my worry away.

    5. You are human.

    The greatest source of my worry was my attempt to be superhuman. I was trying to be all things to all people. I worried incessantly about what they thought of me. Instead of beating myself up for not living up to everyone’s expectations, I decided to embrace my limitedness. I cannot please everyone, and I am at peace with this truth.

    It’s Time to Take a Stand

    I know it might seem hard for you to integrate these tips, especially if, like most of us, you’ve struggled with a long-standing habit of coddling worry rather than openly challenging it.

    But you can break down this habit one step at a time. Imagine a life without the controlling effects of worry. A life where worry itself is controlled and confined. Imagine no longer being emotionally drained by worry so that you can be truly present to those you love.

    Stand up to worry. Today.

    Separate yourself from it. Confine it. And let it go.

  • Changing Your Life Story and Finding Your Happy Ending

    Changing Your Life Story and Finding Your Happy Ending

    Change Your Story

    “Maybe it’s not about the happy ending. Maybe it’s about the story.” ~Unknown

    For the longest ever time, I had no idea what my own story was.

    Desperately uncomfortable in my skin as a child, I was equal parts pathologically shy with strangers and fearless with my sisters and brother, running wild over the boulder-strewn southern California land during summers.

    As a young girl, I was also, more than once, the target for predators and perps.

    The nameless elementary school janitor who invited me into his dark and dirty closet one day. The terrifying neighbor who stopped me in a deserted alley when I was eleven or twelve. Strange grown-ups who pulled over to the curb as I walked alone, asking if I wanted a ride.

    My own grandfather.

    The fairy tale about living in a safe world, where adults care for their young ones as precious flowers, quickly became a horror story filled with monsters and demons. There wasn’t a hero in sight.

    Maps and Masks

    As Dr. Lewis Mehl-Madrona says, in Healing the Mind Through the Power of Story, “Brains use stories to make maps of the external world…” The map my brain made of the world was that adults were dangerous, bad things were normal, and secrets were the glue that held everything together.

    I became masterful at wearing culturally acceptable masks in order to keep everyone at a safe distance, as well as to gain whatever conditional approval was available.

    There was great relief in school. I was good at playing by the rules. Good at the linear academic part. Good as a people-pleasing little girl.

    And truly, my life wasn’t all bad. There were good friends, lots of laughter, and an unspoken and unbreakable solidarity with my sibs—enough to start carefully making my way out into the larger world.

    But, amongst all the craziness of so many mixed messages, I simply could not hear my own story. Who was I? Where was my place? What experiences and choices were mine?

    The Chandeliers Are Shaking

    The first adult job I loved—in the public relations department of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra—became a magical portal into a world I’d only dreamed about. A glittering world where grown-ups were world-class musicians, and sparkling dinner party companions.

    In my little VW bug, I drove Simon Rattle (now Sir Simon, famed music director of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra); the late, great violinist Isaac Stern; jazz legend Dizzy Gillespie; and many others to interviews and lunches.

    The best Happy Birthday ever sung? It was at a private party in a downtown hotel, sung by the entire cast of the opera Falstaff, gathered from all over the world for what turned out to be a critically acclaimed run. The chandeliers were shaking for real that night.

    I found myself in a universe filled with adults who seemed to be effortlessly living happily ever after—everything I wasn’t.

    The problem? It seemed as though everyone drank, except me.

    Still excruciatingly shy, I had zero social skills. (It’s hard to learn how to use the proper cutlery when eating at Taco Bell, back in the day when our family took advantage of the Friday-night special—six tacos for a dollar— if there was enough money.)

    I wanted what I thought those grown-ups had. My competitive nature kicked into high gear. The solution? Start drinking, of course.

    Unbelievably enough, a handsome and powerful young prince fell in love with me. He was a major player in that shimmering universe.

    I learned to keep up with him, drink for drink, and everyone else with whom we socialized. I learned to sparkle, too.

    It’s Okay—Go Back to Sleep

    Oh, the extremely fancy shindigs, with bottles and bottles of wines and cognac and scotch worth hundreds of dollars each! Glittering black-tie parties with incredibly accomplished stars, and the people who wanted to sit next to them.

    I drank on the West coast; in the rarified air of Aspen, where we’d moved; in New York City. All the way across Europe, during fabulous trips that included the most exclusive backstage visits at La Scala in Milan and Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw. Always followed by uber-hip late-night suppers.

    Boy, I was really living my story now, wasn’t I? You bet! I hadn’t thought about that elementary school janitor in years.

    See? All better now. There aren’t any monsters in the closet. Go back to sleep.

    Except that I began having trouble managing the hangovers. It got harder to ignore the way I felt every time I lied to the local wine storeowner, buying case after case, saying it was for parties at our house, when really, it was just for me.

    Blessedly, I finally got to the point where I couldn’t stand myself anymore. I undertook the excruciating work of beginning to get real. To start living from my own story rather than anyone else’s.

    Utter Misery, Anyone?

    It took a long time. Can I just tell you?! There are parts of the heroine’s journey that are truly, absolutely miserable.

    But never, not once, was there a time that learning to get, and stay real, felt worse than needing to finish a bottle of wine, by myself, every night.

    Honestly? The traumatic experiences as a child, my journey into addiction and back out into recovery— healing the sacred wounds—all became the magic carpet ride leading to my life’s work.

    Which has been to re-claim my story for myself. To understand how to live my own truth. To create enough space for my story to live me.

    See, it’s not that life is so short but rather that it is that it’s so precious. We create our happy endings by choosing consciously, each day, which story we’re living.

    Am I a too-wounded animal, never able to walk with dignity and pride? Do I trust that the world is a safe and loving universe? Is there enough support for me to fly as I’m meant to? Where did I put those wings, anyway?!

    Finding Your Happy Endings Within Your Stories

    Use simple mindfulness to hear the story you’re telling about your experiences.

    Regular people experience horrible things every day. Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani teen shot by the Taliban for refusing to quit school, was just awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, in part because of how she’s told her story. It’s one of love and forgiveness rather than hatred and revenge.

    Notice what story you’re telling yourself about why you’re stuck.

    “Another glass of wine? Sure, it’s been a rough week/year/life. I deserve it!” or, “This job is good enough,” or, “That person isn’t really a bully,” or, “I’m okay. I can handle it. I don’t need any help.”

    Please, find a trained professional to help if you think you’re pretending just a wee bit too much that all is well when it isn’t.

    Look within the stories you’ve been telling yourself and everyone else for the happy-ending possibilities.

    Don’t see any? Here’s the secret: you can write your own stories, which creates new maps in the brain. Explore, play, pretend there may be another way to describe your experiences. It can actually be a lot fun. Who do you want to be? What life do you want? Go!

    Fear is everything. Until it isn’t. Until we understand that it’s all in our minds.

    Neuroscience research is full of studies showing how much control we have over shifting brain states, and cultivating a positive mindset. Who’s in charge, you, or the fear? You get to choose.

    The happy endings are found within our stories. And we get to write those stories. Even further, we must live the most magnificent version of our stories. That’s what each of us is here to do.

    Man throwing papers in the air image via Shutterstock

  • Radically Accept What Is Instead of Labeling it “Good” or “Bad”

    Radically Accept What Is Instead of Labeling it “Good” or “Bad”

    Peaceful Woman

    “The boundary to what we can accept is the boundary to our freedom.” ~Tara Brach

    I was in the heart of my Ph.D. program when I received the diagnoses: OCD, depression, and binge eating disorder.

    It explained a lot, of course. All those years of anxiety, self-doubt, and intrusive thoughts were not normal after all. Eating to the point of gaining forty pounds in a few months was foreign to most people.

    I wanted an explanation. Why me?

    I had done everything right: I made a decent living, I was kind to everyone, and I was presenting my scientific research at international conferences. Why was I being punished?

    I turned to my past and looked for an explanation—something I could pin the blame on. Was it my parents? Had years of moving from place to place as a military child scarred me?

    What about my peers? Those uncomfortable years of being teased and bullied for my grades and general good-girl behavior must have led to this.

    Perhaps I was to blame? Had I overachieved my way to a mental health breakdown? Had I failed myself?

    Those first few months of therapy were the most difficult. I was forced to face all these questions and more, digging into my past and present with both fervor and hesitation. What if I didn’t like the person I found underneath all these layers of expectations?

    As I stripped away the beliefs I held about myself, I watched as my worst fears came to life. It appeared that I was to blame after all. I had allowed myself to take on everyone else’s feelings about me and make them my own.

    My self-identity was a conglomeration of things I had been told over the years. I was smart, I was capable, I was good, I was bossy, I was sweet, I was stubborn, and I was so many other adjectives.

    There was nothing inherently wrong with these descriptors, particularly the positive traits, but I didn’t necessarily relate to all of them.

    My family saw me as “a sweet girl,” when I felt more tart than saccharine.

    People told me I was book smart, when I knew that I was a good mix of both academic intelligence and common sense.

    Some who were uncomfortable with women in power called me bossy, when really I was assertive.

    I had brought this breakdown on myself, I thought. How could I have let others define who I would become? Why was I so weak?

    It was around this time that one of my therapists introduced me to the idea of radical acceptance.

    It’s a concept based in Buddhist philosophy that is used by psychologists to help their clients heal and accept challenges in their lives.

    Rather than encouraging us to decide whether something is good or bad, as we often do automatically, radical acceptance encourages us to simply accept that things are.

    We have a tendency to apply labels to things. In my story, I had been labeled as smart, an overachiever, a worrywart, and other things. In turn, I labeled my newfound mental health situation as a misfortune, a major obstacle, a life changer, and other (mostly negative) things.

    Imagine how much more freeing it would be to live a life apart from labels! The key to this mindset, of course, is to realize that your feelings about an event do not change the event itself.

    Let’s say you got into a car accident. You may feel angry, hurt, frustrated, and many other emotions. Those are all valid feelings, and you have a right to experience them.

    But your anger won’t undo the accident. The accident happened. The accident is.

    Let’s take this one step further, however.

    After the accident you become angry that you have become frustrated. How could you allow yourself to get worked up over something that you can no longer control?

    You can also attempt to radically accept your feelings.

    Your emotional reactions are natural, and it’s counterintuitive to get worked up over what you “should” be feeling. What you are feeling is neither a bad nor a good thing, it simply is.

    What situations might you apply radical acceptance to in your daily life?

    • You wake up later than you planned to.
    • Your cat throws up on your new rug.
    • You fail a test that you prepared for extensively.
    • Your partner overdrew the checking account.
    • You didn’t get the raise you were expecting at work.

    Imagine accepting each of these events as something outside your control and training yourself to not get worked up over unexpected circumstances.

    This is not an easy task, and it will take time to incorporate the practice into your daily life. Be gentle to yourself.

    —

    I dropped out of my Ph.D. program after my first year of therapy. My journey into my brain showed me that I was heading down a path that others had set for me, one that I had not bothered to ask myself about.

    This major change in my life was labeled by others. To outsiders, I was a quitter, I couldn’t handle the pressure of academia, and I was not living up to my potential.

    But for me, this was simply a change. It was neither good nor bad, it was merely different.

    Since my mental health breakdown, I’ve experienced a lot of changes, both in my life and in my career. Some of them have been good changes, and some of them have been bad.

    But I don’t allow myself to fall into that black-and-white thinking as easily anymore.

    I have learned to own my story and my circumstances, and I love myself more because of it.

    Change can be good; change can be bad. But, most often, change simply is.

    Peaceful woman image via Shutterstock

  • How to Let Go of Expectations: Lessons from My Dog

    How to Let Go of Expectations: Lessons from My Dog

    “Stay committed to your decisions, but stay flexible in your approach.” ~Tom Robbins

    Have you ever finally gotten something you longed for only to find that things didn’t work out as expected?

    I know I have.

    I firmly believed that having a dog was the answer to some of my desires, such as having more meaning in my life and receiving love on demand from another life.

    I bought into irrefutable sayings like, “Dogs love unconditionally,” and, “Dogs are man’s best friend,” and, “Dogs are loyal.”

    As it turns out, the reality can be very different. And yes, those statements are true, but the results of expectations don’t manifest out of thin air. It takes patience, understanding, and a willingness to give more love than you take.

    A Day That Changed Our Lives

    My partner and I talked about having a dog for a while. He set his heart on West Highland Terriers because of their friendly, playful, and gentle nature. We couldn’t decide on the finer details, like shall we get a pup or “rescue” one that really needs a new home?

    Not having children, we thought a dog would be an ideal way to introduce some fun, responsibility, and meaning into our lives, and of course to get an abundance of joy and love. We fought our own demons around the same time; my partner had the blues, and I was still searching for myself.

    Then, by a series of “coincidences,” we found Mowgli. We spent hours scanning the classifieds and had gone to see a couple of Westies already, but none of them felt right.

    One cold February day, we visited a local shelter and set our eyes on an interesting-looking yellow terrier, one that would do.

    As we took him out to the playpen, we admitted to the keeper how we gave up on finding a Westie because the right one was hard to come by. Our jaws dropped when he said, “One’s actually coming in tomorrow. He’s five years old, and his name is Mowgli. Would you like to see him?”

    We could barely contain our excitement!

    My partner turned up the next day, and his first words will always ring true in my ear: “He’s perfect.” He walked him tirelessly for two hours every day until we could take him home a couple of weeks later.

    What Have We Done?

    But things weren’t as smooth as I had pictured. It took me a while to fully accept this little creature into my heart and life.

    We knew he had some behavioral issues that weren’t apparent until we brought him home.

    The first time I realized this was when my partner left the house and Mowgli repeatedly displayed his disapproval by messing in the wrong places. And my empathetic reaction to this? “I see now why they wanted to get rid of him!” However, the situation was more complex.

    After some research, I discovered he suffered from separation anxiety—common among some rescue dogs. Knowing this made it easier to understand what he was going through, and we started to take corrective action.

    Ironically, I was also dealing with my own anxiety problems, and this little dog helped me in some ways to change. I unreasonably chastised him when I was no better. As time went on—using ingenuity and creativity to calm him—small improvements became noticeable.

    Then came the jealousy; he formed a strong bond with my partner, and I felt left out. He didn’t love me as much. Every time I took him out, he didn’t want to go—he kept pulling me back home. I lost sight of the bigger picture and started to resent this poor animal.

    A Sobering Wake-Up Call

    The wake-up call came when he was attacked by another dog in a field and got injured. We all limped home shocked and bemused. My partner and I were irresponsible to let him off lead since we barely even knew him. We could’ve lost him right there.

    I took time off work to look after him, and we began to get closer. I nursed him and took him on walks, carefully introducing him to other dogs. While I got to know local dog owners, I faced my own fear of people too.

    A year on, we have a much better relationship. He still prefers my partner, but I no longer have bad feelings about him. I now understand his needs and emotions better, and I fully accept him and the way he behaves.

    On reflection, he was also teaching me some important lessons—I needed rescuing from my own expectations and rigid beliefs.

    He’s a content little dog most of the time, and we love having him around!

    A Dog’s Wisdom on People and Life

    Take a good look in the mirror.

    The dog’s behavior was a catalyst for me to recognize I needed to change some of my attitudes.

    He was afraid of being apart from my partner, and I was afraid of interacting with people. But he required daily walks, and inevitably we’d meet humans and canines along the way. Slowly, he got used to spending more time with me, and I was getting better at small talk.

    Sometimes you get so caught up with everyday life that it takes a big change to jolt you into reflection on how things really are. Use difficult events in your life as reminders to take a good look in the mirror and ask, “How can this help me?”

    Cultivate patience and let events unfold.

    Clearly, you cannot hurry bonding with a dog. Same goes for human interactions—deep and meaningful relationships will take time to form.

    Chatting in the park regularly can make friends out of acquaintances. I now know a number of people from town who I would have never met if it weren’t for catering to my dog’s needs. If something goes awry, try and try again.

    Befriend acceptance.

    Be willing to receive wholeheartedly what you are faced with instead of judging and wanting to change it. I learned that it was better to acknowledge how things were rather than fighting them and wishing to be different without doing the work.

    Be more present.

    You can immerse yourself in the right now instead of focusing on how things should be. Whatever you experience in the moment, embrace it. And some of it won’t be pretty. But each of them contributes to your understanding and reaction to events.

    Release the need to control.

    One reason you become paralyzed by expectations is because you want to feel in control of every situation coming your way—to be able to deal with everything efficiently and to have a handle on them. But, it’s okay to be out of your depth and admit you don’t have all the answers and may need to learn something.

    Find your role.

    You’ll get more satisfaction out of a seemingly lost situation if you can recognize your part in it.

    I didn’t get instant or unconditional love from this dog, but I had another role to play in supporting both him and my partner while we were figuring him out. I found the answers for his behavior, which enabled me to see my value, making me a whole lot happier.

    Adopt a flexible outlook.

    Consider letting go of rigid beliefs and give yourself permission to change your mind. We all hold onto some values and ideals that we think define us. Sometimes we don’t see the woods for the trees because of recurring patterns we are trapped in.

    Look for opportunities.

    Go beyond the initial projections you had about a situation, and be willing to see what else may be possible. It could be the ideal time for gaining better understanding about yourself and expanding your horizons, thereby allowing for growth that was not apparent before.

    Remind yourself of the bigger picture.

    When all else fails, think of the big reasons for why you’re doing something. Why did we want to take the dog in the first place? A living, breathing soul in need of a forever home and a loving family to take care of him. In this light, all my prior expectations dissipated.

    Turning Around Unhelpful Expectations

    Expectations are like first dates. You put them on a pedestal to which they rarely match up. They confine and limit your vision, clouding anything else that may be out there.

    But they don’t have to paralyze you. Have an open mind. Have the courage to be wrong. Find the usefulness in seemingly lost causes.

    Like a wise old sage, you’ll become skilled at finding valuable lessons even when things don’t go as planned.

    And what you thought was the worst thing that’s ever happened to you might just turn out to be one of the best.

    Western Highland Terrier image via Shutterstock

  • We Can Choose to Let Go, Stop Suffering, and Find Peace

    We Can Choose to Let Go, Stop Suffering, and Find Peace

    Peaceful Woman

    “People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    I’ve called it my “Epiphany Bubble,” and it might be hard to believe, but it’s my true experience.

    I stood on the lawn of our city’s hospital. The sun was shining down on our group of grieving parents. My belly was big with my third child, but my heart was still heavy with grief from my second.

    Jonathan. I’ve never personally known anyone whose entire life was surrounded by compassion and love, like every minute of his twelve-and-a-half hours in my arms.

    Although the summer of 2000 was a long, painful journey through terminal pregnancy, Jonathan had blessed my life in countless ways. I just hadn’t yet understood that.

    Our hospital had this gathering a couple times a year. Parents who grieved babies would come, enjoy some cookies and punch, and chat with other moms and dads who were coping with loss.  

    At the end, we always did the same thing—write our baby’s name along with dates of birth and death on a white balloon.

    As I wrote “Jonathan 9-21-2000 – 9-22-2000” on my balloon, I smiled a little just at the joy of writing his name. I gave my belly a gentle touch and said a little prayer for my next little boy.

    Then I looked to my left. There were three women standing together, quite distraught in tears, comforting one another. I, of course, knew why they were crying, but I was curious.

    I was curious about the dates. When I looked at their balloons, I saw dates reflecting years prior. Six, seven, eight years earlier. My heart sank. I wondered, “Do I have to be in that much pain years from now? Does this heartbreak never end?”

    And that’s when it happened—my epiphany bubble. I suddenly felt as though I was in my own space, and that the world had ceased to spin. Everything outside of my bubble was blurry, and everyone seemed frozen, when I realized…

    I have choice.

    I stood for a few moments more, and the bubble vanished. But its effect on me did not. Something now stirred within me—a determination to really heal, let go, and be genuinely happy again.

    At home I began to wonder about choosing how to feel about life and how to perceive all that I experience on my journey. I started to seek within.

    Through journaling, praying, and meditating, I felt a shift. I sensed guidance. I glimpsed a bit of inner peace.

    Some of my wonderings were a bit surprising, but I gave space to let them unfold. Rather than judge, I allowed them to come to me without logic. I also resisted the teachings from my childhood, which would have stopped them from showing me a new way to perceive Jonathan’s life.

    I wondered, maybe Jonathan is a guardian angel. Perhaps he will protect and look after his big sister, Sydra, and his little brother who has yet to take his first breath.

    I smiled a bit at imagining my sweet Jonathan, from some other place of being, guiding and loving his siblings.

    I wondered, perhaps Jonathan was meant to leave this life at a very young age, and perhaps this could have happened in a variety of ways.

    Would I choose for his life to be very short, spent in my arms, and surrounded by love and compassion? Or, would I choose to have more time with him, but risk something worse—have him be a child who I’ve heard horrifying stories about, children who are abducted and hurt?

    I felt a bit of trust at realizing that I don’t know how it all works. Life, death, and all the days between and following are a mystery, really. Maybe his life was exactly how it was meant to be, or perhaps it might have been more tragic.

    I wondered, could it be that Jonathan was my son for this short time to teach me?

    I reflected on the months we spent together—when I learned he was terminal, my decision to carry him, the long nights, the quiet moments, the countless tears and prayers, the painful delivery, and the hours I had him in my arms looking into his beautiful eyes three times.

    I relaxed a bit realizing all I had learned. I was a strong woman, someone who was willing to give all I had to another, a woman who remained hopeful and optimistic amidst a very difficult time. I was a woman who sent prayers and love to other pregnant women, asking that they not suffer as I was.

    I wondered, could Jonathan’s life have served purpose beyond me, our family, and my understanding?

    I thought about all the people who had surrounded Jonathan with love and compassion before and during his life. I recalled the many people who came to his memorial service, each saying how deeply he had touched their heart.

    My trust deepened. I knew Jonathan’s life, however brief, served purpose. He was a blessing, a sweet, little blessing, to many people, and I was the lucky woman who was honored to be his mom.

    Grief is nothing to be rushed. Throughout this time, I was gentle and patient with myself, honoring all my emotions, not pushing through them or stuffing them in the secret places of my heart. By doing so, I was better able to deeply heal.

    Grief is also nothing to cling to simply because it’s familiar. Although the journey had many twists and turns, and I needed to allow it to show its way, it is worth the inner work to let go and find peace.

    It is not just grief where we have choice. With all our life experiences—every emotion from anger to joy, from love to fear—we can choose.

    Allowing our heart and mind to wonder, taking time to feel it all without judgment, and seeking within for the path of letting go, this is the way to embrace all of life and peacefully enjoy the now.

    Peaceful woman image via Shutterstock

  • How to Motivate Yourself Instead of Criticizing Yourself

    How to Motivate Yourself Instead of Criticizing Yourself

    “I define depression as a comparison of your current reality to a fantasy about how you wish your life would be.” ~Dr. John Demartini

    I always wanted to do things “right.” I was the little kid at the front of the room, raising her hand for every question. I was great at pushing myself to succeed and please.

    My drive to be perfect was an asset through college and law school. I rocked high grades and landed a big firm job right out of school. But that same drive drove me right into a therapist’s office at twenty-five, where I was diagnosed with severe depression.

    Then just like any good perfectionist, I drove myself harder to overcome the depression, to be more perfect. I Cookie Monstered personal growth, intensely gobbling up books, lectures, retreats, and coaching.

    Have you ever been cruising along, then suddenly realized you’ve been going the wrong way for a while?

    When I had suicidal thoughts in my thirties after giving birth to my daughter, my intense drive came to a screeching halt. My desire to be perfect had driven me into a deep and scary postpartum depression.

    My thoughts were no longer mine, and for the first time in my life I was afraid of what was happening in my head. Something had to shift.

    So I went on a new journey, one designed to find out (for real this time) how to reduce the daily suffering that I knew I was causing myself. What I learned shifted my entire life. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

    Let me walk you through my journey. Maybe you can discover something about yourself along the way.

    To Motivate or To Berate—That is the Question

    Like all good journeys, mine starts with a hero (me) and a villain (my inner critic voice). Now, that “little voice” for me was not little at all. It was more like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man in Ghostbusters, the mean one with the scary eyes.

    One day I decided to turn toward my Mean Marshmallow Man Voice and ask it questions. Why must I be perfect? Why are you always criticizing me?

    “Because you’re not perfect.” It said, with a booming voice. “You’re not…” and then it went on to list about 2,000 things that I was failing to do, be, say, or accomplish.

    But this time, when I pictured all of these 2,000 things, I started to imagine the person who would actually have done all of those things. Who would this person be, this perfect version of me? Let’s name her Perfect Lauren.

    Well, let’s see. Perfect Lauren would never let the clothes on her floor pile up, or the mail go unread. Perfect Lauren wouldn’t spend hours watching The Walking Dead or surfing Facebook. Perfect Lauren would work out every day, in the morning, before work.

    Perfect Lauren would eat extremely well and would skip Starbucks, no matter how much she loved Salted Carmel Mochas. Perfect Lauren would have a perfect meditation practice every day.

    I saw my entire life flash before my eyes, one long comparison to Perfect Lauren and one long failure to measure up. Did I assume that with enough self-abuse, one day I would become Perfect Lauren? One day I would finally be this fantasy super mom who would always “have it together”?

    Suddenly I realized that my immense drive, the one that had allowed me to be so successful, was not a drive toward the happiness I wanted. I was not driving toward anything at all. I was driving away from something.

    I drove myself to avoid feeling shame, self-criticism, and self-hate. I drove myself to please the Mean Marshmallow Man Voice. I drove myself to avoid hating myself.

    Why do you do things? Do you exercise, eat right, study, or work hard because you love yourself and want good for yourself? Or do you do these things to avoid shame and self-criticism?

    I had spent my entire life motivating myself with negativity. And I was now paying the price.

    Why It’s Hard to Change

    Once I realized how much I compared myself to Perfect Lauren, I tried to stop. It seems simple. Just stop doing it.

    But when I tried too hard, I kept getting stuck in this Dr. Seuss-like spiral of hating myself for trying to not hate myself. My former coach used to call that a “double bind,” because you’re screwed either way.

    For me to finally learn how to change this, I first had to ask myself…why? And yes, I know that I’m starting to sound like Yoda, but follow me here.

    Why did I need to compare myself to Perfect Lauren? Why did it matter? When I pulled at the thread, I found the sad truth.

    I compare myself to Perfect Lauren because somewhere deep in my mind I believe that Perfect Lauren gets the love. Real Lauren doesn’t. So I must constantly push myself to be Perfect Lauren, never accepting Real Lauren.

    Okay, that sounds ridiculous. When you highlight a belief, sometimes it can look like a big dog with shaved fur, all shriveled and silly. I don’t believe that at all.

    I believe the Lauren that leaves clothes on the floor and loses the toothpaste cap deserves love! The Lauren who hates to unload the dishwasher and loses bills in a pile of mail, she deserves love too!

    How to Transform Self-Criticism

    Have you ever looked endlessly for something and then realized it was sitting right in front of your face? It turns out that the solution to my self-criticism and comparison was actually pretty simple—start loving myself more.

    Now loving Real Lauren, with all faults, is not easy. But I’m trying.

    Instead of pushing myself with shame, hatred, and self-criticism, I am learning to motivate myself with praise. Instead of threatening myself, I am pumping myself up.

    And this has changed everything. I actually get more done using positive motivation. And more importantly, I feel better about what I get done. I’m happier, calmer, and feel more at peace with my life.

    If you want to shift your own self-criticism and free yourself from the tyranny of your Mean Marshmallow Man, stop trying to fix yourself and start trying to love yourself.

    Here is a practical way to implement this into your life:

    The next time you notice that you are criticizing yourself or comparing yourself to Perfect You, stop. Hit the pause button in your head.

    Next, say, “Even though I… I love and accept all of myself.” So, for me today, “Even though I shopped on Zulily instead of writing this blog post, I love and accept all of myself.”

    Now imagine that you’re giving yourself a hug, internally. Try to generate a feeling of self-compassion.

    When you do this regularly, you will start to notice what I noticed. Love and self-compassion can shift even the strongest negative thoughts and emotions and allow you to enjoy more of your life.

    And that’s the real goal here, isn’t it? If we keep driving ourselves using self-criticism, we will never be happy, no matter how perfect we are, because we won’t enjoy the process. We won’t enjoy the journey.

    I believe that the happiest people in life aren’t the ones with the least baggage. They are just the ones who learned to carry it better so that they can enjoy the ride.

    The more we generate self-compassion and love, the easier perfectionism and self-criticism will be to carry. And the easier it will be for us to love and enjoy this beautiful and amazing journey called life.

  • Why We Feel Stuck in Life and the Secret to Dealing with It

    Why We Feel Stuck in Life and the Secret to Dealing with It

    “It is the way we react to circumstances that determines our feelings.” ~Dale Carnegie

    We’ve all felt like we’re drowning in mud.

    You feel stuck, worthless, and confused.

    You want to move. You should. You have to. But you can’t.

    And then it evolves into anxiety, fear, and overwhelm.

    But what if—just what if—being stuck isn’t the problem, but how we perceive it?

    The Truth About Being Stuck

    Every year, I have periods where I feel “stuck.”

    Yet when I look closer, I see that “being stuck” is a label I give to a natural part of life.

    It’s a time when not much happens. The anxiety comes when I think it should be otherwise. I start to force myself to work, to come up with ideas, and to make things happen.

    And when I don’t get anywhere, I call it being stuck.

    So, what is being stuck except the way I perceive life?

    As I write this, I’ve been in a stuck period for the last few months. The difference is that I struggle less, because I’m beginning to let it be.

    Why We Get Stuck

    You get stuck when you think you should be something you’re not. When you think life should be different than it is.

    I know I’m trying to force myself to do something when words like ”should,” ”have to,” and ”must” enter my mind.

    When I relax and surrender to this quiet period in my life, things seem okay. I see that I can’t control life. I can only notice what life brings to me.

    The Secret to Being Stuck Completely

    Being stuck is like quicksand. The more you try to get out, the deeper you sink.

    My mind wants to push, control, and manipulate. It stems from insecurity. I want to be secure, be loved, and be remarkable.

    I think that if I could just control life, all would be well.

    It’s not until I face reality that things begin to lift. Here are three things I do:

    1. Give up.

    When you’re stuck, surrender to being stuck.

    I notice the thoughts and feelings within me that say that I’m stuck, and that something is wrong.

    If I stay completely in this moment, there is no being stuck. There is only the label of a situation—a label that I’ve invented based on what I think my life should look like.

    When I notice all this going on, I breathe a deep sigh of relief.

    But that doesn’t mean that the feelings go away. I might still feel the anxiety, but it doesn’t have a death grip on me anymore.

    I can see the play of thoughts. I can surrender to what comes.

    And I still fall into resisting, but I’m getting better at letting it be what it is. I’m getting better at enjoying being stuck.

    The funny thing is that when we enjoy being stuck, we’re not stuck anymore, because being stuck was all in our head.

    2. Enjoy yourself.

    There’s always something you feel drawn to do during these periods. You’re not completely stuck, not in every area of your life.

    Right now, I’m reading books. I’m playing with my son. I’m watching movies and TV shows (the British version of Sherlock is amazing).

    And on occasion, I’m writing articles like this, expressing what I feel.

    I do the work I need to do. But then I let myself have fun.

    It’s easy for me to feel guilty during this period because I feel like I’m not doing enough. But I’ve learned to see that I’m doing the best I can.

    It’s another example of getting stuck in the story that I tell myself.

    I am who I am. I’m doing what I can do. That’s enough.

    And right now, that means doing less. The tide will shift soon enough.

    The same is true for you. Do what you can, but go easy on yourself.

    3. Write.

    At times when I feel truly stuck, I write.

    I don’t have a system or structure. I get a piece of paper and I write. I like to write by hand, the old fashioned way. It seems to clear my head more than writing on my computer.

    What I do is write down everything going on in my head. No censoring. No looking back.

    I let everything come out, especially the nasty bits.

    The more I do this, the more I notice repeating patterns. I see how I want to change what is, and how futile it is.

    The more aware I become, the more these things fall away.

    When you truly become aware of what goes on inside of your head, you start to let go because you see how you create your own suffering.

    My Biggest Mistake

    When we resist what is, we suffer. That’s true for anything in life.

    When I try to change what is, I poison myself from the inside out.

    But with time, I’ve learned to see my resistance as a sign to relax. To see that I can only do my best with what I have, then it’s out of my hands.

    There’s no pushing needed. Life lives itself through me, because I am life.

    I am not separate from anything or anyone. I am this planet. I am the stars. I am you.

    I sometimes wonder why we think we are not supported in life. We come into this world through a womb, where we’re supported.

    The trees in the forest are supported. Yet we believe we’re the exception. Are we? I don’t think we are.

    We just think that life should look different than it does. But the fact that life isn’t what you think it is shows that you’re wrong.

    Let Things Be

    Whether you feel stuck for a week or for a year doesn’t really matter.

    You do the best you can with what you have.

    But something I’ve noticed is that the longer I’m stuck, and the more I surrender to it, the more I learn when I come out of it.

    It is the darkest periods of my life that have taught me the most about myself.

    I’ve learned that life isn’t all about accomplishing things. Sometimes it’s about resting and letting things be.

    These periods are no different than the seasons. There’s sun. There’s snow. There’s light, and there’s darkness.

    Once you let it be what it is, things change because your perception changes.

    But beware of making this another thing you have to do. Be kind to yourself. Let yourself be completely stuck.

    And let yourself fight it, because you will.

    It’s all good.

  • 9 Things to Tell Yourself When You’re Afraid to End a Relationship

    9 Things to Tell Yourself When You’re Afraid to End a Relationship

    “F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or ‘Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.” ~Zig Ziglar

    No matter how old I get, no matter how experienced I become, ending a relationship is agonizing.

    It represents a loss, and losses hurt.

    Deep down, I know if I go through with it, I’ll feel freer—well, not right away, but in a little while anyway—but I’d rather crawl under a rock and ignore the whole thing.

    When I was a teen, I went out with a guy who had a major crush on me, although I wasn’t attracted to him. After four months I wanted out, so I completely disappeared! I ignored all of his phone calls, and that was the end of it.

    Another time, I hoped that my boyfriend would cheat on me and get caught so I could find a good enough reason to end things, which eventually happened. And in my twenties, since I lived with my boyfriends, I would just keep quiet, letting things drag on. Cowardly thing to do, huh? Yeah, I know.

    Later, I realized that I disliked conflict. I was afraid of it. I was afraid of the disappointment it would cause in them and in myself. And most of all, I was afraid of failure.

    Today, I’m no breakup wizard. Trust me. It’ll always be hard. But with time, I developed a few thoughts to give me strength to truly voice my unhappiness in my relationships, and they should help you too.

    1. One day these painful moments will be a distant memory.

    Think about your past relationships—the one you had fifteen years ago, the one you had ten years ago, or the one you had five years ago. They aren’t your current reality.

    Whatever current reality you’re living in will also become a memory five, ten, or fifteen years down the road. Thinking this way helped me lessen the importance of constantly keeping them in my mind.

    2. We’ll both be thankful I took action instead of regretful I didn’t.

    When I projected myself into the future without the other person, I imagined an alternate life where both of us were with the right person. I imagined us being happy. And then I’d think: How could we hate each other for meeting the real loves of our lives?

    Of course in the present moment, we’d be regretful, but in a different time of our lives, we surely would be thankful that someone decided to end things so we could be happier. Why not let that someone be you?

    3. Losing someone who makes me unhappy is actually not a loss; it’s a gain.

    Losing someone might make you feel like a loser. But if you think of the action of losing someone who makes you unhappy and wonder what it would feel like, it changes your perspective on things.

    When I did this, I felt strong. Because I then had the willingness to move, correct, and change the course of my life.

    And that’s an achievement in itself. Getting away from someone who brings you torment is the biggest relief. It makes you regain your freedom, your energy, and your life.

    4. Maybe we were meant to cross paths with each other, not meant to walk our paths together.

    Don Miguel Ruiz, the author of The Four Agreements, teaches us that we’re all messengers. We receive messages, or teachings, from people all around us.

    And we receive them at certain moments in our lives. Just as teachers came and went in school, other people will also come and go as life, or the school of life, goes on.

    And if you have nothing else to learn from someone, it’s simply time to take the other person’s lessons gratefully and continue to walk your path.

    5. A relationship is a chapter in my life, not my life’s entire story.

    Imagine being the author of your own adventure book. Picture yourself reading it and finishing a chapter. Then ask yourself: What will happen in the next chapter?

    And since you’re the writer of your own book, you can add as many chapters as you want. This approach really helped me get excited for my next adventure—which I admit, might be a little scary too.

    6. The moments we shared aren’t destroyed; they’re my opportunity to grow.

    We always think that when we break up, we kill everything else that was created from it. You can learn so many things about yourself from your previous relationships. In my case, I learned to be more present, more attentive, and more thoughtful. I learned that I had to give myself emotionally if I wanted to have a stronger relationship.

    Meditating on your past relationships makes you grow, and learning from them improves future relationships.

    7. A relationship isn’t real if I’m not real with myself.

    A relationship is about true communication and intimacy. Whenever you’re not honest with yourself, whenever you’re not true to your feelings, you can’t strengthen your bond with your loved one.

    Having an honest relationship with yourself might be difficult, but it’s critical.

    8. Leaving will hurt, but staying will hurt even more.

    If you can’t stop thinking that you’d destroy your loved one if you left, think about how you’d destroy yourself if you stayed. Bring the focus back to yourself and picture yourself in a distant future being in this exact situation. Do you like what you see?

    This vision made me see a dark portrait of my life. So I understood that I should only worry about how I feel about myself in the present and that I needed to stop worrying about others so much.

    9. I can break free because I trust myself.

    You possess a profound inner voice—an all-encompassing, nurturing, and loving voice. Its purpose isn’t to bring you down, but to elevate you and make you accomplish things that are so great and unimaginable that you can feel gratified beyond belief.

    Your inner voice will never lie to you. It will always express your deepest truth and guide you with the most precise discernment of what will serve your highest good—even if that means getting out of your comfort zone and taking risks.

    It has never let me down, and it won’t let you down either.

    Find the Courage to Break Free

    Sure, it takes courage to break the news to your soon-to-be-ex that you no longer want to go on. I can attest that you’ll doubt yourself. I can attest that you’ll procrastinate. I can attest that you’ll over-think things, wondering if you’ll make a horrible mistake.

    But you’ll feel invigorated once you free your mind and use your intuition as your guide. Know that:

    You are able.

    You are amazing.

    You are strong.

    And you deserve happiness. Whenever you feel stuck and unable to break free, bring up one of the above thoughts to give you strength.

    Then imagine your new course, as if you were walking on air.

  • How to Stop Feeling Inadequate and Let Go of Heavy Expectations

    How to Stop Feeling Inadequate and Let Go of Heavy Expectations

    “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.” ~Charles Dickens

    When I was seven years old, my parents had me take an IQ test for an application to a private school near our new home.

    I vaguely remember sitting with the proctor, answering question after question about vocabulary and spatial recognition. To seven-year-old me, the test was nothing more than a fun logic puzzle, and I delighted at each question I knew the answer to, bright eyed and enthusiastic.

    While I don’t recall my exact score, the numbers were unusually high—in fact, so high that the proctor expressed her surprise to my parents that I was not suffering from some form of high-functioning autism.

    From age seven on, I was placed in the most gifted classes in both public and private school. I enjoyed the challenge, and the attention I received, until I became a teenager.

    In my transition to adolescence, I became aware of the incredible teenagers around the world writing novels, promoting peace, and inventing the types of machinery and technology that change the world.

    These individuals inspired me, but secretly implanted a deep sense of fear and angst in my mind.

    For as long as I could remember, people had been telling me, “Avery, you are going to do amazing things with your life,” while I spent my life like any other teenager: school, sports practice, homework, food, bed, repeat. I was not accomplishing any great feats.

    I slowly began to feel like I was failing to fulfill my full potential as a human being.

    Being exceptionally gifted, once a joy and privilege, had become a toxin to my emotional well-being. I was all consumed by my ego telling me that I should be more—or I was wasting my intellect.

    This led me to sporadically start novels, blogs, articles, anything to prove myself worthy of my intelligence. I would give up on each one quickly and move on to my next idea, as unsuccessful as the first.

    No matter what I tried, the world still did not know my name—the only thing, I thought, that could make feel adequate.

    About a year ago, it dawned on me that my pattern of self-dissatisfaction and disappointment was unsustainable.

    No matter what I did, no matter how many people knew my name, it made no difference. I always craved more, and anything less than becoming the next Einstein was a personal failure.

    So, with that in mind, I began the arduous process of redefining success in my life. The only way I could do this, I learned, was to help others realize their own goodness.

    I began with my personal mantra:

    “It is better to change one person’s life than to have 1,000 know your name.”

    I stumbled upon this realization somewhat suddenly, after taking a two-week long trip with my grade. I invested myself in helping my friends with sickness and fear, and I came away changed; I finally felt like I’d accomplished something permanent and meaningful.

    Instead of living for recognition from the world, I began to look for satisfaction through my personal relationships. I no longer needed to change the world to be successful; I just needed to know that I had changed someone’s life for the better.

    Surprisingly, this is a relatively easy task to accomplish with discipline. By investing myself in relationships with my friends, acquaintances, and partner, I began to receive incredible feedback.

    People genuinely began to thank me—not for being kind, but for literally changing their lives.

    The key for me was genuinely listening to others, and caring about their needs and opinions. Helping people came naturally to me, and remains the best gift I can give to others; not some profound piece of writing or technological advancement.

    Typically, the people around me who I listened to had similar issues of inadequacy. I was not alone. They too believed themselves to be failures, unable achieve their potential, whether that potential was straight A’s or a sports scholarship or being kind.

    I could see the innate goodness of the people around me shining through, and it pained me to see them suffer from feelings of inadequacy. I knew, deep down, that everyone around me was good and pure and beautiful, as all children of this earth are.

    As a result, I realized through time that if the people around me were all beautiful and good, as all people are, then I must be good too—just the way I am and always will be.

    By loving others, I had already achieved my purpose on this earth: to be the inherently sympathetic and kind creature that all human beings are.

    I now actively seek people around me who need my care, and indulge them when necessary. Love has taken precedence in my life over material accomplishment, as it truly should. I have closer, more meaningful relationships, more acquaintances, and an exponentially higher self esteem.

    The beauty is, people reciprocate genuine love: the people you help will be there for you in your times of need, too. Love is a self-fulfilling prophecy that can only be positive for all parties involved.

    At the end of the day, people simply want to receive love and attention; and through giving others these things, I not only improved their lives but also my own perception of myself.

    I was able to focus on the immediate positive impact my life was making on that of others, and I finally felt purposeful and that I was leading a meaningful life.

    The truth is, not everyone can change the entire world, and not everyone needs to. All we can do is give as much love in our lives as possible, treat ourselves kindly, and leave the world a more positive place than we entered it.

    That is all I can ask of myself, and I try to leave all other expectations of myself behind—the ones of impermanent success that can only bring me dissatisfaction and suffering.

    Maybe thousands do not know your name, but you have the power to completely change the lives of those around you with love; and that, I’ve learned, is far more gratifying and important.

  • 4 Questions to Help You Let Go And Allow Life to Happen

    4 Questions to Help You Let Go And Allow Life to Happen

    “If you let go a little you will have a little happiness. If you let go a lot you will have a lot of happiness. If you let go completely you will be free.” ~Ajahn Chah 

    I’m a smart woman. And being smart gets me in trouble. I know how to cross my “T’s” and dot my “I’s”—to prepare for what might come. I know how to plan, to pack, to book tickets, to be the perfect tour guide.

    I know how to make lists—very well. I know how to calendar myself and how to produce events. I know how to assess situations and make them seemingly work out well.

    Or do they?

    Too often, I have everything planned and marked out, and life still happens without me.

    Six months ago, I decided I was ready to move from a house I owned with my ex-husband. We were divorced two years before, yet I needed the time to grieve.

    When I found my dream home, a sweet small cottage for lease in the Santa Monica canyon overlooking the sea, I thought it was meant to be.

    With tears filled with happiness and release, eagerly anticipating a new life for me, I sold my house and started to prepare for the move. Two days before the movers came, the owner of the cottage said she wanted to dissolve the lease.

    I was freaked out to say the least.

    Yet, I tightened my britches. I called the movers and asked them to store my belongings until I knew where I was going. I pressed my real-estate agent to find me another place to rent. At the time, it was a bad rental market in Los Angeles.

    The next morning, I ran into my lovely neighbor in front of my house.

    Seeing the “Sold” sign in my front yard, he asked me, “Where are you moving?”

    “I don’t know,” I said, discouragingly. “My lease fell through; I’m putting my stuff in storage.”

    Seeing the fear in my face, my neighbor said to me, “Lynn, when is the next time all of your stuff is in storage? When will be the next time you are not paying a mortgage? This is a perfect time to go somewhere fun for a while, especially after your divorce—how about the south of Spain? France?”

    That all seemed too crazy to me.

    But later that night, I thought to myself, “He’s right. If I wanted to experience some place else where might it be?”

    I didn’t get a clear answer.

    I called a friend and told her what my neighbor said to me. She reminded me, “Remember a year ago you said you were curious about New York City?”

    “Yes!” I said.

    And then it hit me.

    Don’t get me wrong—it was hell and back before I made it to New York. I was all over the place (emotionally and literally), crashing in too many friends’ homes and hotels for six weeks. I threw a rib out from the stress. But I finally arrived to New York City with two bags.

    And I learned a valuable lesson in regards to my practical, plan making:

    No matter how much I plan, it doesn’t always work out the way I think it will be.

    Here are four questions I contemplated since then about letting go and allowing life to happen:

    1. What if you stopped trying to do?

    So many times we think we have “to do” to make it all happen. It’s not that we should stop trying to be productive or to lose sight of our goals, desires, or needs; but sometimes “doing” overrides “allowing.”

    I often wonder what it would be like if I attempted to not do—to see what would happen next. Where I might end without all that effort.

    I see clearly now that something larger than me had a plan of its own: Another city on another coast. Who would have believed?

    2. What if you only focused on what is in front of you?

    It’s common sense that we cannot plan really, because we all know that even when we try, life can throw us a curve ball.

    So, what if we were to just focus on the object at hand? The one thing in front of us?

    For instance, right now, I’m selling a house. Right now, I’m renting a cottage. Right now, the cottage is no longer available. Right now, I am staying at a friend’s house. Right now I am going to New York City.

    Well, then life gets interesting!

    We get to be a part of the river, following its flow and sometimes being led somewhere better than we thought we could go.

    3. What if you don’t know?

    Too often, I think I know what is going to happen. Or at least, if I don’t know what will happen I have a back-up plan. (Or several. Or many.) I try to stay safe by predicting and preparing.

    And I realize now, that’s my ego speaking. It stops me from seeing that something other than what I think I want might be awaiting me.

    I learned from this experience the humility in the power of “I don’t know.”

    “I don’t know” keeps me fresh. It keeps me present. It keeps me alive. Then I don’t have to force things to be in the way I think they should be.

    Plus, I no longer have to pretend I have everything under control. Instead, I am free!

    For fun, try saying, “I don’t know” for a day to everything.

    Sit in the unknowing. It’s uncomfortable, for sure. This “spaciousness” is disconcerting. But great new and exciting territory lies in that unknown. And the mystery, ultimately directs us on its own.

    4. Can you handle changing directions?

    When I control, prepare, think things out, and think they are the right or the best course of action, lightening can still strike, causing me to go in a different direction.

    Rather than panic, (like I did) I can meet the current when it changes in front of me. Life has a funny way of showing the right path, eventually.

    Many times, my fear and panic is a messenger. showing me I am going in a direction that is not in alignment. That anxiety, as scary as it is, might be telling me something.

    If I pay attention, my fear might be offering me something good.

    In the end, New York City has brought me a plethora of wonderful new things. After being on the west coast for twenty-seven years, this was a huge surprise to me—a life experience I didn’t know was available.

    I’m curious now, more than ever, what will happen if I continue to ask these four questions. Perhaps, some unknown force is leading me. Perhaps, my willingness and intuition is guiding me. But when I let go, even if for a while, I find I am more happy and free.

    How do you feel asking yourself these questions? What might you be curious about if you let go and allowed life to happen?

  • Why You Feel Alone with Your Feelings and Why You Never Are

    Why You Feel Alone with Your Feelings and Why You Never Are

    Man Alone

    “Life is actually really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” ~Confucius

    There were times when I felt that my thoughts had complete control over my life. I could convince myself of anything, really. My thoughts would rarely lift me up and, instead, convince me I would fail.

    I would fail at relationships. I would fail at my job. I told myself I was a failure.

    I honestly believed that I was the only one who experienced this level of personal rejection. Of course, I knew that it wasn’t unique to me because I knew other people struggled with self-confidence.

    Yet, the people in my life never talked about their lives in this way.

    After years of feeling like this, I began to convince myself that I was indeed alone—nobody else could possibly have these crazy thoughts and feelings. As an introvert, even I wasn’t always comfortable talking about it.

    I wanted to know why my stomach always hurt before I talked in front of people, why I always sweat when I was nervous, and why I pushed people away, even though I desperately wanted to feel connected.

    As I discovered more about myself, I realized that I interpreted my emotions rather than actually experiencing them.

    For instance, I continue to get nervous before I formally speak in front of people. I don’t know if this will ever go away. As an introvert, it’s just not something I’m 100% comfortable with. In the past, I would turn this fear into a story.

    “I shouldn’t be nervous. I am better than this. I hate when I get this nervous because everyone will notice. I will look like a fool.” You tell yourself this often enough and you start to believe these stories. It becomes your identity.

    Now, I accept that I am fearful before giving a speech. That’s okay. It’s a human experience and it’s uncomfortable for people like me.

    I notice it and experience it for what it is. I don’t allow myself to make it something it’s not, and the nerves no longer snowball into the sweats, the stomach pain, the anxiety.

    I did this for so long because I couldn’t accept who I was. I wanted to be something I wasn’t. I marveled at people who appeared to be so confident and put together all the time. I wanted to be someone else, and I beat myself up whenever I didn’t meet those standards.

    The mind is a powerful thing—we all know this—so powerful it starts to analyze our basic human feelings, emotions, and experiences.

    Over time, this can cause debilitating anxiety or depression.

    After years of feeling this way, I got to a point where I was just exhausted. It was my own rock bottom.

    As an introverted guy, the biggest lesson I had to learn was that it is okay to feel emotions. That was the first step.

    At a deeper level though, it is also human to feel anything. This is just as natural as breathing, swallowing, chewing, and sneezing.

    I had to stop trying to control it all.

    It doesn’t mean I go around crying, laughing, and yelling at the world around me. I am just aware of my emotions, simply for what they are. Not intellectually aware, experientially aware.

    When we become aware of our feelings, thoughts no longer have the power to interpret them into something they’re not.

    I now understand that this is what connects all of us as people—our innate ability to experience life rather than analyze it.

    We are all capable of this.

    Despite this, why do we default to analyzing rather than experiencing our emotions? For one, I don’t believe we are taught and encouraged to talk about emotions. As a guy, this especially rings true. We are told from a young age to just buck up and figure it out.

    To the best of our ability at the time, we also try and protect ourselves from the world around us. Perhaps it was something we learned to cope as a child or young adult. The emotions were there but for whatever reason, we didn’t allow ourselves or were unable to experience them.

    But those emotions don’t just go away. So we busy ourselves to take our minds off of it. We rationalize how we feel (yet don’t actually feel). We overeat to mask how we are really feeling. Our stomachs continue to churn. We don’t sleep as well. We joke about our situation to make us feel better.

    We consciously or unconsciously build layer upon layer of protection, which only covers up what’s really going on.

    Only when we begin to peel away these layers and experience the pain we’ve covered up for so long can we begin to heal. The intellectual mind cannot do this because it continues to want to control and interpret how we feel.

    The more I peeled away these layers, the more I was able to let go of who I thought I should be and to experience the pain I’d held on to for so long.

    I thought I should be more successful. I thought I should be more driven. I thought I should be a better son, athlete, student, friend, and boyfriend. It was never enough.

    Only when I experienced the pain of the shame I felt as a younger guy, who made mistakes but did the best he could at the time, was I able to let go of that pain.

    The fascinating thing is after I experienced that pain, it no longer ate away at me. There was nothing to hide or cover up anymore. It was so simple. All of that pain was simply gone after years of it buried beneath protective layers of security.

    I let go of what should have been and experienced what was.

    The more you let go of control, the more you are able to experience an abundant life. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, the happy, the sad—they’re all part of the human experience. When we allow ourselves to experience all of it, we can then set ourselves free.

    We no longer act from a place of fear but rather a place of awareness.

    Start by allowing yourself to sit with your thoughts. As a thought arises, observe it for what it is—a thought, something this is not a part of your identity. Detach yourself from thoughts and, as you begin to separate thought from experience, you will see the two are vastly different.

    So, there really isn’t anything important in life to we need to make sense of, intellectually. Life is what it is and how we experience it. We need to remind ourselves of this:

    It’s perfectly okay to be human.

    Remember there are many other people out there struggling with some of the same things you are. After all, we are all human.

    We are not alone.

    Man sitting alone image via Shutterstock

  • Accepting, Feeling, and Releasing Painful Emotions

    Accepting, Feeling, and Releasing Painful Emotions

    “Eventually you will come to realize that love heals everything, and love is all there is.” ~Gary Zukav

    Last year I developed some unexplained symptoms that could be likened to IBS, Chron’s disease, or even morning sickness (although I wasn’t pregnant, so there was no promise of a baby to make it all worth it).

    I had no idea what caused it, why it was there, or what to do about it.

    This shook me because I’d always had a strong intuitive connection with my body and I had always been healthy, but now when I asked my body a question, there was just silence.

    It was as if a thick fog had parked right between my inner wisdom and me, blocking my channel of intuitive guidance about what to eat, what to avoid, and what was really going on underneath it all. It was so quiet—there weren’t even any crickets!

    With my intuition evading me, I was stuck in the surface level “real” world to manage it. I was dealing with debilitating symptoms every day that were, bit by bit, wearing down my strength and self-control, until one day I crumbled in a heap.

    I had decided to practice what I preach and do something nourishing, despite how terrible I felt. So I got my yoga mat with the intention of pushing through my discomfort to do something that would probably make me feel better. As soon as I felt that mat underneath my feet, I felt safe, I felt nurtured, I felt held.

    I had entered a place where I could go deep and be real. I wasn’t expecting my yoga mat to hold me like the compassionate embrace of a lifelong friend, but that’s exactly what it did, and I surrendered to it.

    Once the flow of tears began, there was no way I could stop it. The pain of the everyday struggle, the expectations I had of myself as a mother, the disappointment I felt from not being capable of living my life to the fullest, and the resentment I had toward “everyone else,” who could eat what they wanted without suffering the way that I was… it all came out.

    And underneath it was frustration, then anger, then self-hatred, then rage, then emptiness, silence, and peace.

    I didn’t have any revelations as to what this was all about or how to fix it, but I simply allowed myself to release everything that had been building up inside of me. And just when I thought the tears were done, more would flow. I screamed, I pounded the mat, and I breathed deeply until only peace remained.

    Here’s what I took away from that experience.

    1. Trust is essential.

    Because my intuition went quiet, I stopped trusting myself. I had forgotten that my body was communicating with me in the only way that it could. I didn’t think to look for the lesson or meaning in it all.

    Once I had released all my tears and pain, my sense of self-trust returned and I was able to bring myself back to a space of gratitude and openness.

    Trusting that there is something to gain from your experience will help you to remain open to it rather than feeling bad about it.

    2. It’s okay to cry.

    Crying is not a sign of weakness but rather a sign of strength, self-respect, and love.

    You need to honor your urges to cry. Not only does it clear and release anything that you’ve been holding in, crying also connects you with the present and allows you to be your most authentic self, even if you’re alone like I was.

    3. Self-compassion is a game-changer.

    Once I let out all of the self-hatred that I had been holding onto, I made space for self-compassion.

    I spoke lovingly to myself, I acknowledged the challenges that I had been facing, and I offered myself the nurturing and love that I had previously been searching for outside of myself.

    Being your own friend is a powerful skill that can keep you strong and grounded in the face of adversity.

    4. There’s no need to fear what’s inside of you.

    It might seem dark and terrifying when you look at what you’re hiding inside of you, but there is not a single part of you that won’t benefit from being loved, accepted, and respected.

    Shed some light onto the darkness; give each part of you a voice to express its needs, its pain, and its story. Once you realize that your inner demons cannot hurt you, you take away the power they once held over you and can start loving yourself unconditionally.

    5. We all need a sacred space to be vulnerable.

    We all need a space where we can explore, accept, heal, and (learn to) love ourselves.

    For me it was the yoga mat, but for you it may be your meditation cushion, your local park or beach, or even in your bed.

    Find or create a loving and unconditional space where you can be raw, honest, and vulnerable. Visit it whenever you get a sense that something within is ready to shift and release.

    Surrender into the strong support of your sacred space, and remember that it’s safe to let your feelings flow. It may even be the best thing for you.

  • What Helped Me Forgive Myself and Honor My Needs

    What Helped Me Forgive Myself and Honor My Needs

    “To forgive is to set a prisoner free and realize that prisoner was you.” ~Lewis B. Smedes

    Have you ever tried to forgive someone who hurt you, and despite your best efforts, it was just too hard? So you beat yourself up because you were not able to forgive, and the pain was still there?

    I spent years trying to forgive others.

    I tried to forgive a family member for abusing me as a child.

    I tried to forgive my primary school teacher of seven years for constantly hammering that even though I was a straight-A student, I wasn’t allowed to be me, and I needed to change myself so I could be accepted and loved.

    I tried to forgive those who indirectly made me understand that their lives would have been so much better if I hadn’t been there, or if I would have been a boy.

    Although I had developed a strong resilience, which allowed me to build strength from these negative life experiences, they had left their mark, and I felt pain, resentment, and a feeling of injustice.

    I had been taught that I should forgive others for everything they did to me. But I couldn’t get out of my head and back to my heart, and I couldn’t manage to forgive them.

    I was still feeling stuck, trapped, and unable to let go, move forward, and honor my needs. I let the regrets of wasted time consume me.

    I realized I was making everything so hard on myself because I felt guilty.

    If these people had taken advantage of me in one form or another, somehow, to me, it meant that I did something wrong, that I was broken, that something was wrong with me, and that I didn’t deserve anything better.

    I just clutched to my guilt so tightly.

    And one day, I had a breakthrough.

    I realized that I needed to offer forgiveness, not to others, but to myself.

    I had no control over the decisions, thoughts, and actions of others, but I did have control over the blame I was placing on myself.

    It was time to let go of the pain, heal old wounds, move forward, and finally nurture myself and honor my needs.

    The first step I took on the path to self-forgiveness was to accept reality without blaming others.

    I would have loved to change the past and rewrite my history, but that was not possible. So instead of accepting reality and moving forward, I was drowning myself in blame and resentment.

    I couldn’t go on like that. I needed my life to move forward. I had created a lot of struggles and suffering for myself because I spent too much energy resisting the present moment.

    I needed to accept the reality I’d been given. Once I did, I was finally able to release all of the anger, blame, and resentment that had been built up in my mind and body.

    To me, accepting reality is a crucial step toward self-acceptance. And self-acceptance is one of the first steps toward self-forgiveness.

    The second step for me was to stop blaming myself and feeling guilty.

    Most of us have been raised in a culture that stresses dichotomous thinking—good or bad, young or old, guilty or not guilty…

    And once we stop blaming others, we usually blame ourselves. It must be someone’s fault, right?

    I blamed myself for letting this family member abuse me as a child.

    I blamed myself for not being able to change myself so I could be accepted and loved.

    I blamed myself for having made a financial mistake and not knowing how I would get out of debt.

    Once I had reflected on my negative experiences and identified what exactly I was blaming myself for and what exactly I was feeling guilty about, I took the next step and declared I was no longer going to blame myself for all this.

    This was extremely liberating.

    I was now accepting reality without blaming anyone. I was one step away from being able to forgive myself, let go, and honor my needs.

    The third step toward self-forgiveness was to love myself fully.

    I knew if I wanted to let go of my past experiences, I had to work on loving myself.

    I managed to increase my self-love and forgive myself by consistently doing three simple things every day of the week.

    First, I started a gratitude journal, and at the end of each day, I wrote five different things I was grateful for. It helped me see my life and myself through a new, more compassionate lens.

    Then, I kept a list of all nice things that people said to me. I was mindful of thank-yous and compliments, and instead of focusing on the people who didn’t seem to appreciate me, I focused on those who I knew did love me.

    Eventually, I repeatedly said to myself, “I am valued, I am enough, I am not damaged or broken, and I love myself just the way I am.”

    Once you start looking, you can find so many reasons to love yourself fully. And the more love you feel for yourself, the easier it becomes to forgive your past.

    I was finally ready to forgive myself wholeheartedly…

    I forgave myself for making mistakes.

    I forgave myself for allowing negative energies into my life and letting those sit in my body for all these years.

    I forgave myself for not being who others wanted me to be.

    I forgave myself for allowing outside circumstances and people to dictate my self-worth.

    I forgave myself for not trusting my inner wisdom to know better.

    And most importantly, I forgave myself for carrying the weight of my guilt and self-blame.

    Forgiving myself wholeheartedly was liberating. It allowed me to be compassionate, accept myself, and let go of painful memories.

    Sure, I still doubt my worth sometimes, I still re-live some memories I wish I could just erase from my mind, and I still worry about not pleasing other people and being rejected. But I feel free, joyful, and whole.

    By forgiving myself, I was finally able to honor many of my needs that I had ignored before, even if it’s still a work in progress in some areas.

    I was able to honor my need to feel great in my skin and accept my body.

    I was able to honor my need to be myself and be loved for who I am, not for what I do.

    I was able to honor my need to let go and not feel like I had to be hyper-vigilant and in control all the time.

    You can do this too.

    If you’ve made financial mistakes, if you struggle with food, or if you feel resentment and anger toward other people in your life, take these three steps: stop blaming others, stop blaming yourself, and learn to love yourself fully.

    Your life will never be the same.

    Self-forgiveness will allow you to create more peaceful relationships going forward, it will boost your mood so you’ll no longer experience depressive feelings, and it will reduce stress in your life. You’ll feel better, and you’ll also be healthier.

    To me, self-forgiveness is one of the most meaningful lessons life has to offer. And I am so grateful for those times of trial.

    Don’t waste another day of your life.

    Forgive yourself and live fully!

  • Overcoming the Fear of Being Judged for Your Mistakes

    Overcoming the Fear of Being Judged for Your Mistakes

    Sad Woman

    “Live your life for you not for anyone else. Don’t let the fear of being judged, rejected, or disliked stop you from being yourself.” ~Sonya Parker

    For years I struggled with a nagging feeling of guilt. This was not for actual things I did, but just a feeling that anytime something went wrong in my life, it was somehow my fault.

    I came from a religious family of eleven kids. My dear mom, bless her heart, occasionally punished us all because she just didn’t have the time in her busy day to find the perpetrator.

    My older brother, the perpetrator of most of our punishments, found this all to be quite humorous. The rest of us did not.

    Was it our desperate appeals to him to be better behaved, or our mom’s reaction whenever she learned of his latest subterfuge that he found humorous? Such are the trials of growing up in a big family.

    It didn’t help that the nuns in school reinforced the necessity of admitting guilt and the importance of being in need of exoneration. If something bad happened to you, like skinning your knee, well it was just God punishing you for something you hadn’t been caught at.

    One would normally think that guilt stemmed from believing you might have hurt someone. It took me some time to figure out the reasons for my feelings I hadn’t hurt anyone, but I felt guilty.

    How Do We Untangle This Web of Guilty Feelings?

    I wanted to know why I was hanging on to these guilty feelings. Self-awareness is about setting aside things that others have said about you and paying attention instead to what you know about yourself to be true.

    I figured my guilt was very much attached to what I believed others might think of me.

    I was using guilt as a defense mechanism. I would blame myself first, hoping to find and correct my mistakes before anyone else found out. I hoped that extra alertness might allow me to avoid criticism and judgments from others.

    My true nemesis was the fear of being criticized. Keeping a ledger of past mistakes was my way of being vigilant to crush any mistakes before anyone found out.

    My ledger of mistakes: the things that I did or said because it was easy and convenient, what I did not do or say when I could have, blaming others in my thoughts or not showing kindness when I could have. I even kept track of my embarrassing moments so I would never do them again.

    I worried that if my mistakes were exposed, I would be judged, rejected, or disliked for them. And so I punished myself for them before anyone else could.

    This fear of being exposed led me to walk through life feeling guilty for who I was and for all the mistakes I’d made. These fears were controlling my life.

    I believed and feared that these mistakes were who I was, and if they were exposed, I would be exposed.

    So How Did We Conquer Those Fears?

    Fears are challenges that put us out of our comfort zone, and they are opportunities for real growth.

    I found my growth happening when I mustered up the courage to experiment. What would happen if I lived my day the way I wanted? What if I stopped worrying about others judging me?

    I started just doing my best.

    I sought out new skills when I wanted my work to be better, just to make it pleasing to me. I stopped trying to impress others and hide my faults. I let them see me so I could understand and get to know them better and learn from their experiences.

    Most of the time, I wasn’t judged or disapproved by others. Guess who was the biggest judge? Me!

    By facing my fears, I reduced them significantly and could live with them. Knowing that others didn’t criticize me was not enough. I still had to resolve the negative self-judgments I still thought about myself if I was going to really accept myself and be free of the guilt.

    So How Does One Get to Self-Acceptance?

    Accepting ourselves is about recognizing that we’ve done things that we are not proud of, and this is part of being human. There is a process for dealing with regrets: sorrow with compassion, remorse, then leading to forgiveness.

    That same process works for resolving those nagging guilty feelings for doing or not doing things that don’t have apparent negative impact on others. I’m talking about those times when I had negative thoughts or opinions about others, yet didn’t express them, or when I didn’t take a higher road when I could have.

    Our guilt becomes this reservoir of mistakes we made in life. Mistakes are part of being human. Sometimes we are just not prepared for situations.

    Having compassion for my humanity, I forgave myself for my mistakes. This opened me up to genuine acceptance for the human that I am, and that we all are.

    I got to know my real self. The real me was that person who took the risk of being judged by others.

    I was not my mistakes. I started getting to like me.

    Then something unexpected….

    I can still remember this moment. I had this feeling of love for me—faults and all. I am talking about the kind of love that you feel for someone you love deeply. I had never before felt this way about myself.

    You can do this too.

    Time to Be Done With Feeling Guilty

    If guilty feelings are nagging at you, there is a way out. Be self-aware by knowing what is true about you. Get out of your comfort zone and face those fears of exposure.

    You can change and make it better. Forgive and accept yourself inside, for who you really are. Be free of guilt and be yourself. One day you’ll find yourself loving you.

    Sad woman image via Shutterstock

  • When the People We Love No Longer Exist

    When the People We Love No Longer Exist

    “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.” ~Steve Jobs

    A week ago a woman I loved died. She was a member of my family and had been dying for a while from bone cancer, so her death did not come as a surprise.

    I was traveling when I got the email, and I sat in Abu Dhabi airport surrounded by the banging and steps of people and grieved.

    Yes, I knew her death was imminent, but at a deeper level I found the news confusing. When I last visited her in her hospital room, her eyes were open and her breath constant; we chatted, she laughed, and we talked about seeing each other again.

    What was deeply confusing, and still is, is the fact that she will never exist again—not in the same form. Some believe she has gone to another world, some believe she now exists as particles, but the reality is that her shape, the twinkle in her eyes, the way she held my hand will never exist again.

    All of us who have gone through loss will understand this deep confusion. How can something no longer exist? How can one not call or talk to or hug a person anymore within the space of a day?

    My husband and I sat on the pews in the small suburban church and listened to beautiful things said about her.

    People spoke of her struggles with self-doubt and loss, as well as her ability to inspire and support women to find their own path. She could be conflicted and generous at the same time—she was human.

    A friend of mine once said that light on fractured glass is more arresting than glass that is robust and flat. I couldn’t have agreed more, as the words in the church about the woman we had lost recreated her and we could feel her living, just for that moment, in all her light and shade.

    From everything I’ve read coping with grief, it’s all about letting it out, about not having expectations about when the grief will end, about communicating about it with family and friends who understand.

    I let it out yesterday; I couldn’t help myself. The real rain came, though, when I looked over at the coffin and knew there was a woman inside, and her lack of life, of existence, overwhelmed me.

    So, how do we process the confusion that occurs when people that are special to us are no longer in our lives? Death is just one way these people can disappear; they can also disappear through relationship breakups, geographical separation, or they can simply vanish.

    The overwhelming feeling I get is one of too much space. It becomes very obvious that that person occupied some space within my existence and the vacuum is very hard to bear.

    In practical terms, it may be that I saw that person once a week, once a month, once a year, and now my dance card is not as full because they are no longer on the floor. Even if they had a negative impact on my life, I miss them, some parts of them.

    I guess the comforting thing I’ve learned from experience is that eventually others will come onto the floor, that the vacuum is not permanent, that each person who comes and goes brings more and more to my life and my understanding of existence.

    As Salman Rushdie writes in Midnight’s Children, “I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’m gone which would not have happened if I had not come.”

    When the people I care about no longer exist, I have the perfect opportunity to reflect on how I can integrate the best parts of them into my life.

    The woman I loved and lost was passionate about empowering women. I have carried the same flame, and her death inspires me to work even harder to encapsulate women’s voices into my writing.

    As a counselor, teacher, and friend, she also cared a lot about people and always wanted to help. When she spent the last year in and out of hospital, the love that she gave came back in spades with the constant stream of visitors and helpers by her bedside.

    Watching this really taught me the value of giving, not only to help others but also to develop relationships that were more about creation than destruction.

    We also have a choice to address the question of existence more broadly when people we were close to no longer exist in our lives.

    The older I get, the more I understand that existence really is very temporary. It makes sense, then, that the temporary nature of existence means that existence is, in itself, quite extraordinary.

    As science writer Lewis Thomas wrote, “Statistically, the probability of any one of us being here is so small that the mere fact of our existence should keep us all in a state of contented dazzlement.”

    We can choose to ignore just how temporary our lives are, or, we can choose to say, “Well, I’m only here for a bit so I’d better get on with it and work out how I want to live and give.”

    Steve Jobs said, “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.”

    Steve’s understanding of the temporary nature of existence motivated him to create an extraordinary life, and, ironically enough, he will live on through his creations for years to come.

    It’s the day following the funeral. There’s a bunch of bright purple, pink, white, and yellow flowers on my desk. Someone left them at the front of the church because they wanted to do something tangible that indicated just how much they appreciated the woman’s life.

    In writing this I’m also doing the same. My gift of flowers, of words, for the woman who no longer exists, but who is now a part of this temporary life that is extraordinary just because it is.

  • Learning to Let Go and Trusting That We Will Be Okay

    Learning to Let Go and Trusting That We Will Be Okay

    Man Jumping

    “You must learn to let go. Release the stress. You were never in control anyway.” ~Steve Maraboli

    While going through some major life changes, I am finally learning to let go. I am learning to relinquish control. And I am learning that everything will be okay in the end.

    I am in the middle of my first pregnancy. I thought I could control my body. I thought I could control my outcome.

    Something I regularly preach to anyone who will listen is that we can’t control the outcome of any situation. We can only control our actions.

    That means we can aim for a particular outcome, and do everything in our power to achieve it, but we cannot control what actually happens.

    We can’t control other people, the weather, bureaucracy, or anything else that is outside of ourselves. Obstacles will always get in our way, and we have no power over them.

    I have always considered myself a fairly fit and active person. I’ve competed in many ultramarathons and powerlifting competitions. I like to go hiking in technically challenging and precarious locations. But pregnancy took this all away from me.

    Working in the fitness industry, I am bombarded with what perfect fitness professionals look like and do. I see fabulously fit pregnant females lifting weights, running marathons, and doing all the things I enjoy doing. But my body just doesn’t want to cooperate.

    I only recently realized that I need to let go.

    I thought I could climb one more mountain before my body had enough, so I chose what I thought would be a relatively short and easy mountain to climb.

    Unfortunately, I completely forgot that my heart rate is now much higher, so I was getting puffed much earlier and had to walk much slower than usual.

    The mountain was very steep toward the top, and I was crawling up on feet and hands, with my awkward belly getting in the way. There were huge fallen trees strewn across my path, and I did my best to climb around, over, or through them.

    But 500 meters from the top of the mountain I got stuck. I was too short to climb over one fallen tree, and too big to climb through the gap where it had split.

    In ordinary circumstances, I would have climbed through and kept pushing until I reached the top. But this time I sat down and realized that the further up I went, the more difficult and uncomfortable sliding down I’d have to do on the return journey.

    My body was no longer the right shape for this sort of activity.

    I sat down and realized I no longer have complete control over my body. My body has control over me. I had to let something go.

    I let go of control over my body. I let go my ability to cover tough terrain. I let go of challenging adventures in the near future.

    I simply let go.

    And I realized that letting go is not so bad. Everything would be okay in the end.

    Later, I would be able to try these things again. I would try to teach my child about the great outdoors. One way or another, everything would be okay. I would be okay.

    I am also in the middle of renovating our house and looking for a new one. Again, I thought I could control the situation and the outcome.

    I thought that we would have a new house and have sold our current one by now. I even thought we would have a nursery set up by now.

    I have searched for houses, I have helped pack up and de-clutter our house, and my husband has done a lot of renovations. But I did not count on finding multiple faults in our house that need repairing. And I did not count on our dream house not showing up yet.

    I have controlled my own actions, and I did my best to control the outcome, but I discovered that I could not.

    So I sat down and I realized that it doesn’t matter where we live or when we move. The baby will come when it is ready, whether we are ready or not.

    Again, I had to let go. And I was set free. Free of control. Free of being perfect. And free of the future. All I can do is live in the present.

    There are so many things in life that we strive to control. We strive to control our future, our finances, our career, our relationships, and our lifestyle.

    We get stressed when obstacles prevent our complete control and things don’t work out as planned.

    Stress causes unhappiness, and no one wants to be unhappy.

    We can only control our actions and be happy and satisfied that our actions have taken us closer to our dream outcome. But in the end, the exact outcome may be slightly different, or not come to us as soon as we’d like.

    If we relinquish complete control over everything and everyone, then we can set ourselves free.

    We gain the ability to live in the present. And when we live in the present, we are able to think clearly. We can realize that we will be okay no matter what happens.

    If we don’t get our desired outcome, we can learn from the experience. We can try something different, and still aim toward a brighter future. There is always hope for us.

    I know that I can no longer physically challenge my body as much as I used to. But in a few months, or maybe even a few years, I can try again.

    I have also learned that although we have not found our next house yet, we can make do where we are now until we are able to move. It’s not our ideal situation, but we will continue to do what we can to move toward that.

    We keep learning, we keep growing, and we can be happy knowing that everything is okay, no matter how our journey pans out. It is quite liberating now knowing that we do not have to stress about losing control of the situation.

    We can only control our own actions, and by doing that, we can rest easy, knowing that in the end, we will be just fine. In the end, we will be better off for our experiences. In the end, everything will be okay.

    Man jumping image via Shutterstock

  • How to Stop Fearing the Worst and Worrying About “What Ifs”

    How to Stop Fearing the Worst and Worrying About “What Ifs”

    “Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.” ~Charles H. Spurgeon

    There’s nothing like a real health emergency for putting insignificant worries into perspective.

    By the time I was pregnant the second time, I had left my struggles with anxiety largely behind me. Having been to therapy years earlier to find coping mechanisms for managing my ever-present phobias, I was in a fairly good place when I learned I’d been given a second chance at having a child.

    But worry is as much as part of me as breathing, and having lost a pregnancy the year prior, I spent the first eight to ten weeks of the second one constantly preoccupied with the what-ifs that tend to haunt anxiety sufferers, even reformed ones like me.

    One day in week forty, after many hours of irregular contractions, something told me I needed to check myself into the hospital. It was a different feeling than the one I’d experienced during my panic attacks, which was always induced by the fight or flight response.

    It was calmer, and felt more peaceful. So I listened.

    Once I got there, the midwives discovered my blood pressure was 200/110 (stroke territory). I was in the middle of a hypertensive crisis caused by undiagnosed pre-eclampsia—a dangerous condition that affects a small percentage of pregnant women worldwide.

    They admitted me immediately, and a scene from an emergency room TV drama ensued. Machines screamed. Nurses ran. Doctors were paged. IV’s were administered.

    Between waves of doctors and nurses I learned that if they didn’t succeed in getting my blood pressure down soon, I could seize, stroke out, or suffer irreparable damage to my liver and kidneys.

    To further complicate matters, my son was starting to show some signs of distress, and I got the sense from the folks in scrubs around my bedside that they weren’t quite sure how to manage it.

    Through it all I remained surprisingly calm, somehow at peace with what was happening around me, despite the many hours I’d spent worrying about just such an event in the past. I felt saddened by the possibility of dying—or worse, losing my son—but not panicked or afraid.

    When my son was born, healthy and strong by emergency C-section, then I truly understood the futility of my past concern.

    Having survived the incident unscathed, I spent the next six years of my life working on building the skills that keep the time-suck that is anxiety from ever coming back.

    If I had to tell my past self something I’ve learned to prevent unnecessary suffering, it would go something like this:

    Don’t argue with a fool. (People may not know the difference).

    One piece of advice for anxiety sufferers I read and hear often is to take a deep breath and reassure yourself that you are safe, your anxiety can’t hurt you, and your fears are all in your head.

    Anxiety is irrational, and no amount of rational thinking will banish unnecessary worry or anxious thoughts. In fact, trying to fight irrational thinking with logic can be counterproductive and lead you down the rabbit hole of self-doubt.

    Instead, respond to irrational fears by accepting that there is a (however remote) possibility that what you fear may come to pass, but also trust that if it does, you will have the tools to manage it.

    Don’t ask others to argue with a fool.

    Mental illness is tough, and having support from friends and family is key to making it through unscathed to the other side.

    Asking your friends and families to tell you why your fears are unfounded and your worries are irrational is not asking for help—it’s asking for validation.

    Many of us suffering through anxiety believe that if we can’t trust our own logical arguments for why everything is going to be okay, maybe someone else can make it okay for us.

    This kind of behavior often serves to undermine your self-confidence and create codependent tendencies, since you’re relying (most often very ineffectively) on others to manage your anxiety for you.

    Find a more productive focal point.

    A few years before my pregnancy, when I was first treated for anxiety, my therapist taught me a trick I carry with me to this day.

    Anxiety needs a focal point, but with a little sleight of hand you can find one that is less disturbing than your worry.

    When embarking on a trip to Cabo for my friend’s wedding (I’m afraid to fly), she told me to wear the most uncomfortable outfit I could tolerate for the flight. I chose a tight, itchy strapless corset, and spent a good nine hours trying to fight the garment’s pinch.

    Guess what I wasn’t doing, though, while cursing my existence? Worrying about plane crashes.

    Over time, I’ve found many other tools to help me stay present and banish unnecessary concerns. If I have a legitimate worry, I take action to mitigate risks and try to move on with my life.

    If there’s nothing I can do, I occupy my mind with something else. I practice yoga. I wear itchy underwear. Most of all I trust. I trust that I can deal with any unexpected hurdles life might throw my way.

    And if for some reason I encounter one I can’t manage, it simply was meant to be, whether it’s what I want for my life or not.

    And then I move on and enjoy the moment. Or at least I try, anyway.

  • 7 Ways to Live a Less Fearful, More Peaceful Life

    7 Ways to Live a Less Fearful, More Peaceful Life

    Peaceful Man

    “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when adults are afraid of the light.” ~Adapted from Plato

    I was digging in my half-empty refrigerator one day, searching for leftovers, when my phone rang. I glared at it wondering who the hell had the nerve to interrupt my hunt for sustenance.

    I grabbed the phone with pure agitation and put it to my ear. On the other end of the line I heard a faint voice mutter the three most unforgettable words I had ever heard: “Dad is gone.”

    The faint voice belonged to my stepmom Rose. She told me that dad was headed for surgery that morning when he had a massive heart attack. She said that he sprang up in bed and reached out to her with his eyes stretched open in terror. And that was it. He was gone.

    As an anxious twenty-two-year-old, suffering wasn’t new to me, but this was different. It wasn’t long after my dad died that I spiraled into daily panic attacks and became a whimpering victim of anxiety.

    We all encounter fear sometimes—it’s normal. But I did it all wrong. I let it control my life. After my dad passed away, my days were usually filled with uncertainty, self-doubt, and misery.

    I later wondered if the same fate awaited me, to the point where I developed all kinds of phobias: health phobia, social phobia, and a crushing fear of death. I was truly lost.

    Fear became my new normal. I allowed my negative thoughts to shape my reality. I stopped believing in myself, in other people, in the future; all of it seemed meaningless.

    Over the years I struggled to tame my fears, and if I’m being totally honest, on some days I still struggle. The good news is that I don’t stay stuck like I used to.

    I’ve learned to understand my fears for what they really are, rather than what I imagine them to be. And I live with less fear every day because of seven rock solid tips that I learned after losing my dad.

    1. Relax.

    When we are fearful, we get tense without even knowing it. Learning how to let go of tension was a key factor in my recovery from fear and anxiety.

    I learned progressive muscle relaxation exercises and practiced daily. I learned that making peace with your body is a great way to make peace with your mind.

    2. Find your inner observer.

    I had no idea that I had one, but there is a part of the mind that is able to observe thoughts without judgment or expectation. Getting in touch with your inner observer weakens the power of fear and reduces “what if” thinking.

    Meditation is hands down one of the best ways to train yourself to identify and strengthen this part of your mind.

    3. Reframe.

    Words are powerful. The ones you use to describe life and all its challenges will not change what happens to you, but it can change how you feel about it.

    Instead of obsessing over my “palpitations,” I reframed this as “I’m nervous.” Reframing helped me to form positive perspectives about all kinds of stuff.

    4. Be mindful.

    When I was really anxious I lived in the past or the future. I totally forgot about living my life in the present. Take the time to enjoy today.

    5. Connect.

    Fear has a way of isolating us from ourselves and others. But it’s important to remember that connecting with other people is a vital part of a healthy life. Reach out!

    6. Challenge your fears.

    Do you want to know how absurd fear can be? I used to fear soft drinks! Well, actually, I was afraid of caffeine, but seriously. Challenging your fears builds self-confidence and over time ensures that you get to live the full version of your life.

    7. Be kind to yourself.

    There is a 100% chance that things won’t always go your way, including being afraid when you don’t want to be. Don’t punish yourself for being “stupid” or “weak,” though. It’s okay to be afraid sometimes. The question is: What are you going to do when fear comes to your doorstep?

    When I’d get anxious, it was because I didn’t believe that I had what I needed to be okay. But the truth is that we all do—somehow, someway, we always do.

    And therein lies the “secret” to living with less fear: the realization that you do have the means to weather any storm. That you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.

    Peaceful man image via Shutterstock

  • Letting Go of Guilt About What You “Should” Be Doing

    Letting Go of Guilt About What You “Should” Be Doing

    “Beware the bareness of a busy life.” ~Socrates

    It was December 26th. The day after Christmas. Ten days after my daughter’s first birthday. I was sitting on the floor coiling Christmas lights when I began to try to stand up. Almost immediately, I sunk back down to the floor.

    I was tired. I was physically tired. I was emotionally tired. Even my soul felt tired.

    In that moment, I couldn’t help but wonder, how did I get here? Sitting on the family room floor after two beautiful family events—my daughter’s birthday and Christmas—and my bones, heart, and soul ached so much that I considered whether I would be able to stand up again.

    Six weeks after the birth of my daughter, I chose to get back on a plane and continue building my consulting business. I spent the entire first year of her life haunted by my ego as I frantically tried to build my business, serve clients, and prove that I was needed and valuable.

    The image of a successful woman that I’ve always carried with me is that of a woman who is smart, driven, professionally accomplished. She is also a Mary Poppins mom, a loving wife, and a leader in the community. And she is someone who makes it all look effortless with her calm, impeccable style.

    That superwoman was the gold standard I’d spent years, and especially the last year, trying to live up to.

    But now, on December 26th, I’d awakened only to realize that as much as I was chasing the dream of the superwoman, I wasn’t living my life.

    I came crashing headfirst into my so called life.

    The words of Socrates, beware the bareness of a busy life, were suddenly eerily real.

    I knew it was time for me to make some significant changes in my life.

    As I reflected back on that year, I realized that I had been driven by guilt and its close cousin, the “shoulds.” Together, they ignited a fire in me that drove me, ultimately filling my hours and days with busyness.

    Guilt would rear its ugly head with questions like, “Am I working too much and not spending enough time with my family?” Or “Am I undermining my health and my family’s health because a significant majority of the food consumed in the household comes from a takeout box?” Perhaps, “Am I letting down my client because I did not immediately reply to their email?”

    All I needed to do was to spend a few minutes pondering questions like these, and I was deep in the black hole of guilt—insecure, confused, miserable, tired.

    But, when I paused on December 26th, I realized that it was my fears and anxieties that were driving me. My guilt was the manifestation of both. So, I decided it was time to face my fears by asking myself, “What is the worst thing that could happen? Is it real? Is it true?”

    As I looked at my fears—really looked at them—I realized that I had created elaborate, worst case scenarios that had no actual grounding in reality. They were neither real nor true.

    I did not know a business owner who had lost a client because they did not immediately respond to an email. And, upon reflection, if I did lose a client because of this, they probably weren’t an ideal client for me.

    Once I realized that fear and anxiety had been driving my guilt, it was time for me to take an honest look at its close cousin, the “shoulds.” The “should” are those voices in your head—and you know the ones—saying “You should be doing this,” “You should like that,” “You should spend time on this,” “You should stop doing that,” and so on and so forth—endlessly.

    There were numerous unspoken “shoulds” that had contributed to my busy, barren, exhausted life.

    The problem with the “shoulds” is that they can easily become a runaway train, completely derailing your ability to get clear and focused on what you need and desire.

    I realized that I needed to start saying “no.” Saying “no” to the voices inside my head, and maybe externally as well, and doing it in a new way—a way that I developed and like to call the “P.O.W.E.R. No.”

    Here’s how I use it:

    • Priorities: When that voice in your head tells you that should complete this task, lead another project, attend another meeting, or make cupcakes from scratch, evaluate the priority of that message. How does this “should” align to your priorities, the company’s strategic priorities, and/or your family’s priorities?
    • Opportunities: Explore the opportunities. What opportunities does this “should” create for you? Is there something that does actually need additional attention in your life? This “should” could be shining a light on something that you need to address.
    • Who: Who or what triggered this “should”? Was it an old script from childhood? Was it an ad in a magazine? Was it your colleague?
    • Expectations: Whose expectations are these really? Your manager? Your mother? Your spouse? Your child? Society’s?
    • Real: Get real.What is this “should” really about? Are there real priorities that are driving this “should”? Or are you taking on societal expectations that are not in alignment with your priorities?

    The P.O.W.E.R. No enables me to think carefully and critically about all of the “shoulds” so that I can consciously and thoughtfully respond. It has helped me get back in the driver’s seat of my life—conscious, intentional, and awake.

    I am so grateful that I crashed headfirst into my life on December 26th. In that moment of crisis and confusion, I was able to see clearly what drove me to such a barren, lifeless existence—and to know that I was capable of fixing it to restore personal and professional order for myself.

    Today, I have created a life that keeps me connected to my husband and daughter, laughing, running in the mornings, building my dream business, working simply and living fully.

    With that said though, I keep Socrates’ quote posted inside my desk drawer. It serves as a as a simple reminder of not only what’s at stake, but also, and more importantly, how far I’ve come to build a life I love.