Tiny Buddha

Category: love & relationships

  • Why It’s Not Selfish to Ask Someone You Love for Help

    Why It’s Not Selfish to Ask Someone You Love for Help

    Two People

    “Learn to appreciate what you have before time makes you appreciate what you had.” ~Unknown

    I’m a woman in midlife who thought she was set after a long successful career and the promise of financial security. I supported my own way through most of my life, fending for myself and then my two children, even during a 15-year marriage that ended badly and another that never really began.

    For a number of reasons my plans for an early and secure retirement ended a few years ago. The long story is for another time; the short story is health, burnout, spiritual growth, reorganization…life.

    A few months later, my oldest daughter announced she was engaged. I wanted to do for her what I always had been able to—give her what she wants—but I was no longer able to. 

    Now the wedding is only weeks away and the final plans and payments are being secured. More than we expected of course, despite her diligent attention to adhering to a modest budget.

    “You don’t have to, but I was just wondering…if you can…can you send more money? If you can’t, it’s okay. We will spend our own money,” she requested by e-mail reluctantly.

    On the one hand, I wanted to just say, “Yes, of course,” no questions asked; on the other, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to draw boundaries and to not do more than I was able.

    But on the hand that holds my heart, she was my little girl about to get married, and I didn’t know how to say no. 

    But how could I say yes, with mounting medical bills, another year of tuition for my other daughter, and having found myself unemployed and unable to work for more than two years? 

    I had never done this before, but in a quizzical moment that felt something like an inspiration, I decided to call my parents.

    My parents struggled financially for most of their life, but in their senior years they found themselves able to live fairly comfortably on their fixed incomes, with some money in the bank.

    I had never asked them for help before, and at 54 years old—having taken care of my own needs without help my whole life—it felt like some sort of failure on my part to make this choice.

    But for the sake of my daughter, I had to.

    My Dad picked up the phone, as I had hoped he would, and my Mom was out, as I hoped she would be. Daddy’s little girl and all. A much easier appeal.

    At first I felt so bad having to ask my Dad for money. I didn’t ask for much, but for a man who never was able to give much, not much is a lot.  

    I cried, and he tried to soothe me, hardly able to stand his little girl crying. Only now his “little girl” is 54 and he’s 80.

    He’s starting to break down. Little things, I can tell. But still, we are father and daughter, you know?

    He didn’t hesitate. He said he wished he could have done more. He said, “You are my flesh and blood.”

    Then soon after, I stopped feeling bad. I think I actually started to believe I made him feel good. He got to be a hero today.  

    It’s still such a small gesture, but such a large one.

    After I got off the phone I saw it all differently. There was indeed some goodness that came from my shame of not working and not making my own money right now—a chance to let him shine, to help. In a small way but a big way at the same time.

    Suddenly, I felt glad that I’d asked, and that I hadn’t let my ego need to show up as strong and infallible outweigh my daughter’s need, my need, and my Dad’s (and Mom’s) willingness and ability to become a hero for our family.

    I’m glad he got to do it. I’m thinking he needed to, in a way. Something for him to leave of himself before he goes.

    This whole experience made me realize something else, which was even more profound. I’ve had my parents around for so long that I’ve been lulled into believing they always will be.

    I’m lucky and grateful to be this age and to still have my parents—both of them to call on, and even more so for them to be there for me.

    I have not given much thought to what it would be like to no longer have them, but this exchange gave me the opportunity to realize that I’m really going to miss them when they do pass on.

    It will be strange and empty and weird when there physical presence is no more. In their own way, they have always been there, no matter what.

    I think my Dad got to be a hero today. And my daughter gets to have the wedding she wants.  And in some indirect way, I got to give each of these to both of them.

    Give someone you love this chance if it comes up. Don’t view it as weak or vulnerable to allow someone to step into their light and glory, and to give of themselves in a way that makes them feel good.

    Photo by Thejas

  • Discovering the Elusive Truth and Falling in Love with Yourself

    Discovering the Elusive Truth and Falling in Love with Yourself

    Woman and Trees

    “Pleasure can be supported by an illusion, but happiness rests upon truth.” ~Sebastien-Roch Nicolas De Chamfort

    In today’s world, we are bombarded day by day and moment by moment with images and messages of who we should be, what we should be doing, and exactly how we should be doing it.

    The promises of happiness and fulfillment in those mirages of ultimate perfection are all too often shallow and elusive, constantly evading us and leading us time and time again to nothing more than dead ends and empty hopes.

    With a natural craving for transcendence and supremacy, we grab our running gear and join the race for self-realization in our fast-paced, “keeping up with the Jones’” society, and along the way we all, at one time or another, face plant into our own pitfalls and potholes.

    As soon as we reach for the first “promise,” we begin to discover the hollow hub inside, but fooled into taking the bait, we keep striving for the next, and then the next, and then the next.

    It becomes a game of never ending striving for something more, but the nature of exactly what that something is remains a masked figure, unknown to many.

    For most of us, the growing disappointment over the sense that something is amiss within us can become our greatest enemy—the enemy of self-destruction. This slow, sly beast can manifest as jealousy, greed, addictions, depression, and so on and so forth.

    We all face our own monsters and we all fight with different weapons, but the one thing that is constant from one person to the next is that we are all engaged in war. We are all engaged in this battle of the heart (truth) versus the mind (illusion).

    My illusion was based in idealization. I took pleasure in every small step toward being the ideal daughter or the ideal sister. I rejoiced in every pound dropped from my already slender young body as I approached what I thought was the ideal frame for a young woman. I found comfort in recognition through reaching various ideal standards of success and accomplishment.

    But whatever joy I managed to harness in these pursuits was quickly swallowed by something deeper, by the discontent produced by some unnamed, unacknowledged stirring of my soul that was being suffocated by the siren’s song of superficiality.

    As such, I slowly began to lose myself. I gradually began to kill my spirit with self-medication through a cycle of anorexia and bulimia. I lost myself in the potholes of my own journey toward self-realization, and I no longer knew the truth of who I was.

    After five years of living in the dungeon of desolation and desperation, I realized that the only thing keeping me shackled to sorrow and sickness was my own mind.

    I realized that if I was going to insist on restricting, I needed to restrict the amount of negative self-talk I had allowed to infiltrate my mind instead of restricting the amount of food I allowed to enter my mouth.

    If I was going to binge, I needed to binge on opportunities to make meaningful memories with friends and family instead of binging on anything and everything I could find in the kitchen.

    If I was going to insist on purging, I needed to purge through tears, laughter, and signs of affection instead of purging up the remains of my last meal.

    If I was going to be free, I needed to be authentically me.

    The journey toward our center takes us through the wilderness of the unknown, and my own journey has been no exception. The most terrifying part of the wilderness we travel through is coming face to face with the unknown in and of itself.

    Most addictions are imbued with a familiarity of numbness, which is developed as a “survival skill” in order to avoid the potential pain of feeling. However, feelings themselves became my compass out of the wilderness and back to the homeland.

    I had to learn that opening my mind to noticing how I was feeling, whether it was upset, depressed, or lethargic, also opened my mind to realizing the thoughts behind the feelings—the thoughts that said, “You’re not worthy of success,” “You’re unfit for that group,” or “You’ll never amount to much.”

    The more I allowed myself to feel, the freer I became, and I was soon able to start countering my reflexive thoughts with positive affirmations, words that honored me and showered me with self-love and self-respect.

    As I began to make the transition toward my own inner truth, I stopped seeing myself as the world told me I should be, and instead saw myself in the light of who I was made to be. I began to feel whole.

    We are all made to be unique, and that’s what makes us beautiful. If I can leave you with one word to help you unlock your own individual journey, it’s intentionality.

    Your intention to connect with yourself must come from within your own heart and it must be grounded in your own desire to find yourself in the fog. Intention rooted in outside influence is nearly always an unstable, temporary bandage that will peel away when faced with a strong tug of opposition.

    Since every person is unique, the game plan can remain open for interpretation, but as soon as you set your intention, you unlock the doorway that allows the game plan to begin to play out.

    Intention. That is the key. Be open to tweaking the plays and the passes along the way, and be flexible with the free space in between. Above all, always remember to take time to be still and listen to your heart.

    To find the truth of your heart is to fall in love with yourself. To find and connect with the song of your soul is to sing a melody of contentment and peace.

    Photo by Martinak15

  • 5 Tips to Stop Making Comparisons and Feeling Bad About Yourself

    5 Tips to Stop Making Comparisons and Feeling Bad About Yourself

    “The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.” ~Steve Furtick

    I remember one day when I was around six years old, my older brother came home from school with one of those star-shaped highlighters that had a different color on each point. I laid my eyes on it and in that moment I wanted nothing more than I wanted that highlighter.

    It didn’t matter that as a six year old, I had less use for it than paper shoes in rainy weather; I just simply had to have it.

    Being the loudmouth child that I was, with a scream my mum only describes as “hell-breaking loose,” I fought (cried) tooth and nail for that highlighter until my father made my brother give it to me.

    I scribbled an obscure masterpiece of color for a solid five minutes—until my pupils dilated at the new pencil case my brother had pulled out of his school-bag. It’s safe to say my brother sure didn’t like my company for a while. Anything he had, I wanted.

    This wasn’t just an innocent childish trait. It seemed to follow me as I grew a little older too. I found myself wanting many things other people had.

    It didn’t have to be tangible. In fact, most of the time it was a character trait, a skill, or even academic ability. I always wanted something somebody else had.

    The problem was that it was no longer a case of just wanting the highlighter; I was putting myself down and getting frustrated at why I wasn’t given one, or why I wasn’t capable enough to get my own.

    The self-doubt questions start seeping in: Am I good enough? Why can’t I do this or have that? Am I ever going to achieve the things others seem to so easily? Why is it so hard for me to be happy and easy for everybody else?

    The thing with comparing ourselves to others is that it’s something every one of us does, or at least has done in the past.

    Remember coming home with a 95% on an exam? One of the first things our parents would ask is (second to “what happened to the other 5%?”): “How did everybody else in your class do on the test?”

    It seemed like it didn’t matter that we had gotten an A+, not if everybody else did too.

    It is always a comparison. In fact, education boards compare schools, teachers compare students, and employers compare interviewees. It’s just how the world works. It’s inevitable that we will learn to compare.

    At an individual level, we might attend parties or ten-year high school reunions and analyze in fine detail what successes everybody has achieved in their lives, and our drive home consists of brooding, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong for us.

    If that wasn’t bad enough, enter: Facebook. Correction, social media as a whole has taken the lead in creating an online universal medium for comparisons all day every day!

    Now we know instantly when our friends are lying on a sandy white beach while we’re slaving away at a nine to five, which we have probably loathed for eight years.

    We see our friends getting married, and we can’t help but think about why we haven’t settled down yet. Our Facebook News Feed is filled with photos of couples with their first new-born, and we ask ourselves if we’ve missed our chance at having a family.

    We need to remember that on the outside, things may seem a certain way, but it’s almost always inaccurate. And that leaves our comparisons with very little basis.

    We’ve heard the phrase “Everyone’s fighting their own battle.” I had a friend once tell me that, on the outside, I looked like I lived a princess lifestyle. Princess!

    Apparently, I always had a smile on my face. I joked around, and seemed as though I hadn’t a single worry in the world. After she got to know more about me, she said she would never have guessed I had the problems I was actually dealing with at the time.

    Personally, I don’t recall having a particular incident happen to me that prompted a change. Perhaps it was just my gradual disinterest in other people’s lives and a heightened interest to focus on my own.

    But I realized there was zero benefit from comparing myself to others. Emotionally, it would only bring me down, and mentally, it immobilized me. No progression occurs at a standstill like that.

    Whether it’s something innate that we develop as kids, or something we’ve learned from the nature of our society today, we compare. And although logically we know comparisons are no good for us, we still can’t help doing it.

    So how do we actually stop?

    1. Appreciate what you do have.

    I realized it had never crossed my mind that perhaps someone out there could be looking at me, wishing for something that I had. When you’re lost in a world of comparisons, your focus is always outward, analyzing others. You forget that you already have a million and one things to be forever grateful for.

    2. It’s not a fair game.

    As our man Einstein says, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

    We’re all different, we see things differently, we’ve all had different experiences and come from different backgrounds. So comparing ourselves to others is synonymous to comparing a fish to a monkey.

    3. Things aren’t always what they seem.

    For some odd reason, we tend to make up our own judgments on people just on the way they look on the outside. You may look at two people working at the same firm, judge them both, and wish to have their position, but what you don’t know is while one may have got the job through his father’s connections, the other had worked twenty years at the bottom of the gutter to get where he is now.

    4. If you must compare, compare to yourself.

    Some people use comparisons and convert it into motivation. And for those who can do that, go for it. It’s definitely a positive spin; perhaps seeing someone’s success drives you to do the same.

    I often use this one, but I also believe that the best person to compare yourself to is you. Compare the present you to the past you. It’s a much fairer scale and a sure way to progression and peace of mind.

    5. Accept what you can’t change and change what you can’t accept.

    Leading on from the last tip, change the things you want to and when you have, compare back to yourself and see how much you changed for the better. And with the things you can’t change, accept that it was how you are supposed to be—own it, live it, love it.

    If you want to take one thing from this post, take my favorite: The only person you should be comparing yourself to is the person you were yesterday.

  • Loving Others Without Expecting Them to Fill a Void

    Loving Others Without Expecting Them to Fill a Void

    couple

    “You must love in such a way that the other person feels free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Conventional notions of what it means to love are populated with expectations for reciprocity, which often gets us into trouble. I know this personally, because whenever I have “freely” given my love and it has not been rewarded with reciprocity, I have often come face to face with my resentment.

    This has been especially true of my intimate relationships. I want the people who fall into this category, in particular, to reciprocate my love. I expect them to. But, as Thich Nhat Hanh points out, love is expansive, not constrictive.

    I had a boyfriend once, for example, who seemed to genuinely like spending time with me, but didn’t make our relationship a priority. This was a guy who was pretty laid back in general, and so I discounted his reserve and tried to be patient, thinking we’d eventually turn a corner.

    What became clear, over the course of four years, is that my patience was thinly veiling a whole host of disappointed expectations for reciprocity. And in the end I felt angry and betrayed.

    The question is: by whom really?

    When some time had passed and I was able to look back on the situation with a little more objectivity, it became clear that I’d entered into the relationship with typical expectations for attention, time, comfort, and affection—in other words, an agenda.

    I don’t mean to say there is anything wrong with wanting to be loved. There isn’t. It is a good and natural impulse.

    We all deserve the love of our intimate others and should be careful to choose partners whose love for us is a natural, abundant outpouring of their feelings, and investment in us and our wellbeing.

    The desire to be loved—to the extent that it is fueled by any underlying agendas or feelings of isolation and loneliness—can be very problematic. It often turns a relationship into some version of, “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine.” And love isn’t contractual.

    However, bargaining is, and this, unfortunately, was the weak foundation on which my own compromised relationship stood and faltered. He failed to invest in the relationship while taking advantage of all the intimate benefits, and I failed to draw good boundaries; I settled for being used, rather than being loved.

    Revealed in all this was the fact that I hadn’t exactly been looking after my own needs very well. I’d neglected and betrayed myself, in some sense, and needed to assume greater responsibility for my own personal happiness.

    To that end I began a quest to locate the sense of inner contentment and satisfaction I so craved, but was not in possession of. I read books, magazines, watched films, and made note of what resonated with me and what did not—what stirred my enthusiasm, what made sense.

    I became more curious about my inner life. An act of love in itself.

    Later, I began a regular practice of journal writing and meditation. I’m a big believer in the contemplative arts, which, for me, can include things like painting, running, swimming, knitting—almost anything that helps you reach a more contemplative state of mind. For me this was huge.

    What I have learned the hard way is that a robust love stands the best chance of materializing between people who have ripened sufficiently as individuals. And it is always a work in progress.

    Love is never complete. Just as life is always moving and re-shaping itself, this is true with love.

    Thus, loving in such a way that the person we love feels free is as simple and straightforward as it is complex and discursive.

    Essentially, we need to practice being the love we wish to see in the world, and that requires a deeply rooted sense of reverence and respect for ourselves, our intimate others, and the wonderfully complex, exquisitely vulnerable, flawed humanity we share.

    It requires making mistakes, making amends, and trying to manage matters with an increasing degree of skill and intelligence, not to mention forgiveness.

    Here is a lovely quote by Rumi that really gets to the heart of the matter.

    And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth

    “You owe me.”

    Look what happens with love like that.

    It lights up the sky.

    Which is to say, we need to be love. That is all there really is to it in the end—simple, but not easy, as with most things worth striving for in life. Then the love returned by others can be received as the gift that it is.

    Ultimately, love is its own reward. Generous. Expansive. Inclusive. Receptive. Liberating.

    Love well, live well!

    Photo by mrhayata

  • Preserving Kindness in a Busy World: We Are All Connected

    Preserving Kindness in a Busy World: We Are All Connected

    We Are All Connected

    “The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest good intention.” ~Oscar Wilde

    Three times in the last two months I have nearly been run over by a fellow shopper’s grocery cart. Each time the customer rushing closely behind me had to suddenly swerve and push past, clearly annoyed with the obstacle, which was me.

    As unpleasant as this was, I can relate to that shopper’s sense of urgency. Grocery shopping is one of my least favorite tasks. I focus on my list, sometimes while talking on the phone, and get done as quickly as possible.

    There has always been busyness and stress to distract us from one another. Now with the pervasiveness of smart phones, there are requests for our attention always at our fingertips, pulling us away from the people right in front of us.

    When I focus exclusively on my own needs I, too, am oblivious to the people around me.  

    I used to take my grandmother to the grocery store, when she was still determined to do her own shopping. Long suffering with emphysema, it took a tremendous amount of energy for her to get dressed and go on such an outing.

    As she rode around in her scooter while I walked in tandem, she always had a smile for the ladies behind the deli counter who remembered her name. At check out, too, the clerks recognized her and would say how good it was to see her. Once in a while another shopper would look at her and share a friendly greeting.

    In those moments I glimpsed my grandmother’s younger, playful self as she bantered back and forth, eager to experience those connections again.

    I felt overflowing gratitude for these small acts of kindness. These folks could easily have continued about their day without pausing to acknowledge this frail woman. Such a small effort on their part became a high point that would set the tone for the rest of my grandmother’s day.

    The reason she persevered in doing her own shopping was not the independence of getting her own groceries; it was the shared humanity she experienced in these small acts of kindness.

    The conversations with the salesclerks and the few shoppers who smiled and greeted her buoyed her spirits beyond anything I alone could provide.

    In the produce section recently I was considering my mental shopping list when a woman approached. She paused a moment to gaze at the heads of red leaf lettuce. Then she turned to me and beamed,

    “Aren’t they just so pretty?!”

    She happily picked one up and continued shopping. As I paused in front of the lettuces I realized they were quite lovely. And I smiled.

    In one simple, refreshing comment that woman shared an acknowledgement of me.

    She saw me, affirmed our shared experience, and presumed that I, too, would value the beauty laid before us.

    My life is full. I am not seeking friendship in the grocery store.

    But in that simple exchange I was reminded that we are all connected to one another.

    I recently read that “among our most powerful human motive is the desire to form and maintain social bonds.” (Baumerstein & Leary.) We are social beings. No matter how busy or independent we are, our actions affect others.

    With that in mind, while I was at the grocery today I made a few changes.

    Slow down.

    I walked at a steady pace. No speeding down the aisles.

    At the freezer aisle a lady in a scooter asked me for help. This never happened when I was racing through the aisles. I gladly reached what she needed.

    Observe.

    I looked around me and made eye contact with several people. I stayed off my phone.

    In the cereal aisle I noticed a woman with two young children, and I smiled at her.

    Stay present.

    At the check out, an older gentleman ahead of me turned around hesitantly. On making eye contact he initiated a conversation about his wife who passed away. It was a brief exchange that never would have happened had I been checking my email on my smart phone.

    I will never know how these small acts of kindness affected anyone else today. But I do know that I respected my connection to these strangers by being fully present in those moments.

    Being open to others might take us away briefly from our multitasking, busy lives. But by doing so we honor the inherent value in ourselves and each other. And nobody is left feeling like a speed bump in the grocery aisle of life.

    Photo by Steve Hardy

  • Don’t Respond to Drama and Drama Won’t Come Back Around

    Don’t Respond to Drama and Drama Won’t Come Back Around

    “When you are not honoring the present moment by allowing it to be, you are creating drama.” – Eckhart Tolle

    One day several years ago, I was fraught with anxiety over with how to handle an uncomfortable personnel situation at work. I had an employee that was borderline explosive and insubordinate. I was a wreck over how to best handle the situation because before I was this employee’s manager, I was her friend.

    I found myself wanting to fix the problem by delving deeper into her drama, wanting to know why she felt a certain way, what I had done to contribute to it, and how we could work it out.

    Don’t get me wrong, I am all for conflict resolution and open communication. However, in this case, my employee was demonstrating signs of intense emotions that had the whirlwind energy of a cyclone.

    Her behavior and outbursts were unpredictable and inappropriate for the workplace.

    Her complaints, when listened to with close attention and discernment, were emotionally charged from unresolved personal wounds from the past. The drama— the whirlwind frenzy—was playing itself out in our present time employer/employee relationship, but it had nothing to do with me.

    I knew I needed to step back from this situation to calm my own reaction and fear. I too was becoming overly emotionally charged because of my own insecurities and unmet needs as a new manager.

    I was about to try to resolve her personal pain by bringing in my own whirlwind frenzy of emotions. Not a good idea.

    I needed to practice mindfulness and step into a space of neutrality. A space where my drama and baggage had a zero electrical charge. A space where her pain could not feed off of my pain.

    Was I successful? No.

    However, I did learn a big life lesson that I have been successful with practicing since this encounter: Don’t respond to drama and the drama won’t come back around.

    Drama loves more drama. Pain loves more pain. Negativity loves more negativity.

    With the practice of mindfulness it is possible to not respond to drama. If drama comes into contact with neutrality, it fizzles.

    How is it possible to not respond to drama? The first step is to recognize drama when it is in front of you. It is also critical to recognize if you are bringing the drama.

    Here are three ways to recognize signs of drama:

    You feel passion.

    Passion can be a wonderful experience. It can also fuel dysfunctional behavior and cause you to react without thinking.

    Signs that you are feeling passion include feeling a rush of energy pass through your body, a red face, an increased heart rate, butterflies in your stomach, flared nostrils, or shaky hands.

    Passion can also show up as emotionally charged thoughts and judgments. These include strong feelings of right or wrong, disbelief, blame, sadness, or a vehement desire for justice.

    The words spoken and behavior demonstrated don’t match.

    If someone is saying one thing and doing another, this is a sign of drama. Do not be fooled. What you see is exactly what it is.

    Be the witness of your experience and observe this discrepancy. If someone is telling you they do not mean to be rude, but proceed to offer a berating or condescending comment, trouble is in front of you.

    It feels urgent.

    Very few things in life are really urgent. Urgent qualifies as escaping from a burning building or swerving to miss an oncoming vehicle.

    Many times drama presents itself in the form of pressure that feels urgent. A false sense of urgency can be imprinted on you from another person’s frenzy of charged emotions. Urgency can also emerge from feelings that you are responsible for someone else’s situation.

    If something is not life threatening and you are told it needs to be done right now and you feel a sense of compression or fear, chances are, drama is in front of you.

    Once you practice recognizing drama, you are better equipped to not respond to it which in turn, allows drama to dissolve and stop in its tracks.

    Try these three practices to not respond to drama:

    Observe your body sensations, thoughts, and emotions.

    Mindfulness meditation teaches us to be the witness of our experience. It teaches us that we are not our bodies, not our thoughts, and not our emotions. It teaches us to develop a witness consciousness and be the third party observer of our experience.

    The more you are able to be the witness of your experience instead of identifying with the experience, the more easily you are able to discern the truth and make better choices.

    If you notice your heart rate increasing or your face flushing, let that be your cue to physically step away from the situation. Be present with your sensations and use your breath and mindfulness skills to bring you to a state of physical and emotional homeostasis where your muscles are relaxed and your breath is slow and even.

    Once the body, thoughts, and emotions are back to neutral, re-approach the situation from a grounded and centered place.

    Create a sense of spaciousness.

    Many times being around drama feels like compression, buzzing, or a whirlwind.

    You may notice you holding your breath as lots of people talk at once. You may notice drama feeding off of itself as voice speed, volume, and tone increase.

    Create space in these situations by softening your facial muscles, letting the jaw slightly part, gazing downward, and breathing slowly. Pay attention to the abdomen as your breath in and out to bring space to the body.

    By bringing space to the body, you bring more space to your thoughts and less opportunity to react. Your spaciousness also serves as an orientation point so the drama around you can loosen its grip. By loosening its grip, there is more opportunity for change.

    Sit with the discomfort.

    Not responding to drama is a practice. Not responding to drama means silence. It means not asking questions that take you deeper into the scenario. It means not agreeing or disagreeing, either with words or body language. Not responding means neutrality and not lending energy to the person or situation.

    This is a challenging practice. It feels uncomfortable.

    The most powerful thing you can do to remove drama from your life is sit with the discomfort of not responding.

    What you practice strengthens and gets easier with time.

    If drama comes into contact with neutrality, it fizzles.

    By not lending energy to something you do not want, you immediately create a closer connection to what you do want.

    If you want less drama in your life, drop your drama at the door. If you want more peace, be more peace.

    And remember…don’t respond to drama and drama won’t come back around.

    Peace to everyone and enjoy this practice!

  • Emotionally Overloaded: Are You Taking on Too Much of Other People’s Pain?

    Emotionally Overloaded: Are You Taking on Too Much of Other People’s Pain?

    “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” ~Havelock Ellis

    I would have done anything for my friends, until one of them nearly broke my heart and spirit. He was my best friend. We felt like platonic soul mates.

    We had a standing lunch date every week, called each other terms of endearment, cried together, laughed together—the standard best friend things.

    Then, tragedy struck him. Over and over.

    His long-time partner left him. Then he lost his executive-level job. Next, he had a string of major medical issues that put him in the hospital.

    He needed ongoing weekly treatments to stay alive. His restricted schedule and constant pain made him unable to find work. He ran out of money.

    One day he cried all through our lunch, and then asked for a loan so he could pay his bills that month. I gave him more than he asked for and plenty of time to pay it back.

    He needed an organ transplant ASAP, so I got tested to be a living donor.

    I listened and was there even when my mood and physical energy were drained because of his tears and constant complaints about his life being “a mess.” How could I not be there? He was going through hell.

    But so was I. But I felt like my problems were nothing compared to his, and he needed me because he had very few other true friends and a completely estranged family. We were best friends. It was my job to keep him company and to try to help him in any way possible.

    And then, one day he never confirmed our lunch like usual. He never showed up at all, and would not return my calls and texts. I got ahold of his other friends and family, and the following two weeks were possibly the worst of my life.

    He had turned to drugs to cope with the pain. It turns out he had been putting on an act in a lot of ways. The money I loaned him was probably to buy meth. I felt betrayed, confused, but mostly scared and panicked. I couldn’t lose him.

    I did everything in my power over those two weeks to help him. I got in touch with his family and landlord.

    My phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts, alerting me to his increasingly bizarre behavior—passing out in his hallway, urinating off the fire escape, casing the hotel next to his apartment for money and food, throwing all of his possessions into the dumpster and putting items out on the sidewalk to be taken away.

    He was trying to end his life. Numerous calls to police and wellness checks resulted in no benefit; he would appear of “sound health and mind.”

    He was smart, and had been involuntarily committed to the psych ward months earlier after a friend thought he was a danger to himself. He knew the right answers to give, and blamed his physical condition on his disease.

    He’s an adult, I was told. No one could force him to get help. But I kept trying every trick in the book to make him see the light and keep fighting for his life.

    Then, he cut me out. He stopped communicating entirely. I received a cashier’s check, no note, in the mail for the remainder of the loan. After years of almost daily contact, he was gone.

    And then, he died.

    The stages of grief hit me hard and fast. But one emotion hit me hardest of all: guilt. I felt I had missed something that would have saved him, like I had not done enough. But mostly I felt guilty because part of me felt relieved I could finally stop worrying about him. I could refocus on myself and healthier friendships.

    I had begun dreading many of our lunch dates. Would he be “a mess” again, crying in public, full of pessimism, unable to hope for a better tomorrow? I started taking on these emotions. Friends pointed out to me that my mood plummeted after time spent with him.

    Being his friend had simply become way too heavy a burden than I was able to carry. He was beyond help, because he chose not to help himself. He taught me three valuable lessons that have transformed the way I approach relationships.

    1. Trying your best to help someone is more than enough.

    Make a genuine but practical, self-caring effort. Sometimes you can’t do anything to help.

    2. If you start suffering ongoing, negative consequences from a relationship, it’s time to reassess.

    Maybe you need to be open about how the relationship is affecting you. Maybe you need to step back a bit and treat the relationship more casually. Or maybe you need to walk away.

    3. Everyone’s struggles are valid and important—especially your own.

    Don’t think that your issues aren’t serious or worthy of your attention just because someone you care about it going through “bigger” things. You can’t take care of anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself.

    If you have someone in your life who needs help, it’s okay to help carry part of their load temporarily, but you need to unload if it starts weighing you down too much. A best friend is their own best friend first.

  • When People See the Worst in You: Perceptions Aren’t Always Accurate

    When People See the Worst in You: Perceptions Aren’t Always Accurate

    “If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.” ~Virginia Woolf

    If you’ve ever listened to someone’s description or opinion of you and it sounded completely alien, you probably found yourself wondering where on earth they were coming from.

    We are told that on a universal, spiritual level, the way you perceive someone is more than just an opinion; it’s actually a reflection of you being projected onto that person.

    So if someone tells you that you’re beautiful, kind, or have a good heart, they can only do so because those qualities are present within them. Conversely, if you see someone as dishonest, unkind, or manipulative, that’s because you, yourself, are projecting those parts of you onto the other person.

    When I was going through the depths of healing from adultery and my marriage breakup, I recalled a lot of things my ex-husband told me about myself—some of which I accepted, a lot of which I did not.

    It was very important to me to use forgiveness, self-love, and a sense of perspective as my tools to move on. I worked hard on my own issues, and accepted responsibility for the things within me that had brought me that harsh experience.

    But I have always struggled with this concept that “you can only see in others what you have within you.”

    It’s not because I only want to believe the good things people say about me, or because I think I have no bad traits.

    It’s because when dealing with unacceptable or in some cases abusive behavior in life, it is very difficult to hear and accept that the negative conduct you have received from someone else is simply your own darkness being brought into the open, and nothing to do with the other person.

    This was how I had always interpreted such teachings, and doing so made me feel worse about myself instead of better.

    I now understand that it is possible to witness or observe a behavior objectively, for what it is, without necessarily being that yourself.

    This is true of both positive and negative interactions. For example, I can acknowledge and deeply admire those who can speak publicly with great confidence, but I don’t possess this ability.

    This is not a defeatist attitude or low self-esteem talking; it’s simply an observation. Likewise, I can see someone’s behavior toward me as negative or destructive, but know I’m not like that. I no longer feel the guilt of believing that in order to have observed it, I must be like that too.

    What I believe is that we all have is the potential for the behaviors we are being shown.

    I know that I have the potential for great public speaking, and I know I have the potential for manipulative or intolerant behavior. But though can I recognize these traits in others, it’s not who I choose to be right now.

    This is not intended as way to avoid responsibility for your own behavior, or an opportunity to judge others while saying “but I’m not like that.” But it is important to know, especially when we are feeling emotionally vulnerable, that sometimes it isn’t about us; it’s about them.

    Here are three ways of working out whether what a person says about you is really a reflection of themselves. It’s also useful and healthy to use this exercise from the opposite perspective to see if you are ever projecting your own issues onto another:

    1. Is their opinion about me something I’ve felt about myself?

    We have a deep knowledge of our own psyche—our fears, our dreams, our abilities, and our strengths and faults.

    Does what the other person is saying ring true on any level? If they are saying great things but the words sound hollow to you, it won’t really be about you. But if your heart lifts when someone calls you generous, it’s because you know you are, and they have struck a lovely chord.

    2. Is their opinion about me something I’ve been shown by other people?

    Although trusting your own inner knowing is vital, we are interactive creatures with varied experiences of each other.

    Unless you have a real Jekyll and Hyde personality, other people’s perceptions of you will be largely similar. So, if one person is telling you that you are arrogant and stubborn, while everyone else sees you as kind, patient, and tolerant, then it’s most likely that this one person is bringing their own issues into what they are saying about you.

    3. Do they have another agenda?

    Does the person telling you about yourself want something from you emotionally or physically? Are they speaking to you, or about you, from a place of love, or fear?

    If they have an agenda, then what you are being told about yourself, whether good or bad, is likely to be manipulation on their part and no reflection on you.

    So why are we being told and shown things by others’ behavior if it’s not actually about us?

    I believe that the actual message, whether it’s “you are selfish” or “you should be a professional dancer,” is not the end purpose of the exchange.

    It’s what we learn about ourselves from our response that really matters. Is the comment something we need to pursue or let go of? Does it require a reply or acknowledgement? What does it say about us if we accept what they say, or don’t?

    The things being presented to us through other people’s actions or words simply show us what we are capable of, not necessarily what we are.

    For me, encounters and interactions with others are ripe learning opportunities for growth. We learn to use discernment, tolerance, compassion, and gratitude. We are shown the potential to be strong inspiring and happy; we are also shown the potential to be fearful, negative and unloving.

    What we choose to be is up to us.

  • The Importance of Self-Love: See the Beauty Others See in You

    The Importance of Self-Love: See the Beauty Others See in You

    Beautiful you

    “When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you.” ~African Proverb

    A young woman in my town died recently. The cause was a drug overdose, although the precise circumstances of her death were unclear. She was a recovering addict, and the rumor was that she had relapsed. There was even some conjecture that her death might have been deliberate.

    In the end, no one was sure of anything except that she had died.

    The town in general and my family in particular were sent reeling. This girl was young, pretty, sweet—a talented artist who was loved by many, many people.

    Since her death, having compared notes with numerous people, I’m stunned to witness how many lives she touched and at how deep a level.

    For example, one close friend remembers her as his son’s first girlfriend. And my own son, who now lives in Central America, became close friends with her just before moving.

    My daughter met her several months ago and was excited by the prospect of getting to know her. (Both girls were artists and they had decided to get together soon to draw, paint, or maybe just hang out.)

    As for me, I met her about six years ago when I was bartending in a local inn. It was the middle of the night and she had just had a violent fight with an abusive boyfriend. She was a crying mess. I took her home to my own house so she could sleep in safety and peace.

    We loved each other instantly, and after that night we promised to pursue the friendship, although we never did. Occasionally, we would send warm greetings to each other through a third party. Often, I would run into someone who knew her but in fact, I never saw her again.

    I came to learn a lot about this girl second-hand. For example, some years earlier, she had dated the brother of a close friend and given birth to his son. It was then that she fell into the addiction.

    Because of her addiction, the baby was taken away from her to be raised by grandparents. This was the repetition of a pattern as she, herself, had been raised by a grandmother because her own mother was unfit. 

    Happily, in the case of her infant son, the baby’s young father stepped up to the plate and took over raising the child, since she wasn’t together enough to do it herself.

    After years of struggle, she’d finally cleaned up her act and was living on her own. It was during this time that she met my son. They spent some time together and he came home talking about her.

    She was struggling and unhappy, although she was painting again. But nine months later, she was dead.

    Looking at pictures of her at the memorial service brought back strong memories and feelings for me. In particular, I remembered the feeling this girl conveyed the night we met: despite her beauty and warmth, her low self-esteem was painfully apparent.

    During the days surrounding her death, countless tears were shed: My friend and his son cried together; my daughter and I consoled each other through our tears, as she described their meeting…

    “Mom, the very first thing she said to me was that I was beautiful and I was like, ‘No! You’re the beautiful one!’ I can’t believe it but she actually didn’t know how pretty she was.”

    My daughter’s words chilled me as I remembered… When I first met her, this lovely young woman looked up at me from a place of pain and said, “You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. I wish I were beautiful like you!”

    With that memory, the pieces fell into place: this attractive, kind, and lovely woman was able to see beauty everywhere except in the mirror. 

    Our entire town gathered together to mourn her death. What struck me most was how many people loved her and how many lives she impacted, and yet she had been oblivious to her own value and power.

    Had she known how many hearts she touched, she certainly would not have died so early and so pointlessly.

    It’s always a sad and unnatural thing when a young person leaves the earth, but in the case of my young friend there is a lesson to be learned.

    If we adjust our perspective away from the sadness of the story, we can observe that this lovely girl gave her life so that those around her could learn what she herself did not know: that self-love is not only desirable; it is crucial.

    In fact, without self-love we are in danger of losing our very lives.

    In our Judeo-Christian culture, we are taught that self-love is narcissism, and therefore, a sin. But actually, narcissism is not self-love at all but in fact, its direct opposite.

    The narcissist is obsessively concerned with self because underneath that obsession lies malignant inferiority and self-doubt. The stock of self-love is so depleted that there is not enough self-absorption in the world to fill the void.

    All love must begin with self-appreciation, for if we do not value ourselves, how can we ever honestly honor someone else? It is only when my being becomes a container, filled to overflowing with radiance, that I am able to convey that radiance to another.

    Personally, I refuse to allow this exceptional woman’s death to be meaningless. In her honor, I determine from this moment forward to see beauty and value in all of life, including in myself.

    I will appreciate my qualities and lovingly tolerate my defects. I will treat myself with compassion and gentleness. I will honor my feelings and speak my truth. I will ground myself in the present moment and live in life’s flow. I will receive the gifts that I was born with, as well as those the universe offers me on a daily basis, and I will share those gifts with the world.

    If we all do the same thing, this one life and death will no longer be a tragedy, but will become the pebble in the pond that sets in motion a ripple effect of love.

    Photo by Kiran Foster

  • How to Recognize and Help When Someone Needs Support

    How to Recognize and Help When Someone Needs Support

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

    After planning the next three months of my life in my head, trying to focus on my breath and recounting the plans for tomorrow, I decided my battle with insomnia was going to win. I got up, careful not to wake my husband, and decided to start reading.

    Nestling into the lines of my latest library book well after midnight, my phone began to beep.

    Even in the most quiet of the night, are we ever really alone?

    I thought to myself, who else could be awake at this hour? It was my twin sister all the way across the country, struggling with insomnia herself. Ready to share my latest updates with her, something in me encouraged me to ask how she was doing and why she was still awake.

    It was in the stillness of the evening that I slowed down to think of someone other than myself.

    I wondered, if the sun was brightly shining and I was carrying on with my own busyness, would I have answered her text message? If I were rushing through the day, would I have noticed her hint of sadness?

    She recounted the daily stressors and recent disagreement with a friend. In her written words, I sensed an echo of loneliness, a tinge of yearning for connection.

    So often in the busyness of our own self-absorbed lives we fail to notice when others are in need of connection. If we are in need, can’t we recognize that others are too?

    So many of us feel alone in our day-to-day trials, but as I remember learning as a young girl, when we focus our love on others, it betters our own hearts too.   

    How to take a few minutes out of your busy day for others:

    1. Do not hesitate to make the call.

    My sister-in-law started a movement within our family. Nonchalantly one night, she mentioned on my voicemail, “I decided if I’m thinking of someone to call right in that moment—and so I’m calling you,” she said.

    It does not take too much time just to say hi. Even if you cannot talk long, the gesture of your voice might be the song someone needs to hear.

    2. Write it out the old fashioned way.

    I’m a lover of stationary and stickers—the Internet’s nemeses. Nowadays, our mailboxes overflow with countless bills, excessive ads, and unwanted insurance offers.

    Be daring and surprise someone with a note, even if it’s just a few short sentences. You’ll only spend a few cents on postage, but your thought and care will be that bright treasure amongst the gloomy pile of trash.

    3. Imagine if it were you.

    When we hear about others’ problems, often times our objectivity offers a healthy perspective. Other times, however, it distances us from the emotional heartache and pain of those in need.

    When you hear the weakened voice of a loved one or look into fading eyes, try to open yourself wider and truly see the situation from their perspective. Genuinely saying, “I hear you” creates understanding and connection.

    4. Listen.

    I’m a talker and a fixer. When I hear someone’s problems, halfway through the story I want to rattle off my suggestions. But sometimes, we just need to vent. We need the ear of another to soak up the words of our wounds.

    I am learning this more and more each time I need to cry out and am not heard. We all have so much to say so often, so many times silence and a gentle nod of acceptance is what we really need.

    5. Think of your mother.

    What did we need when we were younger? Our mothers. No matter how diverse or painful our relationships were with our mothers or if they are no longer with us, we can all become that wise-feminine soul to stabilize the masculine vigor of our modern world.

    While action, goal setting, and swiftness are much needed, so are vulnerability, softness, and nurturing elements.

    6. Become a comedian.

    We hear about the positive biological impact of laughter. Be an advocate yourself. If you have offered time and encouragement, lighten the setting with a little laughter. Be sure to gauge your joke as not to offend but rather soothe.

    As my sister and I completed our novel length texts back and forth, she appreciated the words we shared and I saw our conversation as a compliment of her trust in me.

    We may not all have those two o’clock in the morning bonding opportunities with our siblings as the rest of the world dreams, but we all have twenty-four hours to seek out a wounded soul in need of our light.

     

  • Making Friends When You’re Afraid People Won’t Understand You

    Making Friends When You’re Afraid People Won’t Understand You

    Friends

    “The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one.” ~Elbert Hubbard

    Tonight I am troubled because I have graduated college, and as I am looking back, I am hyperaware of my losses.

    In the past few years, I have had the opportunity to make many friends and lose many friends, largely because of my inability to understand and articulate my bipolar disorder to others. I am ashamed at times because of the mood swings that others seem to dismiss as problems that are “all in my head.”

    I have lost countless friends, have had relationships end, and have had family members retract because of my seemingly endless cycles of depression and sudden elevation that makes it nearly impossible for others to “sync up” with me.

    It feels as though I am eternally trapped sometimes; even with medication and therapy, this illness still manifests itself in subtle ways, making intimacy (which I equate with understanding) very difficult.

    I have personally known friends and family members with disabilities and illnesses of their own who isolate themselves because they think the challenge of relating to others is too much.

    And I sympathize with them—it sometimes really is! These friends have started seeking out others with other illnesses; they’ve decided to select friends with similar traits versus values.

    It may seem like seeking out those similar traits will lead to understanding, but it won’t necessarily lead to solid relationships. Shared illness and disabilities don’t guarantee shared interests and priorities.

    Illnesses and disabilities don’t tell us who people are as people; it’s really about what they do with the cards they are dealt that reveals their character.

    Some people choose to align with others with similar traits because it’s easier than discovering what their values are. However, the connections made with values are a lot more authentic because values are self-made, not pre-determined.

    And as much as I personally want to give up on seeking these connections sometimes, I remember that we are all different in our own way, and most of us feel like there is some sort of deficit in us one way or another.

    If it’s not bipolar disorder, it may be one’s weight that one is unhappy about, one’s health status or family baggage that holds one back from putting oneself out there to the world. Vulnerability is hard!

    I don’t want to limit myself to only those who can understand me because they have the same illness. I am far too curious about the lives of others as well, although sometimes it is disheartening because I haven’t always had this reciprocated.

    I am conflicted about whether I should live a life of transparency and be upfront about my mental illness to those I meet because I am so afraid of being judged.

    The point is, I have put myself out there before, and the fact that I take personal responsibility, admitting that my moody behaviors have shocked, hurt, and offended others before, makes it both liberating and frustrating.

    I almost want to stop letting new people into my life; the weight of rejection feels like too much sometimes.

    There are a few things I remind myself to get out of this rut.

    1. The more I get to know myself, the more I can predict my tendencies and practice self-care.
    2. The more honest I am with others, the more honesty I am inviting from them, and the more likely I can help set the tone for intimacy.
    3. The more people I come to contact with, the more likely I will come across individuals who might be healthier for me and be in a place to work with me.
    4. The more people I come across, the more practice I will have in learning understanding, self-control, and compassion.
    5. The more I obsess about making a mistake with a new person, the more likely I will.

    Therefore, despite my failed friendships and relationships, I have strong conviction that the strongest relationships are those with deep commitment—and that the first and strongest relationship should be that which is with yourself.

    I have committed to not let past fears and rejection hold me back. This commitment is a type of freedom in itself, and a small model of what I can aspire to in relationships with others.

    Have you ever felt limited by the fear that others won’t understand you? What’s helped you overcome it?

    Photo by Nicole Abalde

  • 5 Ways To Embrace Ending Friendships and Relationships

    5 Ways To Embrace Ending Friendships and Relationships

    “Celebrate endings, for they precede new beginnings.” ~Jonathan Lockwood Huie

    One day when I was a kid, my best friend and I decided that we were going to bury a time capsule in the backyard. We gathered an old shoebox, some glitter and paint, and then spent the whole afternoon decorating this box that was the symbol of our best friend status for life.

    We filled it with some of our favorite items and pictures and then wandered around the yard in order to scope out the perfect location to bury our sacred box. We dug what we thought was a deep hole, placed the box inside, and covered it up.

    We made a pact to dig the box up together in five years.

    Not even five days passed before we were sprinting toward our special spot to dig up our friendship, only to discover someone had beaten us to it. As it turns out, my brother and his friend were watching from behind a tree as we buried the box a few days prior. Curiosity got the best of them.

    Unpredictable circumstances altered the outcome of our time capsule, just like growing up and having different interests altered the outcome of our friendship.

    Where did my childhood friend and I go wrong? We were supposed to be best friends for life. Life I say!

    Or maybe we didn’t go wrong. Maybe friendships and intimate relationships come with an expiration date of sorts.

    I’ve had many friendships I thought would last my whole life, but life surprised me, as it often does. As I look back, each friend or relationship that I’ve had made perfect sense for me that time in my life.

    I believe people are brought together for each person’s maximum spiritual growth. When the growth is done, it’s time to move on.

    That spiritual growth could take two minutes, two weeks, two months, two years, or a lifetime. Either way, when the time comes, the most powerful thing we can do is allow ourselves to move on and trust that everything is happening exactly as it should.

    Sometimes outside circumstances seemingly force our relationships to shift and move apart; other times it’s a decision you consciously make to walk away. However it happens, below are some ways you can move through changing relationships in the most positive and powerful way possible:

    1. Don’t be afraid to move on.

    As you learn and grow, so do your friendships and relationships. I really noticed this when I started committing to a spiritual practice every day. My circle of friends completely shifted. This is nothing to fear.

    It’s not a “good” or “bad’ thing, but it’s important to understand that throughout our lives, people are going to fall away. And who knows, they might be back, but all you do know now is that you’ve learned all that you can from each other at this time.

    When relationships and/or friendships end or shift, there is nothing to fear. Whether or not you realize it, everything always works out the way it’s meant to.

    2. Take responsibility.

    If the breakup was messy, or the friendship ended in a not so positive way, take responsibility for it. When you get to the point where you no longer blame someone else for how you feel, miraculous shifts occur.

    I often turn to my inner guide, the voice for love within me, and ask, “What is the spiritual lesson here?” Your power is always hidden behind the people and circumstance that disturb you the most.

    As some of my recent friendships evolved and fell away, I’ve discovered areas within myself that needed to be healed. The purpose of the relationship or the friendship was to show me those areas. Relationships can be amazing tools that catapult us to another level of peace and love.

    3. Trust that you always have everyone you need.

    This tiny idea can bring massive amounts of peace to your day. What if you woke up every morning knowing that every person you needed that day would be brought to you?

    I try and start my day with this idea because I immediately stop trying to control my reality, and instead, trust in my inner guidance a whole lot more.

    There is no one missing from this moment whom you need right now. If you’re sitting in a chair with no other bodies around, that’s because in this moment, your soul does not need anyone else to learn from.

    4. Get ready for new friendships and relationships.

    When you create the space for friendships and relationships that are not working to fall away, get ready, because new people who are more in-line with what your soul most needs to learn are on their way! This only becomes a fearful process when you forget that you’re always guided and that everything happens for you, not to you.

    5. Release your guilt.

    As I got more and more committed to praying, connecting to my true self, and meditating, I felt deep in my heart it was time for me to make some shifts in my outer world. That decision involved moving across the entire country, far away from family and all my friends.

    At first, a few of my close friends couldn’t understand why I was leaving, and for a brief moment I felt guilty about it. But I had to follow my path and trust that new people and experiences were on their way.

    Other people may not understand why you’re making the decision to move on, but that doesn’t matter. You can’t control what other people think. Always trust your heart and never feel guilty for it.

    No matter what, remember that every encounter is holy. Every person is a reflection of you. As you change, move, and grow, the reflections around you also change. Embrace them!

    There is no need to fearfully cling to relationships and friendships that are not working anymore. Rather, get excited about the new ones that are surely on their way. All changes are helpful.

  • When Relationships Change: Growing Together, Not Apart

    When Relationships Change: Growing Together, Not Apart

    Walking Together

    “Change is inevitable. Growth is intentional.” ~Glenda Cloud

    I got married three years ago right out of college. We had been together since freshman year, and lived together for two years. Still, we didn’t fully understand what was coming our way.

    I remember my parents telling me, “You know, marriage is a lot of work. It requires effort.” I fervently assured them that I understood, because I thought I did. But understanding something conceptually and experiencing that thing are two different animals.

    Our first year of marriage was fine. To be honest, I don’t remember too much about it. It was more of the same; just a couple of kids having fun.

    What I did not know then was that tiny hurts and resentments had begun to creep up on us. I believe these were unspoken, unconscious issues that had been present but overlooked throughout our relationship.

    The manifestation of these problems was subtle at first. It was just our usual way of operating; little jibes at each other, veiled judgments, stubborn protests. Nothing new, but something had changed.

    My wife took up Tango. I didn’t. She started going out more often. I stayed at home more and more. The rift that had already occurred between us had just been unmasked.

    We started fighting more often. In some cases, they were brutal, malicious, screaming fights. At a certain point we began to “accept” our situation.

    I decided I would just deal with it and do my best. But my idea of dealing with it was mortally flawed. I stopped protesting to her outings, and she began to spend more and more time away from home.

    The resentment built up inside both of us. There was almost no real communication happening. Sure, we had our good days, but in general, we cried more than we laughed.

    Finally, one night my wife didn’t come home. Neither of us called or texted. I went to bed alone, as I was wont to do those days, but I woke up in a panic around three in the morning when I realized she still wasn’t home.

    Then, I called, texted, worried, and repeated the process for two hours. She finally arrived home at 5am. She had been dancing all night. She did it to hurt me, because she was hurt.

    We were both in so much pain.

    The next day, we sat down with each other. I said that we could not go on this way. We both admitted how angry we were at one another. We were not well-versed in this type of conscious conversation, so we talked in circles.

    Yet, it was a turning point.

    We made two decisions. First, we would seek out couple’s therapy. Second, we would take a trial separation. This was heart wrenching. How had we gotten to this point?

    We began couple’s therapy and shortly thereafter realized that we both needed individual counseling. We were dealing with deep-seated emotional issues that we had never before confronted.

    The first eight months of counseling were difficult. During that time, we separated twice for a month each time. But once again, something had started to change…for the better this time.

    Our arguments slowly became less enraged screaming matches, and more constructive, intelligent conversations. This took months and many little breakthroughs.

    We started spending more quality time with each other, making the decision and the effort to really be with one another. We resolved to listen and stay present, and to be honest about what we were thinking and feeling. If you’ve been in a long-term relationship, you know how difficult that can be.

    Now, a year and half later, my wife and I are still in counseling, but our relationship is better than it has ever been. We make it a point to sit down and have a check-in conversation at least once a week, if not more.

    We have learned to compromise on our social endeavors. She still dances. In fact, she’s an incredible dancer. And I go with her when I can (though I’m no good). In turn, she spends more evenings at home with me when time and work permits. 

    Ultimately, what we learned was that if there was to be communication, we had to speak and listen to one another with intense presence, honesty, patience, and compassion. And above all, we realized that we had to accept that our relationship was changing, that it needed to change.

    When our problems first surfaced, things had stagnated. In many ways we had resisted change: the transition from student to working adult, from boy to man, from girlfriend to wife. But if we’re always resisting we never see what is right in front of us (or inside of us).

    What I’ve come to realize is that often we leave things unsaid because we believe broaching the issue will be more trouble than it’s worth. In turn, we get defensive when our partner is critical, even in a constructive way.

    In both cases, we are resisting what is and the opportunity to grow. It is a recipe for resentment, anger, and ultimately, apathy.

    I urge you to think of yourself in this light. Whether on a large or small level, how often do you resist what’s going on inside of you? No one wants to feel annoyed, hurt, angry, or sad. But if we feel that way, we must accept. Otherwise we suppress and miss an opportunity for self-growth.

    Only when we make the decision to acknowledge what is really there can we take the first steps toward healing. When that happens, we stop fighting the truth and are able to loosen the grip on all the pain to which we are so accustomed.

    Nothing is ever perfect, but we must remember that to live and to love is to change and to grow. We can resist it all we want, but change is inevitable.

    Growth, on the other hand, is conditional. It only happens when we choose to embrace change one moment at a time.

    Photo by Garry Knight

  • Opening Up to the Possibility of Love: 3 Things to Remember

    Opening Up to the Possibility of Love: 3 Things to Remember

    Sunset Couple

    “Love takes off the mask that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.”  ~James Arthur Baldwin

    I sat silent on one end of the phone. I could hear my own breath and heart pounding in my ears.  I was sitting on the precipice of greatness, and all I had to do was express what I was feeling. Sounds relatively straightforward, so why did I feel so anxious?

    To say that I have worked hard at rediscovering my authentic self would be an understatement. I have been on this quest in one form or fashion since I was seventeen, so about seventeen years now. And I have made significant progress, if that is the most correct way to label my journey.

    I have struggled with eating disorders and self-acceptance and self-love and compassion and kindness for others. I have done away with meaninglessness in my life for the most part. I have gotten away from placing importance on material possessions and have worked to simplify my life.

    I am more content and sure of myself and who I am than I have ever been. So why would uncomfortable silence throw me for such a loop at this stage in the game?

    To be perfectly honest, although I have demonstrated gains in areas of my life, I have yet to find someone who is a kindred spirit. As I have come to know myself better, I have been better able to express and identify what I truly want in a partner. That being said, dating has been less than successful.

    More often than not, dates have ended with blank stares from across the table when I open my mouth about my spiritual journey. I have never been able to fully express to another the very thing that defines my existence on earth, and have it received in kindness and understanding.

    So, when I met Rob for the first time, he literally took my breath away. I immediately detected his soul, his compassion, and passion for life. I recognized his connection with his feelings, and yet his ability to not take the whole process too seriously.

    In him, I saw myself. For the first time, I did not feel alone. I did not feel different. I felt like I was home. 

    So, back to the phone call: the reason I was so nervous was that, although I had this intense connection with Rob, we were at a crossroads. I could sense that we both wanted to address it, and at the same time neither of us wanted to address it.

    We were so early in our developing relationship, I felt like I needed to let him know how intensely I felt about him and how incredibly special I thought our connection was. And boy, was it scary!

    And in that moment of silence, I reflected back to helpful ideas I had used in learning to love and accept myself. Incredibly, they applied in this new relationship and how I needed to proceed in expressing my feelings.

     1. Stay present and stay you.

    During our conversation, I felt this urgent need to run and hide from the emotion building inside me. I felt like I wanted to crawl back inside my shell and disengage from the desire to open up completely to him.

    We were obviously attracted to one another, but the old voices of fear of rejection and fear of not being good enough crept back into my head. I realized that I had gone through that when I was learning how to love and accept myself.

    I had all of the preconceived notions of who I was or should be, and had to demystify all of that and realize that I am enough just the way I am. As is.

    I had to continuously get myself back to my center, to focus on the present moment and trust in the process of being my authentic self, knowing that the person who was supposed to cross my path, would.

    2. Live openly and honestly and speak from your heart.

    As I learned to accept myself, I found that speaking from my heart became easier. It’s not that we deliberately try to deceive others, but we often do a good job of deceiving ourselves.

    Trying to stop emotion and put up your defenses won’t do anyone any good. It may protect you in the short term, but you are the only one who will be harmed in the end. It will be you who misses out on true happiness and joy.

    Things may not always turn out the way you envisioned, but there is no defeat in living with pure intention.

    3. Go all in and accept that it may fail.

    Part of discovering myself again was learning as I went along. But unlike times before when I was harsh and self-defeating when I made a misstep, I was kind with myself. I gave myself some encouragement, the benefit of the doubt, and got back up and continued the best I could.

    When I finally trusted myself and accepted myself fully, I was able to mess up completely, yet be okay with it, because I knew I was doing my best and had set out with good intention.

    In the same manner, I had to realize that I am not perfect and neither is my partner. Showing compassion when there is a misstep is what will make the bonds stronger. That is how I needed to view Rob and our budding relationship.

    We had established similar core beliefs and journeys and now I had to trust in that as being the foundation for whatever was ahead of us.

    If that meant faltering and deciding we were not as compatible as we first believed, then so be it. I couldn’t be disappointed if I gave it my all and at least attempted something amazing.

    The phone call ended with me bumbling through my feelings pretty inefficiently. And wouldn’t you know it, he reciprocated and expressed relief about me bringing it up. He too felt like we had a connection and had great interest in pursuing it.

    If there is one thing I could leave you with it would be this: Don’t harden yourself to that pure emotion. Open up and welcome it in. Let it flow through you. Let the tears well up in your eyes and say the things your heart whispers. The person who is meant to hear those words will.

    Photo by Darren Johnson

  • Learn to Love and Accept Yourself, Wherever You Go

    Learn to Love and Accept Yourself, Wherever You Go

    Man and the sun

    “Wherever you go, there you are.” ~Confucius

    The sweat of my palms saturated our boarding tickets. Even as I stepped onto the plane, I still could not entirely believe we were doing it.

    My husband and I finished our master’s degrees and instead of immediately securing jobs, buying a house, and starting a family, we decided to travel.

    We thought escaping our lives was living on the wild side—rediscovering ourselves. Well, at least that’s what I thought.

    I lived in Spain during my undergraduate degree ten yeas ago and had ceaselessly fixated on the idea about returning ever since.

    I longed for the days of dipping churros in chocolate once more and sipping on the local morning brew, café con leche. I daydreamed of sharing pitcher after pitcher of chilled sangria with my husband and the neighboring couples dining to our left and our right.

    In the midst of my most vivid daydreams, I heard the cries, olé olé as the bullring radiated with history and pride.

    I had created such an idea of how I’d imaged our lives that I completely forgot the reality of the situation. 

    I convinced my husband to sell most of our items and put the remaining personal belongings in storage while we set off to Europe. I believed downsizing and emptying ourselves of these excessive items would really make things better.

    I was blind to the fact that Spain had changed so much in ten years—I had changed so much in ten years.

    We arrived tired but eager to explore the land of paradise I had talked about for a decade—but Spain had another plan for us. Spain wanted to remind me that I would not return to be the person I once was.

    Everything had changed, and what was most shocking, my views about Spain had changed.

    Because my eating habits grew as predictable as my daily gym routine, the bread and potatoes that I once loved certainly did not agree with my finicky body.

    My stomach, accustomed to mostly spinach, fresh fish (which we could not always afford), and organic green salads did not adjust to the Spanish cuisine as it had in the past.

    But this was supposed to be perfect, I thought. I’d overlooked the fact that my body’s rejection of what I was eating was a symbol of something deeper.

    No longer in my twenties, I realized I required much more sleep than I once needed. The long, amorous nights I once spent partying until the sun rose had been replaced with quiet nights of exhaustion and the stress of organizing plans to the next hostel.

    There were a number of other changes, such as living in hotels and hostels instead of with a host family. Little by little, each of these external factors pointed directly to the core of my very being.

    Escaping to Spain would not make me disappear. My husband and I still bickered over who had the better set of directions and where we should eat for dinner. Even throughout the many Kodak moments, I still found myself experiencing bouts of depression and anxiety.

    But this was not supposed to happen, I thought, still discarding the sobering reality of my dream trip. Spain was supposed to solve all my problems!

    We dashed over to Portugal and Ireland, and while these beautiful places are forever sealed inside our hearts, we still experienced many of the same challenges. It wasn’t until returning home and letting our lives literally settle back down that I started to gain a shocking perspective.

    The trip to Europe taught me to zero-in on myself. It was not the country in which I lived, not the town I visited, not the house in which I slept, or the room in which I sat, but all the way down into my own heart I began to understand there was nowhere else to run.

    I learned the blatant lesson that happiness begins and ends within me.

    The trip taught me that any time I am uncomfortable, I must ask what is not pleasing me in that moment. It shattered my sense of self and my dreams, which graciously reminded me that over-fantasizing is often an escape from current situations. 

    It taught me how excess imagination about the future is different from goal setting, which separates us from the beauty of what is available to us now. It taught me to find the joys in the present moment, to enjoy where I live, the community around me.

    When I yearn to reach out for something—buying an item of clothing, wanting to take a trip—I ask my heart why I think this item will please me. Am I grasping onto something deeper?

    While this is an extreme case of the inability to escape oneself, we all experience this in our lives in various ways. We think if we get a new job, our fear of failure will disappear only to discover it is heightened with our new role.

    We think if we get a new boyfriend or girlfriend it will turn out like the fairytale stories we hoped, only to discover our insecurities have followed us into the new relationship.

    We can point the finger to bosses, jobs, relationships, even cultures, but until we turn the finger back to ourselves, we will face a life of pain and constant struggle.

    In each situation, we must ask, what am I learning from this? What is this telling me about myself?

    We are such beautiful and complicated creatures. No technology in the world can tap into the mystery of the heart, of the soul, of our dreams.

    Wherever you go in your day—to the grocery store or to a new city, to a friend’s home or a different room of the house—be grateful that you will never escape yourself.

    Be grateful that you have this lifetime to learn to love and accept yourself.

    In a world so full of travel and movement, it is important we take a moment to pause and reflect on the sacredness of stillness and quietude within ourselves.

    It is my wish that we can all sit comfortably in a chair someday as we soften in body and in heart, full of gray hairs and wrinkles—that we may smile widely from each memory contributing to our wear and know we really have nowhere to go.

    Everything we need has been inside us from the start.

    Photo by Kerry

  • Confessions of a Love Junkie: Recovering from Love Addiction

    Confessions of a Love Junkie: Recovering from Love Addiction

    Heart in the Sand

    “The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others” ~Sonya Friedman

    Love is a funny thing. According to modern day psychologists and cognitive neuroscientists alike, the consensus is that it is just as easy to become addicted to falling in love as it is to get hooked on street drugs. But I think maybe my favorite drug is love. I guess they’d call it my drug of choice.

    The irony in that statement is beyond comprehension. Any one of us who has fallen in love, or struggled with addiction on some level, knows damn well that choice seems to have very little to do with it.

    About seven months ago I came to a breaking point. I made a decision to leave my spiritual community, to seek other ways to grow and develop. I was drained from giving so much of myself, as a result of not placing healthy boundaries with others and was suffering physically, mentally, and emotionally.

    I began to find it hard to breathe. I forgot what it was like to breathe deep into me.

    I didn’t realize I had become obsessed with loving everyone, but never allowed myself to receive love. When you are a love junkie, you think you know how to love well. You give your love to everyone and everything but yourself.

    It becomes an external solution to an internal problem. The saying goes that which we cling to, we end up losing. As a result I experienced a great deal of loss, because suffocation repels rather than invites.

    Addiction comes in many forms. You can smoke pain away. Drink the sadness away. Shop, gamble, or have sex until you think you have released your pain. It always returns because it never really left in the first place.

    So I tried love. It seemed like such a safe and noble way to escape the throes of my mind. And yet time after time I was left feeling empty. When you try to fill a bottomless cup from the outside, it never gets full.

    It was when I stopped loving myself at the expense of loving you that I lost sight of the truth. It was all the time I spent worrying about you when I could have been working on myself. I had started my process of healing, but I got lazy along the way.

    That’s the thing about addiction or escapist behavior of any form. It becomes comfortable. The slipping, sliding, and easing back into negative and unhealthy narratives. Those voices inside our heads which feed our deepest insecurities.

    It can sound like this:

    You aren’t good enough.

    You don’t deserve someone or something like this.

    You’re a bad person.

    You should have done this or could have done that.

    You aren’t worth the effort.

    You are going crazy.

    You aren’t trying hard enough.

    You aren’t doing enough.

    You aren’t giving enough.

    Do you see a pattern here?

    At the root of all junkies is the core belief that “we are not enough.”

    It was easy to slip back into these thought patterns because they had been a part of my personal narrative for so long. Thinking, acting, and being healthy was very uncomfortable for someone like me. Once I allowed this negative voice to become my internal dictator, my “love junkie” was awakened.

    Where I was misled was through this internal belief that things would be better if I only loved more—and this “love” was demonstrated by giving all of myself, not listening to my personal needs for space or voicing my desires, or speaking my truth in most of my closest and personal relationships, including my marriage.

    I felt that if I only loved more, then maybe I would be okay. Then I would feel whole.

    “Loving more,” really, was my codependency playing out, and it often took the form of:

    • Feeling guilty when I asked for things or wanted to make time for myself, out of fear of being seen as “selfish.”
    • Putting up with abusive behavior such as neglect, inconsideration, blaming, and shaming from friends, family, or lovers.
    • Feeling that if I distanced myself from these individuals or created boundaries within my relationships, it meant that I was “abandoning” them. As an individual who has experienced childhood abandonment and neglect, this meant I would be disloyal and undeserving.

    Until I was able to adopt certain practices and healthier boundaries, I could not respect myself. When I began building up that self-respect and deconstructing the self-denial I had become clouded in, I could then demonstrate authenticity in all areas of my life.

    As I began to understand myself better and treat myself with compassion and kindness I began to experience self-love rather than conceptualize it mentally.

    Real intimacy and connection begins internally. If we seek our happiness, acceptance, and contentment outside ourselves, we will never be satisfied. The journey starts with the first step of moving toward ourselves.

    I took stock of all the energy I was expending on people around me and realized my intention to love was actually blocked by my ego’s need to seek validation. In the quiet and the stillness I closed my eyes and began on the journey to find the greatest gift of all—myself.

    Today I experience self-love as a process that begins with a shift from recognizing when I am heart-centered as opposed to being centered in the mind. It is a process where one actualizes acceptance and release from the ego.

    When I returned to my spiritual community, it was from a place of great humility and personal grace. I was able to see it with a new pair of glasses. I returned with nothing to prove, only a deep desire to trust in a new way of loving myself and opening up to those capable of returning that love.

    Love is not an obsession. Love is not a possession or the pursuit of possessing any one person or people. True love fuels a sense of freedom and joy. It is a process of intimate liberation.

    Photo by GettysGirl4260

  • Find Yourself Before You Find Love

    Find Yourself Before You Find Love

    “Waking up to who you are requires letting go of who you imagine yourself to be.” ~Alan Watts

    After a few years of living through the betrayal and anger of my divorce, my friends decided it was time for me to start dating again.

    They took me out to the bars, dressed me up, bought me drinks, and showed all the men how cute I was.

    I didn’t feel cute. I felt like a fraud.

    The bar scene was not for me. I felt like a piece of meat wrapped in cellophane on the shelf waiting for a man to decide which one he’d like to eat.

    I dressed up in my newly skinny body and looked the part of the fun loving girl, but inside all I felt was desperation.

    I put on makeup so men would think I was pretty.

    I exercised so my body would look good for others to gaze at.

    I smiled and giggled so men would think I was fun and funny.

    I didn’t feel fun, funny, pretty, or like I wanted to be looked at. I felt scared.

    I kept grasping at a portrait of who I wanted everyone to think I was. I so wanted to be this picture perfect representation that I thought men wanted. I wanted a man to like me so I could feel loved and validated.

    I finally realized my imaginary self-portrait was who others wanted, not who I wanted to be now. I was not being true to my new self.

    So I trashed the portrait, went home, and got my act together.

    I wanted to find love again but not like this. Not by picking up someone in a bar who was looking for love in all the wrong places, just like I was doing. I needed to learn to love myself, because no one else could do it for me.

    I wanted to find love by knowing who I was. Then I could find someone who complemented me. So I stopped going out and started to learn who I was, what I wanted in life, and what I deserved in a man.

    What I did learn from speaking to men in bars is that real men want real women. I decided to learn how to be real. Learning how to be real would require some investigative research on my part. I had lost myself in my marriage. It was time to find me.

    I decided to step out of my proverbial box. I had to try new things and figure out what activities I liked, and which ones I needed to stay away from.

    I traveled to developing countries. I had my palm read and visited a mind reader. I went kayaking, took up road biking, hiked on volcanoes, rode zip lines through the rain forest, joined book clubs, learned to meditate, I found out what tai chi was.

    I started to visit international restaurants. I went to museums and hung out in coffee shops. I got my yoga teacher certification and started to teach. I tried things I had always wanted to do but never could while I was married.

    I had fun. I learned that I favored Thai food over Italian food. I learned that I can ride thirty-five miles on a bike and love it. I learned things about me I never knew.

    I stopped wearing most of the makeup I had worn thinking it made me look good so men would like me. Instead, I decided to look good for myself.

    I stared at myself in the mirror and told myself over and over that I am beautiful, even though I didn’t believe it. The more I told myself I was beautiful, the more I began to feel good about myself. 

    I wanted my beauty to be defined by my self-confidence, which began to return when I started to truly believe in what I began to represent.

    I started to dress the way I wanted to felt, not the way I wanted to be looked at. I wanted free flowing clothes that I could move in. I wanted to be able to feel my body, not the clothes pinching me.

    I started to exercise because it made me feel good, not so I would look good. I accomplished both by doing what I wanted for me, not for them. I found exercise that I loved to do. I increased my yoga practice and kept on walking. I took up rowing and increased my biking.

    I stopped going to bars to meet men. Instead, I went to the occasional bar to hang out with friends and to be social.

    I stopped looking at men as the answer to my problems and started looking at myself to solve them.

    I realized I needed to know what my interests were if I wanted to attract a man who shared them.

    When I learned what I liked, I became happier than I had ever been before. I learned to be true to myself, not someone else.

    I realized that I had been incomplete without the self-knowledge required to define my own boundaries, my likes, and my dislikes. Without knowing what my boundaries were, I could never attract a person into my life that could live within them. I had never known how to define and stand up for my own beliefs.

    When I felt confident with my new self, I joined a dating site. I was far more aware of the kind of person I wanted to attract because I knew who I was.

    Writing my profile specifically for what I wanted and how I wanted a man to treat me was far better than telling someone to take me on a romantic date, when I couldn’t define what I thought a romantic date was.

    So get on with it. What are you waiting for? Get out there and experience life. Find out who and what you are. Live life by yourself. Be happy by yourself. It’s your life; make it what you want. Don’t look for someone else to do it for you, because they can’t. Only you can know who you really are.

  • Looking for Security: We Can Be Our Own Safe Places

    Looking for Security: We Can Be Our Own Safe Places

    Sitting on the Edge

    “All the wonders you seek are within yourself.” ~Sir Thomas Browne

    I have always been the independent type. I started buying my own clothes when I was 12 with money I made from babysitting gigs. I got my first “real” job the summer I was 16. I went to live with my mother’s cousins (whom I’d only met a few times) in Boston and worked in a bakery. That was a great summer. I got to explore Boston and learned how to ride the subway.

    In college I spent my summers having grand adventures and saving up my money for school. I went to the Jersey Shore, Alaska, and Buzzard’s Bay, worked waitressing jobs and met lots of interesting people.

    My parents were very supportive and loving when I was young. It wasn’t that I had to live away from home. I just had the adventure bug and a deep seated feeling that I needed to be independent and make my own money and way in the world.

    Underneath all that exploring was a rock solid knowledge that my mother was always there for me. I knew if I needed her she would be there.

    She told me repeatedly I was always welcome to come home. I may not have taken her up on her offer, but in my heart I knew that my mom was my safe place; the place I called home.

    When I got married, my husband was in the Navy and we moved a lot. I lived for three years in Japan. I had children, and we’d visit my mom and she’d visit us. Still, I knew if I needed her she was there.

    She was still my rock solid home because I hadn’t established a true home base with my own little family. We lived far away from each other but I knew she was always within reach.

    I knew if my husband went to sea I could go to my mom’s. If our relationship didn’t work out my mom would take me and the kids in. I was able to be independent and explore the world because I knew where my home base would always be.

    My mom died in 2011 and suddenly the place I called home didn’t exist anymore. I had no base, no safe place, and no rock solid security. I was flying over an ocean with no land in sight.

    I have struggled to find balance. My adventurous spirit was founded on an inner security which stemmed from my close bond with my mother. Without her there as a backup, how could I feel secure? What if my husband left me? Where would I go? What if I lost my job and my home? Where would I go?

    She was always where I would go and the first person I would call or turn to for help.

    Many adventurers enjoy not being tied down. They do not want a home base so they can just pick up and go wherever and whenever they want.

    I had the best of both worlds because my home was with a person so I could wander and explore and come back to her whenever I wanted. I could even touch base via phone and feel grounded and secure.

    We all long for security in some form or another. Maybe we save up money in our savings accounts, or maybe we marry someone who makes us feel safe. As humans we long for connections, for a feeling of belonging, or that complete knowing that we are accepted and surrounded by love.

    I, like many others, thought that my security came from someone else. What I couldn’t understand was that I already had everything I needed to be safe and secure inside. We all do.

    I haven’t figured it all out yet. I still grieve for my mother and feel lost at sea at times. While learning to live with the instability, I have come to see that my mother was my safety net but I have been my own home base all along.

    Having her encouragement gave me the courage to go out on my own, but I was the one actually going and I can ground myself and be my own place of comfort.

    It is like when my sister and I were young. I was ten and she was fourteen. She was trying to learn how to do an aerial (no handed) cartwheel in her gymnastics class.

    She would have me come out to the front yard and “spot” her. I would stand sideways with my arms out, ready to catch her if she fell. I was only ten with scrawny little arms and no clue how to catch her.

    She never fell. She did not really need me. The fact that I was there made her feel safe and gave her the courage to fling herself into the air. She could do it all on her own. She did not need my support. She just liked knowing I was there.

    I have been on my own for a long time. I can take care of myself. I am my own home base. I did not need my mom. I just liked having her there.

    There is a saying, “no man is an island,” meaning that we all need others. We cannot stand all alone.

    While it is true that we are social beings and we need others to survive, we all are own safe places. We do not need to depend on others. We can stand on our own two feet and establish our own home bases. We can make it alone; we just like having loved ones with us.

    Photo by Jaine

  • Becoming More Authentic: Accept Yourself and Forget Approval

    Becoming More Authentic: Accept Yourself and Forget Approval

    “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” ~E.E. Cummings

    For most of my life, I was a chameleon. I stayed under the radar, hoping I’d blend in and not draw attention to myself. I was full of self-doubt, so I molded my personality and beliefs based on my company. I traded my authentic self for the security of being liked by my family and friends because of my fear of being judged.

    By suppressing my opinions, I was perceived as easygoing, but at what cost? I disrespected myself by allowing others to influence major decisions in my life. I didn’t trust myself to make choices for myself.

    I withheld what I needed from others and was unable to communicate my emotions. My frustration of not being heard turned into anger whenever I did share my feelings with my family and significant other. In return I experienced anxiety, guilt, shame, anger, and self-loathing. That was a huge price to pay so others would accept and like me.

    I become addicted to my story of the “broken girl” who compromised her integrity because her voice and emotions were neglected by her parents. I used my victim story to serve as an excuse for my bad behavior.

    If I was “perceived” as a victim, I didn’t have to be held accountable for my bad choices.

    I learned how to use others to get the love and attention I didn’t give myself. I defined my self-worth by comparing myself to others. I tried to be perceived as “perfect,” so I created unattainable standards that left me disconnected.

    During my mid twenties I became tired of worrying about being inconsistent and acting differently around different people. I became disconnected to others and wasn’t able to cultivate meaningful relationships.

    It requires real vulnerability to be authentic. What if I show my true colors and people don’t like the real me? Honestly, even as I write this article and think about people reading about my flaws it scares the bejesus out of me.

    By twenty-seven, my life looked great from the outside, but on the inside I was on the verge of a breakdown. I was ready to create a more meaningful and fulfilling life.

    I realized the world needs us to show up and share our gifts.

    There is more risk hiding our gifts from the world than expressing them. Our unexpressed ideas, dreams, and gifts don’t go away. They destroy our worthiness and confidence.

    There is no shortcut to authenticity. It requires commitment and real inner work. I dove deeply into my emotional mess and started feeling the pain I had repressed. I made the daily commitment to take the following steps to be more authentic:

    Step 1: Forgive and love yourself.

    I had to forgive myself for my past mistakes. My ego enjoyed replaying my bad choices and punishing me by making me feel unworthy of love. By cultivating kindness towards myself, I honored and accepted the past, learned my lessons, and started loving myself.

    What you can do: Consider how you can learn from your past so you can do better going forward. Always be kind to yourself because you can only ever do your best. Be content with that.

    Step 2: Be willing to make a change and own your mistakes.

    I found the willingness to embrace my imperfections and share them with others. I started speaking and writing about my challenges through my vlogs on my website. I had to acknowledge some unpleasant truths about myself. The biggest one was admitting I enjoyed my “victim” story. I felt it served me by getting me sympathy and attention from others. By humbly owning my mistakes, I repaired my self-worth and confidence.

    What you can do: Commit to making a change. Get clear and admit why you hold on to your pain. Why do you think it serves you?

    Step 3: Create a daily practice.

    I created a daily practice of living authentically. I took care of my mind, body, and spirit and nurtured a loving relationship with myself. I looked to those who already lived authentically and noticed a pattern of traits they master. Below, I’ve listed the most common attributes all authentic people share.

    What you can do: If you feel disconnected or unable to speak your truth, identify which traits you need to cultivate in your life and create an intention to become authentic. Do the necessary inner work to reconnect to your truth and your authenticity will radiate through you.

    The traits I’ve identified as common to authentic people:

    Mindfulness.

    Authentic people accept their life experiences and feel the emotions that arise. They don’t repress their feelings and let them fester up. Anxiety and guilt arise from not being present. If we doubt our ability to handle challenges in the future, we create anxiety. Guilt results from feeling bad about past mistakes or people we have hurt. Authentic people experience life challenges from a place of love, forgiveness, and gratitude.

    Self-respect.

    Authentic people are impeccable when they speak to themselves, about themselves and others. They are mindful of the energy behind words and believe they are worthy of love and peace of mind. They have a healthy approach to life by knowing there will always be naysayers, and their opinions don’t matter.

    Courage.

    Authentic people create their own rules based on the standards that resonate with them. They have the courage to live their lives based on what they believe is right. This type of empowerment gives them the inner strength to withstand temptation and build self-confidence. When you have the courage to share your shame and guilt, they no longer have power over you.

    Boldness.

    Authentic people don’t allow their fears to prevent them being themselves. If you are focused on being true to yourself in every moment, you are less concerned about the potential for rejection from others. Nothing is more liberating than being yourself as fully as you know how.

    Being authentic is a daily practice. It is a moment by moment choice of embracing your truth and being fearless enough to share it with the world. When you have nothing to hide and you can freely be yourself with everyone, there is a profound peace and confidence you will exude to the world.

  • Why Empathy Can Sometimes Help More Than Advice

    Why Empathy Can Sometimes Help More Than Advice

    Hug

    “I have just three things to teach simplicity patience compassion these three are your greatest treasures.” ~Lao Tzu

    I have two teenagers. Anyone with children knows these years can bring their challenges. One minute they behave like a four year old and the next they are as mature as an adult. These fluctuations can pose difficult times.

    One day, after a particularly emotional and tough interaction with my son, I called my mother for advice. She had by all accounts raised three successful sons.

    After a long and detailed discussion of what had happened, she said, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. It’s so hard.”

    That was it, not a single word of advice—just some empathy. I pictured her on her old fashioned phone with the rotary dial and the wires just making a simple statement. I was frustrated. I wanted advice; I wanted some magical activity or action plan that I could use to make it better.

    In my opinion this interaction with my mom was useless.

    Feeling frustrated, I called a very dear friend who has two teenage children and whose mother is a PHD psychiatrist. With children the same age, we had been sharing child-rearing stories for many years.

    I figured with that level of education his mother must have some advice. I gave him a short synopsis of the story and asked if he thought his mother could provide some any advice. “Oh yeah…” he responded, in a way that I knew there was a story to follow.

    He told me that a couple of weeks earlier he had been working on a project in London that required working sixteen hour days. Exhausted from both the hard work and plane ride home, he landed in the US after a long flight home.

    When he landed he turned on his phone and saw an email from his mother. Delighted to hear from her, since he had not corresponded with in a while, he read the email immediately.

    The email was very a long description of her concern for him. While the email was articulate and detailed, it was full of detailed changes of he “should” make for both his children and his family.

    He interpreted the message from his mom as criticism that he was not doing what he should, and his own mother was telling him he needed to change. Before deleting the email he responded to his mother, “Please don’t send any more emails like this.” 

    Even as he retold the story I could hear how much the email had hurt his feelings.

    My dear friend is thoughtful, articulate, kind, hardworking, good looking, and brilliant. My own wife often says that she wishes I were more like him. In short, he’s a great dad and a wonderful husband.

    Advice Is Not Always What We Need

    After hearing this story, I realized there wasn’t anything my mother could say that was going to help me in my situation with my son. Advice from her about what I “should” do differently was going to feel like criticism or be impossible to act on.

    I had created my own problems and could create my own solutions like most of us can. Often times we simply lack the confidence or the self-respect to make the necessary changes.

    Even though I did not know it at the time my mother’s simple empathy and acknowledgement of the difficult situation was the thing I needed.

    I wanted a magical solution, but it didn’t exist. Her empathy and acknowledgement of the challenge was all I needed. Like most advice, we seldom know we need it when we receive it. If it’s truly useful we absorb it and use it without thinking about it.

    Today when I have problems with my teenagers, I hear her voice telling me, “Oh honey. It’s so hard.” Sometimes it is, and that’s okay.

    How to Remember

    Remember, when someone calls for personal advice the most valuable thing we can do is acknowledge the situation without judgment and remind them that we care deeply. My mother does it with a Bostonian’s paucity of words. Most of us need to say more.

    In an effort to remind myself of this lesson, I have created a simple picture of the old fashion telephone my mother used until very recently. I post the picture in my workspace where I receive the majority of my calls.

    It’s there to remind me that most people do not want the instructions on “what to” or “how to” fix their problems, but rather to be reminded we care, are willing to listen and understand that sometimes life’s problems are not easy to solve.

    Photo by Anant Rohankar