Tiny Buddha

Category: Blog

  • Sometimes the Safe Path is Not the Right Path

    Sometimes the Safe Path is Not the Right Path

    “As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.” ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

    When I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist. I loved to draw, especially, and even took art classes on the weekends when I could. For fun.

    Obviously, being an artist isn’t a viable career (or so everyone in my life told me in subtle and not so subtle ways), so instead of going to college to delve deeper into drawing or painting or sculpture, I went the safe route: art teacher.

    Well, after a few semesters I decided I didn’t want to be an art teacher, so I went another safe route: graphic design. Unfortunately, I didn’t enjoy graphic design that much, most of the technical/pre-press stuff was way over my head (and interest level), and I turned down the one full-time job I was offered after college.

    Since I was only twenty-one, adventure seemed appropriate. I moved to Vermont to work at a ski lodge, I drove cross-country, I lived in a tiny apartment in Montana, and then I lived in a tent for a while. It was awesome.

    After that I went back to the safe stuff. I worked in an office here, I worked as an event coordinator there, then back to another office job.

    I don’t want to make it seem like I’ve always just automatically chosen the thing that felt the safest, the most conventional, since the travels of my early twenties, because I certainly haven’t.

    I quit a “good” job because it made me miserable and I wanted to get trained as a life coach.

    I quit another well-paying job (that made me absolutely batty and went against all of my core beliefs) in order to stay home with my daughter, even though it seemed like there was no way to afford to do so. (We made it work.)

    I started making art again, with real gusto and zeal, even though it doesn’t really make any sense beyond my own deep desire to do so.

    Recently, though, I faced what feels like my biggest What-My-Heart-Wants Vs. Take-the-Safe-Path challenge ever.

    After going in circles and wondering if I should bother trying to make art my main “thing,” I decided that I should apply to graduate school to become a school counselor. Because you can’t make a living as an artist, as you’ll remember.

    Counseling has always interested me, I like kids, and I would have the summers off to do the thing I really like, which is, well, you already know this: art.

    I spent a while researching the career and working on convincing myself I’d be able to find a job and that it would be the right fit for me. I applied about six months before applications were due and then pretty much forgot about it.

    That is, until the deadline rolled around. I knew I’d hear something shortly after February 1st, and then there it was, an email inviting me to a four-hour group interview.

    I can sum up the way I felt about going to this interview with one word: Ugh. I texted a friend and told her if someone else was in my position and felt the sucking feeling I was having, I’d tell them not to go.

    I kept thinking, though, that I should go, “just to keep my options open.” You know, to be safe.

    Before I went, I hooked up with a coach to talk me through some of what was going on in my head. What stands out to me the most about our sixty-minute conversation is that I said going to school felt like the safe option.

    When she asked me what really, truly felt safe to me, in my soul, I said I felt the safest when I was in my living room, art supplies set up, light flowing through the windows, creating something.

    Still, though, I went to the group interview. I was surprised by it; I enjoyed meeting the current students, the professors seemed lovely, and I was impressed with the program.

    I also learned how competitive the program was—of the eighty something people there, only about thirty would get in. I didn’t think I had a chance.

    I was wrong about that. In fact, I was included in the first round of applicants; a top pick. That made me, or at least my ego, feel really good.

    My husband was out of town for work at the time, and we agreed to discuss it when he got back. After a lot of back and forth, I decided to accept.

    I mean, I’d be taking on probably $18,000 in debt, but I’d have an almost guaranteed job when I finished! And I’d have a state pension! And I’d have summers off!

    The other thing? Multiple people who have known me for a very long time told me what a great fit school counseling was for me. I used other people’s excitement about it to continue to believe that this was the right thing to do.

    But then some weird stuff started happening. Conversations with my husband would often end with him saying, completely unprompted, “I wish you didn’t have to go to school.” Spiritual teachers who mean a lot to me started popping up on my Facebook or Podcast feed telling me things that I needed to know, like how to really follow my soul’s calling.

    I felt like the Universe was trying to tell me that going to school was not right for me, despite seeming like the safe option. I understood that if I went, I’d be giving up what I had dreamed for myself and even my family, and that I’d be one step farther away from listening to my true self.

    So I decided to withdraw.

    I knew I wanted out, but every time I went to send that official email, I got scared. I kept thinking about what I’d be giving up (Stability! A pension! A “real” job!).

    Finally, after a month, I did it. I sent the email from my phone while I was sitting on the floor in the living room, light pouring in the windows, a painting I was working on in front of me. I did it before I could think too hard about it.

    Since then I’ve felt a variety of things. Sometimes fear, sometimes joy, sometimes worry, sometimes nothing much.

    I wish I could tell you that in the month since I withdrew I’ve become a beloved artist who makes money constantly. I wish I could tell you that everything is working out perfectly. So far, though, I’m just practicing going toward what feels good and away from what feels bad.

    I have faith now, faith that I’m following the right path for me. That picking something because it looks good on paper is absolutely not a reason to do something, even if other people tell you it is.

    When I look back on this journey, what I see is a woman who wants what’s best for herself and her family, so is following the steps that she thinks will bring her what everyone else will see as success, and I can’t say I blame her. I’m just glad she changed her mind.

    I want everyone to know that the safe path isn’t always safe, and it isn’t always right, and that only you know what’s the next step, but only if you listen closely. Here are some ideas for tuning in.

    1. Listen to your body.

    I just can’t understate the importance of this one. I’ve known for a long time that bodies are way better guides than minds, but sometimes I lose track of it.

    I knew, for sure, that school was wrong for me because every single time I thought about starting in the fall my body, especially my chest, clenched into a tight ball. A message like that is the body saying loud and clear “wrong direction.”

    2. Stop listening to your thoughts.

    Just as you want to start listening to your body, you want to stop listening to your mind and your thoughts.

    I know, it seems weird, because our brains are supposed to be all rational and smart and stuff, but so much of what goes on up there is completely based on fear. We worry about money, we worry what our family will think, we worry about dying alone. Those fears are just words, and if you let them lead you away from what you truly want, you’re going to be in trouble.

    3. Do it a little at a time.

    If you’re enmeshed in a career or relationship or financial situation that’s been going on for years and years and you have tons of people relying on you, it probably doesn’t feel so easy to just say, “Eh, I don’t want to do this anymore.”

    That’s why you do one small thing at a time. If your body is giving you ulcers because you hate your job so much, but it feels like a fluttering butterfly when you think of taking a photography class, take the photography class. Try one small thing at a time, building toward the life that you really want.

    4. Never buy into the idea that the safe way is the right way.

    If you find yourself thinking anything along the lines of, “Well, that’s boring, but it’s a smart career to get into” or “He’s from a prominent family and would be a smart choice,” run! Or at the very least, slow down and check to see what your body and heart are telling you.

    I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again: This whole being human thing is hard. I believe that it can be delightful and joyful and wonderful, but it takes work.

    We have to push against societal norms that tell us we should do things a certain way. We have to get clear on what we want and be willing to pivot when that changes. We have to be flexible; we have to be aware.

    My goal is to choose what feels good for me. I hope that you’ll do your best to choose what feels right for you, too, even if it’s not what other people think is safe.

  • A Letter to My Exes: I’m Sorry You Never Knew Me

    A Letter to My Exes: I’m Sorry You Never Knew Me

    “Authenticity is a collection of choices that we have to make every day. It’s about the choice to show up and be real. The choice to be honest. The choice to let our true selves be seen.” ~Brené Brown

    To all of my ex-boyfriends, ex-lovers, and especially my ex-husband, I am so sorry.

    I’m sorry because I never gave you the chance to really know me. I hid myself from you. I showed you the smallest version of myself because I didn’t trust you to meet me in my strength, my bigness, and my desire. Well, in truth it was I whom I did not trust with my strength, bigness, and desire. I was scared to be in my full expression, afraid that I would die if I were to really presence myself.

    I didn’t know I thought this; I didn’t know I was driven by fear and shame. But I was.

    I wasn’t courageous enough to be vulnerable and exposed. I needed you to want me, so I tried to fit the mold of what I thought you needed me to be for you. I convinced myself that I was happy to be the object of your desire. I thought I was okay with the way you touched me, and the way you judged my body as an object.

    I didn’t know any other way to be with you, but each time I allowed this to happen, allowed myself to be an object for you, a part of me died.

    This is the irony of being driven by fear. In being afraid that I would die if you saw all of me, I killed parts of myself in the simple act of hiding from you.

    It was a slow, painful death.

    I blamed you.

    If it was your fault that I felt small in the world, I didn’t have to look at my own limitations and flaws. If it were you who weren’t enough for me, then I wouldn’t have to look at my own fear of not being enough.

    My dissatisfaction with you was not your fault. It was mine. I had a fantasy of what a relationship would look like, and I tried to make you into the object of my imagined relationship. No real connection could emerge when I hid myself while trying to make you into the man I thought I needed. I’m sorry for only wanting my wishful version of you, rather than the real you.

    I wanted you to be better, but you seemed happy with this small version of me. I resented you for that. How could you be happy with “small” me?

    I cooked, I cleaned, and I performed well in bed, never expressing my truth, my passion, or my desire. When I felt hurt by you, I led you to believe that I was okay with everything. I never told you. I never let you see my pain or how I was impacted by you. I just tried to be better for you, to be less of who I was and more of who I thought you wanted.

    I took your satisfaction with “small” me to mean you didn’t want me to be big and self-possessed. But I never asked you. I never even let you know that there was more to me. I never gave you the opportunity to know the depth of who I really am, and for this I am so sorry.

    By staying quiet and complicit, I led you to believe that I was my mask. That my body and mind were all that there were, and I hid my soul from you.

    I never let you see the immense bigness of my heart or the power of my spirit. I never let you touch me deeply in these hidden places, and I took your lack of trying as lack of interest. So I pretended that I was okay with this, that a surfaced connection was enough for me.

    It wasn’t.

    I wanted you to know all of me. I wanted you to see the vast and endless range of my being. I wanted you to touch every single part of who I am. I wanted your soul to make love to mine, and I never let you have the chance because I hid all of that goodness from you.

    I am so incredibly sorry.

    From the far reaches of the universe, where my soul touches the hands of the divine mother and father, I am sorry.

    And to my future lovers, I promise to never rob you of the opportunity to really know me. I will be revealed to you, fully and wholly. I promise to let you know who I really am and what I really want. And I promise to meet you there, too, seeing your vastness and immense power. I will gift you the opportunity to lift me up with your masculine strength as I will embrace you with my feminine openness.

    No more games. I am here for real love, a love that is deep and powerful and expansive—a love that is aligned with the greater good.

  • What My Self-Judgment Was Trying to Tell Me

    What My Self-Judgment Was Trying to Tell Me

    “Regret is a fair but tough teacher.” ~Brene Brown

    A few weeks back, I found myself in the midst of a shame hangover and, like most people, when I’m in that unique internal cavern, self-judgments swoop into my consciousness like a colony of rabid bats in a four-foot tent.

    I’ll paint the picture…

    There are about two or three boys that have started visiting the houses on my block recently. They hold a rag and a windex bottle, come into every yard, knock on the door, and ask to wash the front doors (most of which are glass). Seems pretty harmless, huh? And, full, vulnerable disclosure here, they were also another ethnicity than I (and I consider myself a woke liberal).

    The first time I saw them approaching the houses, I felt mildly perturbed. I didn’t have cash on me. I didn’t want to deal with them. I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want to have to tell them “no.” I had just washed that door.

    They were around twelve years old, maybe younger, and I could tell they were working up the confidence to come into the yard and ask. It wasn’t easy for them. It was a little painful to watch.

    I struggled with being irritated and simultaneously feeling empathy for them. Both uncomfortable. As they made their way into my yard, I told them I had just washed the door, but I noticed the edge in my voice. Something in me felt triggered and I wasn’t quite sure why. I felt a hot beat of shame flush in my cheeks. 

    A few days later they returned, and as I answered the door, a boy with big brown eyes tried to get the words out but before he could even finish his sentence, I could feel anger rising in my body.

    I was watching it happen, confused. Maybe it was all the years living in a big city and feeling bombarded constantly by people asking for money, asking for help, asking for compassion. Some self-protective part of me was kicking in for absolutely no reason.

    I told them no, that I didn’t have cash, and I could hear my voice getting sharper and sharper. I wondered what they saw in that moment—a woman with a sign in her yard professing #lovewins, with a sharp tongue and narrowed eyes, skeptical and cold. I could feel myself tearing inside.

    To make up for it, I said, “Maybe next time. Come back later?”

    Three days later, they came back. I could see them making their way from down the street and the stories started spinning in my head. Do their parents know they’re doing this? Just making their way down the block multiple times a week? This is ridiculous. How much are they even charging for this? What a rip off! They are trying to scam us.

    My body responded in kind, seamlessly. I could feel my cortisol levels rising. I wondered if this was a clue that I actually might be racist on some level. I’m realizing now, yes, of course I am.

    “Excuse me ma’am,” one of them asked again.

    Before he could finish, I noticed I was yelling across the yard and transforming into someone I hated. In a second, I was shrill, nasty, and reactive.

    “If you want to get business, you probably shouldn’t come back every day,” I heard myself hiss as I jumped up and stomped over to the fence. “Do your parents even know where you are?”

    It felt like an out-of-body experience. One self was feeling for these boys watching this lumbering, angry white woman approaching them. One was observing, was sad for what they were seeing, and one part was jumping head first into blame. I have never seen love and fear so clearly demonstrated in my dual personalities I felt so much separation of self.

    “Well, you said to come back,” he replied honestly, “at another time.”

    Oh crap. He was right, I had told them to come back (to get them to go away), to be left alone. They took me literally.

    I realized how much I was shaping in that moment. I was teaching these boys how the world worked, how skeptical people are of other’s motivations (particularly people of their ethnicity), how nasty people can become for no apparent reason.

    I was professing love on my yard signs and teaching them about fear. They saw me in my yard, lovingly interacting in my toddler and then treating them like their hearts were disposable.

    I watched them walk away, wondering what they were muttering, as the shame cloak washed over me. For the next hour, I sat with my toddler son watching Horton Hears a Who. I was feeling so down I couldn’t even be present except to the message.

    “A person is a person no matter how small.”

    The self-judgments were getting darker and darker.  

    You are a fraud.

    You fool. You are a racist.

    You are deep down a rotting mess.

    You are a nasty b*tch. That is who you are really are.

    And with each word, I sunk lower and lower in the cavern.

    Until I took a moment to remember something important about self-judgments.

    They can actually be a good thing, as long as you don’t take them literally. They are a sign of regret.

    “Regret is a fair but tough teacher.” ~Brene Brown

    I regretted that situation because my fear-based actions were so out of alignment with what my deeper self desired. I wanted to take care of those boys. I wanted them to feel seen and valued, but fear stepped in and I created the opposite effect.

    Self-judgments can tell us where we are out of alignment with deeper self and our intuitive responses.

    I think of all the times love has told me what to do, has urged me toward compassionate action, toward mercy, toward lifting others up, and how often my fear steps in and death chokes it to the ground by reasoning it away. Each time, self-judgment promptly followed. Each of those instances is teaching me more and more how to listen to that intuitive voice before listening to the screams of fear.

    Our deeper self whispers, and our fear screams, so it makes sense that it wins a lot of the time. If we continue to ignore those whispers, however, our deeper self will try to get our attention through the channels of self-judgment.

    Yes, I have parts of me that are certainly nasty and rotten, and I am realizing, also racist. I also know these do not define who I am capable of becoming. They are expressions of fear and, just like every other human, I am capable of using them to defend myself when I am triggered. The more I recognize that impulse, the more choice I have to act in love.

    The deeper self will scream (and use your own past wounds against you) if that is the only way to get you to pay attention. The mistake I initially made was that I was taking the self-judgments literally, and as truth, instead of decoding their messages.

    “If the self-judgments aren’t literal, what might my deeper self be trying to say?” I asked myself.

    When I looked underneath all of the judgments, I could see that I was afraid if I kept acting that way toward people that I would be a part of everything I hated about the world right now.

    Underneath that fear was a request from my deeper self to start to choose loving and compassionate responses as much as I could, to be brave, to take responsibility for what is happening in this world right now, to get better.

    I am sick and tired of betraying myself all the time. I am so sick of letting fear run the game of my life, keeping me separated from other people. I am committed to love winning inside of me more and more.

    I can’t promise perfection. I can’t promise I won’t be triggered by a whole bunch of past conditioning and crap, but I can promise to try to get better each time, and to create a plan for what I am going to do get better, to create the world I want to live in.

    For now, I’m keeping cash in my drawer, hoping those boys come back. If they do, I’m inviting them into the yard, introducing them to my son, asking their names, and thanking them for their help. I’m going to show them that people can love them without knowing them yet.

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

    A Powerful Technique That Can Help Heal the Pain of Regret

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • How I Stopped Trying to Please Everyone and Started Prioritizing Myself

    How I Stopped Trying to Please Everyone and Started Prioritizing Myself

    “When you say ‘yes’ to others, make sure you don’t say ‘no’ to yourself.” ~Paolo Coehlo

    My whole body was shaking. Tears streaming down my face, my nose blocked and throat sore from crying. Yet, no sound escaped my mouth except an occasional gentle sigh or hushed sob I was unable to control.

    My husband was lying in bed next to me. I held my breath and lay motionless whenever he stirred in his sleep.

    He had an early start ahead and needed rest. I didn’t want to disturb him, bother him with my silly crying fits. I didn’t want him to know that I was unhappy.

    He wouldn’t understand, I didn’t even understand myself. I had a good life. A loving family, caring friends, a promising career I enjoyed.

    I should have been happy, fulfilled, and grateful for the blessings in my life. But instead I felt numb, empty, and lifeless, as if a grey veil was covering every part of my being. And the crushing wave of desperation washed over me night after night.

    Because the nighttime tears were my only release. I drowned in overwhelm, stress, and exhaustion. I was so tired.

    Drained and worn out by the myriad of tasks every new day had in store. Weighed down by tons of work projects, household chores, family demands, and favors. Broken from being kind, loyal, considerate, caring, and hardworking for others, non-stop.

    I never had time to rest and relax. I couldn’t even remember when I last read a novel, walked on the beach, or followed my passions. And I had pushed my dreams to the back burner so many times that they lost all their pull and sparkle.

    I was trapped in an endless loop of “work, eat, cry, sleep,” and I couldn’t escape. Too many people relied on me, depended on my help, and counted on my support.

    I couldn’t let them down. They would be upset, displeased, maybe even angry. And they would be disappointed if they discovered the truth: that I wasn’t strong enough to cope with it all, that I was a failure.

    That night, as I secretly cried in my pillow, I realized that I was on the fast lane to burnout. I couldn’t go on like this without killing myself. And I knew something had to change.

    The Impossible Task of Relaxation

    In the following days, I attempted to take time out for myself—do things I enjoyed, pursue my hobbies, have a well-deserved nap. But my diary was too full, bursting with appointments, events, and meetings.

    My boss expected me to take on yet another project, my work colleagues asked for support with their problems, my friends needed help with wedding preparations, house moves, and childcare. My charity volunteering position as a treasurer of a local cat shelter demanded constant attention, and the household suffered in silence even without me taking a break.

    And how could I not put my family first in everything I did? I was their wife, sister, daughter, and mother. I loved them, was responsible for them, and wanted them to be happy and healthy.

    But sometimes I struggled to find the motivation, energy, and strength to get out of bed. And nobody noticed; nobody offered help or support. They took for granted that I would get it all done. They didn’t realize that I hated myself for being too weak to juggle it all.

    I felt overburdened, resentful, abused, and irritated. Why did they all take advantage of my good nature? Why did they not see how exhausted I was, how their demands swallowed my life?

    How could they do this to me? I knew nothing back then.

    The True Problem of the Ever Helpful, Chronically Selfless, and Desperately Exhausted

    I spent several weeks angry and resentful. People around me wondered why I was so unbalanced, upset, and grumpy.

    They had no idea that I was suffering because of their unrealistically high demands and expectations. That they were selfish, mean, and inconsiderate for shifting their burdens on to me. At least that’s what I thought.

    But then they started to ask whether something was wrong, whether I needed to talk about it, and what they could do to help. “Just holler,” they said. “Anything you need, any time, we are there for you, okay?”

    I was gobsmacked. I had convinced myself that they didn’t care, that they were taking me for granted and considered me their personal property.

    But the truth was that I had kept my suffering a secret. I never told them that I was stressed and exhausted; I never said “no” if they asked me for yet another favor. They didn’t know that it was all too much, that I wasn’t coping.

    They weren’t malicious, exploitative, or taking advantage. But they saw me smile, heard me say that “I was fine,” and were used to me helping out without a second thought.

    I had fooled them all those years with my happy face and bubbly spirit. So I could help, support, save, and rescue. So they could be grateful and I could feel useful, valuable and appreciated.

    There was no way around it: I was a people pleaser. I needed the praise, recognition, and gratitude of others to feel worthwhile. I was addicted to serving others.

    And I was hurting myself in more ways than I realized.

    6 Compelling Reasons to Break the People-Pleasing Addiction

    I knew that my people pleasing compulsion left me exhausted and drained of energy and joy. But only when I examined my predicament more deeply did I recognize the devastating impact it had on my life:

    1. I lost myself.

    Because I was so desperate to please others, I not only did what they expected from me, I also was who I thought they wanted me to be. I assimilated their interests, behaved according to their preferences, and kept my opinions to myself. My true self was buried under an enormous pile of adaptation and lies in the hope to please others.

    2. I felt unloved.

    I was always ready to help others but, when I needed support, I felt that nobody cared. They were taking from me without any intention to give back. Many of my friends back then only contacted me when they had a problem but seemed to forget about me when things were going well. Simply because they weren’t used to me asking for anything in return.

    3. I created co-dependencies.

    Many of my relationships relied on me giving and the other person receiving. I depended on the service to get my fix of appreciation and recognition. The others depended on me for my help and support. And I was never sure whether the relationships were based on affection or co-dependence.

    4. I was vulnerable.

    Because of my overwhelming desire for acknowledgement and appreciation, I would have done anything to please others. Looking back now, I understand how vulnerable this made me. How easily somebody could have abused me, forced me to do things to “make them happy.” I was lucky, but others might not be.

    5. I damaged my health.

    Because I was hard-wired to please others, I ignored my body when it screamed for rest. I couldn’t stay in bed if I had promised others my help or my company. I couldn’t live with myself if I let them down. So I ploughed through the exhaustion and drained my immune system until I seemed to have colds, coughs, and flus non-stop.

    6. I beat myself up.

    And when I was lying in bed with a high fever I still beat myself up for disappointing others. I felt down and upset because I was a useless inconvenience. I was horrified my family and friends would get sick of me if I bothered them too much and needed help. And I wondered how I could justify my existence if I got seriously ill or too old and frail to please everybody all the time.

    As I saw the damage my people pleasing caused in my life, I knew it had to stop. I had to break my addiction this time. I would finally learn to say “no.”

    But it was far more difficult than I imagined.

    The Real Motivation of a People Pleaser

    After the shocking realization of the true consequences, I was mindful of my people pleasing tendencies. I was determined to prioritize myself.

    But, while my body cried out for a rest, I felt lazy every time I settled down for a nap. I felt selfish when I indulged in a hobby and inadequate if I didn’t give 400% in everything I did.

    Whenever I attempted to do something for myself, rest, or say “no,” I was gripped by crippling guilt. It spread through my body, stinging in my chest, choking my breath, and weighing on my heart.

    My mind was racing with all the tasks I should do, all the chores I ought to complete, and all the support I was supposed to provide.

    Instead of enjoying my me-time, I beat myself up for not focusing on more pressing matters. Instead of deriving pleasure from my hobbies, I punished myself for letting others down. Instead of recharging vital energy, I condemned myself for not cleaning the bathroom.

    The guilt sucked all the joy out of my life and left me in an unbearable state of self-punishment, self-loathing, and self-condemnation. It seemed like I had only two options in my life: be miserable because of overwhelm, or be unhappy because of guilt. And none of these choices was acceptable.

    But why could I not prioritize myself? Why did I feel so guilty?

    The Tragic Reason Why We Sacrifice Ourselves to Please Others

    As I contemplated these crucial questions, I soon discovered that all my problems were caused by lack of self-worth.

    I was pleasing others because I believed that I wasn’t good enough for their friendship, respect, and attention. I didn’t deserve their love.

    I was convinced that others only tolerated me as long as I was useful, contributed my share, and proved my worth. I was terrified that they would abandon me if I didn’t comply, disappointed them, or ever dared to say “no.”

    Low self-worth caused fear of rejection. And fear of rejection produced guilt. An all-consuming pressure to do more, be better, and try harder if I wanted to maintain my relationships and keep my job.

    So pleasing others became an addiction. A compulsive overcompensation for my lack of self-worth and self-love. With guilt overpowering me every time I withdrew from my self-invalidation and chose to prioritize myself.

    I was burning myself out, sacrificing my life for others. Not because they demanded it but because I was convinced it was necessary to be accepted. Because I thought I had nothing to offer but my tireless service, commitment, and dedication.

    Because, deep down, I believed I was unacceptable, unlovable. Worthless.

    I knew that I had to say “no” to others if I wanted to prioritize myself. Yet, I never could. At least not without feeling like a nasty, unhelpful, selfish bastard.

    Yes, I could force myself to say “no.” But afterward, I would plummet into a turbulent sea of unhappiness, guilt, and self-punishment. It wasn’t the way out.

    Because my people pleasing addiction wasn’t the real problem, it was merely a symptom. If I wanted to learn to prioritize myself without suffering I had to treat the root cause. I had to heal my low self-worth.

    Learning to Prioritize Yourself

    I grew up believing that our worth is defined by our achievements, our usefulness to others and society. That we are inherently worthless but can earn worthiness by gaining qualifications, wealth, popularity, and success. And that we are only deserving of love and friendship if we sacrifice ourselves to please others.

    But I was wrong because the truth is that we are worth personified. Worth isn’t the result of our actions, accomplishments, and possessions; it isn’t increased by self-sacrifice. It is the essence of our being, the foundation of our existence.

    And it is our task to remember. To let go of our society’s misunderstanding and wake up to the exquisite value and deservedness that is inherent to all of us. To realize our infinite worth that does not depend on any outside factors.

    We are worth. And as long as we treat others with respect and kindness we will always be good enough to deserve their love—without sacrificing our happiness, damaging our bodies, and betraying our values.

    I must have repeated “I am worth” a million times. I affirmed it twenty times a day, told myself when I felt guilty for putting myself first. And I assured myself when I finally told my colleagues, family, and friends that I was stressed and exhausted, that I couldn’t go on like this, that I needed time for myself.

    And they understood. All those years I was horrified they would leave me if I didn’t cater to all their needs. But they knew my true worth better than I did.

    They cared for me, not for the tasks and favors I did for them. They respected my needs. And, after a while, I managed to prioritize myself.

    I now have time to pursue my dreams, give my body the rest it needs, and read a book in the sun. Without guilt or fear of rejection.

    I still enjoy helping and supporting others, granting favors, and doing my best at work. But my motivation has changed. I no longer do it because I am terrified of negative consequences.

    I do it because it makes me happy. And I now know that I deserve happiness. I deserve love, rest and time for myself. Because I am worth.

    And so are you.

  • Free “Change Your Life” eBook

    Free “Change Your Life” eBook

    Hi friends! Last week I sent an email about a free eBook I recently contributed to. Since it’s only available for a limited time, I’m reposting that here on the blog.

    —

    I’m excited to share that I’ve contributed to a wonderful eBook that provides actionable, life-changing tips and advice from dozens of authors and bloggers.

    You can download the free eBook Change Your Life!: Experts Share Their Top Tips and Strategies for Reaching Your Highest Potential here by entering your email address.

    In my story, which you’ll find on page 30, I shared how I stopped causing myself unnecessary stress and anxiety while trying to create major changes in my life over these past few years.

    If you’ve ever felt both desperate to create change and powerless to do it, you’ll likely relate to my experience, and you’ll hopefully have the same “aha” moment I did when you read about the epiphany that changed everything for me.

    This free eBook is part of the Better You Bundles for Good promotion that will run from July 27th through the 30th. It will include dozens of courses and eBooks, worth thousands of all dollars, all for one low price—so check your email for additional updates over the next couple weeks so you won’t miss it!

    The best part is that 25% of the proceeds from the sale are going to support Courageous Kitchen, a charity helping refugees in Bangkok. As little as $100 per month can get a family off the streets in Thailand, so we can make a big impact with this promotion.

    Get your free copy of Change Your Life! here.

    I hope you enjoy the eBook!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    1. Own your negativity.

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

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

    2. Challenge all-or-nothing thinking.

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

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

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

    3. Give people the benefit of the doubt.

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

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

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

    4. Let go.

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

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

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

    5. Think big.

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

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

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

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

    6. Expect failure and setbacks.

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

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

    7. Practice meditation.

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

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

    8. Practice self-acceptance.

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

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

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

    You Have What It Takes

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

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

  • To Be AND Not to Be: Honoring a Life Lost to Suicide

    To Be AND Not to Be: Honoring a Life Lost to Suicide

    “To be, or not to be—that is the question.” ~William Shakespeare

    This Sunday marks one year since my friend took his own life. It both is and isn’t a big deal. It is in the sense that we like to commemorate things: one-year-old, one year at a new job, one year since 9-11, one year sober.

    It isn’t in the sense that my to-do list that day includes “thaw and marinate chicken.”

    When a person takes his own life, it creates a cosmic shift in the universe.

    It also doesn’t.

    The first few days after a person takes his own life are the weirdest. He was here. Now he’s not.

    The disappearance of a human being is beyond comprehension. A whole human vanishes. Six feet one inch tall. One hundred and sixty pounds. Blue eyes. Salty blonde hair. Brilliant veterinarian. Father of two young daughters. Husband. Son. Friend.

    Perhaps the coroner has determined that the cause of death was self-inflicted gunshot wound. But it is equally as believable that he took a last minute trip. He had to go unexpectedly, but he will be back. He is out running errands. His flight was delayed.

    But as time passes and the person doesn’t come walking up the drive and through the door, his favorite hat bee-bopping up and down with steady gait in the yard, deep sadness swells around the supernatural weirdness of it all. The sadness makes it difficult to breath, at times. It is life altering and universe shifting. It is monumental.

    Except that it isn’t. No matter how deep our grief, schools continue to meet. Clients continue to call. Crimes continue to be committed. Babies continue to be born. Cars still need oil changes.

    Neighbors still drive out of their driveways in the mornings. They still look carefully before exiting their driveways into the street. They still stop to check their mail, which keeps coming by the way, even when someone we love is suddenly gone.

    Just as our own serious injuries may frantically send us to the ER, once we are sitting in the waiting area, we look around and realize we are merely one of many. Death is plain.

    The ordinariness of it all can make it seem like our person didn’t mean very much. Sometimes it feels like he never even existed.

    Except that he did. His half-used soap bar remains in the shower. His razor sits on the counter with tiny hairs embedded in its blades. His cell phone rests on the nightstand with three unread text messages. His bills sit an unopened still-life on the kitchen counter. His half eaten banana slowly turns brown.

    His stuff suggests he was real. That he was here despite his sudden disappearance.

    As his loved ones tasked with cleaning up what he left behind begin to eradicate the trail he left of his final days, when the soap has cracked and the fruit has become rotten, it can feel as though all evidence of his existence has vanished.

    Still, even if every shred of evidence of a person’s existence is lit on fire and turned to ash, our memories, or experiences, and our love for people who disappear will live on. Those memories, intangible ghosts in our minds that cannot be touched, seen, or proven, both are and aren’t real.

    For me, the best space within which to honor those we have lost is to live in the in-between, a place where they both did and did not exist. Where they both did and did not die. Where their loss both is and is not extraordinary.

    This Sunday, I plan to commemorate the day by getting what is and is not meaningful: a tattoo. The experience will and will not be important. It will be important in the sense that I am getting a semi-colon tattoo to represent mental illness and suicide awareness in honor of my dear friend. It isn’t in the sense that millions of people get tattoos every day.

    This Sunday, I will be sad. The sadness that comes with suicide doesn’t ever truly disappear. Because it is always there, I suppose the sadness left over after a person takes his own life both is and isn’t important. It is in the sense that it lives down low beneath the joy, laughter, excitement, and other emotions that continue to be felt despite the life altering loss.

    But it isn’t all that extraordinary either. Sadness is not exclusive to me. And despite my sadness, this Sunday will be regular. We will laugh when it makes sense to laugh. We will watch our usual TV shows. We will wash laundry for the week. We will return emails. We will grade papers.

    When someone we love dies, we swear we will never take our lives for granted. Every moment will count; every day will be lived fully. Similarly, we swear we will never take for granted our friends, our spouses, our children. We will keep our eyes on the big picture. We won’t sweat the small stuff. We will stop drinking, stop smoking, stop yelling, start meditating.

    Except when we don’t. And that is okay. Because although we aim to see the death of our loved ones as a monumental turning point in our lives—one that will push us to live our best life—the fact also remains that life is ordinary. Death is common. Our health will fail one way or another. We will yell again. We will take things for granted.

    Because the finite nature of our capacity for understanding pushes us into the realm of “either/or,” we believe that we either appreciate our lives, or we don’t. We are either happy or we are sad. We are either healthy or we are sick. We are either alive or we are dead.

    I suspect that, if we could hear the voices of ghosts, they’d tell us that our finite view causes us much suffering. That Hamlet’s contemplation of his own being when he asks “to be or not to be?” is the wrong question with no real answer. For even when one takes his own life, he does not cease “to be.”

    After all, my friend is gone, but his memory lives on. I can see his sweet spirit in the eyes of his children. I can feel his love for nature as the wind blows through the leaves of trees, dancing alive. He is here, and he is not. His ashes will return to the earthen ground from which he came. Perhaps he will become part of a cloud, a stream. Perhaps his remains will enrich the earth that grows the tea we drink.

    The sooner we accept that the universe is infinite and that our capacity to understand is finite (despite whatever technological advances we believe humans have made), the sooner we will find the peace that can only come from living outside of the duality of either/or.

    For me, I accept that my dear friend died because he took his own life. I also accept that he did not die.

    This sort of wild, fantastical thinking is not the kind one might see in popular culture movies depicting communication with the deceased in the afterlife. It is the kind of thinking that arises from acceptance of the infinitesimal universe that is beyond our own finite understanding. Once we accept this truth, the spirit of those we have lost is freed beyond the grave.

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

    5 Ways Journaling Can Help You Get Through the Hard Stuff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Here are five reasons why:

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

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

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

    2. Writing is and of itself cathartic.

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

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

    3. Feelings and experiences become less overwhelming.

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

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

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

    4. Reading back helps reveal patterns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    What becomes available when you widen your perspective?

    —

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

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

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

    How to Be There for Others Without Taking on Their Pain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Allow them to find their own way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Realize that you’re only responsible for yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    —

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

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

  • Boost Your Happiness: 10 Mindfulness Tips for Busy People

    Boost Your Happiness: 10 Mindfulness Tips for Busy People

    “There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Do you ever feel as though you would be happy if only things were a little different?

    You know that happiness is important, but you keep putting it on the backburner because there simply isn’t enough time to prioritize your own inner joy.

    And at the same time, you know that meditation would help, but you can’t even imagine where you’re going to get the spare time you need to sit still and meditate.

    In an ideal world, we would schedule moments every day in which to cater to our health needs, because health and well-being are paramount. Yet despite our best efforts we will inevitably face those times when we’re busy every minute of the day. I know I’ve been there.

    A few years ago I moved country while pursuing life as a freelance journalist. I was working non-stop for a less than minimum wage, and I had zero time to focus on my mental health.

    Life became unbearably stressful. And while I knew that I could stop the stress if I meditated, I simply couldn’t work out how I would ever get the time to do it.

    My happiness drifted further and further away. Stress built. Anxiety hit hard. And with zero free time I simply couldn’t find a way out of my misery.

    I knew meditation was the key. I just didn’t have the time for it. So I made a choice. Instead of meditating the old-fashioned way, sitting still doing nothing, I would find ways to meditate while still being productive. That way I could work on my happiness while still doing everything I needed to do.

    The key was mindfulness.

    By simply being present and living in the moment, I could meditate while getting things done.

    This was a total game-changer for me. Suddenly I had all the time in the world to practice mindfulness because I could do it while still being productive.

    I was mindful day and night. I would eat meals mindfully, walk mindfully, read my email mindfully… whatever I needed to do I would do mindfully.

    Suddenly I had gone from having no time to meditate to making mindfulness an integrated part of my life.

    All mindful moments were helpful at this time. But there were ten mindful practices that I found particularly valuable. And even though today I keep a much healthier schedule and make sure not to spread myself too thin, I still use these practices.

    Whether you’re going through a busy time or looking for an alternative to traditional seated-meditation, you can use these techniques to boost your mindfulness while saving time.

    1. Walk mindfully.

    Walking is one of the most relaxing exercises in the world. But it can be all too easy to ruin a good walk by thinking too much. When walking, be mindful of the world around you, paying attention to your five senses. Alternatively, meditate on the feeling of movement in your legs, which is a practice used in Zen walking.

    2. Eat mindfully.

    Eating mindfully is one of the most wonderful things we do for both body and mind. When we eat mindfully we become more aware of the food we are eating. This makes us more appreciative of food and of the digestive process, and also makes us more likely to eat healthily. Take time eating meals, and focus on the food.

    3. In a queue? Meditate.

    Here’s a great time-saving tip. When you’re in a queue, meditate. You’re standing still doing nothing anyway, and you could be there for a good few minutes, so why not make the most of the time?

    Close your eyes and focus on your breath. Or, if you don’t feel comfortable with your eyes closed in public, gaze at a wall or something else that is not distracting, and focus on breathing. This is a great way to actually make use of time that would otherwise be wasted.

    4. Meditate on the bus.

    This is my all time favorite mindfulness practice. I’m frequently using the bus in order to help cut emissions, and my trips range from half an hour to well over an hour. That’s time that would be utterly wasted. But by meditating I actually get something out of my time on the bus.

    Personally, I’m always happy to sit with my eyes closed and look a little bit funny doing so. But if you prefer not to draw attention to yourself, keep your eyes open and simply drop your gaze to a forty-five-degree angle. Now focus on your breath.

    5. Exercise with body and mind.

    Oftentimes when we’re exercising the body thoughts are still ruminating in the mind. Big mistake. Physical exercise can be used as training for both body and mind. All we need to do is focus while we exercise.

    Some exercises are more conducive to this than others. Yoga, tai chi, and Qigong are all excellent mind and body exercises, and running can be another good choice. Other exercises such as weight-lifting and competitive team sports are less appropriate.

    6. Actually watch the TV.

    How often do we have the TV on without actually focusing on it? We’ve got some random show playing in the background while we’re thinking of what to make for dinner or what we have to do at work. This creates a rift between our reality and what’s occurring in the mind. And this is detrimental to mental health.

    When watching the TV, actually set aside an hour or so in which to genuinely watch a show. Focus on the show. And when it is over turn off the TV.

    7. Lie down in body and mind.

    Lying down is, of course, an act of rest. But too often when we lie down we rest the body while still working the mind. How many times have you gone to bed worrying about the next day? Such moments are not genuine rest, and they certainly are not conducive to good sleep.

    When lying down with the body, we should lie down with the mind too. To do this, focus the mind on the body. Focus on the body at rest.

    Begin by focusing on the crown of your head. Notice what sensations are there. Is there any tension? If so, imagine breathing fresh air into that area. The fresh air relaxes. It carries away the tension.

    Once the crown of your head is relaxed, move down to your forehead and repeat the process there.

    Continue one step at a time, progressing through your eyes, nose, mouth, neck and so on, all the way to your feet.

    Your entire body will now be utterly relaxed. Focus on it. Be mindful of your entire body. Particularly be aware of the sense of relaxation. Keep the mind there, your consciousness evenly spread across your whole body.

    This is lying down in mind as well as in body. It is an immensely relaxing experience and one of the best ways of refreshing the mind.

    8. Really listen.

    Everyone loves a good listener, and listening can be an act of mindfulness too. All we need do is pay absolute attention to the person speaking. When doing this, we do not judge their voice or what they are saying, and we do not worry about how we are going to respond; we simply focus on the sound of the other person’s voice.

    9. When working, work.

    Let’s be completely honest, most of us do not focus on work 100% unless the boss is standing next to us. Instead, we’re thinking about how we want to get out of the office, how we’d rather be at home or out having fun. But dreaming about not working while we’re at work simply makes us miserable.

    When we focus the mind 100% on the work we’re doing we come to actually enjoy our jobs. So, when writing, write. When selling, sell. And when listening to that angry customer’s complaints, listen. This will stop work from feeling like a chore and make it a pleasurable, mindful experience.

    10. Listen to the kettle and meditate on the drink.

    As an Englishman, my kettle is turned on far too many times throughout the day, and I do delight in drinking far too much tea. (It’s usually green, so at least I’ve got that going for me.)

    One way to make a cup of tea or coffee even better is to meditate on it. Meditate on the sound of the kettle when it is boiling. Focus on the process of making the tea or coffee. And drink mindfully. This will make you appreciate the drink more, while also increasing present-moment-mindfulness.

    —

    Mindfulness needn’t take time. We can be mindful while doing the things we need to do. And in the process, we can boost our happiness and health without losing time.

    The ten tips we’ve looked at provide ways to boost mindfulness while saving time. And there are many similar tips.

    What is your favorite way of being mindful?

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

    How to Get Out of Your Head and Stop Overthinking Everything

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “Get out of your head!”

    “Don’t overthink everything!”

    “Why do you need to analyze everything??”

    And my personal favorite…

    “It must be exhausting being you.”

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

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

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

    Until I happened upon a new understanding about our thinking.

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

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

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

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

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

    You decide which thoughts you pay attention to.

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

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

    It really is that simple.

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

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

    As with any new habit, persistence is the key.

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

    Most aren’t true. At all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Yup, I choose when to pay attention.

    No exceptions.

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

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

    And one of the things that makes me, me.

  • Take a Chance: Don’t Let Your Inner Saboteur Hold You Back

    Take a Chance: Don’t Let Your Inner Saboteur Hold You Back

    “’It’s impossible,’ said pride. ‘It’s risky,’ said experience. ‘It’s pointless,’ said reason. ‘Give it a try,’ whispered the heart.” ~Unknown

    On my first day back in college, I sat on a bench outside a classroom and wrote in a tiny notebook. Glancing around at the young students lining up, my sunglasses slid down my nose as I hurriedly scribbled the thoughts buzzing around in my head.

    “I’m afraid of being unprepared. I’m afraid of not being smart enough. I’m afraid of being left behind in the coursework. I’m afraid of giving up like I did last time.”

    As evidenced in that journal entry, I was pretty terrified to be back in school.

    I felt too old, too far behind, too unsure of why I was even trying in the first place. Wasn’t it too late to “catch up” anyway? Weren’t all of my friends already done with their bachelors, done even with their graduate degrees, forging careers and buying houses and doing those things that we all say we’ll do when we grow up? Hadn’t I made my bed when I gave up college the first time?

    Really I just knew that it was too late to catch up to the one person I’d been chasing my whole life.

    She was magnificent, really. This person had gone to college when she was “supposed” to, had since forged a meaningful career path, hadn’t wasted years in bad relationships and bad behaviors. She’d chased her dreams and flossed her teeth, run marathons and won awards, had tons of friends and confidence and was now living wealthy and successful and madly in love…

    …all cozied up inside my head.

    That person was the woman I “wished” I was, and she was making my life a living hell. My constant comparison to the ghost life that I should have led would stop me in my tracks as I began to take steps toward goals: You’ll never be who you could have been, so why even try?

    It’s for this reason that my return to school was a surrender of sorts.

    A surrender to my inner perfectionist, the one who told me that if I didn’t do it “perfectly” or at the time other people had done it (whatever “it” was), then I shouldn’t do it at all.

    The perfectionist who told me it was too late, that I would fail, that trying to be successful (like really trying) was the surest way to feel badly in the near future. My inner shame cranker, my saboteur, the voice that was easiest to hear throughout all the static of daily life.

    Signing up for my first college class was waving the white flag at her door. It was saying, “Yes, I am imperfect, things didn’t go the way that I planned, but I may as well try.”

    So I showed up for one class and then two, glancing sideways at my classmates that were often far younger and seemingly more prepared.

    The first few weeks I felt like an awkward dinosaur, struggling to keep up and too nervous to raise my hand in class. As time went on, though, I began to get braver, approaching teachers with questions and relaxing around my classmates.

    When I opened my eyes a little wider I was forced to realize that I wasn’t actually all that different from the other people taking classes. Sure, most were younger, but some were older; some were strikingly intelligent but others were asking me for help. As I kept showing up and diligently doing the assigned work, I found that I actually felt pretty good.

    I liked seeing A’s on my papers, but what I liked even more was the feeling growing inside of me. Each week that I showed up for class was another week that I hadn’t given up; each time I raised my hand was another time I didn’t listen to the voice that told me my question was stupid.

    The weeks flew by and before I knew it, that first semester had passed. I felt like I’d completed my own marathon, the one I was running with myself, and decided to push the finish line a little further away. One more semester became two, then three, and soon I was preparing to transfer to a university.

    My “I-can-do-it” train had gathered steam, and although I would sometimes falter with the difficulty of the courses, the train never totally stopped. My small victories had accumulated for long enough that I began to trust myself: to learn, to grow, to continue.

    It took me longer than four years, but this past June I did in fact graduate.

    As I sat in a stadium surrounded by hundreds of bobbing graduation caps, I took a moment to remember that girl who had sat on a bench outside her first college class. The one who had written about how scared she was, how sure of failing, how inadequate she knew herself to be. I realized that she was the same person sitting in a cap and gown, smiling with excitement and preparing to cross a stage and be handed a diploma.

    The only difference was time spent proving the fearful voice wrong.

    Sure, I’ll never compare to the perfectionist inside of me. She’s definitely still there and she still crops up sometimes, trying to convince me not to take that chance or venture out onto another limb; whispering in my ear that I’m not doing it right and I’m sure to embarrass myself anyway.

    You know what I’ve figured out, though? I don’t have to listen to her. None of us do. (My inner perfectionist gets around. I told you she’s popular, so I’m assuming she’s in your head too.)

    The voices inside all of us no doubt serve a purpose, but sometimes that purpose is just to keep us safe.

    “Don’t take that chance; you could fail” protects our ego from the pain of disappointment. “Don’t expect much from yourself; you aren’t capable” means that we don’t have to get our hopes up. The flip side of that, though, is pushing through those thoughts and doing things anyway.

    Taking that class. Going on that trip around the world. Applying for that job or writing that book or telling someone about an idea you have.

    Not listening to the negative voices in our head begins with first realizing that they’re in there; they’ve often been playing on repeat for so long that they blend in with the soundtrack of our mind. They feel like us, but they’re not: they’re no more us than that ghost life is—the one that we wish we had led, the one that never existed in the first place.

    If there’s one thing that my return to college taught me, it’s that the surest way to drown out the doubt in my head is to put one foot in front of the other and prove it wrong. Thank that doubtful naysayer for her opinion, suggest she get back to being perfect, and go forth with whatever it is that will make this actual life even a little better.

    I’d say it’s time we all did that; bid those lame perfectionists farewell and live the imperfect and real lives that we were actually meant to live anyway.

  • 5 Reasons Why I Tried Mindfulness and How It’s Changed My Life

    5 Reasons Why I Tried Mindfulness and How It’s Changed My Life

    “We have only now, only this single eternal moment opening and unfolding before us, day and night.” ~Jack Kornfield

    Almost two years ago, I kept seeing the word “mindfulness” pop up everywhere I was looking, and I had no clue what it was.

    I kept seeing blog posts with titles like How Mindfulness can Help You at Work¸ How Mindfulness can Help You in Relationships, and How Mindfulness can Help You in the Bedroom.

    Then, I saw a short video explaining mindfulness. It was a monk drinking coffee, and the narrator was talking about how much better the coffee tastes when you think about the beans being grown, the people who harvest the beans, and everything else that goes into making your simple cup of coffee.

    Everything I was seeing from pop-culture blogs made it seem like this thing called mindfulness was this snake oil that could solve all of life’s problems. Although I was skeptical and had no clue what I was getting into, I decided that I was going to keep an open mind and see what mindfulness was all about.

    For me, it was a quick and easy sell from the moment I started practicing because everything just “clicked” for me.

    As someone who tries to encourage everyone to give it a try, I’ve learned that people don’t often have the same experience. So, if you’re someone who is thinking about trying the practice or giving up, I hope this will give you some motivation to keep moving forward.

    1. Time is our most valuable currency, and we can’t waste it.

    In June of 2012, I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure at the age of twenty-six, and the doctors told me there was a slim chance that I’d live more than another year. Well, here we are five years later; I’m alive, and I’ve been able to watch my son grow into an amazing young man. My heart is almost completely back to normal, and it’s blown my doctor’s mind.

    With this second chance at life, I made a commitment to myself that I was going to experience every day to its fullest with a goal to waste as little time as possible, because tomorrow isn’t promised.

    I know, my situation is a little bit more extreme than most, but I believe this is something we can all get behind. We’ve all had unexpected tragedy in our life from losing a job, a relationship, or a loved one. Since tomorrow isn’t promised, we need to make the most of today. I thought that this was exactly what I was doing until I discovered mindfulness.

    When I took my first course on mindfulness, some questions started to come up that I had never even asked myself because I didn’t realize they were questions that needed to be asked.

    • When was the last time I sat in awareness of simply noticing gravity keeping me grounded on Earth?
    • My breath happens twenty-four hours a day, seven days per week, but how often do I notice it?
    • How many times do I drive from point A to point B without noticing one part of my experience because I’m stuck in my head?

    These last five years I thought I was making the most of each day, but there was so much that I was missing. I mindlessly drive to work, eat food, have conversations, and engage mindlessly in many other situations. Mindfulness helps keep me fully present and engaged with as many moments in my life so I don’t miss anything.

    2. Mindfulness is backed by science.

    I’ve been an extremely skeptical person my entire life. Maybe it stems from the trust issues I developed as a kid. My father always taught me that if it sounds like it’s too good to be true, it usually is.

    In order to sell me on trying anything new, I need some very clear-cut evidence and scientifically backed research that this thing is going to work. Like I said, my time is extremely valuable to me, so I’m not going to waste my time trying something that doesn’t have any evidence to back it up.

    Around the same time that I discovered mindfulness, I also learned that I’m fascinated by neuroscience. One of the most interesting parts of the brain is the prefrontal cortex. While it’s the youngest part, it also has some of the most important responsibilities, including:

    • Emotional regulation
    • Impulse control
    • Body regulation
    • Making logical decisions
    • Empathy
    • Connectedness to others
    • Self-awareness

    The problem with us as humans is that our limbic system (our primitive instincts to react) often overrides the prefrontal cortex. However, scientific evidence shows that a regular mindfulness practice helps strengthen that part of the brain.

    Basically, if I wanted to get stronger biceps, I know which weight-lifting exercises I could do. If I wanted to increase my stamina, I’d probably do some cardio. So, if I want to improve all of the abilities listed above, I should practice mindfulness because it strengthens the prefrontal cortex. I can debate with the best of them, but I’ll never argue against scientific evidence.

    3. My mind is a boat without an anchor.

    I am one of those people with a mind that never stops. This is something that I’ve dealt with since I was a kid. I don’t think it’s any form of ADD, but I have a brain that’s constantly planning, coming up with new ideas, and trying to find solutions to problems.

    This is a gift and a curse. The way my mind works has helped me excel at many different jobs because my brain is wired to always think about how I can improve what I’m doing. The issue is that there’s a time and a place for this, and when I’m in the middle of a conversation or doing an important project with a mind that takes off, it can get me into a bit of trouble.

    I also noticed that sometimes my mind would end up in the weirdest places sometimes. I could be sitting at my desk at work, and after zoning out for a few minutes, for some reason I’m thinking about a scene from a 90s TV show, and I’m wondering how I got there. It’s like driving your car to buy groceries and somehow ending up at the park and thinking, “How on earth did I get here?”

    I always thought that I was one of the only people this happened to, but it’s extremely common. Our brains have tens of thousands of thoughts per day, and my mindfulness taught me that’s alright. It becomes a problem when we don’t notice where our thoughts are taking us.

    By using different anchors like my breath or anchor words like “thinking,” I’m able to catch my thoughts drifting sooner rather than later.

    I often say that instead of my mind taking me five hundred miles off of its course, now it only takes me about five miles off course.

    This has also allowed me to find humor in my own thoughts, which helps me out incredibly with self-esteem issues.

    I have a brain that can quickly turn an anthill into a mountain. For example, maybe I said, “Good morning!” to the receptionist when I arrived at work, and she didn’t reply. My mind used to start over-analyzing that situation immediately with thoughts like “Maybe she’s mad at me,” “I wonder what I did wrong,” and “I wonder if I’m about to get fired because nobody here likes me.”

    My mind used to take a hard turn to the off-ramp leading to crazy town, but now I can catch it and simply giggle to myself about where my mind went to.

    4. Mindfulness helps you deal with emotions in a new way.

    One of my mindfulness instructors discussed how nobody teaches us, when we’re children, that life and emotions can be intense, and I immediately related to him in that aspect. My emotional regulation has been off since I was a child. I don’t just feel things; I FEEL things.

    I think of my emotions as being on a line that goes from -10 to +10 with 0 being in the middle. Whenever I felt anything, positive or negative, it was always at a -10 or +10, and both of these can hurt me.

    Learning about mindfulness taught me what equanimity means, and that’s something I knew that I needed in my life. I always had issues not just getting sad, but getting depressed. I wouldn’t get worried; I’d get anxiety. I wouldn’t get angry; I’d get furious. And whenever I started to like someone, I’d fall head over heels in love with them.

    My other issue was that my expectations would cause me to cling to optimism at a +10, and if the situation didn’t pan out, I’d fall to a -10 because I was up too high.

    The Buddhist teaching talks about how grasping can lead to suffering, and it made sense. I would grasp at emotions whether they were positive or negative. In both situations, this was like holding onto a hot coal for far too long.

    Maybe I was letting something from earlier in my day ruin the rest of my day. Maybe the exciting plans I had for after work was distracting me from getting my job done. Mindfulness helps me simply notice what my emotion is, and let it be exactly what it is in that moment.

    This is easier said than done with good emotions, but what about the bad ones? The practice also teaches me about impermanence and that no negative emotion is going to last forever.

    Now, I’m able to sit with my emotion and turn toward it and accept it. I can see my emotion as a leaf that’s gently floating down a stream past me. Knowing that my negative emotion will eventually pass allows me to embrace it without trying to resist what I’m experiencing in that very moment.

    5. It helps my son.

    As a parent, we’re always looking for something to do with our children, and mindfulness is something that helps me be a parent and helps my son manage his thoughts and emotions. I was practicing for about six months when I realized how beneficial it would be for my son to begin practicing with me.

    We were on vacation in Southern California visiting my best friend. On the last day of the trip, we took my son to the boardwalk, which was full of everything that he loved. He could play video games at the arcade, eat some boardwalk junk food, and spend time at the beach. Unfortunately, he was having a very bad day, which started as an attitude problem and evolved into him breaking down in tears.

    I had been trying everything to cheer him up on this last day of our vacation, but nothing was working. I thought maybe he was hungry, so we got food. My head told me he was being ungrateful, which can trigger my negative reactions. I thought maybe we were doing too many adult things, so we tried the arcade, but that didn’t work. What was wrong?

    He was tired, but he didn’t realize it.

    My son was seven at this time, and I have to remember that he doesn’t have the knowledge or experience that I do.

    Everything he’s experiencing is new for him, and not only is it difficult for him to communicate his feelings to me, but oftentimes he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. When we finally sat down and took a minute, he explained that he was extremely tired and he didn’t sleep the night before.

    As soon as we returned from that trip, I started teaching him mindfulness, and I’ve seen him change so much over the last nine months. He’s able to identify his emotions much sooner, and he has his own tools to calm himself down.

    He realizes when he’s worried about the future, and he uses his breath to come back to the moment. He loves doing loving/kindness practices and sending kind thoughts to his little brother, friends, family and sometimes complete strangers. He even did a presentation on mindfulness for his 2nd grade project!

    I thought that I was happy and content with life before, but my life has grown exponentially better with my consistent practice. Each day, I learn more about myself as well as life.

    If I ever stopped growing from my practice, I’d probably stop, but my experience as well as the experience of others shows me that we continue to grow each day. So, whether you’re at a lull in your practice or thinking about trying mindfulness, just keep moving forward toward enlightenment.

  • Watch Me Dance: Why I Stopped Playing Small and Hiding from Life

    Watch Me Dance: Why I Stopped Playing Small and Hiding from Life

    “There is no passion to be found in playing small—in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” ~Nelson Mandela

    When I was a kid I’d get up early on Saturday mornings to start my routine, which ended with a few hours in front of the television watching my favorite shows. After the cartoons came dance shows featuring the popular musical acts of the time. I’m in love with music and I have been all of my life, so these shows in particular excited me and made me feel like dancing with joy—and I did!

    I always had a great deal of energy. I loved riding my bicycle, playing hide-and-go-seek with my friends, and dancing. Despite always being overweight (since weighing in at eleven pounds at birth), I still managed to keep up rather well with my smaller, super active peers.

    Warm weather meant lots of outdoor activities, and I even looked forward to physical education class, particularly when we could exercise outside.

    School provided a new, tougher atmosphere for me, though. There were always “those other kids” who would remind me of my weight in the midst of my fun times on the slide or running around the school yard.

    I thought they were mean and hurtful just because they didn’t know me. If they knew how I loved to laugh and sing and dance and play, they’d surely be my friends too, right? Maybe not.

    I remember the first time words from one of “those other kids“ changed how I felt inside. It was the first time I knew the power of words—unfortunately, at the time, being used for harm.

    The feeling confused me at that age and was the first crack in my inner mirror. Being teased back then changed my energy and altered the bliss that I felt when I was ignorant about how much someone’s words could hurt. “Those other kids” wanted me to feel bad and I didn’t understand that. Even worse, I changed how I viewed myself.

    That crack remained as I absorbed those words and brought them home with me. It became a full break when some of those words hit home for me there.

    On this particular Saturday, I was watching my shows and I proceeded to dance as if I was in the studio with the others. I turned up the volume and shimmied and shook as if the camera was headed my way next.

    My oldest sister came in and said a few things that I wasn’t paying much attention to because I was focused on my performance. Then she blurted out, “…and sit down! You’re too big to be dancing around like that!”

    Her words tore through me like a knife. I loved my big sister. She was mean sometimes and I didn’t like when she didn’t want me around, of course, but when she was nice, she was really nice, and when I could be around her I loved it. But now she sounded like “those other kids.” And she knew me. She was my friend already.

    I remember slowly finishing my dance and then turning off the television.

    I haven’t danced so freely in the forty years since.

    That message remained as I grew but took on a different voice—mine. I would quietly analyze all of the experiences that I felt I was “too big for” and find clever ways to avoid fully engaging and participating.

    In junior high, I was a girls’ basketball team manager who filled water bottles and recorded stats instead of trying out to play for the team.

    I was in my high school band, but learned to play a different instrument when competition became too stiff in my section.

    At work, I was always the one who worked harder, faster, better, but remained passive when I wasn’t promoted or considered for salary increases.

    Even socially, I usually sought the company of those with larger, louder personalities that were easier to hide behind. Many opportunities to step on life’s stage culminated in paralyzing stage fright fueled by negative self-talk and overall feelings of inadequacy.

    I minimized the rest of myself because my body wasn’t minimal.

    Many years had passed before I realized that repeating negative messages to myself drastically lessened my effect. My own cruel inner voice did much more damage than anyone else’s words ever could.

    As an adult, my weight struggles continue. But I now have a greater understanding of the life-altering power of words heard from others, and also those I speak to myself. There is no other voice as important as my own. I had to go back to the basics to get that, though, and on that journey found even more.

    Along with “doing unto others as I’d have them do unto me,” I also strive to do and speak unto myself what I want done and spoken by others. I know now that the “selfs”—self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-worth, along with self-acceptance—truly are inside jobs. Cracked or broken mirrors still show you a beautiful reflection when you stand in the right position of self-awareness.

    Self-awareness came to me through a great deal of self-assessment. I’d mistakenly taken on the opinions of others as my own, but as I matured emotionally and spiritually, I knew I didn’t need to see myself through their lens. And I knew I didn’t want to, because in hiding to avoid showcasing my flaws, I ended up concealing my gifts.

    I also realized we’re all quite similar. We all have things we’d rather hide, and we’ve all been on the receiving end of unfair judgment at some point in time, if not for our bodies, for something else.

    I no longer compared myself to others when I realized that each one of us is human, fallible, and flawed. With that realization, I stopped punishing myself for my imperfections and mistakes and decided not to hold myself back because of them. Maintaining perspective helped me stop being overly affected by condemnation or praise from others and highly critical of myself.

    I found it most important that I spoke well of and felt good about who I was becoming.

    Though quite simplistic, the full grasp of this awareness allowed me to see myself and others differently. It began my path to self-acceptance and “those others” became people in need of acceptance, as well.

    I’d spent decades spackling and caulking my ego after being hurt both intentionally and not, by others and myself. It has been a steady chore to find just the spot that enables me to see clearly my own image, but, through acceptance, I finally do.

    I’m excited about who stares back at me now with the same simple joys as that free-spirited girl on a Saturday morning.

    Now, I make sure having great energy is my goal. I try to put it in my words to live harmoniously with myself and others.

    I take steps to speak from love and remain aware of my intention.

    I’m a devoted relative, thoughtful friend, and compassionate, respectful person. I love hard, smile continually in gratitude, and have joy in my spirit so my very soul tends to dance. It’s too big not to.

  • Letting Go of the Worry That Weighs Us Down

    Letting Go of the Worry That Weighs Us Down

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    And it’s no different in life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    So how do you lessen the weight of others?

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

    They cannot become yours unless you allow it.

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

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

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

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

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

    Worry is not an emotion of the present.

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

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

    However, we do it all the time.

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

    Sometimes all that weight just needs another place to reside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    After that, the fear lost its hold over me.

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

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

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

    That false sense of control was my positive payout.

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

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

    —

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

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

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

  • What I Learned from Loving the “Wrong Person” and Why I Don’t Regret It

    What I Learned from Loving the “Wrong Person” and Why I Don’t Regret It

    “Some people come into your life for a reason, some a season, and some a lifetime. However long it was, be thankful for the gifts you received from them.” ~Unknown

    When I first met him, we instantly clicked. We became fast friends aided by the fact that I was dealing with my father’s death and he was by my side whenever I needed someone. He was empathetic, easy to talk to, and very open. I related to him immediately.

    Early on, it became clear to me that while we were friends, we would not make a good romantic pair. We had extremely opposing political views and philosophies on life, as well as different communication styles.

    For example, in the beginning we would get in arguments about religion. I consider myself spiritual, but I am not very religious. He would constantly try to get me to have religious conversations with him. From my point of view, it felt as if he was trying to push his beliefs on me. It was exhausting. I didn’t feel respected or heard in my spiritual journey.

    I also felt like he was a different person, depending on what group he was with, which made me uneasy. I try to be authentically me wherever I am, and I love who I am. As he shifted personalities, it was very confusing to me. It made me wonder, “Who are you really?”

    My friends shook their heads, telling me he wasn’t good for me. “Angela, he is too judgmental,” they’d say. “I just feel like there is something very off about him; he makes me nervous.”

    As I got to know him better I suspected that one reason for his behavior was that he had previously been involved in an extremely toxic relationship. In fact, it was so dysfunctional that law enforcement got involved.

    It made me ponder, “Do I really want to be with someone who attracts this kind of relationship into their life?” But I stuck by him during that time because he had been so present in my life when my father passed. I believed he deserved the same thing from me.

    On the day he kissed me, things started to get fuzzy. When we were alone, things felt very relationship-y. However, when were in our regular environment, we acted like best friends. I told myself that I could balance the division, but I couldn’t.

    I started to shove the multitude of reasons we shouldn’t be together under the rug, only to take them out occasionally to shame myself for wanting to be with him.

    As the months passed by and our weird relationship continued, I realized I was starting to have authentic feelings for him. I was wearing rose-colored glasses and only saw the good parts of him, but I still didn’t feel right about the nature of our relationship.

    One morning it finally hit me. I’d had a dream that he slapped me across the face. In the dream, I was sobbing, begging him for forgiveness as I held my hand over my black eye. I woke up crying because the dream felt so real. While in “real” life he had never physically hurt me, I realized I was feeling disrespected emotionally by him and myself. I knew I had to make a change.

    I broke things off with him about a week after that. It was beyond difficult. He was mature about it and apologized for his part in the ordeal, but it was not the route I wanted to go. So many parts of me wanted to go on acting like nothing was wrong, but my heart knew that it wasn’t a path I could travel any longer.

    While loving someone “who is not right for you” can be painful, you can also find some amazing lessons. Love isn’t always meant to stay forever. Sometimes it only stays for a season, but that doesn’t make it any less beautiful or valuable. Here’s what I learned from my relationship.

    1. Sometimes even when we know something won’t necessarily end well, we still have to go through it.

    When we took our relationship to the next level, I knew in my gut that this was likely not going end in a happy way. I would never change to be the agreeable, conservatively Christian girl he wanted to date and eventually marry. My mentor told me. My sister told me. My friends told me. But, I still wanted to go through it. Why do we this?

    I remember talking to a therapist a few years ago about this phenomenon. She said, “Honey, we aren’t here on this earth to rise above life. We are here to walk through the mud. The magic is in the mess.” We learn our lessons by going through intense life experiences, not by skipping through them.

    2. We need to release the shame.

    This goes along with lesson one. Shame is such a tricky emotion, and one I wrestle with daily. I felt so much shame for having feelings for someone I knew in my heart was not the best person for me. I would beat myself up constantly. I realized that if I wanted to move on I had to stop putting myself down. Shame was keeping me stuck.

    To release the shame, I would talk to myself like I would talk to my best friend. My best friend went through a similar situation this past summer and I always told her, “Honey, I don’t know if this is going to end well and this doesn’t look healthy. However, if this is what you need to go through for your growth, I will be here to hold your hand and catch you when you fall.”

    After she moved on from the situation, she told me how much this meant to her. “You were the only friend who didn’t judge me. You acknowledged my journey. It helped me move on a lot faster to have someone accept me exactly where I was.”

    In this case, I needed to be my best friend. I wish that in the past, I would have metaphorically taken my own hand and told myself that I would be there for myself through the mess. I needed to do that for me.

    3. Giving and receiving love are natural human needs.

    I realized that part of the reason I’d chosen to be with this man was that I wanted to give and receive love. That’s a beautiful thing. I love loving people romantically. It feels great, and when it was just us, living in the present moment, it was a beautiful experience.

    On the flip side, I do believe it’s important that give your love to someone who can receive it with a pure intention. I recently saw a quote by Lisa Chase Patterson, “I always say, never sleep with someone you wouldn’t want to be.” I wholeheartedly agree with Lisa, but I believe it goes deeper. Don’t give your heart romantically to someone you don’t want to be.

    4. Acknowledge the dark parts in yourself and love them.

    I have been involved in mindfulness studies since I was sixteen. I hold myself to a high standard and want to be an example of a mindful being, but I am still human.

    There are still parts of me that seek love out of neediness and wanting to be accepted. There are parts of me that are attracted to fixing people and feeling in control. While I have worked through a lot of pain and trauma in my life, there’s also still this little girl inside of me who wants everyone’s approval. These are parts of myself that I work on daily, but I have to be patient with myself.

    Lots of times we attach to beliefs about ourselves at a very young age and we have to peel them away layer by layer. It can take a long time. Patience is required. However, I think this process is what makes it beautiful. Life is not a race; it’s a journey.

    While this love story will not end in a relationship status update on Facebook or a proposal, it ended with some beautiful memories and some even more extraordinary lessons. I realized I don’t regret our kisses. I don’t regret sharing my secrets with him. And I especially don’t regret loving him. Instead, I choose to be grateful for how the relationship helped me grow.

  • Learning How to Confront Someone When You’re a People-Pleaser

    Learning How to Confront Someone When You’re a People-Pleaser

    “The more room you give yourself to express your true thoughts and feelings, the more room there is for your wisdom to emerge.” ~Marianne Williamson

    I have always been a people-pleaser, a trait that on the surface seems positive. Like many of us, I want people to like me, and I do my best to make them feel loved. But when someone is angry with me or feels I’ve hurt them in some way, no matter how insignificant or fleeting that anger or pain is, it crushes me.

    Over the years, I learned to value other people’s happiness and expectations over my own. To be honest, I didn’t know how to speak up for myself, I’d been trying to be “likable” for so long. This was especially true at work. If my boss criticized me, I felt I was letting her down, and worked diligently to earn praise.

    I became dependent on accolades to feel worthy, but this meant I also plummeted into despair when I didn’t measure up to expectations.

    A couple of years ago, I was working at a non-profit with a group of people I truly respected and admired. It was my dream job—I was a publicist for a company that was doing good things in the world, not just trying to make money. I loved this job, and worked hard.

    Eventually, I was offered a promotion—a management position, overseeing staff and developing strategy. I was thrilled! This was a tangible acknowledgement of how hard I’d worked, how valuable I’d become.

    There were strings attached. The department heads wanted me to continue doing my old job since they didn’t have the budget to hire another person.

    I was flattered that my bosses wanted to give me more responsibilities (proving my worth). But I also knew the organization was taking advantage of me by not hiring someone to help, and this was difficult for me to accept and address directly. If they really liked and respected me, how could they think this was a fair offer? I was asked to do two jobs for the price of one.

    It gutted me. After all my hard work, I knew I deserved more.

    But these are good people, I reminded myself. Surely there’s something I’m overlooking. Am I unworthy of more?

    I felt my self-esteem plummet.

    It took a few days for me to realize I had to stand up for myself. Nobody else was going to do it. My bosses, who I’d come to see as friends, were taking advantage of me and my people-pleasing approach.

    To make things worse, this job was my livelihood. I didn’t know how quickly I could get another job, so it was frightening to think about confronting them. How would it end? Would they fire me if I turned them down? How could I support myself?

    I was terrified, but I knew I had to say something. Even if I struggled to find another job, I knew this was a test of my self-esteem. I couldn’t live with myself if I’d just gone along with their plans, pretending it was okay. I had to rise to the occasion no matter how uncomfortable I felt.

    I was trembling as I met with my supervisors, the four of us sitting around a table in a sterile conference room. I thought these familiar faces were my advocates, but now I saw that I had to advocate for myself.

    I talked about my responsibilities, how hard I’d worked, how much I loved the organization and the people. I asked that they hire another person and offer me a decent raise, or I wouldn’t accept the new position.

    “I suggest you reconsider,” one of them said. “It’s a great opportunity for you.”

    I was shocked. An opportunity?

    “I need more help if you want me to stay,” I insisted.

    “We’re offering you a great career move. Are you saying you don’t want a promotion?”

    I felt numb. They were trying to wear me down, to make me feel like this was a positive. But I knew better. I didn’t want to work two jobs when the hours were long enough, and they refused to negotiate.

    When I realized I’d have to accept their terms or quit, the fear kicked into high gear. Would I be able to get another job in this economy? How would I support myself? It was my ego shouting, trying to take control and remind me that I needed this job, and this paycheck. But my gut knew better. I didn’t “need” to stay, and a paycheck wasn’t worth my sense of self. I knew that it might take a while, but I could find another job.

    When our meeting ended, I walked back to my desk and typed up my resignation. Nobody stopped me or tried to convince me to stay when I announced my departure.

    Strangely, I was relieved. By deciding to confront the situation and my supervisors directly, I’d let go of my burning desire to live up to their unreasonable expectations. Instead, I saw myself and the situation more clearly.

    If they weren’t willing to see my value, I had to honor it myself, even if it meant confronting people I liked and admired. I learned that confrontation, though still difficult for me to do, was just as healthy as being kind.

    Soon after I quit, I was able to find work. In fact, leaving that job opened up opportunities I wasn’t aware of, because I hadn’t been looking. I now have a steady stream of freelance assignments, as well as more time to dedicate to other passions of mine, like traveling, hiking, and writing a novel.

    Here’s what I’ve learned about dealing with conflict:

    Asserting myself is a healthy practice.

    We all deserve an equal playing field. When I speak up for myself, it means I’m honoring my needs, too. When I’m going to extremes trying to please others, I get resentful, whether I realize it in the moment or not. Over time, this resentment interferes with my relationships. When I create healthy boundaries with someone in my life, I’m doing both of us a favor.

    It might be uncomfortable in the moment.

    Confronting someone is never easy, especially a friend, family member, or someone in a position of power over you (like a boss). It might make me squirm and feel terrible in the moment, but in the long run, I have felt such relief. I’ve taken the silent burden off of me, so I can feel more peaceful. The positives outweigh the negatives.

    I must look past my fear.

    When we face big risks in life like potential unemployment or the end of a relationship, fear kicks into high gear. When fear overwhelms me, I like to step back and look at the situation from an outsider’s perspective.

    If a good friend told me she was going through the same experience, what would I say? No doubt I’d support her in advocating for herself, so I should take my own advice. No matter the result, it’s worth the risk to honor ourselves.

    It is impossible to please everyone anyway.

    This is a hard lesson for me. I have a deep desire for people to understand who I am; that what I do and say comes from a good place. However, this isn’t realistic. There are always going to be people who don’t like me, who misunderstand me. It is not my job to make them feel differently about me; that is completely up to them. What I can do is treat people with respect and kindness and let go of the outcome.

    Confrontation isn’t about hurting someone else; it’s about standing in my power.

    The ability to confront ultimately comes down to an issue of self-esteem. Because I was trying to gain acceptance and love, I was at the mercy of external circumstances to feel worthy. Now I see that I have to accept my own worthiness no matter what.

    We are all worthy. We are all lovable. And we are all responsible for creating boundaries to honor our worth. This I know is true.

  • 4 Ways to Get Your Mind Off Yourself and Replace Worry with Joy

    4 Ways to Get Your Mind Off Yourself and Replace Worry with Joy

    “The only way to be truly happy is to get your mind off yourself and help somebody else.” ~Joyce Meyer

    A couple of years ago, I was dealing with two major life changes at the same time.

    The first change was that my husband and I moved from Maryland to Delaware after our son finished high school. And though the distance wasn’t far (about a three-hour drive from my parents’ house in Washington, D.C.), I had grown up in D.C. and this marked the first time I had ever moved away from that area.

    The second change was that our son was heading off to college and I would have to learn to navigate life without him being physically with me.

    I remember a time when he was in first grade and I was so busy dealing with work that I forgot to pack his lunch. When I picked him up from school, he climbed into the backseat and said, “You forgot to send my lunch today.” And while other kids who had paid for lunch got hot dogs, my son told me he didn’t get one.

    I immediately burst into tears from guilt and the thought of him being hungry all day. He said, “Mom! It’s okay. There will be other hot dogs!” And he was right. It certainly wasn’t the end of the world, but I sometimes think of that incident because it sums up how much I want to protect him from everything that could go wrong.

    In the midst of these life changes, my anxiety levels were at an all-time high. Every morning I woke up with a racing heart and an overwhelming sense of losing control. I was getting used to living in a small town, faced with making new friends, and missing our son all at the same time.

    Then one day, I heard Joyce Meyer say something that helped me put things in perspective and propelled me to take charge of my life in a way that I had never done before. The simple advice: Get your mind off yourself and start focusing on others, and see how that makes you feel.

    I was willing to try it. And sure enough, it didn’t take long before I began waking up feeling calm and refreshed.

    The heart palpitations subsided, and I embarked on a path of acceptance—acceptance that change is a natural part of life, that we raise kids to be independent and go off on their own, which meant it was okay that I had moved away from my hometown and it was also okay that my son was leaving for college.

    I also accepted the fact that I’m not supposed to be in control of everything in the universe anyway. What a relief!

    Here are four tips that worked for me.

    Tip #1: Spend time with children.

    One of the first things I did was sign up to help kids with reading and other homework at the Boys & Girls Club in our area—one afternoon a week after I finished work.

    I looked forward to it because it was energizing to see the kids make progress with their reading skills over time. Kids also are masters at living in the present moment. One minute, kids argue and the next minute they share cookies. Adults need more of that forgiving spirit.

    And the laughter—kids laugh and laugh with wild abandon. Their antics always brought me joy, and I hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time. I admired their ability to play, let loose, and have fun.

    Tip #2: Accept a new challenge.

    When a friend invited me to join her in leading the kids at church in song and dance for Vacation Bible School, I wasn’t so sure at first. Could my brain even learn the material? But I decided to take on the challenge and worked hard at learning the words, hand motions, and dance moves for five songs.

    We were charged with demonstrating the songs during the week of Vacation Bible School so that the kids could follow along. This meant lots or preparation beforehand—watching videos and practicing dance steps over and over.

    If I slid into worrying about my son or other negative thoughts, I could pull up a video, practice a song, and fill my brain with inspirational messages. And I surprised myself because I did learn. Then when Vacation Bible School rolled around, it was so inspiring to see all the kids’ excitement at learning all the songs and dance moves.

    Tip #3: Volunteer for a cause that’s close to your heart.

    One day I came across a newspaper article about a beach home in my area that serves as a place where families dealing with cancer can have a place of respite and enjoy family fun time. It’s meant to be a place of joy and peace at the beach, and it truly is.

    I think it especially caught my attention because the family that launched the beach home did so in honor of their son, who died of a brain tumor while he was in college. During his illness, he had been happy to have the beach as an escape, and his family wanted to pass on that feeling to others.

    There is a great group of volunteers who take turns greeting the families when they come to stay at the beach for a week. I was immediately drawn in to this wonderful cause and joined the effort.

    Tip #4: Join a group class.

    I have always loved ballet and took classes as a child. So when I signed up for an adult ballet class near my home, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. What I found was pure joy as I met each week in the studio with other women and danced all my worries away as we moved along to fabulous music.

    Nobody cared how high you could lift your leg. It was all about moving and having fun. There’s something about a group class that heightens your awareness of others around you. We all had the same goals and tried to stay in step with the music. We even had recitals where we performed in small groups for an audience. We all worked together so that the group could succeed. And for an added bonus, I met some of my best friends in that class.

    —

    I’ve learned that getting my mind off myself frees me to not only pay more attention to the needs of others, but also to take action to connect with them and help them. Less time dwelling on my fears means more time practicing compassion and making a difference. I believe that’s what a positive, meaningful life is all about.

  • How to Deal When You Feel Frustrated and Hopeless

    How to Deal When You Feel Frustrated and Hopeless

    “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” ~Victor Hugo

    Last year, my life was in ruins.

    I had to visit two different hospitals almost every day of the week. At noon, I’d watch my grandmother suffering on her deathbed. In the evening, I’d sit beside a close friend who’d fallen off a building, broken his spine, and couldn’t even go to the toilet on his own.

    All the while, I was toiling in the dark every night until the sun rose. I needed to save my career, which was on the verge of complete failure.

    Nothing seemed to be working for me. My life was hopeless. Worse, being a natural introvert with few friends, I had no one to turn to. I couldn’t even find one person to share my burden with.

    Every day was a struggle. I would take one step forward and two steps back. I was stuck. I was losing my strength to inch forward because I realized nothing I did would ever work.

    I thought I was destined to be homeless and lonely till the day I die (which I thought was not that far off, by the way). There was no way out.

    I know things may be hard for you too. Perhaps, like me, you march on to fight the same battle each morning only to end up losing every time. You may feel defeated, hopeless, and depressed every night.

    All this frustration and agony drives you insane. You wish you could scream at the top of your lungs and just quit.

    But I got through the darkest time of my life to date. While I’m sure a much darker and harder time awaits me, I am not afraid anymore. Even if it comes, I am confident I can smile at it from my heart, because now I know, from experience, how to properly deal with it.

    1. Don’t try to stop feeling hopeless in any way, not even by meditating.

    If you feel defeated and sad, don’t force yourself to feel otherwise.

    Whatever you’re feeling is a huge rolling snowball. Fighting it in your head is like trying to stop the snowball by throwing more snow at it. Instead of stopping it, you only make it bigger and faster.

    Likewise, you are giving too much importance to your hopelessness if you try to fight it directly with your mind. You are only feeding into its momentum.

    You might think meditation is the key to feeling better, but it can’t help you numb your emotions. I know because I’m an experienced meditator and I’ve fall into this trap.

    When I was struggling, I tried everything to make the pain go away: walking meditation, observing my emotions and thoughts, focusing on my breath. The result? I felt worse.

    Why? When you try to get rid of an emotion, you are actually just wrestling with the emotion in your head.

    When you meditate not for the sake of it but to stop a certain feeling, it’s no longer meditation. It becomes just another vain attempt to suppress your emotions.

    2. Engage your mind by doing what’s fun, not what’s right.

    Don’t dwell on the hopelessness. You need to do things to get you out of your head and into your body.

    And no, you are not going to do anything purely to suppress your emotions. It doesn’t work. Instead, do things because you like to do them.

    What do you do for fun? What do you do to relax? What you normally do when you feel bored?

    Don’t force yourself to do anything just because somebody says it’s good for you. Not even me. Running is good, no doubt. But what’s the point of forcing yourself to run if you hate every second of it?

    Discover which activities are fun and engaging to you personally. These activities engage your mind and body the most, and they can take you into the present most effectively.

    Make any healthy choice that makes you feel better. Watch TV, eat a little dark chocolate, play video games, surf the Internet; just be sure to stay away from drugs and alcohol, which will only make things worse.

    Me? I did things I’ve never done before: downloading an addictive mobile game, eating fatty foods (in moderation), and reading YA novels (blush).

    Balance your life with some truly relaxing “you” time. This is the time where you take all expectations off. No self-improvement, no studying, no work, no meditation. Nothing. Just play and do whatever calls to you. This is what self-care really is.

    When you do this, you completely disengage yourself from your overwhelming sense of hopelessness. And while the snowball will still roll on in the background, it will end sooner or later because you won’t be feeding into its momentum anymore.

    This is how you really stop resisting your emotions and thoughts. This is how you really let go.

    3. Put your worries on paper.

    When you are hopeless and worried, you live in your head. You keep reminding yourself of the same hopeless future projections again and again.

    When your worries exist in thought form, you can never solve them. Problems look bigger than they really are. This is why often we turn a small problem in to a big one.

    Just sit down for a moment. Take time and write down all your problems on paper. When you do this, you stop dwelling on them because you can physically see them with your eyes. Problems will become real objects you can analyze and solve hands-on.

    And even if a problem still looks huge, you can now break in down into smaller and easier chunks—something you wouldn’t be able to do in your head entirely.

    4. Create your destiny, starting with your dishes.

    You can’t expect a deus ex machina.

    Sure, luck plays a huge part in our lives. But when you are stuck in a rut, you have to save yourself. Even if you can’t, you still have to take action to ask for help. Things will not miraculously get better on their own. Dwelling and sulking are not going to make your seemingly hopeless life any better.

    I understand it’s very hard to take action when you feel depressed or frustrated with life. But taking action is your only way out. The good news is you are not stuck. Your life isn’t hopeless. You can actually get up and start moving again quite easily. Here’s how:

    Once you’ve written your worries down, target the easiest problem you can solve without much effort. To make things even easier, break that already easy problem into extremely small chunks and work through it one step at a time.

    Say you are feeling hopeless about your failing career, just like I was. But as you brainstorm your problems, you discover many other trivial problems, such as a faulty computer, a messy room, or even a pile of unwashed dishes.

    This is good. For now, forget about your career and work on the small problems first.

    Why? Because if you got yourself a good computer, you may work more efficiently. If you now have a tidy room, you’ll be calmer and more relaxed. You’ll sleep better. This gives you more energy and focus with your career, too.

    The truth is, anything you do will begin a positive upward cycle. The more trivial (but related) problems you work on, the easier your bigger problems will become. So take some pressure off, and just focus on tackling that one tiny and easy task at hand.

    The Biggest Secret That’ll Get You through The Darkest of Times

    I am not going to lie; eventually, you will face a challenge that will be your last one—we all will. But likely not this time. This will not be the end. Think of all the struggles and hardships you’ve gone through. No matter how vividly painful and traumatic they were, you somehow managed to get through.

    On the outside, you may look weak and worn-down. But I know that deep inside you are a strong soul. And I know that just like before, you will survive, and you will become even stronger because of it, just like I did.

    So don’t worry. Don’t even worry about trying not to worry. Whatever happens, just remember the only thing that matters is the process. Ignore the urge to fight your feelings and focus on finding your own balance between action and self-care.

    If it helps, remind yourself this daily:

    “As long as I am consistently taking care of myself and taking tiny steps to create positive change, I will come out a better and wiser person in the end.”

    And then, put all your trust into yourself and in your actions. Believe what you do will get you out of this nightmare. This is the biggest secret that will get you through the darkest of times.

    I trust you. And I want you to trust yourself. When you do, not only will you truly let go, but you will also be able to look at your difficult life and smile from your heart, because you know victory will be yours in the end.