Tiny Buddha

Category: Blog

  • Why We Need to Learn to Let Go and Adapt If We Want to Be Happy

    Why We Need to Learn to Let Go and Adapt If We Want to Be Happy

    Charles Darwin is believed to have said that in nature, it’s not the strongest or most intelligent that survives but those who are most adaptable to change.

    No matter what kind of life we live, we all need to learn to adapt, because everything changes. Good and bad come and go in everybody’s life. It’s one of the reasons resilience is so critical.

    We plan our lives expecting good to come our way, to get what we want, and for things to work out how we planned. At the same time we’re chasing the good, we try to avoid the bad.

    One of the biggest sources of our unhappiness and discontent is not being able to adapt to change; instead, we cling to things we’ve lost or get upset because things don’t unfold as we want them to.  

    What we overlook is that this is a fundamental law of life, the ups and downs, ebbs and flows. Things come and go, nothing stays the same, and we can’t control most of the things we’d like to. Accepting this and learning to adapt and go with the flow brings us one step closer to happiness.

    I’ve just come back from a meditation retreat. It sounds relaxing, and it was, but it was also difficult in many ways.

    I had to adapt to a new routine, which meant a 5:30am alarm, sitting for long periods of meditation, and periods of complete silence and solitude.

    And there were lots of other changes: Not having my morning cup of tea or evening chocolate—or any caffeine or dairy—and adjusting to a vegan diet. Being without WiFi and my cell phone, and braving the sub-zero temperatures up in the mountains of NZ in winter. Having to do karma yoga work—things like cleaning toilets and stacking wood. Not to mention the kind of emotions, thoughts, and feelings we’re confronted with when we start to disconnect from the world and spend time with ourselves.

    I was so pleased to be returning home, but then instantly thrown into the chaos of a busy airport with all flights grounded due to fog. I then realized that I would not be going home, and to attempt that tomorrow meant a bus ride to the next airport and finding some overnight accommodation to wait it out, with the hope that the weather would be fit for flying in the morning.

    Despite my Zen-like state post-meditation, I was frustrated, upset, and I just wanted to get home to see my partner, sleep in my own bed, and not feel so helpless.

    I had my plan, my expected outcome, and for reasons beyond everyone’s control, this wasn’t possible. I wasn’t going to get what I wanted.

    Now, a week later, I find myself having to learn the skill of adaptability once again.

    Many years ago I played soccer. I wasn’t bad, either. I loved it. It was my passion. As a kid, I’d play all day on my own in the garden, and once I found a team I’d never miss a match. However, my career was cut short in my early twenties after a ruptured cruciate ligament that was surgically repaired, re-ruptured.

    I had to give up on my passion and for many years didn’t play soccer. It was as a result of this devastation that I found yoga—my new passion and lifesaver for the past seven years, something I do every day.

    I’ve just had a further operation on this ailing knee, and while I’d adapted over the years from the injury, I found myself once again having to adapt to changes: Not being able to walk, being housebound, using crutches and the difficulties this brings. Finding a way of sleeping comfortably and seeing through the fog the painkillers seemed to create. Not being able to do my morning yoga routine and struggling to meditate because I couldn’t adopt my usual cross-legged ‘proper’ meditation position.

    Sometimes what is, is good enough. Acceptance is key to helping us adapt. 

    If I can breathe, I can meditate, and I’ve enjoyed some of my lying down meditations (the ones where I’ve managed to stay awake!).

    And now, as I reduce the meds and ease off the crutches, I can see positive change occurring. I can do a few standing yoga asanas and can take short walks with support.

    The devastation of leaving my beloved sport morphed into another form of exercise I fell in love with that I may never have otherwise discovered. And my recent operation led me to new ways of enjoying this passion.

    These recent lessons caused me to reflect on how life has changed for me over the last year or so and how I’ve been adapting along the way (sometimes kicking and screaming).

    I’ve gone from a nomad traveling the world to settling down in a city I’d said I’d never live in due to the wind and the earthquakes. I’ve experienced some of the worst winds and biggest earthquakes of my life since being here and learned to love it all the same.

    I’ve recognized the positives and come to love the bits that make this city (Wellington, NZ) great: the small town feel, the laid back lifestyle, the friendly residents, the ocean, the beach suburbs and beautiful scenery, the wonderful array of cafes and restaurants, not to mention the abundance of yoga, meditation, and wellness related activities.

    I’ve gone from being single and happy to living with someone else and having to think about someone else, taking into account more needs than just my own.

    I’ve had to learn to love again, take risks, and face fears while navigating a long-term relationship and our different wants and needs. I’ve had to learn to share a home and build a nest, and think about the future in ways I’d never have thought I could, feeling very blessed if also a little apprehensive and scared at the same time.

    Very often those in long-term relationships may envy the free, single, fun life of others, while at the same time those who are single are chasing the dream of finding their soul mate and settling down like the married couples who envy them.

    I’ve learned that everything has its pros and cons, each cloud has a silver lining, and each silver lining has a cloud. It’s what we choose to focus on that impacts our happiness.  

    We could always be chasing the next thing, looking for greener grass. But if we do this, the grass will always be greener even when we get there. And if we live like this, we miss out on all the good stuff we already have, all the silver linings that exist in the now, in our current situation.

    New relationships generally start well because it’s new and we’re in love. But what about when the novelty wears off, years down the track when we’re living together and bringing up kids?

    We realize that our new love is, in fact, human. We get tired, we get irritated, we find they do actually leave clothes on the floor and leave the lid off the toothpaste.

    In the same way our new, latest model dream car becomes not so new, or the dream job turns out to be a bit tougher than we thought.

    Everything has good and bad, so stop expecting perfection and clinging onto an unrealistic ideal. This results in us always be disappointed.

    Life changes as the seasons do. What we needed then may not be what we need now, and either way, we might not have control of what exactly is unfolding. Learn to adapt with these changes, not fight against them. Trying to keep everything the same is like trying to tell the leaves not to fall from the trees in autumn.

    Whether the weather doesn’t hold during a party we’ve planned or a long-term relationship ends, things don’t always go to plan. Things change and we don’t always get to hold on to good stuff forever.

    Embracing this is key to happiness, as is living in the present and enjoying each moment as it is.  Whatever is happening now won’t last, which is great news if we’re going through a tough time but not so great if things are going well and we’ve just got the promotion we wanted or met our soul mate.

    Life is not about what happens to us but how we react to it, and some of our biggest disappointments can lead to better things in life, bringing us new beginnings, if we learn to adapt and embrace change.  

    Expect life not to go to plan and then you won’t be so disappointed. Accept what is, look for the silver lining, and adapt. Keep looking for the good in every moment and learn from the tough ones.

    This is how we not only survive but thrive: by embracing each moment for what it is and choosing to make the best of it.

  • How To Be Open-Minded When Others See the World Differently

    How To Be Open-Minded When Others See the World Differently

    “Most disagreements are caused by different perceptions that created different realities.” ~Unknown

    When I was thirteen, I experienced a monumental change in my young life.

    It wasn’t a big move, no one close to me died, and although puberty was rocking my world in the worst way, it was something else altogether that shook me to the core:

    The movie Titanic came out.

    I know, I know, it’s just a movie, and I was just another swooning teenager wishing that I was the one Jack never wanted to let go of, but it hit me hard. Truth, love, the pain of loss: a woman following her heart and risking it all for true love. I relished every second of its three hours and fifteen minute run time.

    So much that I saw it multiple times over winter break at school—usually with my equally enamored mom, sometimes with my best friend, always with a lump in my throat. I held back tears as I saw Jack’s face disappearing into the icy waters, always wondering why Rose couldn’t make room for him on the raft, each time imagining myself in the situation: falling in love, making tough choices, persevering through loss.

    (Spoiler alert: the ship sinks.)

    Returning to school a few weeks later, I knew I’d been changed. Titanic was helping me to sort out the girl I was from the woman I was becoming, and I figured it was having an equal effect on those around me. I was pleasantly surprised when I walked into class on the first day back at school and read an obviously related quote on the white board:

    “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” ~Tennyson

    I smiled inside, realizing that my eighth grade teacher must have seen Titanic too, feeling a kindred recognition of just how important this epic film was. After all, it was a sweeping success across the country, breaking records and hearts and box office sales.

    As I settled into my seat and he began to lecture, I prepared to listen to what his thoughts were about the film: maybe he had a historical critique, or an interpretation of the film’s depiction of the human condition?

    Oh, how wrong I was.

    It turns out that the local football team had gone to the super bowl during this same break, and while I was losing it over Jack and Rose, many others were losing it over this team’s big loss.

    As my teacher began to lecture and joke with classmates about “the value of making it to the super bowl at all” I hung my head in frustration and confusion. There was a life-changing movie in theatres, cataloguing one of the worst catastrophes in history. Why didn’t anyone care about this? Isn’t this quote on the board far more applicable to a love story than to a football team?

    Doesn’t everyone feel the way that I do??

    In retrospect, my Titanic example is funny (and somewhat ridiculous). Of course not everyone felt the same soul shaking connection to a movie, and of course not everyone had the newly awakened hormones of a teenage girl. (Say Leeeeoooo with some longing in a whispery voice, and you’ve got my thirteen-year-old daydreams pegged pretty well.)

    When we’re that young it’s easy to make major mistakes in our perception of others, but within this comical event are the seeds of an issue that would continue to show up, both in my life and others.

    There’s Imperfection in Perception

    My misinterpretation of a teacher’s quote on the board is an early mistake in “encoding” and “decoding.” Those two words are just fancy talk for the complicated interaction that is communication, and how they’re related to something called the “confirmation bias.”

    See, when I read those words on the white board, they confirmed something that I (unconsciously) assumed to be true: everyone cared about this thing that I did (ahem, Titanic, cough) and of course this quote about love must relate to it. The words on the board spoke to me in a way that I thought was universal: my thirteen-year-old brain knew exactly what they meant.

    When words are spoken, however (or written on a white board in eighth grade), the intention of the communicator can get lost in the understanding. When I say something to you, I’m “encoding” information that I want to communicate; I’m trying to get you to understand me.

    The trouble comes when we forget that each person understands (or “decodes”) information differently—we hear what we know, we hear what we want, and we hear what makes sense based on our life thus far.

    See, this variability in perception happens because each of us views the world through a slightly different lens. What the word “love” means to me could be different than what it means to you; for example, what has the word “love” meant in the past? Has it been controlling or unconditional, loaded with expectations or adoration?

    The actual words we use are simply a jumping off place, and then they’re strung together in beads of sentences that can appear a different color to each person listening. The “colors” (or meaning) we assign to words vary because all of us do; and because our minds are expert categorizers, we often understand things in a way that already makes sense with our existent worldview.

    It’s for this reason that two people can read the same news article and come away with different interpretations, or feel entirely different about the events going on in the world: We tend to pay attention to information that confirms what we already believe to be true, and disregard the rest of what we see. It’s not due to callousness either; it’s the way that we’re wired.

    Our brains are really good at simplifying and organizing. In order to cognitively make sense of a complicated and busy world, we have to become expert categorizers. This is adaptive, and it helps our overworked brains make sense of things.

    The hiccups only come when we forget that the way we’ve organized the world is different than the way that others have; when we assume that each person interprets the world and its events the way that we do.

    So, what do we do? If everyone could mean something different when they say “I love you” or “let’s go get some ice cream” then how on earth are we ever supposed to understand each other? Is all social coherence lost?

    The answer is simple, but not easy: We must keep an open (and present) mind.

    Open-mindedness

    Keeping an open mind is realizing that we all perceive the world that we live in differently. It’s remembering that when we read (or listen) we are “decoding” at the same time—trying to understand and make sense of information, all through our unique and limited worldview.

    It’s being patient when we feel misunderstood, and allowing for the possibility that we’re also misunderstanding others.

    Open-mindedness is being forgiving of people who hold different opinions and reminding ourselves that we’ve really only ever been one person; we don’t necessarily know what the world is like for others.

    Being open-minded is another form of mindfulness, really. It’s pausing before responding, and asking ourselves: What do I already believe to be true about this person, this event, this political party? What in my past is causing me to feel agitated, or generous, or suspicious? What does the person speaking to me actually mean?

    Even if we don’t always have the answers, simply allowing the questions to percolate our perception can open us up to the world around us.

    Not having answers also gives us the chance to ask questions; if we don’t know what someone means by a statement, we can ask them to clarify. If that’s not an option (because who likes to feed trolls on the internet, right?) then can we at least hold space for a worldview that varies from ours?

    Even if we don’t agree with it, even if it makes our blood boil, can we pause while we try to understand it? Slow down our categorizing minds and realize that the world looks different from varying angles?

    It’s difficult to pause when we’re agitated, but it’s definitely possible. Practicing mindfulness in communication (whether it’s with a loved one or a stranger on the internet) can give us space to ask these questions, extend our understanding, and allow for differences.

    Listening to an idea with an open mind is letting go of all the reasons it’s wrong, or right, and allowing the person (or words) to be what they are. It’s digesting things with the knowledge that we’re bringing our own “stuff” to the table; keeping in mind that our history colors each and every interaction we have.

    It’s a complicated world that we navigate, and there are benefits to the assumptions we jump to minute by minute. But in order to sift through assumptions we’ve first got to be aware of them, and that involves being vigilant of our monkey minds as often as possible. It involves pausing, taking a breath, and asking ourselves: Is this person talking about Titanic, or football?

  • How Embracing My Sexuality Helped Cure My Need to People Please

    How Embracing My Sexuality Helped Cure My Need to People Please

    “If you are busy pleasing everyone, you are not being true to yourself.” ~Jocelyn Murray

    The love I felt for her wasn’t like the romantic love our culture idealizes in books or movies. There was no moment where I knew that she was the one for me, and I didn’t feel lots of butterflies when our paths crossed.

    Instead, the love I felt for her was deep and sustaining. While she is one of the most kind, gentle, and loyal people I had ever met, the way she loved me was the most remarkable thing to me. I could be completely vulnerable with her and feel no shame. I felt supported and embraced. Through her love, I felt restored, and it deeply affected my sense of love and belonging.

    I was extremely surprised when I realized that I had romantic feelings for this woman. What fueled this surprise was the fact that I had always identified as being straight. While my mother is very accepting, the South—where I grew up—is not always the most supportive place for homosexuality. I felt shame from my religion, some friends and family, and myself.

    Unfortunately, I soon became aware that there was deep homophobia hidden within me. While most people would always describe me as accepting and liberal, there was a huge part of me that felt absolute shame for liking a female.

    What would all my conservative, religious family and friends think of me? Would they love me anymore? Was I going to hell? These were just some of the questions that ran through my mind.

    I came to a point where I realized that no matter what people thought, if the opportunity ever arose for us to be romantically together, I would seize it. I wouldn’t be ashamed due to her gender; in fact, I would love to shout it from the rooftops (or write about on Tiny Buddha), because even just the act of loving someone so incredibly beautiful has brought me tremendous joy and healing.

    Here are a few lessons I’ve learned through embracing this part of myself about the need to please and letting go of seeking approval.

    1. “You cannot live a brave life without disappointing someone.”

    I was watching an interview with Oprah and Brené Brown recently. Oprah said the exact statement written above. This hit me right in the heart. Surely this couldn’t be true. Do I really have to sometimes disappoint people to be brave? Like many humans, I have this need for people to constantly approve of me.

    I remember when I told one of my best friends about how I felt about this woman. I knew she would not agree with me being confused about my sexuality, and I was so unbelievably terrified. I was afraid I was going to lose one of the people I loved most in world.

    When I finally got the words out, she responded in a very kind way. Though she did make it known that this was not a part that she agreed with, she promised to love and support me through my journey. This brings me to my next lesson.

    2. Some people will not be okay with your decisions. Challenge yourself to be able to accept their position as well as your own.

    I was very aware that I had family and friends who were not going to approve of this part of me, but I was curious if I could still maintain the relationships.

    I realized that if I was not seeking approval, my friendships could continue to grow. I came to the realization that, while it was nice if everyone supported my decision, I really didn’t need every single person to agree with me. As long as they still chose to respect me and love me, their opinion on my choices were their business.

    That being said, I know it’s very difficult when close friends and family don’t agree with something fundamental to your sense of self, especially when it does not seem like they are going to change their opinion.

    I’m still in a process of learning how to handle this in a healthy way. I do know that when I am unfailingly kind and loving toward myself, it helps lessen the weight of other people’s opinions, because how I view myself comes first.

    3. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries

    This is one of the hardest things for people who seek approval to implement. I have found with this experience, I have to set boundaries for what behaviors I will tolerate concerning other’s reactions. This is applicable to all areas of life. It’s important to set boundaries as to what is okay and not okay in interacting with others.

    I will tolerate questions. I will tolerate confusion. I will tolerate respectful disagreement.

    I will not tolerate blatant rudeness. I will not tolerate ignorance. These are my boundaries. If people cross these boundaries, I will politely inform them that they have overstepped a line and I will not be participating in a discussion with them concerning this topic anymore.

    4. I want to choose to be vulnerable every day no matter how hard it feels.

    There are times in my life that I have regretted not being 100% authentic. But not once when I look back, have I ever regretted being vulnerable.

    Sometimes it doesn’t feel the greatest afterward. I call that a “vulnerability hangover.” It feels like this giant pit in my stomach and I feel tired, but eventually it goes away. While they usually seem scary, the best decisions in my life have usually also been the most vulnerable ones.

    I don’t believe in defining my success on external factors such as getting a job, getting married, and traveling the world. Instead, I aim every day to be more vulnerable and braver than the last. There will be days I will fail and hide behind fear, and that’s okay, because I am imperfect and filled with flaws. On the days that I do choose to be honest and open, I feel like my soul is on fire.

     5. Be willing to refine who you are.

    When I first wrote down this lesson it read, “Be willing to redefine who you are.” But, I realized that I don’t think we can, or even need to, “redefine” who we are. Instead, I believe we should refine the already beautifully imperfect person we have become.

    When I realized that I liked this woman, it made me examine myself differently. I had always seen this picture of me being with a man. All of the sudden that story seemed very fuzzy now. It actually brought a bit at sadness at first and I let it be. This picture of my relationship for the future came shattering down, and I realized that I didn’t want to pick up the broken pieces. Instead, I want to create a new picture. Except this time, I want to refine it day by day and let it be ever-changing.

    6. Do what’s best for you first and everyone will benefit.

    I’ve learned that self-love is like a waterfall. When I am doing what is best for me and feels right in my truth, it trickles down to the people in my life.

    I have found that when I am living authentically and loving myself, my actions toward others are more loving and honest. While I still may not be or act exactly how someone wants me to, if my intention is loving, that’s all that matters. When you act in an authentic way, everybody wins.

    I don’t know what the future holds for me—much less my love life—but I am confident that whatever it holds will be beautiful, because it will be honest, vulnerable, and authentic. More importantly, it will be beautiful, because my decision won’t be based on someone’s opinion of me. It will be my truth and my story.

  • How to Make Anxiety A Lot Less Painful

    How to Make Anxiety A Lot Less Painful

    “You are not a mess. You are a feeling person in a messy world.” ~Glennon Doyle Melton

    Anxiety can be hardwired and genetic. It can be passed down from generation to generation. It can be a result of trauma and high-stress scenarios, including divorce, moving, and death. These things are out of our control, and can be really challenging to work through.

    But, anxiety can also come as a result of certain behaviors, lifestyle choices, and beliefs that you have about yourself and the world. And that, my friend, is always within your control.

    I want to challenge the way you’re thinking about anxiety. Take a moment to ask yourself the following questions:

    What thoughts, beliefs, and behaviors are leading to my anxiety? How can I address these behaviors and change the beliefs, thoughts, or emotions that create the anxiety to begin with?

    I used to have really extreme experiences with anxiety. I would wake up feeling this pit in my stomach, like something really terrible was about to happen at any moment. Except… everything was fine.

    I had a good job, I was making a decent amount of money, I had a nice apartment, I was in a seemingly good relationship, and it seemed like everything was working out in my favor.

    On the outside, I seemed fine, but on the inside, I was dreading getting out of bed in the morning. Sometimes I literally couldn’t get out of bed in the morning. I would call my manager and tell her I was having a rough start to the day (again) and would be in as soon as I was “back to normal.”

    My breath would become choppy. My heart would race. My palms would sweat. My hands would shake. My thoughts would bounce between “What the heck’s wrong with you?” to “Why can’t you just suck it up and go to work?” and from “Am I going to have a heart attack?” to “Do I need to go back to the doctor again today?”

    I had anxiety, and I felt so pathetic about it. I felt guilty for not being more appreciative of all the things that were going right in my life. I hated myself for feeling anxious. I hated myself because I thought there was something really wrong with me that would never get better.

    It wasn’t until I realized that I had the whole situation backward that I was able to start making changes.

    I realized that it wasn’t the anxiety itself that was causing me to suffer—it was the way I was thinking about and engaging with the anxiety that was the issue. 

    Here’s the thing: Anxiety is a normal human emotion that serves an evolutionary purpose. It’s a feeling that we get when something is threatening us. Anxiety is an emotion that serves as a trigger to activate our fight-or-flight response in response to a dangerous situation. So it’s normal to feel anxiety, and just because you may feel anxious doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you.

    How we think about our anxiety is what will create our relationship to the emotion itself. 

    If every time you feel anxious you think negative thoughts about yourself, then you send yourself into a downward spiral of guilt, shame, anger, depression, and even more anxiety. You feel more anxious just because you’re anxious.

    But if you can reframe your thoughts to come from a place of positivity and love, everything changes. Instead of feeling like you’re broken or there’s something that needs to be fixed, you start to recognize that it’s natural to have an emotion like anxiety, and that you don’t need to engage with it in a negative, self-hating way.

    You can simply acknowledge its presence, try to notice what caused it, and non-judgmentally let it go. 

    Once we become conscious of our limiting beliefs and fears around anxiety, we can choose to see things differently.

    We can train our brains to know that anxiety is a part of life, and that it doesn’t dictate our worth as a human being.

    We can choose to reframe our beliefs to become more positive, accepting, and loving, in order to go easier on ourselves when we do experience anxiety.

    And we can take action steps toward living a life that is in more balance, with less anxiety and stress, and more happiness every day.

    By becoming aware of our thoughts and beliefs around anxiety and fear, we can consciously choose which beliefs are empowering and get to stay, and which are blocking our growth so that we can release them. Because here’s the bitter truth:

    Your thoughts about anxiety can cause you to suffer more than experiencing the anxiety itself.

    A while back, I got really interested in anxiety and my mindset overall. I started working with a coach who helped me understand on a more practical level the lessons I had learned from all the books I’d read: that your thoughts create your reality, and you are always in control of your thoughts.

    I started to reframe my thoughts about anxiety and shifted the lens through which I see the world from one of lack/fear to one of abundance/love.

    My life hasn’t been the same since.

    I still experience anxiety and fear—OMG, I experience so much fear! Running my own business feels approximately like: 50% singing in my shower and dancing around my apartment to Katy Perry and 50% wanting to hide in a cave for the rest of my life and never emerge again. But my relationship to anxiety and fear has changed, because my mindset has changed. I no longer see my anxiety as a crippling force in my life that I desperately want to get rid of.

    I now see anxiety as a gift, as a sign from the Universe that something is off balance in my life, and I feel grateful for having all of the tools I need to get back into balance. It is now my mission to help you do the same.

    So when you feel anxiety, check in with yourself on what your thoughts and beliefs around anxiety are. Do you talk down to yourself for feeling anxious? Do you judge yourself or criticize yourself? Can you be more compassionate instead? Do you believe you are an anxious person? Can you be willing to see yourself as something different?

    By becoming aware of the stories we tell ourselves about how we are and how the world is, we can consciously choose which stories serve us, and which need to be rewritten. You have the power to rewrite your anxiety story. The question is: will you do it?

  • What It Means to Be Loyal to Yourself and Why We All Need to Do It

    What It Means to Be Loyal to Yourself and Why We All Need to Do It

    “This above all: to thine own self be true. And it must follow, as night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” ~William Shakespeare

    A little while ago, a friend gave me a compliment that stopped me in my tracks. “I really admire how loyal you are to yourself.”

    In time-honored self-questioning mode, I immediately thought, “Oh my gosh, what does that mean? Does she think I’m selfish?” But once I decided not to go down that road, I started pondering what it might mean to be loyal to one’s self, and how it truly is the basis for a happier and more peaceful life. Here’s why.

    1. When you’re loyal to yourself, you take the time to know yourself.

    Usually we’re great at knowing the people around us—what the kids watch on TV, how the boss likes her coffee, what our partners find sexy—and have very little idea of what actually brings us joy. And even if we do, how often do we give it priority?

    You don’t have to be a raging egotist to value your own happiness as much as you do the neighbors’ kids’ friend’s pet rabbit, but you might think that was the case if you really examined how you allocate your time and energy. Usually it seems that everyone else—everyone—comes ahead of us. Being loyal to yourself means that you not only know what makes you happy, but you actually make sure you get enough of it to feel happy.

    For instance, in my case it means I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m an introvert, and have stopped trying to make myself behave like an extrovert.

    I’m being loyal to myself when I turn down social opportunities that I know will exhaust me, and then go a step further by refusing to put myself down for being “less than.” This is key! It kind of misses the point if we do something to take care of ourselves but then beat ourselves up for being lazy or selfish or even just different.

    2. You like yourself!

    That’s a stretch for a lot of us. We are often so much harder on ourselves than we would be on anyone else. Listen to how you talk to yourself routinely. Do you encourage and congratulate yourself, or only berate and exhort? Would you ever dream of talking to a child that way?

    Being loyal to yourself means treating yourself gently, being kind and forgiving and generous. Seeing the good, and not just what we wish were different. Why is that so hard for us to do?

    Maybe we think that we’ll never amount to anything if we don’t ride ourselves hard, but honestly, when did you ever find that kind of treatment motivating? We deserve better from ourselves.

    3. You honor your own feelings.

    Again, we are usually overly sensitive to others’ feelings and only too ready to deny or minimize our own. It’s possible to honor your feelings without either acting them out inappropriately or wallowing in them. It simply means that you are willing to pay attention to them, and to let them matter to you at least as much as everyone else’s feelings.

    The biggest problem with prioritizing others’ feelings is that, unlike our own feelings, we have to guess about theirs. How do we really know? I spent many, many unprofitable hours in the past trying to figure out what other people thought about me. For some reason, I didn’t spend nearly as much time asking myself what I thought about them!

    It’s incredibly liberating to get this one straight. When I’m loyal to myself, I care more about how I feel and a lot less about trying to figure out everyone else’s feelings. And strangely, the more I do this, the more other people seem to like me (hence the compliment from my friend).

    There’s something very appealing about people who are simply honest and straightforward with their feelings. Others feel relaxed and at ease around them, because they can trust that there are no hidden agendas to figure out.

    4. This honesty also allows you to be a more authentic version of yourself.

    When you aren’t worrying so much about how others see you, you can show them who you really are. Not everyone will love you, it’s true—but those who do will be loving the real you, not the one you made up for public consumption. This you is actually much more interesting, anyway!

    We lose so much when we trade in authenticity for social approval. We lose our spontaneity and zest for life. We lose confidence in our own judgment and taste. We lose ourselves, sometimes forever. And the world loses the contribution that only we can make.

    When I started being loyal to my true, authentic self, I felt both scared and exhilarated. I wasn’t sure that other people would truly like and accept the strange, quirky person I knew myself to be at heart, but I liked myself ever so much better than when I was playing a phony part.

    It takes a ton of energy to police your every word and action! When I stopped playing the role I thought was expected and started doing what I really wanted to do, I unleashed an incredible flow of creativity and joy.

    5. And here’s the best part: You give other people permission to be loyal to themselves as well.

    This makes the world a better place to be. The authentic self that you show the world calls out to the authentic selves in the people all around you. This is what we’re born for—relationships formed between two people who are being who they really, truly are. This kind of relationship will blow the socks off of any other relationship you’ve had.

    We show others how to treat us by the way we treat ourselves. When you’re loyal to yourself—when you know and like yourself, honor your own feelings, and show up in an authentic way—it only makes you better able to love others as well. Self-love and self-honesty are the necessary foundations for love and honesty in any relationship. As Shakespeare wrote, you can’t be false to others when you remain true to yourself.

    Ask yourself these questions frequently: Is this what I really want? How do I really feel in this situation?

    You might still choose to prioritize a loved one’s needs at times, but it will be a freely made choice, not an obligation, blind habit or manipulative ploy. You will make better decisions, based on who you really are. You will feel happier and more at peace, with yourself and the world.

    All because you have chosen to be loyal to yourself.

  • Overcoming a Negative Body Image: 4 Things to Remember

    Overcoming a Negative Body Image: 4 Things to Remember

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with an account of anorexia and may be triggering to some people.

    “You will never be free until you free yourself from the prison of your own false thoughts.” ~Philip Arnold

    I really don’t remember my life before anorexia. I think back to my early teenage years when I ate peanut butter sandwiches and drank hot chocolate without a single thought of how many calories I had consumed. There was no guilt, no worry, no need for perfection. How I wish I could get those carefree moments back.

    A few years ago anorexia completely distorted my perception of myself. All it took was one seemingly innocent comment from my classmate: Haven’t you gained weight recently? From that moment on, I no longer saw a healthy, fit person when I looked into the mirror. All I saw was an imperfect body.

    Meticulous calorie counting, diet restriction, and exercise time logging began to fill day after day. I wasn’t living as a human, but rather as an engineer treating my body as a machine. I loved myself for every pound I lost, every piece of clothing that felt a bit looser, and every little bit of food I managed to leave on my plate.

    I felt like a crazy person because my reasonable self knew that I shouldn’t be starving myself and exercising ridiculous number of hours every single day. I knew exactly what was wrong with me except there was nothing wrong.

    Somewhere in the evolution of the illness, I lost control. I ate one apple a day, drank only water, ran ten miles every morning, did squats and push-ups while studying, and paced in my room instead of sleeping. Nobody asked any questions, so I didn’t provide any answers.

    And then one day I was finally rewarded with my target weight glowing on the scale. I had done it! The hard work had paid off and I was free. Or so I thought. The control I now had over my body was deceiving. Once I reached my target weight, I couldn’t stop. The rush was too inviting. Every extra pound lost felt like a victory.

    You Don’t Notice You’re Losing Control Until It’s Lost

    When I looked into the mirror, I saw my ribs with their thinly stretched coating of papery skin, and every single hump of the spine as I bent over. People began to whisper. The doctors told me that I wouldn’t survive if I didn’t start eating. But I was proud. Every comment about how skinny I was felt like an accomplishment. My insecure self was at rest only when I met all so high standards I set for myself. It felt like a prison I couldn’t get out of.

    The prison was in my head. If at some point I was controlling everything related to food and body image, now I had lost control and the illness controlled me.

    I was hungry, cold, tired, and unable to pick myself up. The voice inside my head was telling me that nothing I did was good enough. If I ate a salad, I shouldn’t have had it. If I went for a walk, I hadn’t walked far enough. I pushed my body to the point that I collapsed.

    Since I’m at a healthy weight now, people ask me how I overcame anorexia. The truth is that the recovery didn’t happen overnight, and not without relapses. It took a lot of tears and struggling, but eventually I stopped drowning. I chose to step out of my self-imposed prison, with the help of friends, family, and a counselor.

    I was fortunate enough to have the support of loving parents who were there when things were hard, when I wanted to give up because I felt too fat, when I needed somebody to remind me that recovery was worth it. And more importantly, that I was worth it.

    It was a taxing mental battle that still at times rages within me. The old eating disorder voice creeps up sometimes, but I now recognize that voice as irrational and destructive. I’m learning to ignore it. I’m learning to quit running away from myself.

    4 Things to Remember When You’re Under the Spell of a Negative Body Image

    Negative thoughts about your body consume you. They take and take and take. To recover, you essentially have to figure out who you are again. You have to build yourself up from the smallest bits of what you know of yourself. You have to differentiate yourself from the condemning voice. Here are some of the things I learned (and had to embrace) on my way to recovery.

    1. Not all thoughts are facts.

    The problem with a negative self-image is that it feels like a fact. You can easily convince yourself of something that is not true. Even at 5’7” and my lowest weight (ninety pounds), I believed that I needed to be thinner.

    I felt that my waist wasn’t slim enough, my arms weren’t toned enough, and my thighs weren’t narrow enough. My mind was a very thorough liar, and there was nothing anyone could say to convince me otherwise.

    If I hadn’t learned about these lies and how to discern them, I would probably never have gotten out of that vicious cycle.

    You might have a hard time discerning truth from lies in the beginning, so instead of questioning whether your thoughts are facts, ask yourself which ones serve you and which do not.

    Growing up with an athletic sister, most of my negative thoughts evolved around my body. I could objectively say that although I was very thin, I wasn’t particularly lean. So I signed up for a gym membership and started lifting weights.

    However, what was initially a constructive thought—that it would serve me to build muscle—turned into an obsession within a few months.

    I remember standing in a basement gym, pushing a heavy barbell above my head, when I realized I was crying. I let my tears roll down my cheeks and focused back on the barbell. I had to finish my workout. I was exhausted and hungry from all the workouts I put my body through every single day, but all I could think of were toned arms and washboard abs.

    I think I knew long before that day that my desire for a lean body was no longer serving me. However, I couldn’t stop exercising. I had to sweat. I had to feel my heart race. My life revolved around my fitness routines.

    I knew then I needed to challenge the thoughts that told me I wasn’t lean or fit enough, and adjust accordingly.

    That isn’t to say that I stopped working out altogether. There are days I still experience anxiety when I know I won’t be able to get to the gym. But any time a destructive thought about my not-so-toned body pops up, I remind myself this doesn’t serve me and do my best to let it go and focus on something more positive. I may not have the leanest body, but I am more than just my physique.

    2. Absolute control is an illusion.

    Eating disorders are all about control. Control issues with what goes into your body and what comes out of your body. It’s about exerting control over at least one aspect of your life. However, it’s an illusion. In fact, you may feel in control, but be very out of control. The more successful you are at exerting control over how much food you take in, the less control you actually have. The eating disorder and twisted ideals are controlling you.

    Right before I hit rock bottom, I was paralyzed with fear and crippled with anxiety. I needed the eating disorder. I needed the identity and illusionary control it gave me. If I felt I got everything under perfect control, I felt strong. Paradoxically, that’s when I ended up under the doctors’ and my parents’ supervision, with no control over my food intake.

    Letting go of control was the hardest part. I would be lying if I said I no longer struggle. However, I’m much better at reminding myself that the greatest control is in letting go of the need for it.

    3. Perfectionism is unattainable.

    Perfectionism goes beyond doing your best. It’s about setting extremely high standards that are unrealistic. In my perpetual quest for perfection, I believed I could meet those high standards. I strived for perfection in my studies, relationships, cleanliness, exercise, and diet. Mediocrity was unsatisfactory. It was all or nothing.

    Perfection is so addictive because it locks you into thinking that if you do everything perfectly, you can minimize the feelings of pain and judgment. But the truth is, you can’t. There will always be people in your life who judge you no matter what you do or what you say.

    The one thing you can do is to surrender. Accept that you are work in progress. Embrace all parts of yourself, even those that seem “imperfect” to you. Practice forgiveness and self-compassion. And most importantly, be patient. Adopting new patterns of thinking takes time, but the work is worth it.

    4. Food isn’t the enemy.

    The difficulty with negative body image is that it’s closely tied to weight (and therefore, food). But unlike a drug addict, you can’t avoid the trigger. You can’t simply avoid food for the rest of your life, although it is very tempting to adopt the mindset that the fewer calories you eat, the better.

    In that sense, healthy eating literally saved my life. Fueling my body with simple whole foods shifted my focus from calorie counting to nourishment. Instead of weighing myself several times a day, I focused on my health.

    At times, I still pay attention to how my clothes fit and how I look in the mirror, but food is no longer the enemy. It’s the means to achieve the good health we all find so radiantly beautiful—glowing skin, shiny hair, and a fit, strong body.

    Silencing the Voice

    Do I still struggle at times? Yes. However, when my negative thoughts and struggles reappear, I no longer let them run my life. I recognize them as something I must overcome. There are days that I have to make a conscious effort to eat and not panic when the scale shows an increase. But thankfully, I know the price of letting fear take over my life.

    I know that one day I’ll be able to step on the scale and not cringe at the numbers that appear in front of me. One day, I’ll be able to eat a meal without thinking about calories. One day, my mind will be completely free. Until that day, I keep silencing that voice.

  • We Can Choose Different Ways Without One of Us Being Wrong

    We Can Choose Different Ways Without One of Us Being Wrong

    “You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.” ~Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

    Many of us are committed to a journey of change and personal growth. While these are traits to be admired and celebrated, they can also have a darker side. We can become a little militant and dogmatic when we’re on our journeys.

    As we focus on our attempts to make changes in our own lives, our views can start to narrow and become very black and white. We become so tuned into what we are doing that we forget there’s more than one way to do just about anything.

    We seek out others that agree with us to back up ‘our views.’ This may be part of our primal wiring to be part of a collective. We seek a tribe.

    Being part of a tribe can be intoxicating. Being with people that share our passion is exciting. It’s great to have a common goal or view and be able to talk about our passions with others that really get it. We’re all in this together.

    Being in a tribe can also distort our perspective. Only seeing and hearing a biased view. Ironically, we can lose objectivity as we seek clarity. Becoming more rigid as we search for methods and hacks.

    Or maybe we enjoy citing this study or that to ‘prove’ our point. Using science (bad science oftentimes) as our weapon of choice to make ourselves feel and sound knowledgeable.

    Both these traits can lead to us becoming dogmatic, thinking our way is the only way.

    A Personal Example or Two

    I notice this habit of falling back on dogma for a good reason—I do it myself.

    An example would be my approach to exercise.

    I choose to keep myself strong with my own bodyweight (calisthenics). The ability to use one’s own body through space is impressive to me and I feel it’s the ultimate expression of strength. Not everyone shares this view of course. Many others enjoy hoisting large amounts of iron or swinging a kettlebell.

    As I have deepened my own practice of bodyweight training and enjoyed the benefits it brings, I have also found myself judging the way others exercise at times. Shaking my head at people in the gym I perceive to be doing something silly or dangerous.

    Another favorite, quoting from a famous fitness authority or studies to hammer home a point, perhaps how repeated loading of the spine with weights can have negative connotations. Or how balancing on a bosu ball has little carryover to anything other than balancing on a bosu ball.

    Why do I do this? I’ve chosen my route, why do I feel the need to judge the way others choose to exercise? I’m certainly no expert.

    Another example would be my journey into simplicity and applying 80/20 principles to my life. Several years ago I realized I was accumulating more in my life. More things that didn’t really matter to me or speak to me on a spiritual level. Life felt more complicated than I wanted it to be.

    In response, I started to make some changes. It’s a journey I’ve documented previously on Tiny Buddha. The upshot of these changes has been that the quality of my own life has improved significantly. There is more focus and clarity in my life.

    Along the way, as I’ve traveled further down the rabbit hole of simplicity, I find myself casting a weary eye at others oftentimes. Judging them for complicating things, or not grasping the power in simple, or for not saying no to commitments they have no capacity to keep.

    None of this is useful to them, none of it is useful for my internal energy. Yet, still I have to fight this pull to judge. Justifying it somehow as me now knowing better. How arrogant and self-righteous this all sounds as I write the words, and for good reason—it is.

    Your Journey is Your Journey

    No need to complicate things. Personal journeys should be personal. Let’s be clear, we’re not in competition and even if we are, it’s with ourselves.

    You can call yourself a minimalist if you like, but owning less than your neighbor doesn’t automatically make you a better person.

    You can call yourself a mindfulness advocate and commit to daily meditation, but not everyone needs a formal meditative practice to be mindful. Equally, not everyone with a daily meditative practice is mindful.

    You can choose to strengthen your body by lifting your own body if you like, but it’s fine if someone else chooses to push weights or rocks instead.

    You can choose to follow a Paleo diet without bashing vegans, or vice versa. People can, and do, thrive on many diets as the Blue Zones around the world already prove.

    You can choose to follow a religion that calls to you, but you can do that without damning someone else who follows a different faith.

    You can choose to do all of this quietly in your own way. Or you can choose to share what you are doing with others in the hope of inspiring them to join you, or support you on your journey. If you share, let’s drop any degree of superiority or smugness. No need to hide behind dogma or use it as a weapon to fire at others.

    Follow your passions in life, embrace them, and really enjoy them, but be aware that others are just as passionate about their passions. Leave the dogma behind and remember, there are many routes to the top of any mountain.

    Note: This post is as much a reminder to myself as it is to you. I hope to rid myself of this affliction to hide behind dogma at times. If you notice me doing it, please feel free to remind me of these words. 😉

  • Book Giveaway: Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal and The Self-Love Experiment

    Book Giveaway: Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal and The Self-Love Experiment

    UPDATE: The winners for this giveaway are Alexandra Martinez and Kathy Kortegaard.

    Happy October, friends! Over the past several months since I launched Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal, I’ve been excited to receive some wonderful feedback on the thought-provoking prompts and questions, and the coloring pages.

    I decided to create this journal because adopting a gratitude practice has been life changing for me; it’s shifted my perspective, boosted my mood, and enabled me to hold on to optimism during some of the darkest times of my life.

    And I chose to include coloring pages because I’ve been obsessed with adult coloring since it became a thing. Sitting with my markers and a book with intricate pictures or mandalas, I feel relaxed, completely focused on the present, and joyfully connected to the creative part of my brain.

    If you haven’t yet picked up a copy—or if you’d like an extra for a friend—now’s your chance to win one.

    And because the best gratitude practice is rooted in appreciation for yourself, I’m also giving away a copy of my good friend Shannon Kaiser’s new book The Self-Love Experiment.

    About Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal

    This flexibound interactive journal includes questions and prompts to help you reflect on everything that’s worth appreciating in your life.

    Sprinkled throughout the journal are fifteen coloring pages depicting ordinary, often overlooked objects that enhance our lives, with space for written reflection on the page.

    Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal will help you recognize your blessings, focus on the positive, and foster optimism so you can be your best, happiest self every day.

    About The Self-Love Experiment

    Whether you want to lose weight, land your dream job, find your soul mate, or get out of debt, it all starts with self-love.

    Shannon Kaiser learned the secrets to loving herself, finding purpose, and living a passion-filled life after recovering from an eating disorder, drug addiction, corporate burnout, and depression. She walks you through her own personal experiment, a simple plan that compassionately guides you through the process of removing fear-based thoughts, so you can fall in love with life.

    If you want to change your outcome in life, you have to change your daily habits and perspective. The Self-Love Experiment will help you do just that.

    The Giveaway

    To enter to win a copy of Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal or a copy of The Self-Love Experiment:

    • Leave a comment below sharing something you’re grateful for today or something you appreciate about yourself (or both!)
    • For an extra entry, share the link to this giveaway on one of your social media pages and include that link in a second comment

    You can enter until midnight, PST, on Sunday, October 8th. Books will ship during the week of October 16th (as I’ll be on vacation before then).

    If you’d rather not wait to grab both of these books you can find Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal on Amazon here, and The Self-Love Experiment here.

    FTC Disclosure: I receive complimentary books for reviews and interviews on tinybuddha.com, but I am not compensated for writing or obligated to write anything specific. I am an Amazon affiliate, meaning I earn a percentage of all books purchased through the links I provide on this site. 

  • Why Self-Compassion Is the Key to Living the Life You Want

    Why Self-Compassion Is the Key to Living the Life You Want

    “The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.” ~Carl Rogers

    When was the last time you stopped trying to improve something about yourself or your life?

    I’ve spent a lot of my life chasing goals. I guess it goes with the territory as a cancer survivor who always felt like she had something to prove, even twenty years later.

    For everything the doctors told me I could not do because of my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma (or as a result of the chemotherapy that healed me), I gave my all to accomplish and strive until I’d shown them they were wrong.

    Can’t run a marathon because you’ve incurred lung damage? “You can do anything you set your mind to” was my mantra to run not just one, but five marathons.

    Except that guess what? I was not just a goal setter. I was a perpetually unsatisfied goal setter. No matter what I did, or how much I told myself I was engaging in “healthy striving” as Brené Brown writes, it was never enough.

    I thought that I’d put my goal-setting ways behind me when I found my yoga practice and tried learning to surf.

    These adventures propelled me into a level of inquiry and a journey to find clarity and purpose with determination instead of expectation. It was about the big and little moments, I told myself. The learning, the feedback, the process—dropping attachments to live with more intention.

    In many ways it made sense. I spent eighteen months trying to rid myself of cancer. I was so supremely focused on the final destination of going into remission and then being cured that it seemed superfluous to notice anything that happened along the way. It finally occurred to me that I’d lived most of my life in denial instead of in acceptance—always trying to forge ahead instead of face the present moment.

    But guess what? As much as I tried to walk the walk, there was still a subtle, underlying thread of needing to improve that ran through my veins.

    Even my yoga—the practice that I equate to the ultimate masterclass in acceptance—was driven by subliminal expectations.

    Take, for instance, my heart-centered intention to strengthen my (non-existent) inversion practice. I told myself that flying upside down symbolized me being able to support myself. I’d labeled it as an intention, but the more I worked on it, the more I realized my focus that was cloaked by a belief that my core was too weak to magically levitate into a headstand or a “simple” arm balance. One goal (hidden in an intention costume), had veered stealthily into a scarcity mindset.

    And once that mindset takes hold, it spreads quickly and without discrimination into a constant echo of pervasive thoughts.

    I’d tried (many times) to use the mantra “I am exactly where I need to be in this moment.” On my yoga mat, in my work, and in my relationships. But nothing worked to help me flip the switch away from the gaps in my success and towards the celebration of the present moment and progress.

    And then summer happened.

    I had time in my schedule and I started to wonder, maybe I am supposed to use this season of my life to practice acceptance. Maybe all of my free-time isn’t a judgment or an indicator of lack of progress but is an opportunity to nourish and nourish myself.

    What if instead of wanting to be something that I wasn’t, I actually needed to nurture my practice (and life) with more tenderness? Could I be grateful and give myself permission to find nourishment instead of judgment?

    A friend encapsulated my thinking. She remarked simply: It sounds as if you are noticing self-compassion instead of self-improvement.

    Wow. Yes. That was it!

    What if acceptance, transformation, and progress have nothing to do with self-improvement?

    What if true acceptance of the present moment and long-term transformation were actually powered by the process of nurturing myself with the nourishment of love and kindness?

    “Build inner strength instead of outer dependencies.” ~Danielle LaPorte

    Suddenly these words and ideas started to appear everywhere. Each of these messages or examples reminded me of what happens when you nurture the parts of you that matter most and nourish my your spirit with what feels delicious. The universe was sending me nudge after nudge—it was up to me to notice and pay attention.

    Yes, I meditated daily. Yes, I was writing my morning pages each day. Yes, I was starting each work day thinking about how I wanted to feel when I went to sleep at night. But was I actively and intentionally nurturing the deeper layers of me with nourishment that was aligned to my values and dharma?

    So often we think about compassion as something we need to have for others, but what about ourselves? I’m good at taking care of everyone else, but somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that my heart and soul needed the same gift of understanding and compassion—and that I was the only one that could supply the unique medicine it needed.

    What if the magic to creating the change you want in your life is less about self-improvement and more about self-compassion?

    Now, don’t get me wrong. We all have desires. Those are not going away (nor should they).

    But desire should not be our compass for daily life. Our values and life’s purpose are vastly more powerful navigational tools.

    So if not desire or self-improvement, then what?

    Imagine for a moment what it would feel like to go to bed tonight believing that you’d nourished and nurtured your mind, body, and spirit with the simple acknowledgment that you are exactly where you need to be in this moment.

    How would your day be different if you gave yourself permission to be as you are, replacing judgment or labels with awareness and presence?

    A funny thing happened when I started to make nurturing and nourishment my focus.

    I made food choices with intention and then noticed how I felt afterward.

    I chose tender yoga practices instead of heat-building ones.

    I trusted that I was actively planting seeds each day to cultivate connection and relationships rather than waiting for opportunities to present themselves.

    I considered the open times in my schedule as opportunities to play with my daughter and puppy instead of criticizing myself.

    I chose to read instead of watch television. My to-do lists became less cluttered and more aligned with my values.

    Ideas started to flow more freely. My stillness practice felt deeper. I noticed sounds, colors, and scents with more boldness.

    And most importantly? I felt hope inside of me and remembered that everything I’ve ever thought I “needed” was already inside me, just waiting to be revealed.

    4 Steps to Practice Nurturing and Nourishing Yourself with Self-Compassion

    1. Tune into your awareness. 

    No, I’m not going to add to the number of articles that you’ve read that says you need to meditate. But deepening your connection to yourself means becoming aware of the physical sensations and emotions that you feel each day instead of letting the millions of thoughts that travel through your mind each day take over.

    It can be as simple as pausing at the end of a task or activity. Notice how your body feels without rushing to label what you are sensing as good or bad. This might take practice, and it might be subtle at first. Invite your body to be a benevolent messenger of information even for sensations that feel less than delicious.

    2. Ask yourself: What is going right in this moment? 

    This gratitude practice helps you move from noticing the gaps toward the celebration of wins big and small.

    When I went surfing recently, our instructor encouraged us to make a big first pump after every wave we “caught” regardless of how long we rode the wave of energy or whether we stayed on our belly or popped up. Noticing the victories—no matter the size or magnitude—sends a message that the journey is more important than the final destination.

    3. Check in with your truth: Is your day full of “have to’s” or “want to’s”?

    This is a big one. Making a list of priorities and things to do can be a great tool to stay focused, except when everything on that list is out of alignment with your values.

    Sure, there are some things in life that just have to get done. Maybe you can ask for help with tasks that bring up intuitive flags, or maybe you can find some aspect of the task to get excited about and change the perspective. Or maybe, you can simply let that task go.

    Recently, a friend asked me if I’d be at one of our favorite power vinyasa classes. As much as I wanted to see my friend, I noticed a gentle tug in my heart and I took a moment to get quiet and check in with my truth.

    That class felt like a should, based on a belief that I needed to keep up with the practice that I’d depended on to build physical and mental strength. But what I was really craving was something quieter. Something that would nourish that which was hidden. A yin practice. So I said no and cherished a nurturing and nourishing home practice, knowing that I could make plans to see my friend another time.

    4. Make a list of what feels delicious to your heart, mind, and body and then let yourself PLAY. 

    Do you love coffee? Find a lovely new cafe for a midday treat.

    Does paddleboarding light you up? Rent one or take a class.

    Play—even quiet activities like going for an evening walk, taking a bath, or spending an evening reading—nourishes the heart and mind. In fact, play helps inspire creativity and often makes us more productive, even when we’ve taken time off to engage in the activity.

    —

    Can it really be that easy? Four steps to cultivate self-compassion as the ultimate tool for living the life you really crave?

    Well, no. These practices are never easy. It is a practice for a reason, mainly that it takes daily effort. But believing that you have everything you need already inside you offers a transformational opportunity to nurture, nourish, and accept the reflection that you see in the mirror as this moment’s best version of you.

  • Why I Keep My Heart Open Even Though I’ve Been Deceived

    Why I Keep My Heart Open Even Though I’ve Been Deceived

    “You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you’ll live in torment if you don’t trust enough.” ~Frank Crane

    I’m heading home with a latte in hand, listening to This American Life through my headphones when a woman sitting on a bench outside the café waves me down. She looks like she’s in her sixties with grayish brown bangs and a worn pink winter jacket. I pull my headphones out of my ears.

    “Excuse me, can you tell me how far it is from here to 77 Westwood?” she asks. I take my phone out, Google map the address, and see that it’s thirty-seven minutes away in the suburbs.

    “Aw, shit,” she mumbles. Spit collects at the corner of her mouth. Her teeth are yellowed and I wonder if she’s a smoker.

    “What’s wrong? Where do you have to be?” My eyes rest on two leg braces leaning on the bench beside her that I hadn’t noticed before.

    “My handicap transport cancelled on me at the last minute and you have to book those things like three or four days in advance, so now I’m stuck here and I need to get home.”

    I ask if there is anyone that can pick her up. She shakes her head and proceeds to ask me, “How come people can be so mean?”

    Apparently the person she asked for help right before me had sworn at her and told her to leave him alone, which shook up whatever faith she had in humanity.

    With a heavy heart, she asks me questions I am not sure I have answers to like, why don’t people have more compassion? I can feel my heart inching out toward her. She has spoken to something in me that feels compelled to reassure her that not everyone is cold and heartless. There are good people in this world and it is important that she knows that.

    Pointing to her legs she says, “This could happen to anyone.” She recounts how she had an accident but would do anything if she could just walk again to get from the bench where we were to the home where she longed to get back to.

    In the five minutes I stand beside her this is what I learn: She’s getting her PhD in Child Psychology at McGill. She once had a diplomatic passport because her father used to work for the Prime Minister. She traveled all around the world with her parents and lived in Japan for many years. She is half Greek and half eastern European.

    “My grandmother used to make the best gefilte fish.” Because it turns out her grandmother used to cook for the Steinbergs­, a prominent Jewish family that founded grocery store chains in Quebec in the early 1900’s. At this point I take out my wallet and look at the two $20 bills lying in there side by side.

    —

    I start my day with a simple prayer that Marianne Williamson taught me from the book A Course in Miracles. I ask the universe, “Where would you have me go? What would you have me do? What would you have me say, and to whom?”

    Whoever I encounter that day or whatever happens, I believe in some way I am led to them. So for whatever reason, this woman sitting outside the café was put in my path.

    When I hand her the bills she takes my hands in hers, and they are warm and soft. “God bless you,” She says. I look into her pale blue, kind eyes and am reminded of my grandfather’s eyes. A survivor of the holocaust, he had eyes that were deep wells of untold pain and stories and kindness.

    I’m happy to prove that there are good people out there, that the universe is a kind place.

    She tells me I did a “mitzvah,” clearly familiar with Jewish vernacular. I ask her how to say thank you in Japanese and she proceeds to delight me with a few sentences. I say goodbye and head home to tell my husband Dan about the woman on the bench I just met.

    —

    The story could have ended there, but it’s what happened the following day that threw me off balance.

    I was walking back from doing some errands when a woman caught my eye. She was sitting on a ledge outside the YMCA talking to another woman standing beside her. I positioned myself so that the sitting woman couldn’t see me, but I could still overhear their conversation. It went something like this.

    “I’m sorry but my transport cancelled and I need to get home. Can you check on your phone how far it is?”

    My heart dropped and I could feel my face getting hot. I stood there for a moment in shock watching as stranger after stranger continued to stop for her, wanting to help.

    I went home and recounted the story to Dan. As I spoke, I felt my emotions transform from anger to utter confusion. I asked myself, was she really disabled? Was she really a student? What was true and what was just a story to pull at the hearts of strangers passing by? Did it even matter? I wasn’t sure.

    Tears streamed down my cheeks as I spoke. I suddenly felt naïve and foolish. “How do I respond to those in need from now on?” I asked him. “How do I know who really needs my help? Do I close my heart in protection? Do I stop giving because maybe I’ll be fooled again? Do I confront her?”

    Dan held me and assured me I didn’t have to close up. He told me that there was no harm in giving to her. I didn’t put myself in danger. I didn’t get pulled into a thousand dollar scam. I lost forty dollars to someone who probably needed it a lot more than I did, and maybe next time I wouldn’t be fooled again.

    After sleeping on it, I realized that what angered me most was the feeling of being deceived. I hated feeling so vulnerable and pulled into someone’s story that I couldn’t distinguish truth from scam.

    Every day in my work I hear my client’s stories of pain and struggle, and in order to empathize with them, a part of me needs to feel into that part of myself that they are struggling with. And what I realized was that, while I have a gift for empathy and a soft spot for people’s vulnerability, it can also be my kryptonite.

    If I’m not aware of the shadow side of the innocent part of me that wants to be helpful, I can easily be taken advantage of.

    The innocent is an archetype that we all have as children. We see it in every Disney movie when the film begins with a child, an orphan– someone who naively steps out alone into the forest to greet the animals without knowing who is a threat and who they can trust, which might lead them to befriend a wolf who lures them into the dark forest by pretending to be a grandmother who looks shockingly like a wolf.

    The innocent is the part of us who is naturally open and trusts that people are who they say they are. It is the part of us that might give another chance to a date whose been treating the waitress poorly, or excuse the behavior of someone who serves our own interests. But maybe we should take Maya Angelou’s words to heart, “When people show you who they are, believe them.”

    Once you know that you’ve been tricked, it’s natural to feel angry, and there is always the possibility of becoming cynical.

    I could have gotten mad and, in the extreme case, called the cops on her, or I could have warned all the other strangers not to approach her because she was a liar and a swindler. It is far easier to react out of fear or injured pride and exact our revenge.

    We promise ourselves we will never be swindled again—“Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” If we start to believe that everyone is motivated by self-interest or that everyone is out to get us, we risk closing our hearts instead of opening up to compassion.

    What I learned was even after all that, the woman on the bench still deserved my compassion. I still had the privileged position of being able to walk away, come back home, and have dinner with my loving husband.

    I had a choice whether to give to her at all. No one would be the wiser if I chose to walk away. But in practicing being a loving and compassionate person, I learned that I want to give without attachment to how it will be received and without expectation that I am owed something in return.

    I can’t control how the money is spent once I choose to give it, and if I wanted to do that, I could have bought her a meal instead.

    I don’t think it is my business to judge anyone else’s life and circumstances. Instead, I want to be able to give and let go, and walk away with my heart a little lighter. Let go of needing to hear a thank you. Let go of the gesture being appreciated. Let go of the attachment to a particular outcome. Let go of judgment. Let go of control.

    I know that the only thing I can ever be in charge of is myself and my own response—my thoughts, my words, my actions, and the decision to show up every day and try and keep this heart of mine open when it is so much easier, and more tempting, to keep it closed.

    Have you ever been deceived? Have you been more discerning since then? What’s helped you hold on to your compassion?

  • How to Prevent Blame and Criticism from Destroying Your Relationship

    How to Prevent Blame and Criticism from Destroying Your Relationship

    “Who is it that’s unhappy? The one who finds fault.” ~Anonymous

    If you are anything like me, you yearn to know in your bones that you are showing up in your primary relationship as your best self. You want to be loving, kind, and supportive (and to reap the gifts those qualities sow in your love life). But certain habits of interaction get in the way, making you feel inept and ashamed.

    Like many of us, I grew up in a family that was steeped in criticism and blame. Though I rebelled against this behavior intellectually, it found its way deep into me.

    When the first blush of love-bliss wore off in my more serious relationships, blame and criticism would rear their ugly heads, leaving me guilt ridden and very disappointed in myself. It always created distance in my relationships.

    This habit is the top reason relationships fall apart. Not only does it feel terrible to the one being criticized, it also destroys the perpetrator’s own sense of confidence in their worthiness and integrity, further shutting down the free flow of love.

    Looking back at my first marriage, I see that this ingrained and destructive habit was at the root of our love’s erosion. Because I tended to use a subtle form of blame and criticism that were harder to label as such (I mostly thought I was asking for things, when actually I was belittling and condemning), it became pervasive. Over time, like weeds left to grow rampant, it overtook our joy entirely.

    Criticism and blame can be blatant or subtle. The obvious expressions are often in the actual words we choose. But, as I learned the hard way, it’s the subtler forms of blame and criticism that can do the most damage because they are harder to spot.

    Since much of our communication is non-verbal (up to 93%!), it makes sense to take a good look at if and how we are imparting blame and criticism without words.

    Some of these subtle ways include:

    ~Tone of voice (“Can you please stop…” said with a tone that drips blame or implies stupidity.)

    ~Sounds (“Ugh!” meaning, “There you go again.”)

    ~Body language (rolling your eyes, giving them cold looks… I once stuck out my tongue at my partner in a heated moment.)

    ~Asking someone to “do better” can be an insidious form of criticism, if not done well. This was my main way of using it.

    In my current partnership I vowed to do things very differently. I let him be him, no complaints. We enjoyed years of authentic, kind, tolerant, and loving ways of relating to each other. I felt proud and happy to have seemingly overcome that bad habit.

    And then we hit a rough patch. Over the course of one stressful year we had a baby, with all the lack of sleep and physical and emotional adjustments that brings, as well as built a house (a huge and challenging job…as the saying goes: “build a house, lose a spouse”), while also raising my older boys and maintaining the rest of our lives.

    The strain of this time put a lot of pressure on me, and I found my old bad habit of blaming and criticizing really hard to suppress, as if it had a life of its own.

    I started subtly putting him down, sometimes saying things like, “You never listen!” or once, “You are such a teenager!” because he stayed out later than he said he would. But mostly it showed up in my tone of voice, judgmental and intolerant. This would set him off and send us downhill fast.

    This went on for a few months. I felt terrible about it, yet didn’t know how to stop. The effect was that he became more on guard, not as open and warm as usual. And I started berating myself for my behavior, which cut me off from being able to feel and express my warmth and love.

    It also made me afraid I might destroy this incredibly good thing we had—one of the most cherished things in my life.

    It was time to regroup. So I rested up and rebalanced a bit. It was from this more centered place that I had the capacity to take a really hard look at where I was going wrong.

    The powerful insights I discovered have all but completely eliminated that harmful way of relating. Here they are for you, with tips on how to live them so that you can keep, revive, and grow that beautiful thing that is the love in your life.

    1. Build an inner eco-system of self-compassion. 

    Don’t make the mistake of re-directing any blame back at yourself. Instead, try kindness and curiosity.

    Start by understanding that blame and criticism are misguided attempts at protecting yourself and, ironically, at creating a better relationship. At the heart of it is a longing to feel good. Although the goal is virtuous, the method is not. Just understanding this invokes a sense of self-compassion.

    Then, consciously cultivate an attitude of kindness toward yourself.

    The next time you are experiencing the fallout emotions of having blamed or criticized your partner, simply feel what you feel. Be there with yourself the way you would with a child who is having a temper tantrum—compassionately.

    Put your hand on your own heart (or cheek or arm) and say to yourself “be safe, be well, be at ease, my dear.” I like to call myself “my love, or my sweet” when I do this.

    Experiment and see what feels most resonant for you. As feel-good hormones are released through this simple action, you start to feel more safe and at ease inside yourself. This raises your ability to be your authentically loving self in your relationship.

    2. Own it.  

    Taking responsibility for your unskillful ways is essential for wholeheartedly ending them.

    Whether in the heat of the moment or later, you must be able to say: “Oops, my bad—again!” Admitting your blunder to yourself (compassionately) and to your significant other is part of taking responsibility for your actions.

    Doing so will help soften your partner’s barbed defenses and start to ease any tension. An authentic “I’m sorry” can work wonders, as a starting point.

    Own that when you are complaining or blaming you usually want something but are simply sharing that ineffectively. Instead, figure out what you want. Then be brave enough to ask for it—when you are ready to use a calm kind tone.

    3. Notice that fear is the underbelly of blame and criticism. 

    Below every angry expression of blame or criticism is fear. Fear of discomfort, pain, or otherwise feeling bad. Fear hijacks our brain and makes even our allies look like enemies, leaving behind the rational, kind, and loving parts of our nature.

    A small example would be if I were whining to my man about how he never sticks to his agreements about our division of house chores. Underneath that blaming expression is the fear of feeling stressed out and exhausted by having to squeeze more chores into my already full schedule.

    The key here is being deeply and bravely honest with yourself. When you find yourself about to criticize or blame someone, or having just done so, ask yourself, “What am I afraid of here?”

    Then ask, “What’s underneath that?” You might find that sadness lives there. Or even shame. Either way, this will help shift you out of anger and into curiosity, compassion, and a sense of integrity as you draw closer to your genuine truth. If you can uncover that truth just once, it will unravel the grip of the habit and make it easier to stop the next time it tries to grab you.

    4. Enlist your body.

    When the mood of blame and criticism hovers close, smothering you from the inside out, move your body. Shift your position, go for a walk or, my favorite, dance.

    Instead of closing in on yourself, as fear and anger cause us to do, allow movement to physically open your posture, shake out the irritation, express the frustration, and soften your muscles.

    Or maybe your need is to rest, shifting the body into a softer easeful state. This will melt your fear brain, connect you to your essence and get you back to acting from your natural kind goodness.

    5. Redirect to appreciation. 

    Ask yourself a really good positivity-boosting question to direct your attention toward appreciation. As a self-protective measure, our brains are wired to look for the negative. To counteract this bias in our relationships, we must consciously look for what is positive.

    So ask yourself, “What is wonderful to me about him/her?” If at first answers come slowly, stick with it and the floodgates will open.

    When I do this I start to see many things that I adore about my man, and it fills me with love, replacing anger or fear. Nothing is too little: his cheekbones, the way he plays with our sons, the unique sound of his breathing as he shifts into sleep…

    Sharing these appreciations with your partner through words or gestures encourages a flourishing of warmth and affection.

    —

    Now that I am through those few months of stress when I was once again ensnared by the temptation to criticize and blame, I am grateful for that time because it motivated me to dig out the roots of that harmful habit.

    I am now deeply confident in my ability to show up as my best, most loving self in my partnership (which helps my man do the same).

    These days, if my love life were a garden, it would be the most lush, colorful, and medicinal place, with an occasional root leftover from that giant old criticism tree that I pulled up not so long ago.

    When those roots occasionally grow a shoot, I notice it and gently but firmly pull it up using the techniques I discovered. Then I turn back to adoring my magical garden, allowing it to nourish my whole life. And you can do this too.

    Couple painting here

  • 3 Ways to Decide Whose Opinion of You Matters

    3 Ways to Decide Whose Opinion of You Matters

    “The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.” ~Coco Chanel

    “You know, Joui, I really like how you look tonight. I always thought your style before was… just a little wacky,” smiled Harry, a man I’d met during a forced networking meeting. He then smirked knowingly, like he was doing me a great favor.

    Inside I screamed.

    As a stylist one of the biggest fears my clients mention when we discuss any big change is feedback, judgment, and shame from their peers. And they are right to be fearful.

    People will have commentary, trust me. But while everyone has an opinion, not everyone has a clue.

    So we must be extremely careful who we let give us feedback.

    I have made this mistake many times in the past. I let another person’s opinion cloud my own vision without first asking myself whether I even respect that opinion.

    Like Harry, somehow just because they are a person with eyes I allow their remark to dig deep into my psyche and contort my energetic field. It feels like watching too many moving images at once.

    Yes, I am sensitive. One unchecked opinion can cause me to feel ungrounded and unable to think clearly for myself.

    But ultimately, this is my life. I’m the only one living behind my eyes, so I am the only one who can and should take ownership of my decisions.

    So in cleansing my life recently I decided to create a set of requisites to better decide whose opinions I will let in.

    I first came upon the idea in Brené Brown’s book Daring Greatly. She says that the work that scares us makes us most alive. But the more public and vocal you get, the more vulnerable you can become to outside input.

    And so she created criteria for her own feedback “force field,” so to speak. Brown says “If you are not in the arena and also getting your arse kicked, I am not interested in your feedback.”

    Let’s get back to Harry, for example. He made this comment during the annual BNI (Business Networking International) holiday party.

    I was dropping by the BNI holiday party about a year after I ended my membership, mainly for old times sake. It was during a period of my style where I was intentionally letting go of originality and flamboyance to explore different ways of expressing my identity.

    The night of the party I was in full-blown “mainstream sexy,” a pair of fitted black leggings, a classic pair of black heels, a white sweater, simple earrings. It was part identity experiment and part research project to understand women who enjoy looking this way so I could better support a broader range of style choices.

    Now it was Harry’s turn to tell me how the flat-ironed, mainstream version of me was so much better than the wacky side he’d seen a year before. And let me just say, from one angle he was right.

    I looked great. But sometimes looking “great” isn’t the point.

    In a world of endless options, it’s more important to look like me.

    This is why getting your criteria straight for whose input you let in is vital. Otherwise, it is very easy to find yourself waking up one day and not recognizing yourself because you fell into other people’s ideas of who you are instead of your own.

    If you are going to allow someone to be a competent mirror for you, here are a few factors I suggest considering.

    1. Is this person someone whose life’s work you admire? Is this someone with a promising, positive vision of themselves in the world? Essentially, do you love what they are up to?

    2. Do you love the way this individual sees you and who you aspire to be? Are they someone who supports you and inspires you to rise to every opportunity for personal growth?

    3. If this person is commenting on style, image, or branding do they have good taste? Do they have taste you admire? Have they mastered aesthetics? According to Brené Brown, are they “in the arena”?

    Most importantly, trust most those people that hold you in a warm, accepting light, and have your best interests at heart.

    So let’s take a moment to reflect on Harry and his opinion of my look.

    1. Was Harry the epitome of style? Answer: No.

    2. Was Harry the type of person I respected in work, career, life? Answer: No.

    3. Was Harry the kind of person I wanted more of in my world? Answer: Once again no.

    So how did I interpret Harry’s comment? Well, it did influence me in so far as I had been looking for a moment to stop experimenting in this style. His response to “Mainstream Joui” reminded me I was off.

    I needed more flair. I needed to bring back a little Wacky Joui, and fast. I guess this is an example of a reverse influence.

    You must carefully and consciously select the people who you actively allow to influence you, and whose judgments you take to heart.

    And remember, if you are a creative, empath, artist, or any type of deeply sensitive being, be on high alert. You may be extremely vulnerable to molding yourself to those around you and what they need.

    Choosing who you hang around with has the power to make or break you. You are the company you keep.

    You are the opinion of those closest to you.

    Chose wisely.

  • 3 Empowering Ways to Reframe Anxiety: Work With It, Not Against It

    3 Empowering Ways to Reframe Anxiety: Work With It, Not Against It

    “If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life—and only then will I be free to become myself.” ~Martin Heidegger

    If you are a lifelong anxiety warrior like me, you’ve been on a journey of ups and downs.

    Anxiety fills our whole bodies. Tension. Heart pounding. Sometimes I feel like my heart must be visibly pulsating so much so that if there are others around, they can see it.

    There are varying levels and types of anxiety, including clinical disorders. But the thing that we have in common is that at times we feel intense despair—like the world is caving in on us. We can feel literally stuck and life may even feel meaningless.

    But what if anxiety isn’t always negative? What if we could begin to see it differently?

    I’m going to share with you three archetypes that I use to cognitively reframe anxiety. Seeing anxiety in these ways has helped me feel more empowered in my journey.

    First, I’d like to share a short story about my journey with anxiety.

    I began to experience anxiety in early childhood. My parents divorced when I was three—about the same time I developed asthma.

    The back and forth visits between my parents were hard on me. Just as I’d get comfortable in one place with one set of rules, it was time to change. I felt an internal struggle to be one Melissa in two different households.

    I was sick a lot as a child and was routinely hospitalized each year for my asthma. I also pretended to be sick at times to stay home because the transition back to school felt so overwhelming. Missing school only created more anxiety as I tried to catch up.

    To complicate matters, I grew up with a mom who could be very nurturing, but wildly unstable at times. Many of my fears and anxieties arose throughout my youth when my mom would spend months, sometimes years, in bed with some ambiguous illness no doctor could diagnose.

    I believe the peacemaker and people pleasing roles I often served in my family played a part in developing my highly sensitive and empathetic nature.

    Anxiety continued to visit me frequently throughout my youth and into adulthood as I contemplated my place in the world while healing past trauma.

    When I was in graduate school, I talked to my therapist about medication. I was grieving the sudden death of my mom and was in constant struggle with anxiety. While there are cases that necessitate medication, I chose to explore other routes.

    Today I still encounter feelings of self-doubt, abandonment, thoughts about death, my purpose, not fitting into the societal mold, and so forth. Some of these issues tie into what we might call existential anxiety, the anxiety that arises when we contemplate our life’s existence.

    What has helped me to understand anxiety’s true nature is to work with anxiety rather than against it. By working with anxiety, we can start to see the light in anxiety rather than a dark monster. These are the archetypes I have assigned to anxiety to reflect that light.

    1. Anxiety as Motivator.

    A few years ago I attended a workshop in Mexico City on existential psychotherapy. One of the key concepts in existentialism is that anxiety is a core human experience that moves us toward growth and development. Because we know our time is limited and we all grapple with big, unanswerable questions, we feel anxiety about existence itself, and about making our lives matter. This anxiety calls us to be ourselves and live with purpose as we examine our lives.

    Becoming a yoga instructor was one of the most terrifying times of my life. Despite years of public speaking and outreach as a social worker, finding my teaching voice was different. It was scary, as I doubted my capacity to bring a tradition I revered so much to others in a meaningful way.

    Now when I face anxiety before teaching, I ask it to help me tap into the human anguish that my students face in other ways to best support them. It fuels my purpose of sharing my own vulnerability from the heart.

    Some amount of anxiety is healthy and compels us to ask ourselves who we are, why we’re here, and where we’re going. Anxiety typically relates to these questions under the surface. The exception would be if we are talking about a specific fear, like spiders.

    There is a difference between existential anxiety (which calls us to live with meaning) and pathological forms of anxiety (which deeply impair our ability to function). When anxiety becomes a problem, it becomes a disorder; yet, the treatment (cognitive behavioral therapy, talk therapy, etc.) is typically the same.

    How does anxiety show up in your life as a motivator? Does it move you toward action?

    2. Anxiety as Teacher

    When I encounter pain, particularly as it relates to anxiety, grief, and family conflict, I try to remember to ask myself, “What is there to learn here?” By asking this question, I take myself out of the role of victim and into the role of an empowered learner.

    Because we see anxiety as a mental health problem, we forget that anxiety is not just living in the brain. It fills us with sensations and emotions in our bodies as our beliefs and old stories play out. Something is happening within us that is requesting our presence. Anxiety can help us to become more aware of what needs greater attention and love.

    As an empath, I am prone to absorbing the emotions of others. There are moments when I experience anguish because of a painful time someone else is having. My body tightens up and feels suffocated when this happens.

    When this occurs, I become more aware of what is happening and that I need to change something. It’s a cue to me that I need to do something with the suffering I’m feeling. It’s time to get on my yoga mat or go for a walk or maybe it’s a cue that I need to set boundaries in a relationship.

    How does anxiety show up in your life as a teacher? What do you learn from anguish?

    3. Anxiety as Liberator.

    Wait, what? That was my reaction when I wrote the word. Allow me to explain.

    As a society, we pathologize despair are taught anxiety is a sickness, which leads to us feeling bad about feeling bad. But since anxiety is a natural part of being human, it’s inevitable that it will surface. Even though I feel alone with anxiety sometimes, I try to remember I’m part of a collective experience of confusion, doubt, and suffering.

    Sometimes anxiety arrives in my life and I’m able to take a moment to realize its origin. I notice that behind that anxiety is often very deep compassion, very deep fear, very deep desire to be a better person, and so forth. I then can see anxiety as a very deep capacity to experience the spectrum of human emotions and allow them to coexist.

    Anxiety can either be avoided by living on the surface, as existential psychotherapist Emmy Van Deurzen puts it, or it can be deeply embraced as an inherent part of our being. If we choose to avoid it, it will smack us in the face later in life.

    When we can start to observe anxiety in this way, we start to see it for what it is. We see that joy and anguish can exist together. We can lean into it discomfort rather than avoid. And through this process, we can begin to feel a sense of freedom.

    What if anxiety is not something wrong with you but just part of the path?

    The ideas I outlined might take a little time to resonate. I encourage you to sit with them and feel into each archetype before reaching any conclusion.

    **I am not suggesting that reframing anxiety in this way can cure severe clinical disorders. My intention is provide a thought-provoking piece to explore as a complement to any professional treatment you may receive now or in the future.

    Color splash image by Signe7542

  • 7 Reasons to Abandon Your Comfort Zone and Why You’ll Never Regret It

    7 Reasons to Abandon Your Comfort Zone and Why You’ll Never Regret It

    “Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” ~Jack Canfield

    Imagine with me for a second. You wake up, roll over, and blindly reach to hit your alarm to start the routine of the day. Make the same thing for breakfast. Maybe go to a new coffee place…nah. Same place. Go to work on the same route to the same job you’ve been at for years.

    After a long day of struggling through your daily responsibilities, you come home tired and slink back into the comfort of your TV and couch. Watch the same shows. Pass out. Repeat. At long last, the respite of the weekend finally comes. You go to the same bars, and hang out with the same friends, and before you know it, it’s Sunday night. Time to repeat the whole process over again.

    Somehow down the road, you begin to feel like everything turned into too much of a routine. Nothing new happens anymore, and you can’t even remember the last time you really grew or progressed at something new—the last time you felt that burning sensation in your heart, that incomparable feeling of venturing into something new and scary.

    That was me.

    When I was a kid, I remember having this recurring nightmare. I was in prison, and my prison job was making license plates. That was my job for the rest of my life.

    I had to find every combination of letters and numbers, and if I ever made a mistake, I would have to start over. There was no goal. There was no challenge. Just repetition and routine. (There were a lot more intricate details, but I’ll probably just give myself anxiety trying to recall them).

    Anyway, I would wake up in a pool of sweat every night, wake my mom up, and tell her I was having the license plate dream again. She would just look at me like I was crazy; I don’t think I was very good at explaining why it freaked me out so much.

    I don’t think I knew why it freaked me out so much.

    Fast-forward a couple decades. I fell into a rut after a long period of falling into the same routines, day after day. Same jobs, long commute, long days, same weekends. It wasn’t even that I disliked my jobs—I worked in the music events and festivals industry. But my life had turned into such a routine, without challenges, without fear—just the same jobs, the same bars, the same everything, day after day.

    I woke up one day with a thought that scared the hello out of me—when did it all end? I didn’t even know what goal I was working toward. The license plate nightmare had manifested itself into real life.

    Dear God.

    That day, I quit both of my jobs and bought a one-way ticket to Southeast Asia. On this trip, I went through just as many cliché life realizations as the next traveler, but one stuck out far more than any other.

    The safety of my comfort zone was what was holding my growth and happiness back.

    I realized how crazy comfort—one of the biggest roadblocks to our growth—is something our bodies crave the most. However uncomfortable and unnatural it may feel to jump out of our safe zone, the benefits outweigh the initial discomfort drastically. It’s just hard to see the other side sometimes.

    Although the individual acts of leaving that safe space might vary from person to person—whether it’s quitting your dead-end job, traveling to a foreign place, finally talking to that person you’ve been too shy to engage, or simply diversifying your daily routine—I’m going to tell you some concrete reasons why leaving your comfort zone is so important for every person, and why you won’t regret it once you do.

    1. All development comes from outside your comfort zone, especially from failure.

    “We are all failures – at least the best of us are.” ~J.M. Barrie

    Let’s start with the basics. People tend to forget that struggle and discomfort are where all growth happens. Remember when you were a kid, and every single day was a challenge at something new? Your parents forced you to try scary new things you didn’t want to do, and either you succeeded or failed—and either way you were growing the entire time.

    Somewhere along the line, your parents stopped forcing you to do things, and your responsibilities added another layer of chaos into your life, forcing you to retreat into a comfortable routine to achieve a form of stability. In that process, many people start daring less to take a step outside of their comfort zone.

    Subconsciously, we attribute “learning” as a phase that only happens when we’re kids. That’s ridiculous. The learning process never ends, and there is always opportunity to grow, no matter what age you are or situation you’re in.

    We don’t like to try new things because we fear failure, but we need to understand that failure isn’t the end of the road, it’s the beginning. We learn and gain more from failure than we do from succeeding—and way more than if we never took the chance in the first place.

    Whether you succeed or fail at whatever you’re doing, it’ll be a hundred times more valuable to your growth than if you never took the chance in the first place.

    Whether it’s the soreness of your muscles after a long workout, the exhaustion of staying up all night chasing a goal, the fear of venturing into the unknown, or the feeling of failure, one old cliché always remains true: no pain no gain.

    Either you succeed and you grow or you fail and you grow, but trying anything is better than doing nothing.

    2. You’ll discover passions you never knew existed before.

    People often look for new hobbies that’ll fill their life with passion, but many are not only afraid to try new things, they don’t know where to look. They trudge through their daily routine, hoping something new will pop out of nowhere and save them from the repetition.

    Hey, sorry to break it to you, but it’s not going to happen. Nothing’s going to fall in your lap. You have to go find it.

    Not only will leaving your comfort zone help you take a crack at the things you’ve always wanted to do, but you’ll discover other things you never even knew you might’ve liked before.

    When I decided to quit my jobs and go on this trip to Southeast Asia, at one of my darker and lonelier moments (don’t ask), I found myself needing to write something, just to get some emotions off my chest. Little did I know I had just discovered my passion for writing.

    I started writing article after article, and decided to design a website to share them on. I started taking more and more pictures to combine with these articles, which even led to editing travel videos together.

    That’s four things, if you didn’t count. Four things I had never knew I had interest in before. All these newfound hobbies were borne from one thing that I discovered just moments after I left the comfort of my home.

    No matter how much you want to believe it, waiting around for something won’t get you anywhere, but the second you leave your comfort zone, you’d be surprised at how things just start falling into place.

    3. You’ll become more open-minded and understanding, making you appear wiser and more intelligent.

    Life is full of completely different and unique people, but when we get stuck in the same routine, we tend to gravitate toward people that are similar to us. When this is the only interaction in our lives, it leads us to become close-minded and cuts us off from the reality of the differences that exist between people.

    When you’re surrounded by the same people, who share the same opinions about everything, you gain a confirmation bias, and you start to think that a certain way of thinking is how all people think, or how all people should think. (Need an example? Go look at any political party ever.)

    Leaving the comfort of being surrounded by the people you are accustomed to will introduce you to different ways of thinking, which will not only lead to a better understanding of our differences, but an appreciation for them.

    This can be a whole different kind of uncomfortable, but the next time someone that has an opinion you disagree with, instead of immediately trying to convince them your side of the argument, try to understand why they came about that thinking in the first place.

    We all gather our opinions from a rich web of experiences and thousands of variables, yet sometimes we tend to think of other people’s opinions in black and white. Everyone has a reason for why they think the way they do, many of which are a lot deeper under the surface than you might be able to initially see.

    Opening your mind to other people’s cultural views and understanding what their ideologies are based out of (as opposed to just trying to confirm your already established beliefs) is the first step to gaining wisdom that applies to all people, rather than just the social group you’ve become accustomed to.

    4. You’ll gain clarity once you ditch mindless comfort-zone distractions.

    When we continue our routines and watch the same shows, go to the same places, or look at the same apps, we tend to turn our brains off and just follow muscle memory without even noticing. These routines make us feel comfortable and often put our minds to sleep.

    You’d be surprised at how much clearer your mind works once you simply turn your phone and TV off and go explore something new. Your brain will actually start going to work without you even trying.

    Something easy you can do today: Turn your phone off.

    Something harder you can aim for in the future: Turn your phone off for longer.

    5. You’ll become a more confident and sociable person.

    Talking to strangers is often an anxiety-provoking activity for people. We’re constantly fearing we’ll get judged or that we’ll say the wrong thing to the wrong person. First off, let me tell you, everyone feels the same way. That thought alone helped me become a more sociable person without worrying about the consequences of a “failed conversation” (sounds stupid when I put it like that, huh?).

    Interacting in situations with people you usually wouldn’t interact with is a great way to get out of your comfort zone. Go compliment someone you don’t know. What’s the worst that can happen?

    In a more non-direct approach, forget about other people for a second. When you spend your time trying new activities and experiencing things you haven’t done before, through the power of leaving your comfort zone, confidence eventually comes whether you were looking for it or not.

    The very act of being bold enough to try something you haven’t done before will raise your confidence on its own, and that in turn naturally minimizes the fear of interacting with people you don’t know.

    Confidence and social skills will be a byproduct of your breaking of the ordinary. Which leads to the next point…

    6. You’ll become a better storyteller without even trying.

    “No human ever became interesting by not failing. The more you fail and recover and improve, the better you are as a person. Ever meet someone who’s always had everything work out for them with zero struggle? They usually have the depth of a puddle. Or they don’t exist.” !Chris Hardwick

    Just as confidence and social skills come naturally when outside of your comfort zone, so will the stories. When you make a conscious attempt to leave your comfort zone, you’ll be surprised at how weird, crazy, and awesome things tend to happen more to you more.

    You’ll start amassing an inventory of interesting stories without even trying. All of your failures and successes somehow start to become more of a narrative, rather than a repetitive list of chores.

    Make your life a story that people would want to watch a movie about.

    7. You’ll discover entire worlds you never knew existed before and the communities that go along with them.

    Lastly, you’ll discover tons of different groups and cultures that will amaze you.

    Think about one thing you like to do. For instance, we’ll say you enjoy golf. Think about all the tiny intricacies, tactics, and elements of golf that make you love it so much, whether it’s the careful studying of equipment, the complexity of your body motion, the perfecting of a craft, or just the peace of enjoying a beautiful day. On top of that, think of the entire golfing community that you connect with because of a shared love of an activity.

    Now think about the fact that these passions and communities exist for an infinite amount of activities out there. Foodies for every kind of food. Music lovers of every genre. Fans of every sport. Professionals of every craft. Thousands of different cultures and communities that you have never experienced exist out there—all filled with people that possess as much love and passion for their craft as you do.

    Discovering and sharing new passions with people is one of the greatest joys in this world.

    The possibilities are endless. Go find some new worlds today.

    —

    Feeling like there is no end in sight can be one of the most suffocating feelings in the world. I know from experience that deep, sinking feeling you get in your chest when you realize your life has become too predictable—when nothing new happens, when you feel like you’ve stopped growing as a person.

    The good news is it’s completely in your power to take control of your life and experience what’s out there, and turn that suffocation into freedom, curiosity, and excitement.

    “The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.” ~Chauncey Depew

    Taking the first step is always the hardest, but I can guarantee you that once you do it, the only thought you’ll have in your head is “Why didn’t I do this earlier?” Every second you spend in this world is precious, and you shouldn’t waste a single second of it wondering if you should have done something. Life is waiting for you to take the reigns.

    Imagine with me again. You wake up five minutes before your alarm, with a head buzzing full of ideas, ready to conquer the day. You go to work with a clear mind, with new goals formulating in your head at what seems like every minute of the day.

    Before you know it, the workday has gone by in a snap, and you race home to start progressing to your next goal, or to write your next idea down, or to plan your next big getaway. Life has become exciting and full of wonder once again.

    No more license plates.

  • How to Keep Going When You Want To Give Up on Life

    How to Keep Going When You Want To Give Up on Life

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post references suicidal thoughts and may be triggering to some people.

    Since my first post on Tiny Buddha entitled “Why I Didn’t Kill Myself and Why You Shouldn’t Either,” I’ve been doing amazingly well. I thought I had this suicide stuff in the bag. I thought it lived in the past. I thought it was no longer a part of me.

    I thought I had found my way forward and that I would never feel that way again. I thought my suicidal ideation was a historical part of my existence.

    I was wrong.

    Tonight, I sat in the bath watching the water trickle down from the faucet and all I could think was how easy it would be to watch the blood trickle down my arms into the water instead.

    I thought of how easy it would be to drift away into nothingness. I thought of how easy it would be to not have to get up every morning to face another day of emptiness. I thought of the peace I would have if I were no longer afraid all the time and how wonderful it would be to be free from the prison of my mind.

    Sometimes, I long for this.

    Sometimes, I long for death.

    I do not long for death itself, being cold and distant and immovable.

    But I sometimes long for something other than what I am. I long for a feeling of safety and security. I long to feel loved and cherished, not used and abused.

    I long to feel anything that is something more than the nothing I feel right now.

    What Do You Want?

    I know what you want. I want it too. You want someone to love you, someone to care, someone to tell you everything will be okay.

    You want someone to tell you that even if you aren’t perfect, you’re enough just as you are.

    You want your parents to put your needs ahead of their own, because that’s what loving parents do. You want those adults who abused you to think twice before they steal your innocence and your ability to feel.

    What you want is for the past to never have existed, and what you want is impossible.

    I know what you want.

    You want someone to care, and it seems as if there is no amount of caring that will fill the empty hole in your heart, and no matter how hard you try to fill it up yourself it only goes halfway and then starts slipping back to empty.

    Every day is a struggle to survive. Every day you wake up and wonder, “How much longer can I go on?”

    The emptiness that fills your heart and your soul begins to take over your rationality.

    At some point the things that kept you going have become meaningless. The life you have lived for so many years was just a struggle to survive.

    Today you are at a point where nothing means anything. You aren’t even in pain. You feel nothing. You want to give up. You want to no longer exist. You want to stop being.

    The endless negative thoughts swirl around in your brain compelling you to end everything. The hope for the future subsides to a dulling ache keeping you going every day.

    You stare at the television knowing you are wasting your life, but are incapable to get off the couch and get outside.

    Yet, you keep going. Why is this?

    Why You Shouldn’t Give Up

    I don’t know why I don’t give up sometimes. Most days I want to give up. But the human spirit is powerful. The desire to live is a strongly held need that keeps you in this world.

    There is only one reason I don’t give up.

    There is only one reason I don’t spend all my money, write out my will, and deliberately plan my death.

    There is only one belief that sits in the back of my mind that keeps me going day after day.

    What is that belief you ask?

    Hope.

    There is always something that I hope for. I hope for change. I hope for strength. I hope for love. I hope for caring. I hope that things won’t always be as they have been.

    Hope, my friends, is the only thing keeping me, and probably you, alive.

    What does hope mean? To me hope means not giving up. It means constantly seeking a new way. It means looking deep inside to find what exactly it is that seems lacking.

    What About Now?

    I can’t promise you things will change tomorrow.

    I can’t promise you that your self-serving parents will suddenly see the light and give you what you need.

    I can’t promise you that you will stop choosing the wrong partner or that magically things will be better.

    There are so many days when I believe that all is lost and want to give up, and I don’t know why I feel this way. I feel stupid for not being happy for what I have.

    I want to be enough.

    I want to feel enough.

    I want to thrive, not just survive.

    So, for now I make it through the day. For now, I do the best I can do. I wake up every day and realize I need to change something and I realize that at some point it will change.

    That, my friend, is enough. Believing that something will change is sometimes enough.

    Because, “This too shall pass.”

    Because There Is Always Tomorrow

    How do I know “this too shall pass”? I know because feelings and circumstances always change. Change is the nature of life.

    The day after I wrote this and while I was going through the editing process I called my doctor to see if maybe it’s time to get back on some medication. I was feeling despondent and knew something needed to change. Of course, they couldn’t get me in for another month.

    So, where could I go? What else could I do? My answer to myself: search Google, of course. I started looking up a bunch of topics that I needed to work on that were related to relationships, love, and happiness.

    I came across a relationship coach who seemed to get exactly what it was that I needed at the moment. I watched a series of videos. Although I had heard all the things he spoke of before, for some reason everything resonated more deeply than usual.

    I needed someone who would not just tell me that I am enough (intellectually I know this) but would give me the tools to help me believe that I am enough and keep me from falling back into the abyss of negative thinking that I tend to fall into.

    When we are ready to hear, the message comes.

    I booked a session with him and when we spoke everything became clear. I finally grasped the complex nature of how one can go through life without loving and accepting one’s self and how your fears can limit your existence.

    You may not realize it, but you may actually fear being happy and you may keep thinking negative thoughts as a means to protect yourself. I realized that I had to stop my negative thinking and that no one can make me feel whole and loved and valued if I don’t truly love and value myself.

    I realized I am still looking for someone to save me or for someone to validate me so I can feel whole, and guess what? It stops today.

    I just decided. I decided that it was time to show up for myself fully and completely and stop delegating away my needs for others to fill like an empty vessel.

    If you don’t give up hope and keep looking for help and reaching out to others, you will eventually find the people, tools, and resources that you need to heal.

    I do it over and over and I’ll do it again. If I can do it, so can you.

  • How Feeling Shame Freed Me from Suffering

    How Feeling Shame Freed Me from Suffering

    “Be gentle first with yourself if you wish to be gentle with others.” ~Lama Yeshe

    It was October, 2012. The U.S. Presidential Election was around the corner. I was paying an unaccustomed amount of attention to political news on TV and to political discussion sites online. At one site in particular, I was eager to become part of the community, to make a good impression, to build a reputation.

    To put it mildly, that didn’t work out well.

    One evening I was watching an interview with a politician whose name I recognized, but I didn’t know much about him. I thought he was making some cogent points about the topic at hand. I went to the online discussion site to see whether anyone had mentioned this interview yet, and when I found no one had, I hastily composed a post praising the politician and suggesting that others should watch the interview.

    The reaction was fast and fierce. How could I have anything nice to say about this nincompoop, who was renowned far and wide as a hypocrite? Where was my sense? Where were my ideals? Where was my head? What did I think I was doing there in the first place?

    I was mortified. I, who had always prided myself on intellectual acumen, had totally failed to do my homework. I hadn’t done even the most cursory research to learn anything about the politician’s history.

    I felt I’d made an ass of myself. I was so ashamed that I didn’t even visit the site for weeks. I was genuinely in pain.

    Now I’m going to have to briefly flash back in time so the next part of the story will make sense.

    At that time, in 2012, it had been almost ten years since a beloved spiritual teacher had died. I had shut down my spiritual life to a great extent after his death. You might say it was a long freeze. Or maybe “fallow period” would be a better description. Later events would make that seem like a good way to look at it.

    While I was ashamed and hurting in the aftermath of my online blunder, I recalled something I’d heard my teacher say more than once, something like this: “When you see a tack on your chair, sit on it.”

    That may sound enigmatic, but I think the metaphor is straightforward. What it meant to me, anyway, was that we should not flee from fully allowing an experience that might impart an important point. We should sit on the point, not avoid it.

    I made a vow then. I promised myself I wouldn’t avoid my intense sense of shame. I wouldn’t brush it under the rug. I wouldn’t cover it or deflect it with distractions, entertainments, excuses, or rationalizations. I would experience it fully, let it do its work, and see what happened.

    I’m not pretending that I had any specific practice beyond that. I’ve since learned some that I’ll mention a little later. But at the time, I simply stuck to my vow. Whenever the feeling of shame came to visit, I didn’t shoo it away or distract myself. I allowed myself to experience it.

    It’s not even that I was inclined to turn toward TV or eating or any other concrete distraction. What I mean by “distract myself” is subtler. It’s a small mental move of avoidance, of turning the attention away from something uncomfortable. Its opposite is mindful awareness, facing experience head-on come what may.

    Everything began to change within a few weeks. There was no one moment when the painful sense of shame evaporated, leaving nothing but clarity and peace. No, it happened gradually over a period of weeks. Each time I welcomed shame as a visitor, it lost some of its sting.

    What finally became of it? All I can say is it was transmuted. It dissolved, and in its place arose a sense of peace and a new, calm engagement with the truth of being.

    I recognized that whatever arises in experience is always already present by the time we can react. Whether it’s comfort or discomfort, joy or distress, calm or chaos, it can be witnessed with equanimity.

    I began to notice old friends posting on Facebook about spiritual teachers and teachings they liked. I looked into some of them and found I liked them too. The long freeze had given way to a thaw. The fallow period was coming to an end. I felt a sense of regeneration, of reawakening.

    How does this work? If it seems counterintuitive to you that diving into pain is a good idea, that amplifying discomfort can be helpful, consider this simple question: What are we doing when we feel that we’re suffering? In other words, what mental activity are we engaging?

    It seems to me that above all else, the answer is we’re actively refusing ourselves compassion. When faced with discomfort or pain, we try to resist it or deny it. We’re judging ourselves, chastising ourselves for the feelings that arise spontaneously. Most of us wouldn’t do it to another, certainly not to a loved one, yet we do it to ourselves. That’s the suffering right there.

    In this instance, the active mechanism was a kind of a thought loop. It went something like this:

    • That was really stupid, what I did.
    • How could I be so dumb? I’m smart, not dumb!
    • I humiliated myself in public.
    • I can never show my face there again.
    • (Repeat forever.)

    Each of those thoughts reinforces a sense of emotional pain, of suffering. They whirl around and seem to amplify each other. It feels as if there’s no way out. I kept beating myself up.

    That’s exactly what it was. I was beating myself up. I was pummeling myself with those ideas. I was treating myself entirely without compassion and empathy, as if I hated myself, and I didn’t seem to know how to stop.

    Notice that by this point the nature of the original mistake didn’t matter. It could have been as trivial as cursing out loud or as serious as committing a felony. The thought loop of suffering was running obsessively on its own momentum. It was no longer about the original offense. It was self-sustaining.

    It reminds me of an experience years ago. When I was a teenager, I was admitted to the hospital for an appendectomy. In the recovery room, as I slowly emerged from the anesthetic fog, the room seemed filled with loud screams. I barely had time to wonder what they were about when I noticed that I was the one who was screaming! I stopped immediately. There was pain, yes, but no need to make it worse by screaming.

    It’s an imperfect analogy, but I see a significant parallel: I had to notice the self-defeating action before I could stop it. In the instance of my shame it happened that by keeping my promise, by sitting on the tack, by diving into the pain, somehow I created a space where I had an opportunity to notice what I was doing and to stop it, gradually. I began to see an opportunity to embrace myself with kindness and compassion, and I took it.

    Practices

    As I mentioned, I’ve learned some specific practices to take advantage of the opportunity, to enhance and deepen the process.

    Metta (lovingkindess) meditation

    I find that this traditional meditation opens the heart and helps to cultivate compassion towards oneself and others. My version begins with visualizing the warmth and love I feel when seeing or meeting a loved one. It could be a spouse, child, parent, dear friend, or even a beloved pet. Then I say to myself:

    • May they be safe from harm.
    • May they be truly happy.
    • May they be free from suffering.
    • May they be loved.

    Then I picture myself at my most open and vulnerable, when I’m hurting and in need of that same love and compassion. And I say to myself:

    • May I be safe from harm.
    • May I be truly happy.
    • May I be free from suffering.
    • May I be loved.

    I can then extend that to my circle of friends, to the planet, and to all sentient beings everywhere. Practicing this regularly deeply affects the feeling nature.

    Ho’oponopono

    Based on a traditional Hawaiian practice for community healing, the modernized version I use resembles a variation I heard from Scott Kiloby. Here’s how I engage it:

    • When I notice a feeling that seems distressful, first I simply sit quietly with it, acknowledging it and allowing myself to feel it.
    • I ask for the stories surrounding the feeling to reveal themselves, and I allow hearing the stories to intensify the feeling. The thought loop I mentioned is a perfect example of those stories.
    • I dive into the feeling with naive curiosity, looking to sense all its aspects. I’m not trying to soften it or push it away, but at this stage it may begin to soften.
    • I say to the feeling: “I love you. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” The important thing is that I have to mean it. I have to be prepared to live with it indefinitely, to welcome it indefinitely. After all, it’s part of me. It is me.

    In retrospect, what I did by sitting on the tack of shame was closest to practicing Ho’oponopono.

    For me, the whole experience emphasizes how important it is to include the heart in our practice, in our lives. When we find ourselves relying on mental analysis, it’s often judgmental and hurtful, especially to ourselves.

    Both aspects can be useful, but the heart never judges, never condemns, never excludes. It knows how to heal us and make us whole.

  • How We Can Break the Cycle of Pain

    How We Can Break the Cycle of Pain

    “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” ~Gandhi

    Pain is and isn’t just like energy. According to the first law of thermodynamics, energy can neither be created nor destroyed but is merely converted from one form to another.

    For example, the light energy from the sun can be harnessed by plants, which, through photosynthesis, convert it to chemical energy. Plants use this energy to grow fruit, which we eat. We store this energy for when we need to exert ourselves, when we convert it to kinetic energy. The energy never disappears but is instead just displaced.

    Pain is in a sense the same, creating a parallel to the first law of thermodynamics, which I call the cycle of pain.

    The manager is belittled by his boss because the boss was frustrated with the latest quarterly results, which disappointed because the customers were unhappy with the product. Upset, the manager comes home and mouths off to his wife, who is carrying her own tribulations from work.

    The wife and mother then loses her temper with her son, who is hurt by his mother’s outburst. In pain and having witnessed a bad example from his mother about what to do with frustration, the son then goes to school the next day and causes a fight in the classroom during the teacher’s lesson.

    His plans in tatters with the class disrupted, the teacher then exacts collective punishment on the whole class, who then each go and act out the negativity in their own separate ways.

    The form of the pain changes, but it doesn’t go away—it’s spread out and perpetrated on new victims in a seemingly endless cycle of pain.

    Except it can go away. After all, pain differs from energy in some important ways.

    First of all, pain can be created, added to, and multiplied or increased exponentially.

    Above, the frustration that the teacher caused can turn into sadness, hurt, or anger among his thirty pupils, who then have a negative emotional-energetic push to transfer and potentially increase the pain.

    More and more people are born and live longer each day, meaning there are more egos to feel and create pain. The internet and other mass communication technologies only expand each single person’s ability to transfer and create more and more pain in more and more people. Weapons of mass destruction have the same function. This is a depressing picture.

    The story, however, isn’t all bad, and as conscious human beings, we can actively work to stop the flow and creation of pain.

    When the husband comes home to vent at his wife, the wife can always ask what the matter is, listen compassionately, and react with love and a desire to help ease the pain.

    When the child acts out in school, the teacher can always take a deep breath, draw upon her compassion for whatever is driving an innocent child to be aggressive, pull the child aside, and try and find out what’s wrong.

    We can all recognize that another person’s negativity is his or her pain, not ours.

    This is very simple to comprehend but extremely difficult to achieve. It takes a lot of effort.

    Put yourself right in the moment of a very tense or stressful situation. Your boss has had a stressful week and is screaming at you, blaming you for the entire team’s failure or something that had nothing to do with you. Your mother always favored your older brother and is interrogating you, asking why you didn’t get married and have the perfect job like he did. Pick a real example from your own life.

    How did you react—with total serenity and compassion? Did you lovingly embrace this as a spiritual challenge and opportunity for growth? In all likelihood, far from it!

    You probably shouted back, clamped down, cried, or otherwise reacted to negativity with negativity, and this in turn negatively affected someone else. Why? Because this is hard—really hard. And yet, it’s the struggle we, as human beings, face every day.

    However, when we sit around and think about being our best, about trying to make a difference in the world, we think about legendary figures placed in the fulcrum of historic events. We think about Gandhi or Martin Luther King Jr. or Mother Teresa. Saving the rain forest, ending poverty, or finding a cure for some horrible disease come to mind.

    In fact, very few people will ever even have the chance to be in the right place at the right time to make such a difference. Even if we had the skills and desire, we might not have the resources or connections, or even be born in the right era, to effect such a change.

    By definition, not everyone can accomplish extraordinary things. The rain forest needs saving, poverty needs ending, and diseases need curing, but why not start with what you can influence right now—the world’s little daily hurts that, through the cycle of pain, create big problems?

    But this is our bias, made dramatically worse in recent years by social media: to overlook or even look down upon the ordinary. And yet, it is the ordinary, everyday flow of life that is so difficult to navigate in a way that does no harm to ourselves or others. Indeed, daily life presents our most obvious opportunity to change the world around us—to end the cycle of pain.

    Imagine a world where parents didn’t smack or shout at their children out of anger, where spouses didn’t take their work frustrations home and get passive aggressive with each other, where strangers didn’t project their pent-up feelings onto each other.

    Imagine all of the infinite little tragedies that could be avoided. Imagine the child who, in a moment of despair, sees a helping hand instead of a fist. Think of what a different place the world would be if one million or one billion people had this same thought all at once.

    I, too, once had a head full of grandiosity, all the while overlooking the difference I could make each and every day.

    Growing up in an affluent suburb of New York, I was raised like most of the other kids in my peer group—to be hyper-competitive and keep up with the Joneses. I wanted to be a famous academic, a CEO, or the president. I thought about ending wars, saving the environment, and changing the economy.

    I was also short on patience. I punched back. I showed off. I overlooked people. It was only after I was brought so low by pain, when I saw no way forward, that I dropped my illusions and really thought about how to move forward in the world. When I felt there was no hope, I stopped contemplating the horizon and instead looked right in front of me.

    For maybe the first time, I really saw the people who came into my life and got to know so well who had wronged me, betrayed me. Rather than cursing them or begrudging them, I thought about how they got the way they were—their being bullied or even molested as children or abandoned as adults (true stories!).

    I thought about myself, put upon by my siblings and ignored by my parents. And I realized what a difference it would have made if even some minor character in any of these stories would have taken the initiative to break that cycle of pain.

    Everything that happens in life is the result of an unknowable series of chance events that happened over centuries. You are here right now because some peasant in the fields a thousand years ago smiled at one of his fellow laborers or some seamstress took the risk of getting on a ship bound for America or someone crossing the street didn’t get hit by a car.

    Likewise, the gang member might not be in jail if that teacher had taken a chance on him. The cheerleader might not be bulimic if someone had taken the time to notice her eating habits or cared enough to say anything.

    Even when we aren’t causing it, so many of us shut our eyes and turn our heads to other people’s pain because we’ve been hurt ourselves and don’t want to face more pain if we can avoid it.

    To come to and maintain the level of consciousness necessary to actively counter the cycle of pain requires a spiritual vigilance that is profound and yet so simple. To break and not perpetuate the cycle of pain, to purify and not pollute our emotional environment, is so mundane but can be so impactful. To me, this is what it means to be the change I wish to see in the world.

    Once I recovered from the deep, crushing, suicidal depression that I suffered, I left my high-flying job. I moved countries. I extricated myself from destructive relationships. Coming from a life in which I interacted with senior politicians and CEOs, I instead dabbled in coaching and tutoring and other endeavors I saw as making a small difference. I slowed down and, instead of chasing grand visions, became much more conscious of what I was doing each moment.

    This was a difficult transition to make, and it is a challenge each day to remember the cycle of pain and my role in it and, more importantly, not to perpetuate it. Nevertheless, I find life so much more rewarding now. Though my path is littered with mistakes and small failings, most days I am able to see the incremental positive differences that I make.

    I don’t know what all of this will amount to, but what I do know is that I feel so much more rewarded and empowered.

  • Quit Trying to Be Perfect (You Already Are)

    Quit Trying to Be Perfect (You Already Are)

    “Perfectionism doesn’t make you feel perfect. It makes you feel inadequate.” ~Maria Shriver

    Like many of us, I spent a big part of growing up feeling like I wasn’t enough. I was quite a studious kid, and this coupled with being terrible at sports and also quite chubby meant I was a bit of a target. Indeed, when your first and last names both rhyme with “fat” it’s pretty easy for bullies with even limited wordsmith skills to come up with insults.

    And it’s easy to say what words can’t hurt and that it says more about them than it did me. Yet, what it did mean for a long time was that I felt a lack of acceptance from my peers. And this does hurt. I don’t for a second think I’m alone with this either.

    No matter who you are there’s times growing up when you want nothing more than acceptance.

    Because here’s the thing: This need for acceptance, it’s a natural human tendency.

    As we grow we try to fit into the world as best we can. We yearn to be grounded in who we are, so we fall into the trap of defining ourselves by what others say about us. As a result, over time, we become conditioned to believe that the world outside us is somehow responsible for our happiness and well-being. We look at our jobs, our partners, what we believe other people think of us—and we decide that we are lacking.

    This was certainly true for me for a good number of years until I became a teenager, when I lost weight and started to feel stronger and happier about myself. Finally those feelings of not being enough were gone. Or so I thought.

    Because what I realize now is that they too had grown up. And what was once naïve insecurity had twisted and mutated into an adult need for perfection and control. As I’ve come to terms with this recently it’s opened up a whole range of emotions and new insights for me.

    It’s dawned on me how much I’ve been hiding and pretending these past few years, and I’m ready now to move past that.

    This was highlighted recently for me when I found a poem I wrote when I was younger titled: If I was David Bowie I wouldn’t have had my teeth done.

    And I really meant it too. Because the thing is, I’ve always liked things a little edgy, a little earthy and real. I grew up listening to Nirvana and Guns n Roses and The Stones. I spent my twenties obsessed with the Beats and Bukowski. So, the idea of being overly polished and shiny-teethed wasn’t something that ever really appealed to me.

    Yet, next month I finish off a two-year course of Invisalign, which has made my teeth all straight and nice, and ends in a treatment to make them all white too!

    You see, something changed a few years ago and it’s only now that I’m really seeing it fully. Somewhere along my journey I reverted back to acting from fear rather than love. I stopped enjoying my imperfections and had begun striving for an outward ideal of perfection.

    What I thought was me having it all figured out was actually just me getting a whole lot better at tricking myself.

    You see, despite having lots of interests and passions in my life—and being pretty motivated and focused for most of the time—there always came a point when I stopped enjoying what I was doing. The lightness and joy of creativity got overtaken by struggle and perfectionism.

    As I went forward with a vision, I began comparing myself to others; looking for acceptance externally, to the point where I ended up second-guessing myself and eventually giving in and moving on.

    This is something I’ve only recently realized. The pattern seems to go that whenever I’m operating from fear I revert to hiding behind a shield of faux-perfection. I feel I’m not enough, so I act out, trying to go the other way—to counter the feelings; to try and kid myself, as much as the world, that I’m flawless.

    And I think this is where a lot of us can struggle. We feel we have to be more than who we are.

    We want to fit in. So we bend to what we think others want us to be like. But I see now that trying to seek acceptance from outside of myself is a path to nowhere good.

    I believe now that this is one of the main issues that can hold us all back if we aren’t aware of it. Comparing ourselves to other people makes us fearful of being who we really are. But when we aren’t us, who are we? Who are we looking for when we try and be anything other than who we really are?

    When we put this barrier of desired perfection between us and the world, it stops deep connections being formed.

    It stops us from being as authentic and open and grounded as we could be. Yet when we accept ourselves whole-heartedly, with all our foibles and vulnerabilities, we give ourselves and others permission to grow and create without limitations.

    Because we’re not here to try for perfection. Doing so it implies there is a goal to reach, an ideal to master. But what if we knew that who we are is already perfect? What if we were all able to step back and see that striving for acceptance is only taking us further away from ourselves?

    In this surrender we are allowed the freedom to connect to a deeper, more pure perfection that is always there.

    It is beyond the intellect, the personality, and the mind. It’s an inner sense of knowing, which only comes once you’ve realized that who you really are exists before all your thoughts, beliefs, stories, and insecurities.

    And that person is always completely perfect.

    Because I know I’m intelligent, I know I’m empathetic, caring, a good listener, and I have really great imagination. I’m fantastic at lighting fires under others, helping them see how special they are and how things that might seem impossible are actually really achievable.

    But… I’m also clumsy, self-conscious, introverted, sarcastic, messy, and grumpy sometimes. I can procrastinate for days, I skip meditating some mornings to watch the cookery channel, I can be argumentative and downright silly when I want to be. I read a lot of pretty deep books but I watch quite a lot of lowbrow TV too, and I really enjoy it. But that’s okay. I don’t have to be a constructed ideal of ‘perfect.’ None of us do.

    Because the thing is, when we compare ourselves to others and seek external validation we exist in a perpetual state of need.

    But once you see yourself from an infinite perspective and don’t need to win people’s acceptance, you can be kinder and gentler toward yourself.

    There is only ever going to be one you. Ever. There is only one you that has ever existed in this entire universe. Right now you are absolutely perfect at being you. No one can think like you, create like you, love like you.

    That thing you do that you keep hidden? That’s perfectly you. That weird sneeze that you do that makes you feel a little silly? Embrace that like crazy. That’s perfectly you. No one does that but you.

    When you seek acceptance, when you try for perfection, when you aim for external validation, all you’re really doing is playing it safe. You’re fitting into someone else’s ideal. Or worse and more likely, you’re fitting into a societal average of what perfection is, watered down, anodyne, overly safe.

    So what would it take for you to throw off the need for acceptance and perfection and just be you—playful, silly, messy, lovable, perfect?

    Don’t you owe it to yourself to eschew external validation and only look for your validation within?

    Your experience of life is always created inside of you. Yet because of the way our minds work we often make ‘things’ out of our thoughts. Suddenly something someone said to us becomes a real ‘thing’ we feel we have to deal with and obsess over. But it was only ever a thing because you made it a thing. And just like that you can let it go too.

    You have ultimate power over what you create in the world.

    But the caveat is you can only wield this power if you are living in the real world. In a place where you have impact and where you can take action. Spending too long looking for made up perfection outside of yourself will stop you from being all you can be.

    I also know that just because I’ve had this insight doesn’t mean I’m any more sorted either. I’ll still get caught up in the outside-in misunderstanding on a regular basis. Just like we all will. I’ll still get envious and impatient and blame external things for my ‘lack.’ I’ll still seek acceptance from others.

    Yet I also know I’ll be able drop out of this habitual, insecure thinking a whole lot quicker and connect back with my innate creativity and resilience. I hope reading this will help you do the same.

    Because it’s all part of the game, all part of the dance. And I don’t regret any of it, least of all getting my teeth done. In fact, I love them. What I once described as a “row of wonky tic tacs” now looks pretty good.

    But really what I like about them most is I feel like I’m smiling a lot more now. And maybe it’s the teeth, but maybe also its because I’m enjoying myself again, maybe it’s because I feel I am allowing ‘me’ to show and I’m becoming more connected to who I really am, imperfections and all.

    So stop trying for perfection and relax in the knowledge that when you stop trying you’ll quickly connect back to who you really are. Someone who is already perfect at being you. And that will never change.

  • How Expectations Can Drive People Away and How to Let Go of Control

    How Expectations Can Drive People Away and How to Let Go of Control

    “I’m not in this world to live up to your expectations and you’re not in this world to live up to mine.” ~Friedrich Salomon Perls

    About five years ago, I had a falling out with a close friend. I was irritated because she didn’t do the things I thought she should and she didn’t give as much as I did. I felt I had been very generous with her, and I expected her to do the same. I felt she owed me.

    My anger became unmanageable and started seeping into pretty much every interaction we had. She began cancelling dinner plans and camping trips. She wouldn’t call me back after days of me leaving a message. It happened out of nowhere, and of course everything was her fault.

    Except that it didn’t. And it wasn’t.

    Not too long ago, I was a bit of a control freak. I didn’t know it, of course, and I would have described myself as open-minded and easy going. In reality, I was tormented by my own expectations.

    Since I was a child, I had an image in my head about who I was supposed to be. What my family was supposed to look like. What house I was supposed to live in. What career success was supposed to mean. That’s a lot of supposing! I had always assumed these expectations were my future.

    I am an artist by trade, and in my art studio, I have many tools. Paintbrushes, sanders, stencil cutters, and paper punches fill shelves up to the ceiling. However, I tell people that the most important tools I use are flexibility of mind and a practice of not having expectations as to the outcome. This allows new and amazing techniques to be discovered and yields paintings that continuously surprise and delight me. I find these tools are useful outside of the art studio as well.

    As time went on and distance grew between me and my friend, I began to feel enraged by her apparent apathy toward me and everything that I “had done for her.”

    I thought to myself, “I would never treat anyone that way. How dare she do that to me?” and “After all I’ve given her, she should want to give back!” Every thought I had praised me for all the good deeds I had done and blamed her for ruining our friendship. I was the victim and she was the wrong doer.

    One day, I sat down to enlighten her about how she had negatively impacted our relationship. Her reaction was horrifying to me. She said she was going to take a step back from our friendship.

    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I mean, I was telling her how she could singlehandedly improve things. What was wrong with her that she didn’t understand that? We stopped speaking and I didn’t see her for a long time.

    Then something life changing happened—sobriety. In the first year after I quit drinking, I learned a lot about myself and my need to control just about everything in order to meet my expectations.

    I learned how my expectations of others (unexpressed, by the way, because “I shouldn’t have to say it!”) and the anger that followed when people didn’t act the way I thought they should, actually drove people away.

    The entire time our friendship was breaking down, I thought that if she would just do the things I wanted her to do, not only would our friendship be fixed, but everyone involved would be better off. I knew better than she did. My way of living was better than hers. She, of course, ran away from me like I was on fire.

    My need to control others was unfounded, unrealistic, and unattainable. It was a hard thing to admit that my way wasn’t better than her way and, in fact, people weren’t abandoning me. I was driving them to leave. I saw that other relationships in my life were also going down this path. I had to change.

    One day after surfing, I went to sit on a bench overlooking the water. One of the “old guys” we surfed with, who lived across the street, came and talked with me as the sun was setting over the ocean and I was lamenting about the stresses in my life. He said one of the most important things anyone has ever said to me: “I don’t do stress. Stress is optional.”

    WTF? How on earth does one not get stressed? Teach me, Oh Wise One. I thought deeply about this and about my issues with expectations and control. I needed control in order to meet my own expectations. When those expectations were not met, anxiety, anger and depression followed. Where does stress fit in?

    The stress comes from trying to control actions that I think can bring my expectations to fruition. Have you ever seen the YouTube video of the zoo keeper trying to take a photo of all the baby pandas together? He expected a cute shot. All he got is a video of him trying to put baby pandas in a line, as one by one they continuously wandered off.

    I know that’s kind of a cut and dry example, and life isn’t always cut and dry. However, the primary reason that I would get so pissed when my expectations were not met is rather simple: “My way is superior to everyone else’s way. How can people be so stupid and disrespectful?”

    I don’t want to be an angry person. I don’t want to be unhappy with the people in my life. At some point, I realized that all of the control I was attempting to put on others was really me trying to make others meet my own expectations. That doesn’t work. Like ever. And it creates a huge amount of stress and frustration akin to trying keep baby pandas in line.

    The real questions are: Who do I think I am? Why do I think I can control anything? What does it really matter if people are late, or my flight is cancelled, or my hat got lost when it flew off the top of the car.

    Do these things affect my life? Sure, they can. Is it worth having an explosive hissy fit and making myself and everyone around me miserable? Uh, that would be a no. (Embarrassingly, the loss of that damn hat came close to ruining our evening.)

    Advice from an Artist—Three Ways to Let Go:

    1. Have zero expectations about how anything is going to turn out in the end.

    It’s easier said than done, but if I went into the art studio expecting a certain painting to be created, I would be disappointed all the time. It’s so much easier to have an open mind and go with the flow.

    This is also true when it comes to other people. By accepting the fact that people are not predictable, I am not attached to outcomes about how they “should” be.

     2. Stop trying to control everything.

    My passion is creating, but I can’t always get in the studio to paint. And guess what? I don’t pitch a fit. I simply do what needs to be done to continue on.

    For whatever reason, this is easy for me to apply to my business, and harder to apply to situations that involve people. I have to peel my fingers from the white-knuckle grip they have on how people should be and be okay with the possibility of “my way” not being an option. Perhaps somebody else has an awesome way I’ve never even thought of.

    3. Be flexible and don’t be attached to outcomes.

    I choose to open my mind to all the possibilities. In the studio, experimentation and the ability to adjust comes very easily. In life, not so much. Last minute changes in dinner plans aren’t going to kill me. When someone is “inconveniencing” me by wanting to meet at 8:00 instead of 6:30 I don’t get pissed anymore. I go for a hike because now I have time to.

    Does that sound too simple? I don’t think it is.

    My old friend and I have begun to repair our friendship. She moved away and I miss her dearly. We have talked about the past, but not in great detail. I try to show her that my thinking has changed and I don’t want anything from her but her friendship. It’s a hard thing to repair when you live far away but it’s mending little by little.

    I no longer expect her or anyone to think like me. When I start feeling superior, I have to remember that I’m no better and no worse than any other person on the planet. I hope she forgives her wayward friend. At the time, I really thought that I was doing her a favor by showing her a better way to live. It was hard to realize that my ego was running the show.

    When I’m working on a painting and I make a mark that I didn’t intend to, I don’t look at it as a “mistake.” I look at it as an opportunity to go down a road I may not have seen had it not been for that out of place mark. This is how I strive to live my life now. When a monkey wrench is thrown in, I put it in my back pocket figuring that a wrench may come in handy at some point.

    And if it doesn’t, that’s okay. Just as with my art, I choose to live open-minded to all experiences. Also, just like my paintings, life isn’t only made up of straight lines. There are twists, turns, and interruptions. The question I must ask myself is, do I want to put up a fight whenever something unexpected happens, or go with the flow and gracefully see where this new road leads?

    We can’t control other people and situations. But we can choose to set expectations aside and not put so much emphasis on how things are going to end up. After all, it truly is about the journey. And the destination? Well, sometimes the most beautiful views are the ones that we stumble upon unexpectedly, while on the way to where we’re “supposed” to be.

  • License to Hurt: What We Really Need When We’re in Pain

    License to Hurt: What We Really Need When We’re in Pain

    “We’ll light the candle together when she’s ready. For now I’ll trust the darkness for us both.” ~Terri St. Cloud

    Over breakfast one morning recently, Jeff and I started reminiscing about past years, and something was said that brought back a painful memory for me. My boss at the time had been unimaginably small-minded. He had hung me out to dry. “I still can’t understand why he did that,” I said.

    Jeff looked at me levelly. “You need to get over it, Jan,” he said. “It was years ago.”

    Wise advice, without question. The only problem was that I didn’t want it just then.

    Why is it that we are so seldom allowed a few moments just to hurt? After a serious heartbreak like the death of a loved one, sure, we’re given all the leeway we need. But the run-of-the-mill slights and small, persistent sorrows are treated as something we should quickly move past, even when they’re deeply painful.

    Jeff, poor guy, was just trying to help. I couldn’t fault him. I knew I was being a bit ridiculous. But what I longed for was someone to acknowledge my outrage, let me sit with it, live into it for a few moments—and then gently remind me that it’s time to get over it.

    A few hours later, after I’d licked my wounds and was feeling better, I began to wonder: Might I also be failing to honor the sorrows of others?

    Everything I’ve learned in the past eight years, since the death of our son, has pointed me to the same lesson: The most important thing we can give each other in times of pain is compassion, a simple, “Oh, I bet that’s really hard.” We should offer that before—or instead of—advice on how to cope.

    Even worse are the times when we immediately turn the conversation to ourselves: “I know just what you mean. I’m going through something like that too.”

    I catch myself doing this way too often. My intent is to signal to the person that we’re partners in pain and can support each other. But the comment shifts the focus away from my companion’s heartache to mine.

    Or we may inadvertently belittle our friend’s sorrow with stories of how we’ve overcome the same challenge.

    Recently I overheard a conversation between two elderly women. One was talking about how emotionally wrenching she was finding it to give up her home and move to a retirement facility.

    “Oh, you won’t miss it a bit once you get settled,” the other woman said.

    She had already been through the experience and knew without question what lay ahead. I wanted to break in and hug the first woman. When we are in pain, the last thing we need is someone who knows without question what lies ahead.

    Many of us find it deeply uncomfortable to be in the presence of suffering. And no wonder. We live in a culture where we’re taught from childhood to hide our hurts, to buck up and get over them. We don’t want to display them, and we don’t want to see them in others. Yet unspoken pain is all around us.

    I’m talking here about a way of caring for each other that hews a fine line, because I in no way want to encourage my friends and loved ones to wallow in their sorrow. I want to honor it for what it is but never give it the power to rule my life.

    It’s true that others may be able to benefit from what I’ve learned—but not immediately after suffering the same kind of hurt. And it’s entirely up to them whether or not they want to learn from me.

    To show love for another in sorrow asks more of us than empathetic gestures. It asks us to try and understand exactly what the other is feeling, and even to risk getting a taste of that pain.

    At a retreat in Maui in 2001, Ram Dass drew a clear distinction between empathy and compassion.

    “Compassion for somebody else is that you are one with them and you hurt with them. That compassion comes out of the oneness of your heart, the oneness with all beings . . . ” He continued, “It’s not just empathy. It’s not one person feels empathy for another person. It’s got to be one person.”

    How will I ever reach the point where I can feel as one with someone who’s hurting? In this I’m like a child learning to walk; I can only stumble and try again.

    I’ve lived most of my life cultivating the image of myself as a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need anyone’s help. Reid’s death showed me how wrong I was. My task now, I think, is to be present for others who are hurting, because I know what suffering means. This knowledge is a bittersweet gift that’s been given to me by life. I’m trying as hard as I can to use it.

    I do not always succeed.

    This is what I know for certain: I can’t tell others how to heal. All I can do is sit with them—and when they’re ready, help them light a candle to find their way out of the dark. Doing this kindly, without giving voice to how I think they should move forward, is a practice I will struggle to follow the rest of my life.

    One last thing: A few weeks ago, when I had another setback with work, my dear Jeff came to me and enveloped me in a hug. He held me close, hurting with me. And only then, after several minutes, did he remind me that it wasn’t all that important—that in fact I had plenty of reasons to let it go.

    I responded by giving him the biggest, longest kiss I’ve given him in years.

    Photo by mhx