Tiny Buddha

Category: love & relationships

  • Transforming Shame Into Love, One Good Deed At A Time

    Transforming Shame Into Love, One Good Deed At A Time

    Friends Laughing

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

    A few years back, I saw a sticker that read, “Be the change you wish to see in the world. –Gandhi.”

    My knee-jerk reaction was annoyance because the sticker was affixed to the bumper of a car that turned left in front of me. I was in the middle of a long stretch of bad days, so pretty much anything would have set me off.

    My search for happiness during that bleak period seemed fruitless, most likely because I didn’t know that happiness is not a destination where, upon arrival, we get to unpack our bags and stay forever. Happiness is just one of many “rest stops” on the highway of life.

    Just as rest stops are meant to come and go, so is happiness. We recognize a feeling in our conscious field, stretch into that feeling for as long as needed, and eventually, get back in the car and “drive” until the next one comes along. 

    Of course, there are other stops along the highway as well: loneliness, excitement, hope, anger, longing, etc.

    Eight months after ending a toxic relationship, I was spending an inordinate amount of time at the rest stop of shame.

    Not only had I allowed myself to stay in a relationship with someone who treated me poorly, I felt like a failure when the relationship ended. Seems I had special talent for beating myself up, both coming and going.

    Each one of our feelings speaks to us in its own unique voice. For me, shame sounded like, “You’re a loser!” or “You’re boring!” or, my personal favorite, “No one will ever love you!” The voices of our feelings can tell us things that feel true but, in fact, are not true. 

    When I heard the voice of shame, it took everything in my power to fight the urge to isolate from a world I was convinced I didn’t deserve to be part of.

    The world seemed pretty dark at the time and I worried I would never find the light again. (This is what hopelessness sounds like, by the way.)

    It was at precisely this time that Gandhi’s words came along, disguised as an obstacle in my path. Seeing those words reminded me that we cannot control how we feel; we can only control what we do with how we feel.  

    While I could not control shame, I could control how small I allowed it to make my world.

    I had no idea how to “make” myself happy, but I was desperate to try anything. I decided to conduct a little social experiment to test Gandhi’s words. Because I wanted to transform shame into happiness, despair into love, it was up to me to sprinkle happiness and love into the world.

    I called the experiment “The Mizvah Project” and challenged myself to perform at least one good deed per week. The good deed could be any action, small or large, as long as the net result would put more positive energy into the world.

    I wasn’t feeling too positively energetic at the time, so a week seemed plenty of time to do at least one small thing. (After all, starting from ground zero, there was nowhere to go but upward.)

    Once the goal was set, I noticed a slight positive shift in perspective. I was no longer wondering what in the world could make the pain stop, I was asking myself what I could do to bring more love into the world.

    The experiment began.

    If I appreciated something about someone, I went out of my way to tell them.

    If I knew someone who was struggling and needed a sympathetic ear, I called and listened.

    If I saw a piece of trash on the sidewalk, I picked it up.

    A friend needed help redesigning her office, so I did it.

    If my son was having a bad day, I surprised him at school with takeout from his favorite restaurant.

    Momentum didn’t take long to build, so I quickly bumped the target up to three mitzvahs per week. Augmenting the goal brought with it another noticeable shift in my worldview: a significant uptick in the compassion.  This was encouraging.

    If a car turned left in front of me, I told myself the driver was probably lost and needed help; if someone was rude at the grocery store, I assumed they were having a bad day and needed extra patience; if I screwed something up, I spoke nicely and encouragingly to myself.

    I began to believe—I mean in-my-core believe—that all human beings, even those who hurt us, are deserving of love and compassion.

    It’s been almost two years since The Mitzvah Project started. I am happy to report the shame that once felt like a constant companion has given way to greater connectedness with the people around me (whether they are trusted friends or complete strangers) and with myself. Overall, thankfully, I spend less time in despair and more time in contentment.

    It hasn’t been all wine and roses since I started the project—shame still shows up on the highway from time to time. The difference is, where I once would have addressed the voice of shame with harshness and criticism, I now speak to it in a kinder, gentler voice; as if I were a child in pain.

    Approaching our shame with loving curiosity eventually reduces shame’s need to manifest itself in ways that don’t serve us.

    Inside each of us is a deep well of love, patiently awaiting our own recognition. Mindful acts of kindness and compassion, however large or small, are the portals to this love. 

    If you have been spending more than your fair share of time at the rest stops of shame and despair, I urge you to consider asking yourself how you can bring to the world the change you wish to see.

    The voice of shame may try to convince you that you cannot do it. Shame lies; don’t believe it.

    It is easy to overlook the gifts we can offer the world, just by showing up and giving of ourselves.

    Perhaps there is someone in your life who could benefit from a pair of good ears and strong shoulders; a park in your neighborhood that could use a little clean sweep; an overdue birthday card that needs a stamp.  Start small and, if you feel inspired, work your way up from there.

    Shame can be stubborn and may stick around for a while, and that is okay. It is when we are visiting the rest stop of shame that we are most worthy of our own loving support. 

    When you feel the darkness, gently remind yourself that this is where you are right now; it is not who you are for always.

    Feelings are temporary—the next one will come along eventually. In the meantime, remind yourself that you are doing everything in your power to put loving energy into the world; this is enough.

    Healing can be found in unexpected places when we embody the change we hope to see.

    Acting in service of bringing love and light into the world helps us find the love and light within ourselves. One good deed at a time, today’s despair slowly transforms itself into tomorrow’s hope.

    Friends laughing image via Shutterstock

  • 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.

  • How to Free Yourself from Bitterness by Forgiving Others

    How to Free Yourself from Bitterness by Forgiving Others

    Free Woman

    “Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude.” ~Martin Luther King Jr.

    “Stop the world, I want to get off!” I felt like screaming this phrase at the top of my lungs during a difficult period of my life. Obviously, stepping off terra firma into outer space was not an option; what I desperately needed was to be free of chronic fatigue, stress, anxiety, and negative emotions and behaviors.

    Sleepless nights spent rehashing painful events past and present also needed to end.

    Leading up to this period, I had struggled through a lengthy and emotional divorce proceeding and, along with my children, had been dealing with the aftermath of betrayal. Circumstances leading to the divorce from my husband dictated that I be the primary custodian of our children even though we shared joint custody.

    I had been a stay-at-home mom but now needed to return to work. I found a full-time job with flexible hours, and things were going fairly well. I was determined to make the best of this new life.

    And then my ex-husband took my son away—something so painful for me at the time that I could barely breathe. My youngest son was persuaded by his father to move out of my home to live full-time with him.

    The only consolation was that we lived in the same small town. I wasn’t prepared for this move and the potential implications. Then came another blow—my ex-husband took my son and moved out of town.

    In the face of another loss and what would become estrangement from my son, I filled with resentment. I used up tremendous amounts of energy trying to keep my emotions under control.

    Angry actions and words burst forth randomly. Before long, resentment grew into an ugly root of bitterness. I didn’t understand this metamorphosis or my inability to contain my anger.

    Bitterness is characterized by intense antagonism or hostility. It is toxic, self-destructive, and hurtful to others in our sphere. If the root is not cut out, it will spread and choke joy and contentment right out of our lives.

    You can unintentionally make yourself bitter in various ways:

    Stuffing it

    Following a hurtful experience, we move on without resolution, determined to leave it in the past. We decide to suffer in silence. We may even tell ourselves we don’t care. Resentment builds and beckons bitterness.

    Wallowing in it

    We can choose to nurture the pain of an offense, allowing it to fester into a giant open wound. We make sure that others realize we have been deeply wounded. This victim mentality oozes bitterness.

    Hanging on to it

    It’s possible that the offending party has asked for forgiveness. If our response was a mere, “Okay,” or a less-than-heartfelt (lame), “I forgive you,” the door to bitterness is propped open by resentment and an unwillingness to let go.

    All these behaviors are poison to the soul.

    How to know if you have morphed into a bitter old biddy:

    1. You exhibit undesirable behaviors such as impatience, caustic comments, cynicism, a judgmental attitude, and a lack of compassion.

    2. You realize that your behaviors are hurting those around you. Bitterness will inevitably rise to the top of our resentment pots and spill out all over undeserving bystanders.

    3. You re-live past hurts, keeping old issues alive; you fantasize about how things could have played out differently and picture the offender getting what he/she deserves.

    When I examined my behaviors and thoughts, I realized that I desperately did not want to be the bitter, angry person I had become.

    How it’s possible to forgive people when you have been devastated by their actions:

    Forgiving can seem like a big hurdle to jump. You may rather hold on to an old wound and refuse to forgive because the offender doesn’t deserve it, has not sought forgiveness, or demonstrated remorse. We can always find justification for refusing to forgive.

    An alternative is to pursue the process of letting go of the grievance. Perhaps you come to realize you played a part in what happened. Or you may develop a degree of compassion for the offender if you objectively consider their point of view.

    If there is absolutely no justification for what happened, you may take pity on a person who is so emotionally bankrupt that they willingly hurt others.

    It is a process and will take time, but the act of letting go in order to forgive is essential to your well-being.

    I would encourage you to count the cost of withholding forgiveness and then consider the following truths:

    1. Forgiveness is intentional, not a feeling born out of emotion, but rather a firm, once-and-for-all commitment. Waiting until you feel like forgiving or until you receive a request for forgiveness may never happen. It’s up to you.

    2. Forgiveness doesn’t hinge on the subsequent behavior of the offender. When we suffer a wrong, we choose to forgive and live in the freedom of forgiveness, or we refuse to forgive and live in bondage to bitterness.

    Maya Angelou once said: “It’s one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, to forgive. Forgive everybody.”

    I chose forgiveness. I listed the still hurtful offenses of my ex-husband and one by one sincerely forgave him for each act. A heaviness that had been lingering over my soul lifted. It was liberating. Before long, I began to feel good about myself again.

    How you can navigate the storms in your life by cultivating a constant attitude of forgiveness:

    Maintain a few helpful ground rules:

    1. Try to forgive minor offenses by the time your head hits the pillow at the end of each day.

    2. If you have a mental list of unresolved past grievances, consider each one and forgive those involved.

    3. Choose to forgive without waiting for an apology. It also helps to remember times when someone forgave you—it’s humbling.

    4. Don’t allow your mind to dwell on previously forgiven offenses; you risk opening the door to resentment and bitterness a second time.

    You can experience the rich rewards of forgiveness.

    A forgiving attitude allows you to soar above painful memories and live life fully in the present.

    You will experience increased authenticity in friendships and more joy, intimacy, and fulfillment in close relationships.

    Guard these rewards carefully—no matter how deeply you are hurt or offended, do not allow bitterness the opportunity to take root within you.

    Woman in field image via Shutterstock

  • The Key to Finding Your Ideal Partner in Life

    The Key to Finding Your Ideal Partner in Life

    Silhouette of a Couple

    “The most perfect relationship is the one that supports you in fulfilling your destiny—the one that empowers you to be everything you are meant to be in this world and beyond.” ~Jan H. Stringer

    As I was sitting up in my bed, reviewing my “Ideal partner wish list” from six years ago, I was a little appalled. I had no idea how much I had been influenced by Hollywood when it came to identifying what I wanted in an ideal partner. It was watermarked all over my wish list. It was hard to ignore.

    There was an undertone of entitlement in my wishes. They sounded more like demands than requests or desires.

    My list looked like I was ordering a custom healing balm to soothe my loneliness and lack of self-worth. It didn’t look like I wanted a partner to enhance my experience of life and reach deeper levels of intimacy with.

    I used to believe that if two people loved each other, things would work out. As I got older and wiser, I understood that the “love” they referred to was not the kind I had known: demanding, repressing, and controlling.

    It was the kind that encompasses self-love and respects each person’s desire to be themselves. I didn’t even know what that kind of real, mature love looked like.

    I grew up on romantic movies with happy endings and romance novels where unbridled passion takes over logic. In those movies, no matter how difficult the circumstances around the couple were, they would somehow resolve those issues and walk off into the sunset to live happily ever after.

    The books I was reading followed the same scripts. I allowed these stories to settle in my mind and heart as truth, as something I should expect—every time.

    After seeing my belief system, expectations, and how I approached relationships, the reality of it all sat in my stomach for a couple of days. It was no surprise that I had pretty tumultuous relationships since writing that list.

    Naturally, I decided to write a new list. I wanted to see how far I had come, if at all. At the last minute, I heard the voice in my head saying, “Write it in a way that reflects self-love.” So I complied.

    This time, the items on my list seemed far from the requests of an unripe princess who is throwing a temper tantrum. They came from a place of knowing myself deeply and wanting to give myself nothing less than the best.

    I knew my unhealed places and my must-haves based on my core values. By now, I had had enough experiences and relationships to know which qualities I need my partner to have for the relationship to not take away from my existing happiness, and contribute to my growth as a human being.

    It took me a long time but I get it now: A partner is not a cure for all my problems, or for how good I feel about myself. He is only responsible for his half: his happiness and his choices. He is off the hook from the responsibility of making me happy.

    Yet, I let myself desire what I desire. For instance, historically, I am attracted to men who can fix anything around the house and find ingenious ways to overcome a problem they encounter while doing that. It’s sexy. I desire that. I enjoy that. But my happiness does not depend on it.

    There is even a bigger, unexpected benefit to the new version filtered through self-love: this new list feels real, achievable, and believable to me. Because it is based on truth I have gathered about myself. This, of course, increases its power and my faith in it even more.

    Since I wrote my new list almost three months ago, I feel relaxed in the knowledge that the right partner will show up when he is due. Not a minute sooner or later. And I have no control over that.

    I kick back and live my life, enjoy relationships, grow through them, and do not make the guys I date the potential father of my children right away. I let them reveal who they are and I reveal who I am in time, and see if there is enough overlap for us to continue.

    If you had told me two years ago that I could relax into the arms of the Universe to lead me to my ideal partner, I would not have believed you.

    I no longer play games or shape-shift to gain and sustain someone’s interest and love. Even though the price of this wisdom was high, I still feel grateful for all my heartaches and disappointments. Through my experiences, I found invaluable pieces of me that I will never give away.

    If I am here today, enjoying the peace of this knowing, anyone can get here. Here are a few steps to get you going in that direction.

    1. Instead of worrying about how you’re pleasing your partner, your boss, or your friends, start paying attention to your own emotional responses to life.

    See what excites you. What kind of a life do you imagine having if all your wishes came true? Get a little notebook to carry with you at all times and write down everything about you.

    “I find crop circles fascinating,” “I don’t enjoy cooking except for when I invite company over for dinner,” “My dad calls my mom at work every day. I like that. And so does she.” Get to know you. That is the gateway to knowing what to look for in a partner who is ideal for you.

    2. Pay attention to how you meet your own emotional needs.

    What makes you feel cared about? What pisses you off to no end? What do you do when you feel sad, lonely, or desperate? Who do you share your joys with? What kind of a response do you like to get for them? How do you find inspiration in life? What takes away your trust and what keeps it strong?

    Knowing the answers to these questions will help you know what would keep you happy or what would not take away from the happiness that you create for yourself.

    3. Imagine that you are a non-judgmental secret self-love agent and your job is to provide a report of your findings of this inner research.

    Write this report on yourself from a place of getting to know the person who has lived on this planet, in this body all these years. It is meant to be a loving mirror of who you are, what tickles you, and what takes away your joy.

    4. Write your new “ideal partner” wish list based on the person you know yourself to be.

    Create an avatar for the partner who would complement you and who can support you in becoming the man/woman you are here to be.

    Change and embellish this process as you like and don’t pressure yourself. It could take days or weeks to complete. Allow yourself to enjoy the process of getting to know yourself. Write this new list as a celebration of who you are based on what you find out, accept, and love about yourself. That combination is irresistible!

    Couple silhouette via Shutterstock

  • 3 Tips to Help You Stop Saying Things You Regret

    3 Tips to Help You Stop Saying Things You Regret

    Woman with hand over her mouth

    “If you propose to speak, always ask yourself, is it true, is it necessary, is it kind.” ~Buddha

    I initially saw this quote and, in true ego-first fashion, thought of my kids: this’ll be perfect for them. I’ll put it up in the kitchen as a regular reminder to stop pestering each other.

    But then, something a bit deeper poked me gently. Riiight, just for the kids, is it? You’ve got this mastered, then. I guess my true self is not afraid to use sarcasm when it needs to.

    My true self was right (as it always is). When I began to think about those small regrets that plague my running thoughts, so many of them came about because I didn’t adhere to the Buddha’s sage advice.

    Here are a few examples that spring to mind:

    The times I’ve blurted and blathered random nonsense to other parents while waiting for my kids to appear at the school gate.

    The times I’ve made a negative comment about someone.

    The words I’ve chosen when pestering my kids to get things done.

    All my many miserable rants about the usual annoyances in life.

    When I thought about it, I decided there are common themes to the things I say which I later regret. They usually fit into one of three categories:

    • I speak to avoid the discomfort of silence.
    • I speak to unload an ego-driven thought.
    • I speak with negative emotion like frustration or anger.

    Let’s drill down to see where each of these breaks one of the precepts of speaking only good words.

    I speak to remove the discomfort of silence.

    So many times I’ve been in the presence of people when there is an uncomfortable silence and I am desperate to break it. But why? And is it really uncomfortable, or is that just me?

    Inevitably, I end up speaking things that may well be true and kind, but are certainly not necessary. And I end up feeling like a blathering fool.

    Speaking just for the sake of speaking doesn’t help. And sometimes it can hurt, if I’m speaking in a rush, without thinking. So, the next time I’m standing with someone and conversation isn’t flowing, I will always stop myself and ask: is this necessary?

    I speak to unload an ego-driven thought.

    By ego-driven, I mean a thought that makes my self-image feel bigger and better. Gossip fits well into this category. Or bragging. Complaining about a negative situation is another. (Because in the complaining, I’m pointing out what everyone else is doing wrong.)

    If I speak these thoughts aloud, I usually do so with someone I can trust, like my husband, but that does not make it better. Vocalizing something negative about someone else always makes me feel worse, even if I can trust the person I’m sharing it with. It’s just not worth it.

    I speak with frustration or anger.

    This one’s a bit more nuanced, and often comes down to tone. Even if the words themselves are true and necessary (such as: “because you dilly dallied over breakfast, we’re now going to be late for school”), they are not kind. The unkindness often comes through in the tone, if not the words themselves.

    As usual, sage advice seems so simple but is not at all easy to put into practice!

    Here are some strategies to try:

    1. Breathe.

    Take a moment for a conscious breath before speaking. It’s an imperceptible pause, but it allows you the space to consider your comment before it is spoken. Not only does it give you space for second thought, it can somehow magically reframe the situation.

    I’ve found that noticing the simple miracle of breath can cause me to see the current situation in a completely different light.

    2. Respond; don’t react.

    There is a huge difference between a thoughtful response and a knee-jerk reaction. Often, the knee-jerk reaction is fueled by subconscious anxieties.

    Enabling yourself (via #1) to have a thoughtful response means taking control of the situation and not letting your subconscious run your life.

    3. Reflect.

    Use the lapses in judgment when you’ve said something regrettable to consider why you responded the way you did.

    The trigger is usually only half of the problem. It’s worth considering what in ourselves, deep down, was irritated enough to strike back. Being aware of these personal vulnerabilities is what contributes to tremendous personal growth over the long run.

    Ideally the transformation would occur at the level of thought, so words would never have to be checked at the door, as it were. Oh, to have only true, kind and necessary thoughts!

    Until then, this quote is going up on our fridge as a regular reminder for me to tick all three boxes before speaking. I’ll take it one day at a time. (Heck, one hour at a time!) If it rubs off on the kids, all the better.

    Woman holding mouth image via Shutterstock

  • 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!

  • How to Know When It’s Time to Give Up

    How to Know When It’s Time to Give Up

    Tired Man

    “The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” ~Anna Quindlen

    Growing up, I refused to go to bed until I fit the last piece of my jigsaw puzzle. That’s when I first understood that it could be difficult to give up, but I didn’t think my perseverance was a problem.

    Soon after, however, I realized that blind persistence could turn into an exhausting and useless quest.

    When something unjust happened to me or to someone I loved, I worked relentlessly to “make things right.” In many occasions, my attempts to fix a negative situation would only make matters worse.

    I wasted time and effort trying to stay in touch with people from high school and college who had no interest in keeping the friendship.

    I held jobs where I wasn’t happy, making myself physically and emotionally ill.

    Later, my persistence led me to three years of futile effort to save my troubled marriage. Living in pain through these three precious years taught me, among many things, that sometimes it’s imperative to give up.

    You might be experiencing a situation that isn’t working and wondering whether you should persevere a little longer. You might wonder whether more time will allow you to fix the problem or reach the goal. After all, people always say, “Never give up.”

    How do you know when it’s time to give up? Here are five signs that might help you decide.

    Your quest to solve a problem takes over all other aspects of your life.

    If you feel that you’re not enjoying life to the fullest because you can’t stop thinking about your situation, it might be time to reconsider the reasons you continue trying.

    I became so overwhelmed by my desire to improve my marriage that I stopped focusing on my friends, family, and career. Don’t let this happen to you.

    Working toward a worthwhile goal should be elating and exciting. Lack of excitement about achieving what you think you want probably means that you’ve become used to striving and never arriving. It’s “what you do,” and this routine doesn’t serve you.

    Also, you may be justifying a painful situation in the name of psychological comfort. Fear of the unknown or of upsetting other people could be the true driver of your efforts because perceived safety and popularity are comforting.

    What would your life be like if you stopped trying? Notice the first feeling that arrives when you ask this question. A feeling of freedom or exhilaration is a sign you are ready to give up.

    You aren’t able to visualize a positive outcome.

    If you continue working to achieve a goal and yet, it seems like an impossible dream to be successful, you’ll sabotage your own efforts.

    In a quiet place, contemplate the realization of your goal in detail. Can you clearly picture the resolution of your problem? Can you see yourself succeeding and feeling good about your success? If not, it‘s a good idea to reassess your commitment to the goal.

    When I dreamed about a fairytale ending to my marriage issues, my inner voice would often tell me there was a very small chance I would succeed.

    However, my rational mind would kick in, and I would find new reasons to keep trying. This process of rationalization would eventually make me feel even worse about the possible outcome.

    You start to feel poorly about yourself.

    Not being able to achieve your goal might result in self-doubt about your abilities. You might wonder whether there is something wrong with you.

    In most cases, a job, relationship, or project that hurts your self-worth isn’t worth it.

    You’re the only person who shows interest in solving the problem or reaching the goal, but the outcome also depends on other people.

    This is particularly relevant in relationships.

    If you are the only person who initiates contact with a friend or the only one who takes action to improve a relationship, it’s unlikely that the relationship will thrive or even survive.

    Letting go of relationships in which you’re the only person invested will produce temporary pain, but once you’ve overcome the negative emotions, you’ll be able to welcome loving and uplifting people into your life.

    When you wake up in the morning, your first thought is to give up.

    You’re most attuned to your intuition when you first open your eyes after a night of rest, and your intuition always knows what is in your best interest.

    The emotional pain I experienced when I chose to silence my inner voice wasn’t needed or worth it. Trust that your intuition is guiding you to the places you’re meant to go, the career you’re meant to have, and the people you’re meant to meet.

    Making the decision to give up might not be easy, but will open the door to fulfilling and joyful life experiences. Letting go will set you on a path of learning, growth, and expansion!

    Tired man image via Shutterstock

  • We Are All People Who Need People

    We Are All People Who Need People

    Man Behind Curtain

    “But first be a person who needs people. People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.” ~Bob Merrill, lyricist, Barbra Streisand, artist

    Act 1: Babs and Me

    Barbra Streisand and I could be twins.

    For starters, we were born on the same day.

    Sure, she got here a couple of decades earlier, but except the part where she’s a rich, famous, writer-director-actress married to James Brolin, and oh, that singing thing, we could have been separated at birth.

    We both have blue eyes and chemically enhanced blonde hair. We speak the same language; in Brooklyn or Philly, you say, tuh-may-duh, I say tuh-may-duh.

    Our cultural heritages are similarly steeped in neuroses and commandments, thus our identical self-confidence issues. A small sampling of the insecurities we share:

    • We are overly concerned with our appearances (but complain about getting dressed and combing our hair.)
    • We have stage fright and always will.
    • We suffer from PTCSD (post-traumatic-childhood self-worth disorder).
    • We only remember our bad reviews.
    • We photograph better from the left, we believe.
    • We want people to like us, mostly so they don’t hate us.
    • We prefer dark rooms filled with people we don’t know to small rooms of people we are supposed to.
    • We worry about money, me a little more than she.
    • We are people who need people.

    “People” was Babs’s first Top 10 hit. When my mom sang along with the “Funny Girl” in the sixties, I thought “People” was a love song. You too?

    Lyricist Bob Merrill’s original hook was “one very special person,” because “Funny Girl” is the story of how singer Fanny Brice found the half that made her whole in gambler Nick Arnestein.

    Lucky her.

    Except, there are two kinds of luck, as Nick learns, and Fanny ends up hungry and thirsty again.

    So Merrill put the kibosh on only lovers being very special in favor of, first, an emotional connection with people. Plural. The new focus reflected a key plotline in the movie: the need for people to be vulnerable enough to ask for help and have more than one person to ask.

    Barbra gave us a glimpse of Fanny’s vulnerability when she sang “People.”

    The audience connected to Fanny when she performed because they saw a real person with self-doubt and sorrows, despite her success. Fanny needed the audience to give her the confidence to come back after she lost everything.

    At the time, Barbra told reporters she too connected with the audience by being authentic. Thus, putting on a show made her vulnerable, to her emotions and to criticism, the worst of which came from herself. Her constant internal refrain was:

    “What if they don’t like me?”

    That’s it, isn’t it? The real feeling deep in our souls? What if they don’t like you?

    And we aren’t acting more like children than children.

    We crave inclusion so much that admitting we want a connection with another person—not even a lover, a fellow human—is as frightening as a death threat. Grown-up pride can’t hide the need to belong.

    So we hid, Babs and me. From the world, for years, for the same reasons, on fraternal twin timelines.

    I went underground a little later than Barbra. At thirty-three, I walked away from public office after seven successful years because I couldn’t live in the spotlight. Despite building playgrounds and guarding the treasury to the acclaim of voters and editorial cartoonists, I drew the curtains on 10,000 constituents.

    Fast-forward to forty and still single, my remaining confidence was shredded like a New York Times review. “One of these things is not like the others, one of these things does not belong” was my hit song. The words are forever imprinted in my brain.

    Stage fright seized Barbra’s confidence at twenty-five, when she forgot the words to a song, in front of 135,000 “voters,” under a literal death threat. Spotlight size is relative, though, so it was essentially the same situation as mine, and so Babs walked away from public performance too.

    What’s more, by her early forties, the great and powerful Ms. Streisand shared my Sadie envy. We had similar spinsterly reactions: we blamed ourselves and then spent years and thousands trying to fix ourselves.

    Working from home aided and abetted my self-imposed isolation for seven years. Barbra tightly controlled, well, everything, for twenty-seven years.

    Lucky her.

    While hiding from paying customers, Barbra used her talent to make the world a better place in performances for protecting the environment and civil rights. I try to make the world a better place by protecting animals and writing about single life. I hope I’m talented.

    We were happy during that time, B & me. Fear was barely an impediment. Life was a Greta Garbo bio-pic. We were content cocooning. Searching deep in our souls, we discovered we were already whole.

    Then we remembered we need people.

    Act 2: Babs and Me, Reprise.

    And people needed us.

    Were we ready for our comebacks? Seems so.

    Barbra hit the trail partly because her calendar was open: two films were serendipitously postponed. She also wanted to secure her financial future. Lucky her, she required only two performances to be set for life.

    A secure financial future is on my trail too, though right now I need two jobs to be set for the year. That said, I’m just about the age when Babs went public again. Give me another twenty years to achieve international fame and fortune.

    Time and money are powerful incentives, but as Barbra declared, “Opening your heart is the goal of the quest.” Ultimately, what brought us both back was the need for connection, with people.

    Despite stage fright and a black hole of confidence, we needed to belong, where we belong.

    So what did we do?

    Like twins, we did the same thing. Babs went back on tour. I went back East.

    While I moved home to Philadelphia, Barbra brought her home to the stage. The set for her first comeback concert looked like a living room, albeit Louis XIV’s living room.

    On her seven-month tour, Barbra had family on hand. On my return, I stayed with my sister for seven months. Needing people and living with them entail completely different kinds of vulnerability. And restraint.

    Barbra managed any word-related worries with Teleprompters. I prompted myself to exchange kind words with neighbors and to meet new friends—no worries.

    Babs had something to do with her hands, and visual aids. Me too—a puppy.

    She told stories, which is my real talent. Amusing anecdotes are mood-stabilizers for me.

    Speaking of drugs, we are both honest about it. Barbra and I benefitted from advances in psychopharmacology. A beta blocker here, an SSRI there, and we can face our mutual under-abundance of confidence.

    Medicine aside, maturity helped. By fifty, we understood that some losses are forever; some things cannot be changed. We realized we are each, first, a person who needs people, and that’s okay.

    Gambling with our vulnerability continues to pay confidence dividends.

    Barbra is able to do public shows whenever she wishes. She re-connects with her audience; she belongs on stage. Going solo in a duo society gives me the confidence to connect with people and to show up, for myself and my friends. This is where I belong.

    Barbra still retreats, hiding in Malibu, with James Brolin. I still hide at home, in Philadelphia, with yet another puppy.

    What’s really funny, girls and boys, is how many of us think hiding behind the curtain or in our bedrooms is riskier than opening night or opening a door. We might feel safe but we won’t ever feel secure without emotional connections. Poets, playwrights, and psychiatrists agree: people really do need people to survive.

    Maybe you have stage fright, and all the world is a stage. Maybe you are shy, or ‘new around here.’ Maybe you made a bad bet at work or love and lost your confidence.

    Take it from Fanny, Babs, and me, be vulnerable. Maybe for the first time, let yourself be a person who needs people and your luck will change.

    Are you ready for your Act 2?

    Man behind curtain 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.

  • How to Give Yourself and Others the Gift of Happiness

    How to Give Yourself and Others the Gift of Happiness

    People holding hands

    “It is every man’s obligation to put back into the world at least the equivalent of what he takes out of it.” ~Albert Einstein

    My son recently returned home from college with a new demeanor.

    He was helpful, considerate, interested in others, and genuinely happy. The change was a far cry from the boy who had left for college just a few short months before.

    Don’t get me wrong, he has always been a good kid, but up until now he’s been a typical teenager. He was a bit messy, a bit lazy, and if it wasn’t part of his video game he was mostly uninterested.

    So what changed?

    My husband and I began discussing it over dinner. I told him I thought it had a lot to do with the philanthropic efforts of the fraternity he joined. Now instead of playing video games all weekend, he was volunteering at animal shelters and helping the less fortunate by providing physical labor.

    My husband was intrigued. He had always associated philanthropy with money. After all, it’s a word often associated with wealth or large foundations; was it possible for an average person to be philanthropic?

    We began doing research on philanthropy and found that anyone can be philanthropic.

    The word philanthropy actually means “love of humanity.” To be philanthropic means to care, nourish, develop and enhance the human experience.

    Philanthropy is different than charity. The easiest way to explain the difference is that charity takes care of an immediate need, where philanthropy tries to solve a problem.

    Think of it as you can give someone money so that they may buy a meal (charity), or you can teach the person a skill so that they may make a wage and pay for their own meal (philanthropy).

    Research suggests one of the keys to happiness is the act of helping others. It is known as the “helper’s high.” This would explain the change in my son’s personality.

    Medical research into the “helper’s high” phenomenon has shown people who volunteer experience feelings of euphoria. They also found this “high” has possible health benefits that far outreach the act of giving.

    Research suggests people who regularly participate in charities have less pain, sleep better, and have a personal sense of reward and fulfillment.Giving leads to a happier life.

    Philanthropy goes beyond the basics of giving time or money to a cause. It is a foundation that when regularly practiced builds relationships and strengthens self-worth. It is a circular action that builds momentum. We give because it makes us feel good. We feel good because we give.

    Like anything worthwhile in life, there has to be balance. Sometimes too much of a good thing can cause harm. In order to maximize the benefits of philanthropy it’s important to understand how to be a healthy giver.

    Here are five things you should know in order to maximize the benefits of happiness from philanthropy.

    1. Understand philanthropy is selfish.

    Some people find fault in giving to receive, but how else can you give? It’s like eating without satisfying hunger. Yes. We receive and emotional high when we give, but the happiness experienced from giving is natural.

    Some research suggests that you cannot fulfill happiness without giving. Philanthropy is a route to give happiness away in exchange for our own new recharged happiness.

    2. You cannot save the world.

    Some get discouraged because they think too big and their efforts become unrealistic. This can actually have the adverse effect and brings unhappiness. You cannot change the world by yourself, but your efforts, in conjunction with others, can change a life.

    Concentrate on the smaller benefits of giving to maximize the cycle of happiness.

    3. Don’t give to the greatest need unless your heart is in it.

    Only choose causes that speak to your heart. If you love animals, volunteer in a shelter or become a foster home for a kill shelter. If you love children, become a mentor to a high-risk child. The closer your heart is to the cause, the more benefit for your natural cycle of happiness.

    4. Make giving a regular part of your routine.

    Not being consistent in giving your time or money will not increase your happiness. It’s like diet and exercise. If you don’t practice the change consistently, you cannot maximize the benefits.

    Benefits come when relationships form and strengthen over a time of regular giving. This is the best way to see your efforts at work and receive the valuable feedback regarding the difference your efforts make.

    5. Never give too much of yourself to help others.

    Balance is a key in giving just like in all things in life. Never sacrifice your own needs for the needs of others. It’s just like the flight attendant tells you before the plane takes off. Secure your own oxygen before assisting others.

    After seeing the difference giving has made in my son’s life, I’m ready to begin incorporating regular giving into my own life. I hope you join me.

    Do you have a cause that’s close to your heart where you give regularly? How has it made a difference in your life?

    People holding hands image via Shutterstock

  • Stop Keeping Score in Relationships and Start Taking Care of Each Other

    Stop Keeping Score in Relationships and Start Taking Care of Each Other

    Loving Couple

    “Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.” ~Desmond Tutu

    I was recently at the grocery store, and not once, but twice, I encountered couples practically duking it out in the aisles. I mean, full on snit-fits happening here. One pair was so mad, the woman actually walked in the opposite direction down the aisle, her five- or six-year-old in tow.

    Totally productive, right?

    The other pair was fighting because the husband couldn’t decide which milk to get. His wife was trying to hurry him up, and finally he said, in the most frustrated voice ever, “Can’t I take a minute to decide??” Needless to say, she got upset, while he stood in front of the milk case, fuming.

    This is what frequently happens in grocery stores.

    I used to drag my husband to the store with me on the weekends, thinking that it was some sort of household couple karma—I wash the dishes/you pay the bills; I do the laundry/you feed the dog every day; we both hit the grocery store once a week. One for one. Tit for tat. A leveling of the scales, and, if I’m honest, a somewhat misdirected homage to feminism in the household.

    But what I found is that not every chore is equal, and that’s okay. What I feel to be a difficult chore may be easy for my husband, and what I find to be fun or at least tolerable, he would rather walk across hot coals than do. So it is with grocery shopping.

    Every time we went together, it required hours of mental preparation:

    “When do you want to go to the grocery store?” My mantra. Every weekend.

    “Never.”

    “That’s not an option. How about in an hour?”

    “Fine,” said in a somewhat snarky twelve-year-old voice.

    Every time, this conversation. And every time, an hour would come and go, and I’d be waiting around, ready to go, while he was sitting on pins and needles waiting for me to come and nag about it.

    Not pretty. Not good for our relationship. So I decided if he really doesn’t want to go, then I really don’t want to make him.

    The grocery store is already a high stimulus environment—BUY THIS! LOW FAT! NATURAL! HONEST! The shelves are practically screaming and my synapses are firing on full-blast as I try to navigate between product displays and random children.

    I’m already apologizing to people every time I almost run someone over turning the corner; do I need to be feeling bad about dragging my husband along as well?

    To be fair, we never actually had a full-on fight in (or about) the grocery store—thank goodness. But it was never an easy, comfortable time. There was always mutual resentment, and who needs that?

    Not me. Not my husband. Not anyone.

    Besides, when he’s not there, I get to linger. I spend time looking at the ingredient lists and nutrition labels. I come up with ideas, make plans, and buy special snacks. It becomes an adventure, not a chore.

    Sometimes it isn’t about equality. Sometimes it’s about taking care of each other. I do what my husband doesn’t like to do, and vice versa, so that when we’re together, it’s about us, and not about how many chores the other person has completed.

    There’s no scoreboard, only gratitude.

    Divide and conquer. And save your marriage, relationship, friendship, or partnership. Serve the other by doing what they hate to do. Take out the trash. Go by the bank. Do the dishes.

    It isn’t a favor to cash in at a later date (though it’s always nice when it’s reciprocated). It’s an honest-to-goodness foot-washing of the 21st century.

    To be clear, I’m not advocating for you to do everything for your partner. That would be unfair. There should still be a feeling of balanced support in any relationship. But at the end of the day, caring for one another in a balanced way is not the same thing as keeping score.  

    We want to feel that we can lean on our partners when we need to, as much as they can lean on us. And that makes for one powerful relationship.

    Of course, if you and your partner love to shop together, by all means, keep it up! Even when it’s just folding laundry, it feels good to do things together. Even though we no longer grocery shop as a couple, my husband and I do a lot of other chores together—not because we’re made to, but because we want to.

    And more power to every couple who can work side by side. Just remember that it’s not the only way to get things done. I swear to all things delicious, I don’t totally love going to the grocery store. I probably never will.

    But I do love doing something kind for my husband every week. It’s that simple.

    Loving couple image via Shutterstock

  • Tiny Buddha eBook and Others on Sale for 99 Cents

    Tiny Buddha eBook and Others on Sale for 99 Cents

    Black Friday Book Sale

    Hi friends! If you haven’t already read Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself, now may be the perfect time, as the eBook version has been included in a special Black Friday Weekend Holiday Sale.

    From today until Monday December 1st, you can get the digital version of my book and over twenty others for just 99 cents each at blackfridaybooksale.com.

    About Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself

    Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself is a collaborative book featuring a collection of stories from Tiny Buddha contributors, along with tips to help you feel good about yourself and your life.

    The book shares forty unique perspectives and insights on topics related to loving yourself. It will help you:

    • Release shame about your past and the limiting beliefs that keep you stuck
    • See yourself as beautiful and valuable, with all your flaws and weaknesses
    • Accept yourself more and judge yourself less
    • Forgive yourself for your mistakes and stop being hard on yourself
    • Minimize the need for approval to feel more confident
    • Let go of the comparisons that keep you feeling inferior
    • Feel complete so that you no longer look to others to fill a void within yourself
    • Find the courage to share your authentic self for deeper connections with others
    • Learn to take care of yourself instead of putting everyone else’s needs first
    • Believe that you’re valuable so you can start creating a life you love

    About the Black Friday Weekend Holiday Sale

    You’ll find titles by Miguel Ruiz, Jr., Shakti Gawain, Jack Canfield, and many other inspiring, bestselling authors.

    And since the holidays are all about giving, you can also send eBooks as gifts. All you need to do is provide your gift recipient’s email address, and the eBook(s) of your choice will be delivered right to their inbox on the date of your choosing (up to 90 days from now).

    Your loved one doesn’t need to have an eReader, like a Kindle or Nook. They can read the eBooks right on their computer, smart phone, or tablet.

    Visit blackfridaybooksale.com for more information, or get the hard copy version of Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself  on Amazon. (Please note that hard copy version is not available at the sale price.)

    I hope you enjoy the eBook(s). Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

  • Giving the Benefit of the Doubt to Rude or Annoying People

    Giving the Benefit of the Doubt to Rude or Annoying People

    “Three things in human life are important: the first is to be kind; the second is to be kind; and the third is to be kind.” ~Henry James

    Some lessons you learn once, and they last a lifetime.

    I loved to bake as a child, and one day I put a bowl of batter in the microwave with the metal whisk I was using to stir it. A minute later, I pulled the bowl out of the microwave and grabbed the hot metal whisk with my bare hand.

    When I think about it, I can still feel the burn from the metal that took several weeks to heal.

    Some lessons last a lifetime.

    And some don’t.

    When I was a little girl, we had a housekeeper for about a month. We came home one day to find that she had stolen several things from our home.

    “Mom! Can you believe Lupe stole these things?! How could she?!”

    My mom barely reacted to this news. “She must have needed them more than we did.”

    I was outraged. “How can you say that? What she did was wrong!”

    My mom calmly replied, “Melanie, you never know what someone else is going through.”

    I wish I’d remembered that lesson many years later when I was the unit coordinator of an emergency room.

    Patients, medical staff, family members, paramedics, and the intercom created a cacophony of voices. People were shouting and running, beeps and buzzers were going off, and the phones were ringing constantly.

    There was a separate phone used for patient calls. Its distinctive ring was as welcome as a hammer to my skull on this frenetic day. Just my luck, I was at the desk next to the room of a patient who called every five minutes.

    BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

    First, she called for ice chips. She needed her bed raised; she needed her bed lowered. She needed the phone, and then she needed the phone hung up.

    Every request she had was heralded by that awful BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

    I could have handled it if she asked for what she needed in a normal voice. Instead, she whined each request, as if she was at death’s door, which I’m sure she was not.

    “Ooh,” she whined, “I need the TV remote.”

    Anyone whose biggest problem is not being able to reach the TV remote has it good in the emergency room, wouldn’t you say?

    I mean, we were in a major trauma center. There were people getting CPR, coming in with gunshot wounds, or rushing to surgery as soon as they came through the door, at the same time this woman was whining about not being able to reach the TV remote.

    I thought this was my chance to help her get a new perspective and realize that really, she had it good. It kind of felt like my duty. Like I’d be doing her a favor.

    So I said, “Well, at least it’s just an issue with your TV remote. There are plenty of people here who won’t survive the night, so you’re doing well to be concerned about watching TV.”

    Her eyes grew wide with shock. Her voice softened with the awe of someone who had just been given great wisdom.

    “Wow. You’re so right. I should be thankful I’m here and doing okay.”

    I sauntered out of her room, feeling great about myself. I really did a good thing. I was like a divine messenger.

    When I got back to the nurses’ station, I decided for kicks to look and see why the woman was in the emergency room in the first place. Probably a stubbed toe or something lame like that. I looked at her chart. Heart transplant recipient, renal failure, blood transfusions.

    She was only thirty-five years old.

    I felt like I’d been hit with a brick.

    And there she was, thanking me for helping her see that her situation wasn’t that bad. That just made it worse.

    I wanted to walk in there and say, “You know what? Your situation is bad! You want some more ice chips?”

    I may not have a physical scar to show, but the shock and shame I felt after reading that woman’s chart went far deeper than the burn from the metal whisk.

    Some lessons last a lifetime.

    I still judge people. Who doesn’t? It’s like my brain receives information and immediately makes a decision about it.

    But I know enough now to remind myself that I’m only seeing part of the picture. Maybe the woman in the hospital called me into her room because she didn’t want to be alone. Maybe she was scared. I don’t know.

    And that’s the point. We never know what someone else is going through, whether it’s a housekeeper stealing from her employer, a woman in the hospital incessantly using her call button, or someone who cuts you off on the highway.

    We never know what someone else is going through.

    What we can do is give other people the benefit of the doubt and choose to show them kindness and compassion.

    I know it’s hard sometimes to feel compassion for someone who is really rude or annoying. That’s when I create a story to explain their behavior.

    The guy who was rude to me at the grocery store—did you know he just got diagnosed with gonorrhea? From his mistress? And his wife is pregnant with another man’s baby?

    No wonder he’s in such a bad mood.

    Making up silly stories helps me lighten up. It helps me remember that I’m only seeing one snippet of this person’s life. They could be longing for a breath of kindness, a modicum of compassion.

    And that’s something I can give.

  • From Conflict to Compassion: Put Love Above Winning

    From Conflict to Compassion: Put Love Above Winning

    Angry Couple

    “Let go of your attachment to being right and suddenly your mind is more open.” ~Ralph Marston

    When we face a conflict we face an opportunity to learn from pain. It’s like putting your hand against a hot burner on the stove. The burn warns that you have to do something differently.

    You pull your hand back reflexively and you don’t touch the stove again. You’ve learned. As with the hot stove, if we get the lesson that is in front of us, we don’t need to keep repeating that particular pain.

    Inconveniently, our natural inclination when we feel the sting of conflict is to outsource the blame, making it impossible to get the lesson and move on.

    This is such a strong tendency that many of us live in a constant or re-occurring experience with conflict. We have conflicts with our co-workers, our boss, our neighbors, the guy in front of us in line at the coffee shop, our partners, children, and parents.

    It’s the same story running over and over. In its most basic form, the story is:

    I have been wronged by someone who does not see my value. They are self-centered and are not considering my point of view

    Oddly enough, that is also the story we are acting out. We are refusing to see the others’ point of view; maybe because it puts our own sense of self at risk.

    Who am I if I let go of my passionate perspective and wholly understand the others’ point of view? Will the world walk all over me if I don’t stand up for my rights?

    Fundamentally, this fear is about a loss of ego. My outrage at my neighbor because he continually lets his dog out at 5:30AM to bark is rooted in a desire to be right: to have my experience in the world validated.

    Of course, the pre-dawn barking disturbs my sleep. I don’t want to discount that impact. But if this were an event that I chose or knew I couldn’t control, I would accept it.

    For example, if I opted to live somewhere beautiful knowing that there would be a 5:30 siren every day, I would manage that in my life with earplugs or a different sleep pattern and not feel indignant about it. But when I feel disregarded by the neighbor, I experience the pain of conflict.

    When I am upset with my partner because he doesn’t do enough housework, it’s not because I’m in pain from doing too much housework. I’m in pain because I’m afraid he won’t see my value; that he will take me for granted and not recognize my worth. That is a fear of losing ego.

    What can we do with this need to win in order to be seen? This very need is central to our primary drivers and yet runs contrary to our best interests.

    As Leo Tolstoy wrote to Gandhi in 1908 in A Letter to a Hindu:

    “On the one side there is the consciousness of the beneficence of the law of love, and on the other the existing order of life which has for centuries occasioned an empty, anxious, restless, and troubled mode of life, conflicting as it does with the law of love and built on the use of violence. This contradiction must be faced.”

    It seems as though our very civilization is built on this tension between winning and loving.

    Tolstoy, optimistic about the resolution of this tension, believed love would rule eventually, if humans just got to the business of recognizing it and putting it at the forefront.

    I’m certainly not going to disagree with that lovely thought, but working with people in interpersonal conflict for many years has taught me that this is no small request.

    It’s all well and good to point a finger at terrorists or fundamentalists or the target du jour. It’s easy to see they need to lay down their arms and love one another.

    But when it comes to the feud with the neighbor, the lack of recognition from the boss, the unjust lawsuit, the cheating spouse, or any of the other truly personal forms of conflict in our day-to-day lives, we take umbrage.

    For those matters, it seems critical that we receive acknowledgement of our unique experience.

    I’m learning that transcending this desire for rightness requires that we build a pathway out and that we cultivate that pathway, tend it, and keep it free of stumbling blocks.

    Here are four not-so-simple steps to tend that path:

    Grow compassion.

    Let go of your perspective long enough to feel another person’s pain. Practice this every day with small matters like the person cutting in front of you in line, and increase to your miserable neighbor or needy mother. When you are annoyed by the screaming child on the plane, imagine what that parent must be feeling.

    Release the need to be right.

    Consider the notion that there is no right in this situation, just two perspectives. We tend to think that our perspective is the truth, but recognizing that our “rightness” is tied to our biased perspective helps get us past our ego.

    Take responsibility for yourself.

    Keep an eye out for what you bring to the situation that adds to the chaos. Overextending or having unclear expectations or boundaries can be as damaging as blaming or digging in your heals.

    Accept what is.

    When you’re in conflict with a person whose behaviors are unacceptable to you, you need to take care of yourself and let go of the desire for the other person to be different. You can’t change that person, but you can change your relationship. Staying engaged and wanting them to be better is like putting a hand back on the stove and wanting it to be cool.

    The opportunity to grow in conflict comes when we accept the other person’s limitations and take care of ourselves without feeling indignant, bitter, or self-righteous. If we can do that, we can broaden that path through the pain toward compassion.

    This post has been updated since it was first published. Angry couple image via Shutterstock

  • Every Imperfect Person Has Something to Teach Us

    Every Imperfect Person Has Something to Teach Us

    Seated Group

    “My experience is that the teachers we need most are the people we’re living with right now.” ~Byron Katie

    I have always been of the opinion that the people around us are our teachers.

    Specifically, I have always seen what I perceive to be negative traits in others as opportunities to develop patience or kindness toward them. I see it as a struggle they are going through, and if I can be patient or kind, then that helps them. It also teaches me how to embody those qualities even when I don’t feel like it.

    If a colleague, friend, or acquaintance is abrasive or aggressive, I try to mentally extend loving thoughts to them.

    I think about what it’s like to be in their shoes and how I can lead by example by being kind to them. I breathe in their perceived negativity and breathe out positivity. I tell myself, this is your opportunity to practice. So I practice.

    And I think without realizing it, sometimes I can be smug about it. Subconsciously, despite all my yogic training, my interest in Buddhism, and my general belief that we are all the same, I inadvertently elevate myself in stature compared to others.

    I am mentally giving myself yogic brownie points—which, in the very nature of yoga, do not exist!

    When you’re on a spiritual path in particular, it can be easy sometimes to fall into the illusion that you’ve made it. You’ve figured it out. You are enlightened and can now teach everybody else how to be just like you.

    One morning recently I had an epiphany about my philosophy that everybody is my teacher. I still believe it to be the case, but I realized that by thinking from my ego, I was always seeing other people as teaching me qualities to help deal with them better. I wasn’t really thinking about how I could be better.

    It was always about being more patient with grumpiness, being more loving toward animosity, opening my heart to a closed one.

    There goes the illusion again, that I have made it—I have learned all I need to learn about my less than desirable qualities, and just need to learn about how to handle other imperfect people. It makes me laugh now as I’m typing it.

    In simple terms, I had basically forgotten that I also had the potential to be quite annoying or difficult too. Just like every other human on the planet. I’m not perfect. And it’s something I have to keep remembering.

    Then I realized in a moment of genuine clarity that one of my greatest teachers is my partner. He will probably scoff when he reads this, as he won’t see himself in this light, but it’s true.

    He loves me for who I am, whether that’s a yogi getting up at 5AM to practice and unwittingly waking him up by chanting quietly in the next room, or someone who proclaims she’s on a vegan diet this week and then sneaks in a bit of cheese in a moment of weakness.

    He patiently (most of the time!) catches spiders for me despite it clearly being an irrational fear that I should probably deal with. He laughs at my jokes even when they aren’t funny, which I shamefully never do for him.

    He forgives and loves people, again and again, in a much more graceful way than I ever have. He knows he is not perfect and that nobody else is. He doesn’t try to attain perfection. He just lives as well as he can in that moment.

    In seeing how he embraces all of me, I realize the goal isn’t merely to learn from other people’s imperfections, but also to accept them—and to accept that I too have room for growth, and that’s perfectly okay. None us will ever have it all figured out, and none of us needs to be perfect.

    Instead of looking at how to deal with qualities in others that I perceive negatively, I now look at how to embrace their positive qualities so I can gradually start to embody them more myself. I still aim to lead by example, but I also strive to follow the many positive examples others set.

    And this is how we can all teach other—by seeing the best in each other and bringing out the best in each other. We are all on equal footing, human and imperfect. Let’s learn and love together.

    Group of meditators image via Shutterstock

  • Do You Think You Need to Be Perfect to Be Accepted?

    Do You Think You Need to Be Perfect to Be Accepted?

    Hiding Behind Hood

    “What you resist, persists.” ~C.G. Jung

    There it is: Perfection, Eureka!—the holy grail of achievement, like an elusive mirage in the middle of a desert or that pesky little pot of gold we are always hunting for at the end of the rainbow, purring with all of its possibilities, protection, and promise.

    Yet, despite its charm and the value we tend to assign to the trait, as well as on those who possess it, perfectionism ultimately leads to the same destination. In striving for perfection, we may soon find ourselves disappointed, dissatisfied, and even sometimes, knee-deep in suffering and denial, like I did.

    What does it really mean to be perfect? To do things perfectly? To be a perfectionist?

    For me, perfectionism is best described as a constant striving—the sense that you or the circumstances in your life are unacceptable as they are. This also goes far beyond a healthy desire for excellence or improvement.

    The chance to do more and to be more consumed me. And ultimately, the chance to become the living, breathing, endlessly disciplined and carefully retouched image of my actual self was just too tantalizing.

    It seemed to offer me the ability to control the circumstances as well as the people around me, shaping them all and living life according to my own terms and conditions.

    We are often taught that along with perfectionism, and its corresponding high level of accomplishment, comes an automatic sense of admiration, security, certainty, and predictability—all acting as some sort of insurance or safeguard against the painful, frustrating, and seemingly unavoidable irritations and nuances of our day-to-day lives. 

    What I realize now is this: I longed to be admired by all, yet truly seen and known by none. For me, perfectionism became a way to mask all those less-than perfect, too different or undesirable aspects of my self.

    Growing up, I felt fundamentally different from my peers, which at the time, translated to feeling inferior and never quite fitting or blending in. I had decided I stood out like a sore thumb.

    Being biracial and heavily influenced by my Peruvian culture growing up, I remember longing to fit in or to be more like those around me—to watch American television shows, to listen to American music and radio in the car, and to eat American food every night for dinner.

    At school, I desperately hoped to fit in and be accepted, but despite my best efforts, oftentimes, I felt like I was on the outside looking in.

    I did not understand then that what made me different actually gave me insight, depth, openness, compassion, and the ability to empathize with others.

    I longed to push my differences deep down, far enough that I could just about convince myself that they had actually vanished, and that I was victorious.

    Later on, my obsession with perfectionism and its illusion of control took up most of my time, consumed my mind, yet left me riddled with feelings of anxiety, depression, unworthiness, shame, guilt, and several increasingly unbalanced and unhealthy relationships in its wake.

    It was never enough. The harder I tried, the more I felt sure I was failing, and the pain inside grew stronger. I came to better hide my true self, feeling ashamed of the parts that did not measure up.

    I had already decided I was unworthy, because I was simply too bossy, too sensitive, too shy, too fearful, too quiet, too reactive, too emotional, too unfocused, too messy, too raw, and entirely too quirky. I was too imperfect as I was.

    In being so judgmental of myself, it is no wonder that this critical perspective began to spread and apply to everything and everyone around me.

    Once I am perfect, or closer to perfect, we find ourselves thinking, I will finally be that much closer to being able to truly and wholly accept and love myself. At last, I thought, I can be safe, decidedly removed from all judgment and ridicule—no longer vulnerable or ashamed.

    I was no longer forced to see and accept things as they were—the good and the bad, all braided together into one and, always already beyond the span of my control.

    The incessant worrying, people pleasing, and the constant search for external validation through the approval of others all culminated in the implosion of a four-year romantic relationship that I had been doing just about everything in my power and beyond to maintain—even at the expense of my overall well being.

    This was my misguided attempt to ensure everything appeared seamlessly and seemingly picture perfect for everyone around me.

    Nights spent crying and mornings where I could not bring myself to get out of bed, I knew I was drained and broken down. I could not keep pushing forward and denying myself, and I could no longer disguise or deny the chaos lurking only inches below the perfectly polished façade.

    I had been denying my true self, my needs, my wants, and my feelings to the point where they became unintelligible to me. In fact, I am still working to decode, understand, and listen to them.

    But I do know this much: What I was craving more than anything was to be seen and accepted for who I was—without all that extra effort and perfectionism piled on top.

    I wanted to belong, to be desired, and to be loved for who I am already. And I was looking for that stamp of approval outside of myself and from others.

    When I looked around me, all I could see were my unrealistically high expectations mirrored back at me. The seeds of expectation and subsequent suffering had now firmly taken root.

    With reality on one side and my demands and expectations on the other, I found myself bridging the chasm, clinging to both sides, exhausted, and using nearly every last bit of energy in my reserve to unsuccessfully close the gap between expectation and reality.

    The solution: complete and total acceptance of what is—of your present set of circumstances: self, feelings, wants, and needs, for better or for worse.

    Here is the key: you don’t have to be happy with or even have chosen your present set of circumstances in order to acknowledge them or to simply see them as they are in their unfiltered state.

    Not you, nor your circumstances, nor the people in your life need to be perfect (or even any different than they are at this exact moment) in order for you to accept them.

    You can accept uncertainty, and you can accept that sometimes, temporarily, you may not be feeling happy, and you might even be feeling pain inside. Allow it. Feel it. Listen to it.

    The reason this is possible is because everything changes—all circumstances and feelings are constantly rearranging, changing, and forever in flux. Nothing is truly permanent, fixed, or secure. And perfectionism does nothing to change that.

    To accept means to see and to acknowledge what is—with brutal and unflinching honesty. It means seeing without resistance and reserving the desire to control or to change what you see. No more hiding from or resisting reality.

    Fortunately, this is the foundation for genuine and enduring self-love, self-compassion, and being truly grounded and in touch with your true self. This in turn, becomes the most natural way of authentically being able share boundless and replenishing love and compassion with others.

    Hiding man image via Shutterstock

  • 6 Mindful Ways to Calm Your Mind and Heal Your Heart

    6 Mindful Ways to Calm Your Mind and Heal Your Heart

    “We do not heal the past by dwelling there; we heal the past by living fully in the present.” –Marianne Williamson

    As the last moments of my thirties are fading away, I’m preparing for the dawn of a new age, the age at which life is said to begin.

    I’m like a butterfly preparing to break free from her chrysalis into the light, ready to spread her wings and feel what it is to be free—a freedom that has been born from six long months of deep introspection.

    The catalyst for this journey of introspection was the breaking of my heart. Such a wonderful thing to experience at this stage in life, as without breaking it completely, it would never have opened.

    It was hardened from many old wounds, scars from a turbulent past. It was shattered with such astounding glory that it felt as though I would remain forever broken. Forever disconnected from myself and the wonder that lives inside each and every one of us.

    As I watched the pieces of my hardened heart crumble to dust, I found something buried deep within. A consciousness that I had never before felt or experienced, and yet felt very familiar. I stood in this new found consciousness and witnessed the feelings, the pain, the fear.

    I witnessed them with great clarity as though I had been awakened for the first time. Thirty-nine years had passed since my birth and yet I stood in the wake of my heartache feeling like I had been awoken from the deepest life-long sleep.

    Within a few days of this awakening, I found myself walking through the doors of a yoga studio that I had not visited before. Something about the ambiance made me feel like I had come home.

    I paid for the next available class—Energize Yoga. This was a Kundalini yoga class, a style I had never tried before. The class involved a lot of breathing with rhythmic movement.

    We all lay on our backs with legs and arms raised in the air. We were instructed to shake our legs and arms from side to side to the beat of some loud dance music which was getting faster and faster. All the while we had to breathe out forcefully; this was difficult and made no sense to me.

    After five minutes of this nonsense, the music stopped. We were instructed to put our legs and arms down and to laugh as hard as we could. It was easy to laugh, as what we had been doing seemed a little crazy; however, I was not prepared for the laughter and what it would bring.

    The energy that spilled out of my body as my laugh got deeper was like the pulse of electricity straight from a socket, almost causing my core muscles to spasm. I laughed a loud bubbly laugh which came all the way from the very core of my being.

    I left the studio with a monthly pass and a renewed enthusiasm for life. My heart was still broken, my senses still in shock, but the clarity of vision in my newly awakened state made it feel like I was watching the chaos as an observer rather than being consumed by it.

    I could still feel panicked waves of desperation pulse through my body. Depressed at what had passed and anxious at what was yet to come, I could see clearly that there was fear deeply rooted in my soul.

    The pain, the fear, the anxiety, it made me want to climb out of my own skin. To seek refuge in some external place as though my body were just an avatar. As I witnessed all these feelings and emotions wash over me in waves, I felt something was profoundly different.

    I’d dealt with previous heartbreaks by suppressing the painful feelings or distracting myself with work, parties, and avoidance of time alone. This time was different. Instead of suppressing the feelings or distracting myself, I allowed myself to just be.

    I still felt afraid. Afraid of living, afraid of dying, afraid of my pain, afraid of my emotions. On a cold morning in February, I decided to symbolically challenge my fears. I had a fear of height and of open water.

    I traveled back to Ireland, and with the guidance and encouragement of two dear friends, I jumped from a pier into the icy cold waters of Carlingford bay. As I emerged from the icy cold waters, I again felt very alive.

    I proved to myself that no fear is greater than the strength within. I knew then that I would be okay, maybe even better than okay. My life would never be the same again.

    When my heart broke, I woke up and found myself. In losing a love that meant everything to me, I found that everything I need is within me and always has been.

    I stopped looking outwardly for approval. I dove into myself. I dug up all that I had buried, every skeleton in my closet. I looked face-on at the parts of myself that I didn’t like. I opened every wound I had ever allowed myself to carry.

    I walked myself through every negative memory and imagined I were back there in that day/time when the memory was my reality. For each and every situation I observed through my new found consciousness, I could clearly see my part.

    I accepted responsibility for my part in all of these situations. I sat with every emotion that came my way, not judging or criticizing, just observing and allowing it to just be.

    I cried when I needed to cry, laughed when I felt like laughing and felt more peaceful with each passing day.

    I began meditation in April and found that it brought a calmness and sense of peace that was new to my experience. Epiphany after epiphany came to me as I learned about myself and my layers.

    I continued to do yoga and meditation while working through the rainbow of emotions that made up my day. The flip-flopping between my past and my future slowed as I found myself becoming more present and living in the moment.

    The more at peace I have become, the more I want to share what I have learned, as I believe everyone deserves to feel this peace.

    1. Start with your breath.

    A great way to become conscious when your mind starts to wander is to focus on your breath.

    You can practice yogic pranayama exercises with the guidance of a good teacher but more basic than that, just stop and breathe! Deep calming breaths are proven to calm an anxious mind and have a positive impact on depression.

    2. Observe your thoughts.

    The mind is constantly full of thoughts. Attaching to negative thoughts creates suffering. Remember that just because you think something doesn’t mean that it’s true. Byron Katie’s four questions can be a helpful tool when dealing with negative thoughts.

    3. Remember that you are not your emotions.

    Regardless if how high or low you feel, the roller-coaster of emotions you feel is not you. You are much more than that.

    Try to stop when you feel overwhelmed by emotion. Observe how your body feels. Are your shoulders tense? Is your breathing shallow? Come back to your breath. Breathe into the parts of the body where you feel the physical expression of the emotion.

    4. Stay in your present reality.

    The more present and mindful you can be, the less you will suffer. A good practice for mindfulness is to do regular things differently. Hold your toothbrush in the alternate hand. Drive a different route to work. Switch your knife with your fork. You get the idea!

    When you stress over the past or worry about the future, stop! Breathe and come back to the present. Remember always that this too shall pass.

    5. Validate yourself.

    Don’t look to others for validation. Everything you need is inside you. Forgive yourself for your wrongdoings. Give yourself all the love you need. If you have difficulty with this, treat yourself as you would your dearest friend.

    I was my own worst critic and harshest judge until I began to practice self-validation and self-love.

    6. Be patient and persistent.

    Healing your heart won’t happen overnight. We are creatures of habit; negative habits take time to break. Rewriting of neural pathways takes time. Your body and mind need time to adjust when you make changes.

    When you feel like you have taken a step backwards, just breathe and reconnect with yourself. The duality that exists between the heart and the mind can be bridged once you remain conscious and aware. Persistence will keep you on the right track.

    As I write this, I feel excited for the life ahead—ready for the highs and the lows, and willing to greet each situation from a conscious state in the present moment.

    I am opening my heart to the world, a heart that has come back together from the dust, void of past scars. Ready to live, ready to love, ready to breathe!

  • Keep Hope Alive: How To Help Someone Who’s Struggling

    Keep Hope Alive: How To Help Someone Who’s Struggling

    “He who has health has hope and he who has hope has everything.” ~Proverb

    I write this today seemingly healthy.

    My doctors say I’m healthy. I feel healthy. I look healthy. But over the last six months this was not the case.

    In April of this year I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Melanoma. I am thirty-five years old. I am a wife and a mother to a four-year-old and six-year-old. I have my own business. I am busy. I did not have time for cancer.

    But cancer had time for me.

    I’ll never forget the day that I got the call letting me know that not only did I have this “Melanoma,” but it had spread to my lymph nodes as well. More surgery and an immunotherapy called “interferon” would be necessary, and the rate of return even after treatment? Thirty percent.

    The first response inside of me was acceptance. I skipped past all the other emotions because, well, quite frankly, I had so long neglected the mole on my neck that I knew when the whole process started that cancer (and an advanced one at that) was likely.

    But I’m not here to talk about cancer today. I’m here to talk about hope. A hope that springs eternal in the name of community. A rallying around me of family, friends, and even strangers upon this diagnosis. A support system that boldly lifted me and my mindset through every step of the way.

    Dinners, childcare, cards, surprises on my doorstep, texts, calls, long-term visits—this community that I’m so very blessed with rallied in a big way, in a way I never, ever thought possible.

    Even in my darkest and sickest of hours there was always something to be hopeful for because the love that came at me was indescribable.

    It was made of sterner stuff.

    It gave me hope because every time I even remotely started feeling bad, the community would take hold and lift me up in ways that were exactly what I needed right in the moment that I needed it.

    My phone would buzz: “Thinking of you today. Hoping you’re okay. Sending love your way.”

    My email would ding: “You’re amazing through this. Truly.”

    Visitors would stop by: “Let yourself be loved. Let yourself be cared for.”

    This whole cancer thing has taught me, once again, in the beauty of humanity. It has shown me that, even in our darkest hours, others can (and will) lift our spirits. When we are faced with our hardest struggles, it is then that we see the beauty in all that surrounds us.

    Cancer is a bringer of all emotions. It is an un-hinger of all truths and perceptions. Things that once were important are no longer relevant. There is suddenly more beauty in the everyday.

    This I learned not only because I was sick, but because my family, my friends, and perfect strangers showed me how to someday support someone in the same way they supported me.

    So I offer you this: a list of ways to show your support when someone is having a hard time or is going through an illness.

    Make a meal even when they say they don’t need it.

    This was lifesaving for me! Drop it on the doorstep and tell them to freeze it.

    Send texts.

    Little joy buzzes, I like to now call them, sweet messages offering support, jokes, and updates from the outside world.

    Leave a message.

    Hearing the voices of my friends and family as I drifted in and out of consciousness (the treatment I had to endure was five days a week for four weeks, and it was tough) was the most uplifting.

    Drop off trinkets.

    There were times when I was well enough to go outside and sit for a bit in the summer sun. Often, I would find little gifts at my doorstep. I see these now in my office, in my home, in my bedroom, and they make me smile thinking of those who dropped them by.

    Don’t give up quickly.

    Whatever support you would like to offer, know that there may be some “Oh, we couldn’t possibly” or “That’s okay—we’re okay.” People often say this when they could really use the support, so it helps to offer more than once and be clear that you really want to be there for them.

    Help delegate tasks.

    Create a rotating schedule for bringing meals, giving rides, and offering help.

    Admit that it stinks—empathize and then uplift.

    Something from the emotional perspective that I learned during my cancer diagnosis and treatment was that when I told someone about it, they often didn’t know what to say. There was always a silence and then a pause. A loss for words.

    We naturally want to make things “better” and keep it upbeat, which can go a long way in lifting someone’s spirit. That being said, the very first thing I loved hearing from family and friends before the upbeat was “Wow. This sucks.”

    Those words allowed me to connect emotionally with my supporters. Even if they had never had cancer or had never gone through something like this before, the fact that the words were out there anchored me into a place where I could then build up with hope.

    The best response I heard from a friend was this: “This sucks. I don’t like it. It’s going to be hard, but we will get through it and you’re not alone.” So, when in doubt empathize and then offer support.

    Stay long-term if you can.

    If you are able, try and be with your loved ones during the most difficult times. Stay for two days, a week, whatever works. This reprieve is huge.

    Ask yourself: What would I want?

    And then do that very thing.

    Community support can provide a lot of hope, and as the quote says: “He who has hope has everything.”

    As I ride the wave of newfound health, I know deep down that I have a net of support that. If the cancer returns, I’ll still have a battalion of loved ones behind me and they’ll help me keep hope alive.

  • We Don’t Need to Change to Please Other People

    We Don’t Need to Change to Please Other People

    “One of the most freeing things we learn in life is that we don’t have to like everyone, everyone doesn’t have to like us, and it’s perfectly OK.” ~Unknown

    I am thankful from the bottom of my heart to that relative who dislikes me.

    As Mother Teresa famously said, “Some people come in our life as blessings. Some come in your life as lessons.”

    She came in my life as a lesson. The more she dislikes me, the more I love myself and appreciate those who love me.

    This carefree attitude didn’t come overnight. I had to go through a tough phase first. Each day I felt bad about myself, cried a lot, and blamed myself for this messy relationship, and for failing to save it.

    “There are hundreds of people who like me for who I am, so why doesn’t she like me?” I asked myself several times.

    I practiced being who I thought she wanted me to be. Still, despite giving my best to that relationship she always criticized me, and I never received a single word of appreciation. I allowed myself to take it because I thought that one day she’d realize her mistake and start liking me. “One day” never came.

    The day she used disrespectful words while talking to me, I decided not to let her drain my energy anymore.

    During this phase of my life, I lost connections with all my friends and relatives because I was so unhappy with myself that I didn’t feel like engaging with anyone.

    Thankfully, some relationships are beyond formalities. Even if you don’t make the effort to connect with them, they are always there for you to love you, support you in your tough times, and bring you back on track. I call them soul-to-soul connections, and I am lucky to have those people in my life.

    Sometimes it becomes important to see yourself through the eyes of people who truly like you and accept you wholeheartedly.

    I shifted my attention to them and started analyzing why they like me. I even made a list of things people like about me.

    I desperately wanted to be that person again who was known for her smile, warmth, and jovial nature. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling upset and bad about myself.

    Being a psychology graduate, it’s my hobby to study and analyze others’ behavior. I couldn’t resist doing that with the person who dislikes me. I noticed that she has a habit of complaining about everything in her life. And everything has to be her way.

    Everyone in her family conformed to her way of doing things because they wanted to please her. Since I never did that, I couldn’t fit in her idea of a perfect relationship.

    It reminds me of something my boss once said: “Don’t make your problem my problem.”

    I realized that it wasn’t me; it was her insecurities.

    She wanted to maintain her authoritative style of leading the family. She thought that if I did not follow her, she would lose her importance. That’s why she wanted me to change my lifestyle.

    She expected everyone to follow her ideologies and prioritize things she wanted. She compared me with those who always followed her and never questioned her way of doing things. And she started disliking me just because my lifestyle, priorities and ideologies were different from hers.

    It was wrong on my part to expect that everyone should like me. It’s human nature to want people to like us, but it’s not healthy to dwell if they don’t.

    I learned from this bitter experience that you cannot force anyone to like you, but you can like yourself for who you are. How others will perceive you is none of your business. As long as you are happy and satisfied with yourself, you are good to go.

    Change yourself if you have a good reason, but not to please anyone else.

    Another important lesson I learned that if someone is not happy with herself and her life, no one can make her happy. As Marcus Aurelius correctly said, “The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts.”

    I learned my lesson and decided to move on. My life started rocking again. I started connecting with my old friends, family, and made new friends.

    The moment I changed my actions and started doing things that make me happy I noticed a ripple effect. I became the same old person, laughing, giggling, and enjoying life to the fullest. The same can happen for you if you stop focusing on others and start focusing on yourself.

  • 4 Ways to Have More Affectionate, Loving Relationships

    4 Ways to Have More Affectionate, Loving Relationships

    Couple Hugging

    “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” ~Simone Weil

    This morning I was busy French pressing coffee for my husband and me. Everything was going great; I was happily humming along, looking forward to starting my day. My lovely husband came up behind me and bear hugged me gently.

    Now, I’ll admit that I don’t usually take this well when I’m in the middle of something. If I’m cooking (which I’m particularly serious about), I’ve been known to push him away and say something along the lines of “I’m cooking! Back!”

    This is not sensitive or caring. It’s more of a “get-off-me-I’m-working” reaction that I’ve been working on.

    To my husband’s credit, he usually responds fine and continues about his business seemingly undeterred from future affection. I apologize later, and he doesn’t seem to take offense.

    After an interaction like this, I feel embarrassed and ashamed of how I’ve responded to his attempts at closeness. I worry that if I keep pushing him away, eventually he’ll just stay away for good. The very idea itself makes me feel sad and repentant.

    Today, however, when he came over and hugged me from behind, I had enough good sense not to push him away.

    I took the opportunity for some bonding time with him, which made my morning. I actually had to have the conscious thought that I should stop the urge to push him away and instead be receptive.

    Instead of getting caught up in what I was doing, I stopped myself and let him foster closeness between us.

    Today, I was receptive.

    Today, I let myself get swept up in the moment instead of worrying about the coffee getting cold, or burning dinner, or the myriad of other little nagging things that seem more important in the sweet little moments like this.

    My priorities are woefully out of whack if I think that preventing my coffee from getting cold is more important than connecting with someone who isn’t afraid to come over to me for the 4,345 time when I’m in the middle of something, even though he knows he’s likely to get the cold shoulder.

    What if one day he gives up? I’ll admit, I probably would have given up already if I were him. It’s embarrassing to admit that my skin isn’t nearly as thick as his has been when it comes to affection.

    In fact, so often, haven’t I shown through my actions that a deeper connection was not my priority?

    That admission stings. If I’m really honest, in the past, a lack of mindfulness about how I handle affection has led me to prioritize tons of things above my relationships. I have allowed things of little importance to often take priority over connecting with the people who I love most.

    How often do we push our partners away and refuse to connect without quite seeing it that way? How often do we reject their advances, when if we thought about it, we actually desire more closeness? How long do we have before we push the other person away forever, only to wonder later what went wrong?

    Of course, I never consciously intend to make my partner feel rejected, but how often do I reject him anyway, bumbling through our life together? How often could I be nicer, or less stressed, or more receptive?

    How often do the people in our lives who are most important to us suffer because we are too busy, or too clueless to notice?

    No matter what the reason is, what if we’re sacrificing the everyday events that have lasting potential to bring us closer?

    I can do big things that are meant to connect with my partner. For example, I can suggest and plan out a weekly date nights, but if I’m downright cold and repellant in the tender, everyday moments that are his idea, pretty soon, I will drive away the very connection that I truly long for.

    It won’t matter if we try to formally “plan” times to be affectionate or if I make sure to approach him often on my own terms.

    What if we’re doing this not just with our intimate partners, but also with the rest of the important people in our lives? What if we’re providing negative reinforcement when, if we were more conscious of it, we would actually want to allow more closeness?

    It’s so common to take the closest relationships in our lives for granted. That’s why it’s so vitally important to take the time to nurture the little connections that we have with each other, every day. In this way, love is a practice, just like connection takes practice.

    It’s the small things, once again, that truly matter with someone we love. It’s taking the time to listen to them when we’re tired and would rather do something else. It’s not shutting them down when they show us little acts of affection. It’s receptivity and openness to connection, as well as getting our priorities straight.

    Since I’ve been struggling to change this reluctance to connect on someone else’s terms, here are four things that I’ve learned help to bring someone closer in the moment.

    1. Awareness.

    Notice the ways, both small and large, in which others try to create connections with you. If we wait for them to approach us perfectly or in the exact moments we’re thinking about it, we miss so much.

    2. Receptivity.

    Being aware is important, but so is being receptive to a connection. If we acknowledge and then open ourselves to connecting with others, it’s clearly going to foster more connection than if we are aware but not receptive (like my cooking example above).

    Being receptive involves staying aware of the greater good in our most important relationships, namely saying “yes” to more love, more connection, and more closeness from others. It’s not turning down the hug or pushing someone away in the moment. It’s apologizing if we fail at these things.

    3. Appreciation.

    Appreciation is key to positively reinforcing someone’s attempts to get closer to us. If I allow myself to be selfish or distracted and fail to positively acknowledge my partner’s attempts to connect with me, I’m not only pushing him away in that moment, but I’m effectively blocking future connection.

    If I don’t nurture the connections that matter the most to me, I won’t have connections with the people I love. That is the inevitable, preventable, awful consequence of failing to provide positive reinforcement.

    This is about recognizing the little things, with heartfelt thank you’s and big hugs. It’s having an eye toward acknowledging people’s efforts, and providing them with a positive experience when they interact with me.

    4. Reciprocity.

    Rather than saving up our affection and positive attention for when we’re really feeling it (or say, date night), maybe it’s better to make a practice of reciprocating our partner’s affections even when we’re tired, distracted, or not quite interested.

    Giving them the gift of our attention is such a strong tool for nurturing them and the relationship that it shouldn’t be saved for the exact, right moment when we feel like sharing our affections. Maybe it’s more effective to resolve to share and connect with the people we care about whenever they reach out to us.

    And… try not to push your spouse away when they’re happily giving you a bear hug.

    Couple hugging image via Shutterstock