Tiny Buddha

Category: Blog

  • 4 Things I’d Say to My Anxiety-Filled Younger Self

    4 Things I’d Say to My Anxiety-Filled Younger Self

    Drug user fear

    “I vow to let go of all worries and anxiety in order to be light and free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    As I sit here writing this, I’m just a couple of days away from my twenty-eighth birthday.

    It’s been a whole decade since an introverted, shy version of me turned eighteen years old and entered into the realms of what many people consider to be “adult age.”

    Back then, anxiety, specifically social anxiety, plagued me.

    At the time, however, I’d never even heard of anxiety, let alone considered that I may be suffering with this thing that could be termed a “mental illness.” Truth be told, I just thought I was a bit weird.

    I thought it was just who I was. And that the uncontrollable sweating whenever I left the house, the monumental nervousness before having to go into any social situation, the sick feeling before making any phone call, and the continual worry of what might happen in the future was just an annoying part of me that I’d have to live with for the rest of my life.

    The decade that followed, though, brought some huge life lessons. I graduated from college, got my first full-time job, left said job, started several businesses (failing at most), became obsessed with health, nutrition, and fitness, met the love of my life, and traveled to various parts of the world.

    But around eighteen months ago, I left the personal training business I was miserable in and became obsessed with spirituality, personal development, and understanding my own brain.

    I wanted to know why I’d been on this journey so far, yet still felt completely worthless as a human being and filled with panic about what people thought of me or what might happen in the future.

    It was during this time I did monumental amounts of reading, inward reflection, and deep inner work in order to truly get to know what was going on inside of me. I got to understand who I was and connect with myself at a level I didn’t previously think was possible.

    So as I sit here now, ten years on from my eighteenth birthday, I’d like to share four things I’ve learned over the past decade and would want to say to that anxiety-ridden, nervous, and severely introverted version of myself if I ever got the chance.

    1. Be unashamedly all of you.

    Part of the reason I was feeling all this anxiety and emptiness inside was that I had this belief that I somehow needed to be more than who I was. Like I wasn’t good enough as me in any present moment, and so I needed to add on external things in an attempt to bridge that gap.

    Deep down, at a subconscious level, I felt that I wasn’t worthy of love or attention without chasing all this stuff that was outside of myself. The degree, the job, the business, the pay bracket.

    As I attached my entire worth as a person to all this external stuff, I created a world full of anxiety for myself.

    I got anxious about having to converse with people, for fear they would figure me out as a fraud or someone who didn’t have everything together. And my desperate looking to the future for a time when I did have it all together would cause regular panic when something even slightly compromised my ability to get there.

    The irony here is that by never feeling “enough” or “worthy” and trying to gain these external things in order to be more than I was, I was actually shrinking my real self.

    The real me wasn’t showing up in the world, and I was holding myself back from everyone and everything. Bringing just a miniscule percentage of the greatest version of myself into every situation and moment. And that’s just not fair to me, or the world.

    So the first thing I would say to my eighteen-year-old self is to stop trying to be more than you are, and just unashamedly be all that you are at any given moment.

    2. You get to create yourself.

    One of my greatest fears as an eighteen-year-old, and for a good number of years following, was that I would be this incredibly shy and anxious person for the rest of my life.

    In fact, I don’t suppose it was really a fear at the time. More a simple acceptance and frustration at the fact that I’d been dealt this hand of someone who always had a knot in his stomach, struggled to hold conversations, and was perennially labelled “the quiet one.”

    If I’m honest, it caused me to really dislike and become irritated with myself. It was overwhelmingly frustrating to see other people make their way into social circles and progress in life seemingly with relative ease. Yet here I was, having to calm down and prepare myself for the simple act of making a phone call to book a dentist’s appointment.

    This all just became a part of my identity, just who I thought I was and a part of me I assumed I just had to live with.

    At some point along the way, though, I came to the realization that I was choosing to keep this social anxiety as a part of my identity. Maybe not on a conscious level, but certainly on a subconscious one.

    I discovered that by facing up to what was going on inside my anxious head, no longer trying to push it away and suppress it, and challenging the negative thoughts floating around, I could create a blank slate of sorts, to assume an identity without all the anxiety.

    In short, a person’s past does not need to dictate their present or the future. There is no “hand” we have been dealt. And so we get to create and choose into who we want to be in any given moment or phase of our lives.

    3. Life doesn’t have to look a certain way.

    For so long, I had this grandiose illusion that everything had to look a specific way.

    I believed the “correct” path in life, whatever that meant, was already there for me, and if I veered from it, something terrible would happen. In my mind, everything was filled with “should” and “should nots” around what life was supposed to look like.

    I should have a good schooling, a degree, get a good job, behave this way, do this, do that; it’s bad to do this, it’s good to do that; I should fall in line with everyone else.

    Of course, I’m not saying we should go against the grain all the time. There are some aspects in life where it’s probably a good idea to fall in line. The concepts of not judging people by the color of their skin or not being a serial killer are pretty good examples.

    But to just accept that everything needs to look the way society, the media, a religion, teachers, school, or even your parents tells us is not necessarily serving us best.

    All this did for me was create anxiety. I had a path in my mind, and if anything threatened me falling off that path then, in my head, I would be castigated from society, nobody would love me, and my whole world would cave in.

    It was as if I was constantly on the lookout for things that could move me away from how things should look. The result was being in an almost perpetual internal state of worry, panic, and dread.

    But why do things have to look a certain way? Just because a direction, path, or way of thinking worked for one person, doesn’t mean it will for anyone else.

    This is when I realized it was perfectly okay to challenge convention. To investigate different ways of thinking without the whole world judging me and everything falling apart. And that it was perfectly healthy, even necessary, to figure out my own path.

    4. Learn to love the darkness.

    This was something that took me a while to truly understand and accept. But when I did, it created a monumental amount of inner healing and peacefulness.

    We all have dark parts of our past. Some maybe have darker parts than others, but that doesn’t make them any more or less valid.

    For a long time I wished those dark parts weren’t there. I would look into my past and feel frustration and resentment for those dark parts that caused so much pain.

    I’d look into this darkness and think about how it shouldn’t be there. That it was wrong and bad it existed, and because it did, I would be judged if anyone found out; therefore, I wasn’t worthy of being happy.

    In reality, every moment in my life, the good and the bad, was part of a vast sequence of events that led me to this very moment. We need the darkness in order to experience light, up to experience down, and sadness to experience joy. Without one, the other cannot exist.

    Of course, deep wounds take time to heal. I’m not saying we should all be able to click our fingers and instantly love every aspect of the past, regardless of how traumatic or painful.

    But opening up to the idea of letting go of resentment and frustration, and appreciating dark moments in the past for what they really are, is such a powerful step. They don’t define us, and they don’t need dictate who we are. They have given us the opportunity to harness this very moment and unleash the amazing things that are inside us on the unsuspecting world.

    —

    What would you tell your younger self if you had the chance to speak with them?

  • How to Improve Your Work/Life Balance and Reclaim Your Time

    How to Improve Your Work/Life Balance and Reclaim Your Time

    “You will never feel truly satisfied by work until you are satisfied by life.” ~Heather Schuck

    When I was two years old, my parents got divorced.

    In other words, I’ve never seen my biological parents spending loving time with each other. I never had the chance to experience the small things most children take for granted.

    For example…

    • I don’t remember my mom and dad ever sharing a loving kiss after a long day at work
    • I don’t remember ever having both parents around to tuck me in at night
    • And I never overheard simple “how was your day?” conversations between my parents in the kitchen

    As a kid who didn’t know any different, I thought this was normal. I’d stay with my mom during the week and visit my dad on the weekends. No big deal, that was that.

    Looking back, I’m lucky that even though my biological parents were separated, both my parents loved me unconditionally, and supported me whenever I needed it. (And I’m happy to say they still do!)

    But, truthfully, the reason for the divorce still saddens me to this day.

    The primary reason my parents divorced is because my father was a workaholic.

    Because I’m expecting to be a first-time father myself in a few months, “workaholic” is a word that’s at the top of my mind. I’ve thought deeply about how to avoid being labeled a workaholic, especially in today’s world where being a workaholic is synonymous with success.

    The biggest question I’ve asked myself recently is, “Should I spend more time with family or should I focus more on my career?”

    But, as I’ve thought about it more, I realized that’s the close-minded, dualistic way of looking at things. My shift in mindset from an “either/or” to a “how can I be creative to incorporate both?” has been the first step.

    And, as I’ve continued to grow and reframe my limiting beliefs, there have been a few more realizations about maintaining a work-life balance. Here’s what I’m learning.

    Making My Time on This Planet Count the Most

    No matter how I slice it, I only have twenty-four hours in my day.

    In the past, I’ve naturally gravitated toward being as efficient as possible during work hours and doing everything myself. This approach has been supported by an endless amount of tactics to maximize my productivity during the day—tactics that, if I’m being honest, only marginally approve my efficiency.

    Efficiency only carries us so far. Even if we’re the most productive person the world, we have a limit to the energy we can spend and a limit on our output.

    As I’ve learned, focusing entirely on efficiency and trying to do everything is the wrong approach.

    In reality, the people who have figured out how to integrate their family and professional success have done one thing very well: letting go.

    Caring for Ourselves Means Saying No

    One of my idols, Warren Buffett once said, “The difference between successful people and really successful people is that really successful people say ‘no’ to almost everything.”

    A couple of years ago, I had reached out to a mentor of mine asking him for advice. He was a highly respected, gregarious person and was pivotal in my early career.

    And even though we had an established relationship, he told me, “No, I can’t meet then. Evenings are reserved for my wife and daughter.”

    I was blown away. It stung a little, but after a bit I realized his “no” made me respect him even more.

    Instead of talking in the evening, he had asked me to call him in the morning, or to email my questions and he would get back to me within a couple of hours. He defined his boundaries and “let go” of having to please me (and sacrifice time with his wife and kids).

    In another example, Caryn Seidman Becker, the chairman and CEO of CLEAR, said: “You can have it all, but each person needs to define their personal ‘all’ because you can’t have everything.”

    For my mentor, having it “all” meant saying “no” so he could have a successful career during the day and cherished family time in the evening. He knows his time is limited, and reduces his obligations to the core of what he wants to accomplish.

    “Letting go” Also Means Letting Other People Help

    One of my favorite theories is the law of diminishing returns. Sometimes, this shows up when I work more than fifty hours at my day job and seeing my output decline. Other times, when I say “yes” to too many people and can’t spend quality time with my family.

    In other words, when I reach a point where the benefit gained is less than the amount of energy invested, it means I’m doing too much.

    At a certain point for all of us, we need to stop exerting effort to maintain our balance, health, and important relationships, even if it means we’ll stop short of perfection.

    When we understand the law of diminishing returns we favor progress and learning over perfection.

    The metric for balance varies too. Sometimes the optimal level of effort is when we’ve achieved “good enough” on a project at work, which allows us to focus our energy on family. Or, other times, it’s achieving “good enough” with family so we can focus more energy on a massive project we’re excited about at work.

    And once you know what your “good enough” is, you have the ability to ask others to support you so you can free up time and energy for more important things. Whether it’s hiring someone to help you grow a business, having your laundry done for you, or even getting someone to come change the oil on your car at work so you don’t have to waste time driving around.

    It’s important to note the goal isn’t laziness—it’s effectiveness. For example, there might be times when we have to put in extra hours to get the job done. The differentiating factor is recognizing when to do something ourselves, and when to delegate.

    The Power of Using Deadlines

    Have you ever noticed the power of deadlines?

    In college, when I had professors set a project deadline, I knew it had to get done. I could cram all I wanted the night before, but no matter what it needed to be finished on the due date. On the other hand, when I have something I need to do “eventually” it gets pushed off…again…and again…and again.

    When we use deadlines strategically, we’re following Parkinson’s Law. Here’s an excerpt from Tim Ferriss’ 4-Hour Body on what the Law means:

    “Parkinson’s Law dictates that a task will swell in (perceived) importance and complexity in relation to the time allotted for it’s completion. It is the magic of the imminent deadline. If I give you 24 hours to complete a project, the time pressure forces you to focus on execution, and you have no choice but to do only the bare essentials. I give you a week to complete the same task, it’s six days of making a mountain out of a molehill. If I give you two months, God forbid, it becomes a mental monster. The end product of a shorter deadline is almost inevitably of equal or higher quality due to greater focus.”

    In short, Parkinson’s Law pushes us to take action and focus exclusively on the most important items, and nothing is wasted.

    And when we use Parkinson’s Law (or ask for help, or say “no”) we’re making sure to spend our energy and time in the places that matter the most to us.

  • What to Do When Your Partner Won’t Work on Your Relationship

    What to Do When Your Partner Won’t Work on Your Relationship

    Young couple

    “It takes two to manage the relationship, but it takes one to begin the change.” ~Sheri E. Ragland

    So, your significant other doesn’t understand you. In fact you’re not even sure if they hear you. Despite trying to talk about things or take a break from each other, you end up arguing about the same thing over and over again.

    You try this and you try that. You back away, you move in. You break up, you get back together. You try everything you can think of, and nothing is working, but you don’t want to end the relationship.

    You finally realize that no matter what you two do, you eventually find your way back to the same conflict, repeating the same dance again and again and again. Nothing seems to ever change.

    So, you get excited when you finally figure out what you need to do—couples counseling! Relief floods you, confident now that couples counseling will save this relationship! And so, you announce to your other half, “We need couples counseling.”

    But alas, like a punch to your gut, your partner has no interest in couples counseling and refuses to go. Barely able to breathe, you know your relationship is really at an impasse and you are hopeless to know how to fix it. It is certainly doomed if you don’t get the counseling you both need.

    I know the feeling. In fact, my car was packed at least once, and I was sure I was finally going to leave.

    Thank goodness I didn’t.

    Did you ever hear the old adage, “I married my mother” or “I married my father”? There is truth to this statement. Despite our inability to recognize it, we do often marry or partner with someone like our mother or our father.

    And I am going to tell you why.

    First and foremost, it’s familiar. We’re attracted to what we know. Secondly and most importantly, we marry or partner with someone like our mother or our father in an unconscious attempt at resolving old conflicts and feelings left over from those original and significant early relationships.

    Read that again: We marry or partner with someone like our mother or our father in an unconscious attempt at resolving old conflicts and feelings left over from those original and significant early relationships.

    That’s a lot to mull over, for sure.

    Never underestimate the impact your childhood experience had on your life. Never underestimate the impact your relationship or lack thereof, with your mother and father had on your life. Even absent parents can have an immeasurable impact.

    They were the mirror through which you learned to see yourself. If, more often than not, you had a positive, encouraging, supportive mirror, you likely grew up with healthy self-esteem. If that mirror was more often than not, judgmental, critical, unsupportive, or disinterested, then your self-worth is likely at the lower end of healthy.

    Think about it. Those relationships, or lack of, sent you multitudes of unspoken messages.

    The question is: What are the messages you took in and how are they affecting your current relationship?

    I grew up in a male-dominated household and religion. It was not until I was an adult that I recognized that I believed men were more important than women. No one ever said that to me, but that was how I interpreted the male-dominated environments that gave little to no voice to women.

    As a result, I rarely spoke up, remaining hidden. I found myself in unhealthy and unsatisfying relationships where I allowed men to dominate me. I never fully showed up as a valuable and integral part of the relationship I was in.

    This is one of the ways that our past follows us into the present, inviting us to grow and learn beyond what childhood taught us. Figuring out how to navigate our emotional world and our relationships is paramount to this process. Hence, a not so peaceful, sometimes antagonizing relationship with the one you love can be the invitation you need.

    So, s/he won’t accompany you to couples counseling. What to do??

    Go yourself.

    The change we want in our world, always starts with ourselves.

    Now don’t get me wrong, I get it. If only s/he would [fill in the blank] it would all be okay. If s/he would stop [fill in the blank], I would be just fine. I just need him/her to [fill in the blank] and we’d be happy. And so it goes.

    Every relationship has a dance. You do this and s/he does that. S/he does that and you do this. That would be the repeating pattern that has you going around and around and around, never resolving a thing.

    You are both trying to convince the other of why you are right. That is a lose-lose situation.

    When you can both recognize that this is not necessarily a right-wrong situation, both having valid points, you might find your way to a win-win situation.

    If one partner changes their steps, breaking out of the old pattern, the other has three choices:

    1. They can, and often do, do everything in their power to get you back into the dance steps you are both familiar with. Don’t let them suck you in. If you don’t they will be left with two choices:

    2. They can leave altogether.

    3. Their other choice is to change their dance to get in step with yours.

    I understand, dear heart. This is hard and it is risky. Truly I do understand, because I’ve been there. If my spouse would just behave the way I want him to and treat me the way I think he should, then life would be perfect. We could just forget this whole dance thing.

    In other words, if he molds himself to meet my needs, I won’t have to be disturbed or expected to take care of my own needs. Ah, wouldn’t that be nice?!

    Maybe, not likely, but unrealistic, nonetheless.

    So, I finally got into therapy. Alone.

    Best decision I ever made. (Other than marrying my husband.)

    It was hard work. Grueling at times. I had to unearth my childhood experience to finally understand I was expecting my husband to meet the needs that my parents had been unable to meet.

    I was demanding. I wanted him to be interested all the time. Drop what he was doing when I needed him. I was irritable. I expected him to know what I needed without my telling him. I wanted him to coddle me and sympathize with my struggles.

    I didn’t want a husband. I wanted a parent.

    At some point in my therapy, I said, “If I had known then what I know now, I would have never married my husband.”

    I have since said, “Thank God I didn’t know!”

    I began to heal old wounds. My therapist became the surrogate parent who put a new mirror in front of me. This one showed me my strength, my ability, my heart. I began to realize I was capable and strong.

    My moods stabilized. Depression lifted. Anxiety subsided.

    I learned to listen to myself the way my therapist did. I learned to have compassion for myself the way my therapist did. I learned to love myself the way my therapist did. That was the mirror I needed—one that showed me my value, equal to that of anyone else.

    Having done so, without even realizing it was happening, I stopped looking for my husband to parent me. I didn’t need him to. I was now doing it for myself. I began to see him more clearly, realizing how present and steadfast he had always been.

    As I stopped putting demands on him, and accepted him just the way he was, he became more available to me. Our relationship improved. Tremendously.

    As my steps changed, he changed his own and we found a healthier dance.

    Now, I am not going to tell you that your outcome will be the same as mine. It may not be. You may get healthy enough to realize you don’t want the relationship anymore and you will then be able to take the appropriate steps to do what you need to do.

    S/he may leave. Then you may have to grieve what the relationship never was to begin with. If things aren’t working as they are, then maybe you have less to lose than you think and fear is getting in the way.

    Facing your fears, and delving in to your own insecurities, distorted beliefs, and unhappiness provides the opportunity to be free from emotional dependence on another person.

    And that is a good thing.

    That is a very, very good thing.

    Don’t wait for someone else to get on board before you do what is best for you. Love yourself first and the rest will follow.

  • Tiny Buddha’s First Short Film: All by Myselfie

    Tiny Buddha’s First Short Film: All by Myselfie

    Today’s the day! Finally, after months of preparation, collaboration, and learning, I have Tiny Buddha Productions’ first short film, All by Myselfie, ready to share with you.

    As you may remember, I shared a post in January, detailing why I decided to launch this production company, in partnership with my fiancé.

    Months later, I shared my top four lessons from attempting something new and difficult, when you have boundless enthusiasm but limited experience.

    This film took much longer to complete than we originally anticipated; in fact, I imagined I’d be sharing our second film by now. While patience isn’t my strong suit, I’ve come to realize all good things take time, and they’re usually worth the wait.

    For us, this was. We’re thrilled with how it turned out, proud of the message we’ve shared, and hopeful you’ll enjoy it as much as we enjoyed making it.

    If you do enjoy it, we hope you’ll consider sharing it on your blog or social media pages to support us in this new venture.

    Thank you to all the amazing cast and crew who helped bring this film to life. You touched us, inspired us, and made a positive difference in our lives, and we couldn’t be more grateful for the chance to know and work with you.

    Update: It’s been three years since I wrote this post, and I’m excited to share that I recently finished my first feature screenplay! It’s a story about family estrangement, the pursuit of fame, and an underachiever’s mission to make an impact before his final day. At its core, it’s a film about what it means to matter in life. For this reason, I’m selling a limited edition “You matter” shirt to help raise development funds. If you’d like to support the project, you can grab a T, tank, or hoodie here.

  • You Have the Right to Feel Safe in Your Relationships (Even with Your Family)

    You Have the Right to Feel Safe in Your Relationships (Even with Your Family)

    Hugging

    “Anger is a signal, and one worth listening to[…]  It exists for a reason and always deserves our respect and attention.”  ~Harriet G. Lerner, The Dance of Anger

    My journey to authentic safety began, at long last, with my discovery of my own anger.

    Anger is my least favorite emotion. I don’t even particularly like its cousins—annoyance, irritation, frustration.

    The moment that cemented my profound dislike occurred when I was a teenager.

    I had tucked myself away in a corner of the house—in the dark den where my family kept the computer. (Just a word processor—this was in the dark ages before the internet.)

    I was doing homework, I think, and an extended family member who was staying with us—someone I had always trusted and looked up to—burst into the room to confront me about something. (I don’t recall what it was, but I doubt it was particularly bad. I was a straight-A student, a people-pleasing, we-must-ALL-play-strictly-by-the-rules kind of child and teen.)

    I don’t remember what I said or did; I think I felt distracted. In any case, I somehow neglected to give my family member what he wanted and he grabbed the printed pages I’d set next to the computer.

    They were the pages of an important piece of writing I’d recently handed in at school; they’d been returned with a good grade, and, to my pleased delight, some specific words of praise scrawled in my teacher’s handwriting.

    My family member grabbed the pages and tore them to express his impotent frustration at not getting the response he’d wanted from me. I so clearly remember the distorted, crazed look of pure rage on his face.

    I remember thinking something like,

    That’s really not okay. Those pages, with those handwritten words, can’t be replaced. You are out of control. YOU are acting like a tantruming, irrational, destructive child.

    Looking at this from an outsider’s perspective, I realize this would probably not strike most people as a bad outburst. It’s pretty mild.

    But to put it in context: On the one hand, my parents were pretty nurturing, and angry outbursts were rare. There was some dysfunction, but enough stability and normalcy that I had a strong inner sense of what things should look like between people.

    At the same time, there was a lot of mental illness in my immediate and extended family—a lot of weird, distorted thought and behavior, a lot of unpredictability. Part of why I was such a rule-follower, or, rule-worshipper, even, was that it made life feel safe. Contained.

    I just hated anything that felt out-of-control.

    I yearned for things to feel normal, reasonable, safe. My trusted family member’s irrational rage struck me as emotionally chaotic; the kind of extremely disorderly thing I despised.

    I remember moving into a very distant place inside myself, and vowing something along the lines of:

    I don’t ever want to behave like that. Ever. I will never be like that.

    Many, many years later, as a long-married adult, I experienced a dramatic counterpoint to that.

    I was in my own home, and thinking about someone I love very much and how they had recently been betrayed in a way that was cruel, unjust, and profoundly devastating.

    Thinking about the person who had done the betraying, I imagined picking up a heavy piece of furniture in the room (far too heavy for me to lift, in actuality), and throwing it at the wall.

    The image startled me and I paused. And then I realized:  “Oh. I’m angry. I’m feeling anger. This is what that feels like.”

    I now realize it was dangerous for me to distance myself so deeply from my own anger. Not because I’ve ever been likely to act out mindlessly on that repressed anger, but because I had placed myself out of hearing range of the vitally important information that anger holds for all of us.  

    I couldn’t hear myself scream.

    In The Dance of Anger, Harriet G. Lerner writes, “Our anger may be a message that we are being hurt, that our rights are being violated… or simply that something is not right.”

    Letting the signals of anger go unperceived is potentially quite risky; those messages may turn out to be important.

    It’s also risky to ignore things like: a feeling of discomfort, because something about a situation feels weird or “off,” a feeling of jitteriness. A feeling of I’d rather not be here.

    All of these sensations are ones that we’re often discouraged from acting on, but perhaps most especially, with our families. With families, distancing ourselves from our bodies and the unpleasant feelings and signals they may hold for us, is so common that it’s a joke.

    “Oh, the holidays are coming up? Time to get plastered!”

    The lesson our society seems to be teaching here is: it’s best just to ignore how you actually feel.

    Of course, our interpersonal lives are filled with friction; it’s impossible to feel totally at ease with everyone, all the time. It can be noble and constructive to avoid fights, to let little things go.

    But sometimes, kindly acting on the information that anger has given us is the most important, most constructive thing one can do.

    Friendships and family relationships require care and attention to be healthy. Acknowledging where we feel uncomfortable or angry or hurt, and taking gentle action as early and often as we reasonably can, is a way of honouring and protecting a vitally important connection. So that it doesn’t degrade; so that discord and distrust can be repaired; so that both people in a relationship feel safe and can grow, together.

    Ignoring things and hoping they’ll magically get better, well, it turns out, that doesn’t work so well.

    Anger deferred too long means that something (or someone) is getting extinguished. In the short term, it’s the person ignoring their own inner signals who is silenced. But that can only be endured so long.

    Ignored anger goes underground, but it doesn’t go away. Eventually a person’s boundaries must be protected. After enough pressure builds up, anger erupts, and, too often, breaks trust and destroys friendships.

    With families, even more is on the line. We are influenced and affected by family members in ways that are well below our conscious awareness. And there is an active risk of harm to that most vulnerable and emotionally vital part of you—that “inner child” deep within.

    I can speak from personal experience about something that all too many of us have had to go through.

    When healthier members of a family grow—go into therapy, learn to recognize inappropriate or dysfunctional (even abusive) patterns and behaviors—they naturally want to help bring those insights back into their family systems. To initiate healthier patterns, for everyone.

    Attempting that can bring about a negative outcome that is simply blindsidingly bad. (It’s hard to anticipate because most relationships don’t operate like family relationships.)

    That blindsidingly bad outcome is: that our family system will not only refuse to change along with us, but our family members will deny that there are any problems at all.

    Or, they will tell us both that we are wrong about there being a problem, and, that we are the problem.

    Which is crazy-making and awful.

    In families, there can be tremendous pressure to let our unallowable anger go unaddressed, to deny our own reality until we extinguish us—our truths, our rights, our authentic selves.

    That’s a tragic, awful, unjust outcome. That doesn’t have to happen; instead, find someone—or better, many someones—whom you trust, who believe you, and figure things out in a safe, secure, reliable space.

    We are far more whole and wiser,* when we listen to the truths that our bodies, minds, and hearts are desperately trying to communicate to us. This is far from a simple process; listening to our feelings does not mean (as I believed for a long time) melding with the strongest feeling, identifying with it, acting without reflection on whatever the feeling wanted me to do.

    Figuring out how to listen well to feelings, how to respond to them from a place of separate-but-compassionate insight, what to do with the awareness and energy they offer—this is a long-term process.

    Finding a way to stay safe within a family system, on top of all of that—well, to my mind, there is no absolute right course of action for this.

    Having the courage and insight to change, and the further courage to protect our evolving well-being inside our families, it can be so complicated, so challenging, (so grueling!) to navigate all of that.

    Self-protection might involve avoiding the family (or certain members) while you take time to figure things out; making gentle requests for a family member to do things a little differently; asking one or more members to go to meditation or therapy with you; it might mean a short, long, or forever period of limited or no contact. It might mean a whole host of other things, entirely.

    In other words, it can take a whole lot of exploring and planning with people you trust, who stand outside the family, who have expert knowledge and are absolutely committed to your well-being, to find the path that is right for you, that makes your inner self safe and secure. 

    It took years for me to understand that when I said “no” to owning and knowing my own anger, I was leaving an extremely wise, and powerfully protective piece of myself behind.

    Anger can feel combustible; but it’s also energetic and fierce. It can lend us its strength and bravery and confidence.

    Of course, everything that bothers or angers us does not, by itself, constitute a reason to take immediate or drastic action. A world of hair-trigger tantrummers would be a nightmarish one.

    But if we are made to feel violated or uncomfortable, invaded in a way that feels “not right” in certain intimate relationships, especially relationships within our family of origin, there is no higher or more urgent calling than to heed and protect that inner child.*

    You have the right to protect your heart. The little one within needs you. S/he doesn’t need you to commit arson or murder; s/he might even be safest if you lay low for awhile; but no external accusation against you has any merit whatsoever, if you are taking good care of him or her.

    It is not mean, it is not rude, it is not selfish, it is not disloyal, it does not make you a bad daughter/son, brother/sister, family member/friend, to protect that inner child.

    Protecting our hearts doesn’t make us “bad” people; vigilantly and nonviolently protecting our hearts is exactly what makes it possible for us to be good, kind, generous human beings.

    I still crave approval, like the kid and teen I once was. I still want people to think I’m a “good” person (daughter/ niece/ friend). I still hate to let people down.

    But that sort of concern doesn’t matter in the least when it comes to my inner child. For her sake, it is irrelevant whether anyone else likes me or my choices, my words, my behavior, my values.

    Ultimately, all that matters is that I protect her. Because her safety is what makes all the rest possible—my sanity, my well-being, my commitment to my values.

    I can offer the world my best when I am whole; when I feel safe in the ways that matter to my inner, sensitive, wisely aware child. She may not have the cognitive tools to make sense of what’s going on; she needs my help, to understand and to take right action. But she has a deep, instinctual knowledge of what is and isn’t safe for me/ us.

    My highest, most sacred duty is to protect my vulnerable inner self; if my inner child is crying for my attention, that is a more urgent concern than anything else. Caring for her doesn’t make me rude or selfish or disloyal or bad; it makes me a kind, whole, responsible adult.

    I value kindness above almost anything else; in my most drastically self-protective actions, I have tried to speak carefully, act gently. But I am ruthlessly committed to my well-being, because without it, I’m worse than “mean” or any other name you might call me—I’m nothing. I’m a powerless, silenced sufferer.

    My goodness is a fount that flows from my refusal to allow my inner child to be invaded or abused.

    My intact wellness—protected by heeding my inner signals and guarding my boundaries—is the source of my integrity and insight and strength.

    If something feels not okay, you and I have the right to disengage, to step out and walk away. At. Any. Point. Without permission or explanation. Even, and especially, within your family.

    In fact, the title of this post could have been:

    You Have the Absolute Right to Take the Nonviolent Actions Necessary For You to Feel SAFE, at All Times, Especially with Your Family

    Family patterns change slowly. All too often, violence, abuse, and other unhealthy patterns are passed along for generation after generation. We can interrupt this cycle by taking ruthlessly kind and compassionately wise care of ourselves.

    Let us make our world one that is safe for children, one inner child at a time.

    —

    Footnotes:

    *I’m NOT an expert on this, but it’s my understanding that sometimes, in threatening, abusive situations, dissociating from the reality of what we’re feeling is actually a really effective coping strategy. Coping with and coming back from dissociation is, unfortunately, outside the humble scope of this article; but I hope it’s obvious that I symbolically lend my love and support to anyone on that journey.

    **I’m sensitive to the fact that responsible adults should actively nurture and protect their own actual child/ren first and foremost (and their inner child second). It seems a tricky thing to balance, and I hope that those seeking a resolution to this question will look, broadly and openheartedly, to the spirit and heart of what I have written here. Also, it is my hope, for all of us who parent or teach or mentor children, that we have been given or found the chance to do vital self-parenting work, first.  

    Finally: a few minor details included in this piece have been altered to protect the innocent.

  • How to Stop Worrying: 5 Things to Try When Nothing Else Works

    How to Stop Worrying: 5 Things to Try When Nothing Else Works

    Calm woman

    “I’ve been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.” ~Mark Twain

    If you’re like me—a worry prodigy from a young age—you hate when people say, “Don’t worry about it.” As if it were so easy, as if I hadn’t already tried.

    I’ve used many of the tips and tricks out there. Some of them helped for a while, but few did much for long.

    The trouble is, most of the advice out there only addresses the symptoms of worry. It’s like taking cherry-flavored cough syrup when you have bronchitis: tempting, and probably the most palatable option, but not likely to do any lasting good since it doesn’t address the real issue.

    I’ve been a worrier ever since I was seven years old and slept with my covers over my head because I was afraid that foxes and burglars would attack me at night.

    What I’ve learned over the years of working with worry—a nice way to phrase it, though it could also be described as obsessively thinking, planning, and catastrophizing, forgetting to breathe, and grinding my teeth—is that resisting it only makes it grow stronger. In order to find freedom from apprehension, you have to get to its root.

    So here are five things you can try if you’ve meditated, said your positive affirmations, and smelled your grapefruit (yes, it’s a thing) and your worries still haven’t gone away:

    1. Get curious about why you worry.

    As I got older, I began to notice what a big drain worry was on my time and energy. I saw how it never helped me feel stronger, more innovative, or more able to respond. I also began to read about all the negative impacts it has on our health and well-being. So naturally I started to worry about being worried.

    A much better response would have been to get curious about why I did it. Because we all get something out of worrying or we wouldn’t do it.

    In my case, I realized that I do it most when I feel powerless. The act of worrying helps me feel like I’m doing something, like I have some sort of control over an uncontrollable situation.

    Worry can also distract us from even scarier parts of our lives, or from our own intense emotions. And it can help us feel like we’re protecting ourselves and what’s important to us just by thinking about them. Though worrying can’t actually change anything in reality, it can promise to help us feel more empowered and secure.

    We worry because we think it helps. When we see what worry promises, we can also see clearly what it fails to deliver. Without this clarity, letting go of worries can feel too scary for most of us to attempt. With it, we can find new, more effective ways of dealing with uncertainty in a world where so much is out of our control.

    2. Feel your fear.

    In some ways, worrying is an attempt to avoid what you fear, which is really an effort to avoid fear itself. Feel the fear, and the worry becomes unnecessary.

    I experienced this recently when I had the idea for a novel. For the first couple of months, everything was great. I kept getting ideas, writing them down, and feeling more and more excited about the project.

    And then when I decided to actually start writing the novel, I had a breakdown. Suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about the story line, going over and over it in my head, worrying that something was wrong with it, and trying to get it right.

    Every spare moment I had, I was in my head trying to solve this imaginary problem. I couldn’t relax, I could barely sleep, and I certainly couldn’t write.

    Finally it occurred to me that the reason I was worrying so much was because I was terrified. I experienced what felt like a huge rejection of my writing when I was young, and it devastated me. This was the first major project I had attempted since then, and part of me was scared that the same thing would happen all over again.

    Once I became aware of it, I felt a tidal wave of fear waiting to wash over me. And though part of me wanted desperately to avoid it, I knew I needed to let it in. So I did.

    It wasn’t pleasant. Fear can be very uncomfortable, and we avoid it for a reason.

    But similar to storm clouds that look dark and sinister on the horizon, once the feeling actually arrived on my shores, it washed over me like rain. I was reminded that fear is really just a bundle of uncomfortable sensations that I can handle. And then it’s gone.

    When you let yourself feel your fear of whatever outcome you’re trying to avoid, it loses its power over you.

    The best way I know to do this is to name your fear, exactly what it is that frightens you. Then you can let yourself feel it, by sitting quietly, or dancing it out, or moving and noticing where you feel it in your body. If you can let it be there, knowing that it’s temporary and can’t harm you, you can free yourself from the need to distract yourself from it with worry.

    3. Do what you can.

    Too often we try to get rid of our worries without truly understanding them. The problem is, worries are kind of like toddlers: when they aren’t listened to, they get louder. When they aren’t listened to for long enough, they throw a tantrum.

    Our worries are really just trying to help us. They can usually point us towards something worth paying attention to, so it’s worth listening to them.

    You can do this by asking yourself:

    • What feels like it’s at stake here, and why is this important to me?
    • What does this worry want from me?
    • How can I address this concern in a way that feels good to me?

    In the case of my fears about writing a novel, I realized that the worry was trying to make sure that I wasn’t hurt or disappointed again. It wanted to protect me from possible rejection. It felt like my entire self-worth was at stake, that if I failed, I would know with certainty that I had nothing of value to offer the world.

    The worry wanted me to protect myself. It wanted me to make sure that what I did was so good that it couldn’t possibly be unappreciated.

    These realizations led me to do two things: first, I reminded the part of myself that was scared that though there will be people out there who don’t like what I write, there are a lot of others who will. Nothing appeals to everyone, and though disappointment hurts, it’s also temporary. Regardless, there’s always value in what I create from the heart, and my worthiness doesn’t depend on the result of one project.

    And secondly, I committed to going slowly. Part of myself felt very scared, so rather than push myself out of my comfort zone all at once, I resolved to take baby steps and give my vulnerable self time to feel it out and adjust.

    I also promised myself that I would only share it when I was ready, and would start with the people and communities who were most likely to appreciate it. When I did this, I no longer felt the need to obsess about the story.

    Sometimes listening to worry’s hidden wisdom and taking action on its behalf is enough to convince it to lay down its arms.

    4. Accept the worst.

    This is easier said than done, but it’s one of the most powerful ways to undercut worry.

    I had to do this big time when I made the decision to get married.

    At the time, I was so worried about making a mistake that I could barely think about anything else. (And just to be clear, this had nothing to do with my lovely husband-to-be. I was so scared of committing at the time that I could have been dating Prince Charming and I still would have had doubts.)

    It was only when I came to terms with the fact that our relationship might not last forever that I was able to stop worrying and take the plunge. Don’t get me wrong—I sincerely hope that we’re happy together ever after, but I also know that we may not be. And that’s fine. Splitting up would be painful, difficult, and sad—and I also know I would survive and ultimately be okay.

    Many of the things we worry about (failure, rejection, embarrassment, inconvenience) are pretty much just temporary challenges when you get down to it.

    But even for those things that are more painful or permanent, there is a way to accept them and know you’ll be okay. No matter what happens, you’ll have options for moving forward. Other people will always be there to help. And regardless of what goes wrong, you can count on all the incredible internal resources you have (compassion, loving-kindness, wisdom, strength, intelligence, resilience, humor, joy) being there to support you.

    Being willing to accept anything isn’t easy, but it’s an incredibly powerful way to find more equanimity and peace.

    5. Practice trust.

    The idea of trusting the universe used to give me a rash.

    It seemed to me that it was hard work, foresight, and copious amounts of worry that held everything together in my life. I believed that if I relaxed at all, things would fall apart.

    But eventually it dawned on me that as capable and amazing as I am, I do not single-handedly hold the world together. I began to notice how other people grow my food, trees create the oxygen I breathe, and the sun provides me with lots of light and warmth everyday, all without my involvement.

    What’s more, I realized that if I’m being honest with myself, most of the good things in my life didn’t happen solely because of my own foresight or effort. Sure, I contributed to many of them, but they also required a lot of luck, happy accidents and coincidences, and forces outside of my control.

    Recognizing this, I began to be willing to experiment with turning my troubles over to a force larger than myself. When held thrall in the throes of worry, I would remind myself that it wasn’t all up to me to make something happen.

    I would recall all the help I’d ever gotten over the years and all the things that turned out well. I would think of all the things I was grateful for, most of which were out of my control, and then I would visualize placing my problem in the hands of a universe that had supported me so well up to that point.

    And then I would do my best to let go and think about something else. (This is when meditation and other calming techniques worked really well.)

    Much to my surprise, the world didn’t fall apart when I did this. In fact, the outcomes were often much better when I turned things over than when I tried to fix everything myself. Even better, the more I turned over, the calmer and freer I felt, and the more I began to trust.

    Trust, it turns out, is the ultimate antidote to worry. And we don’t have to be born with it to use it—it’s possible to build trust in ourselves and the universe through practice, one worry at a time.

  • 9 Confidence Myths That Only Quiet People Will Truly Understand

    9 Confidence Myths That Only Quiet People Will Truly Understand

    Timid woman

    “Quiet is the new loud.” ~Patrick Stump

     Isn’t it ironic?

    When you need it the most, your confidence is nowhere to be found.

    When you’re freaking out at the thought of meeting new people, speaking up or going for that job interview, you’re only ally has gone AWOL.

    And even though you’ve tried all the standard advice on how to be more confident, more self-assured, if you’re anything like I used to be, it’s left you even more anxious. Even less sure of yourself.

    And all your efforts to be more confident have got you worrying that there’s actually something wrong with you.

    Because the advice on building your confidence that works for others just doesn’t seem to work for you at all.

    Take heart. There’s a really good reason it doesn’t work for you…

    …you’re quiet.

    Some people might say “introverted,” but labels are often only half the story. Simply put:

    • Shouting above everyone else to be heard just isn’t your thing.
    • A busy diary feels like you must have been a bad person in a former life.
    • You love being social and then suddenly you want to be home. In pajamas.
    • And alone time, well that’s level pegging with oxygen.

    The rub is a lot of advice on how to be more confident works for a lot of people. It does make them appear more confident. And it can boost their own feelings of confidence.

    But as a quiet person, trying to improve your self-confidence by following this type of advice, however good, can leave you less self-confident and more self-conscious than ever.

    I know, I did just that…

    “Who you are speaks so loudly I can’t hear what you’re saying.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

    “All eyes on me, I can do this,” I mumbled inside. “Speak up girl, dammit.”

    I seriously mis-sold myself at that interview. And every day that followed because of the persona I thought I needed to put across—a loud, forceful, heck aggressive if that’s what the situation needed, “Go get ‘em Laura.”

    “Maybe I’ll grow into this louder me…please,” I stressed inside.

    Instead, I became a caricature of my true, quiet self.

    Colleagues that the authentic quiet me would have got on great with shied away from the person they saw me as. But equally I wasn’t comfortable with the people who liked the false loud me they saw and heard.

    Pretending ate away my confidence and devoured my self-esteem.

    And yeah, it got messy at work. And I left… quietly.

    It’s a myth that there’s a one-size-fits-all answer to being more confident. We are all unique, with different stories and challenges, but there is some advice that directly conflicts with quiet tendencies.

    So here are nine confidence myths that only quiet people will truly understand.

     1. Speak louder.

    To get on, you’ve got to speak up, get loud, right? Folk need to hear you over all the noise in today’s hyper-busy, hyper-competitive world. And they need to hear you fast.

    But if you’re quiet, trying to speak louder feels uncomfortably rushed. I found I was consumed by the way I was saying my piece, not what I was saying.

    Someone who speaks quietly, and only when they have something to say, can command greater attention than the loudest, most vocal person in the room.

    Gandhi never raised his voice, and a whole nation heard him just fine.

    2. Walk faster.

    Walking faster makes it look like you’re filled with purpose, assured of your direction.

    But for me, walking faster, well that just got me there too fast. I felt like I was hurrying, scrambling even. By forcing myself to quicken my pace, I set my quiet confidence running in the opposite direction.

    Bottom line, I felt like I wasn’t in control.

    Instead take your time. Taking things at your pace is a sure sign of a confident person.

    After all, can you imagine the Dalai Lama rushing?

    3. Be busy.

    The idea of making yourself extra busy because it adds to the image of you being in demand, being successful, works for some.

    But I found that there’s an extra, more troublesome dimension if you’re quiet. Making myself noticeably busier meant I had to engage with lots more people to attract more tasks. And ironically, I also had to say no more because soon I’d taken on way too much.

    But worst of all, I was too busy doing everything badly, rather than one thing well. And quiet people like to do a good job. It’s a critical part of our confidence.

    So rather than be the go-to guy or gal for any and every project, be known as the one to call on when the task needs care and attention.

    4. Dress sharp.

    The way we look can have a profound effect on our level of confidence, and dressing sharp seems good advice.

    So I smothered my quiet tendencies and took the dress sharp class.

    Oh boy! I felt like the Emperor and his new clothes. More self-conscious than if I’d been naked. I felt like my clothes were shouting “look at me!”

    You don’t need to obsess over how you dress. Get your confidence from being your true self and knowing that long after they’ve forgotten what you looked like, they won’t have forgotten how you made them feel.

    “I don’t want to be just known for the way I dress. I want to be known for how… I treat people” ~Rickie Fowler

    5. Smile. 

    Smiling says I’m relaxed, confident, at ease with myself. And easily approachable.

    Which is commendable.

    But as a quiet person, sometimes I don’t want the whole world to approach me, to engage in conversation, to look for a deeper connection than maybe I want.

    Unfortunately, by trying to wear a permanently over-enthusiastic smile, I gave out a confusing message to others about how involved I was comfortable being.

    It’s better for your confidence to preserve your quiet space when you need it than wear a false “open all hours” smile.

    6. Make and hold eye contact. 

    Winning the staring contest supposedly shows that you are confident, accessible with nothing to conceal.

    So I gave the “hold eye contact” advice a really good shot.

    So tiring! Embarrassing even. I felt like a weird stalker, hanging on every nuance of every word, yet ironically I heard nothing because my thoughts were totally taken up with winning the staring contest.

    Sure, totally avoiding eye contact suggests that you’re either very shy or very guilty. But eye contact is way more intense than words will ever be. So if you’re a little reserved, holding someone’s gaze needs to be as natural as possible for your confidence to flourish.

    7. Adopt power poses. 

    Similar to eye contact, your body says way more than your words. “Power poses” might include:

    • the self-assured lean back in the chair
    • the standing with legs shoulder-width apart, hands on your hips stance
    • the steepling fingers together and resting elbows on the table

    These can increase testosterone, which in turn increases confidence.

    Now, even though I’m quiet it doesn’t mean I’m a mouse. I’ve given talks to groups of a dozen to several hundred. And I’ve tried those poses.

    I felt like a second rate actor in a bad B-movie. One I wouldn’t have paid to watch. And the stress of trying to pose nearly killed me.

    You see as a quiet person, the testosterone fueled confidence boost is more than likely to be offset by the extra increase in stress. Having to consciously adapt your body language can feel like a daunting performance.

    Instead of trying to contort yourself into unnatural poses, boost your confidence by playing the only role you’ll ever win an Oscar for—you.

    8. Shake hands firmly.

    A first impression can be difficult to turn around. A firm grasp, two or three pumps up and down can persuade the other person you’re James Bond confident.

    Unless of course you’re a quiet person. And then it’s likely to be quite the opposite. Sure, I shake hands, I’m British after all, but my consciously firm hand shaking attempts left me feeling pushy and competitive.

    That’s not the way my confidence feels good on meeting new people.

    Instead of forcing your handshake, offer the genuine quiet greeting your confidence is comfortable with and let the other person meet the real you first off.

    9. Make physical contact. 

    A touch can say so much. It can be warm, assured, reassuring even, and can make you seem more confident.

    And I was well aware of that, but every time I tried to pat someone on the back, or touch them on the shoulder, it felt more like I was taking a liberty than offering a friendly gesture. It felt way too intimate.

    As a somewhat reserved person, gentle or friendly physical contact might be well intentioned but if it’s uninvited, that gentle tap can feel more of a Zap.

    So instead of fake physical intimacy, let the authenticity of your personality affect them instead.

    “Do not underestimate the determination of a quiet man.” ~Iain Duncan Smith

    True, all our lives we’ve been shown that loud is better, that loud wins.

    Which is why you hoped so hard that the good advice you tried was going to be the answer.

    It’s still good advice… for anyone not like you.

    But if you can stop seeing quiet as the chink in your armor of confidence, you’ll leap a thousand steps in being more self-assured.

    Your own unique version of confidence is quiet. Quiet confidence.

    Make peace with your quietness.

    Because quiet confidence can conquer the world.

    If it wants to.

  • How to Rise Above Negative Comments About Your Body & What You Eat

    How to Rise Above Negative Comments About Your Body & What You Eat

    Close up Portrait Of Beautiful smiling Plus Size Young Woman in

    “It’s also helpful to realize that this very body that we have, that’s sitting right here right now … with its aches and its pleasures … is exactly what we need to be fully human, fully awake, fully alive.” ~Pema Chodron

    I took a photograph with my mom last night. She sighed when she saw the photo, saying she looked “so big.” My heart sank.

    A few weeks ago, I was picking up sushi from the local supermarket with her, and she looked down at the to-go pack I was picking up and asked, “You’re really going to eat that? It has so many carbs.” Again, my heart sank.

    These two little scenarios shed light light on why I had so many body image and food issues growing up as a kid. If your mom, your main symbol of how a female “should” be, is consumed with calorie counting and her weight, you’re going to have some degree of that too, at least in my experience.

    More importantly, these scenarios showed me how far I’ve come. Because these things didn’t trigger me. Instead, they empowered me. Words like this now slide right off of me because of the strong relationship I now have with my body and food.

    As much as I don’t want to admit this, talk like this used to infuriate me. I’d feel like part of my soul was burning up inside.

    Now, I accept that that is how my mom is. Calorie counting works for her. It’s not my job to change that or her. It’s my job to practice acceptance and to choose to recognize that comments about weight and body image are coming from a place of insecurity within her, not me.

    That being said, how do you deal with people who make comments about your food, your body, or your choices on what you eat? While there are no black and white, clear cut, yes and no rules, there are some things to remember and tools you can use to help you stay grounded, centered, and most importantly, calm.

    I’ve discovered the more you do this work, the easier it becomes. Like all good things that last, it takes practice and dedication.

    Here are eight ways to rise above negative comments about your body and food.

    1. Don’t take things personally.

    We constantly need to remind ourselves of this, because when people make comments about us (in even the slightest negative context), it’s hard to not take them personally. But know that their comments about you show more about them.

    People who are truly happy with themselves (or the area of life they’re commenting on) don’t try to bring others down. Instead, truly happy people do the exact opposite—they’ll try to lift you up.

    People who are happy with themselves aren’t jealous or worried that there will be less for them, and they don’t make hurtful comments. No. Truly happy people are present and there for you, rooting you on. If they’re not, it’s a sign that your action, statement, thought, feeling, belief, or appearance, triggered a wound within them that needs some healing.

    2. Use people as a mirror.

    In that same context, watch when you get triggered. Triggers are strong emotional reactions to people, words, and situations. When someone’s words trigger you, don’t beat yourself up for reacting. Instead, use the person as a mirror for yourself and allow yourself to look within and investigate why you were triggered.

    If you do this when people make negative comments about your body or food, you’ll take the anger and emphasis off of them and put the focus back onto the only person’s reaction you can control—your own.

    This is what will further your personal development and self-love journey more than anything else. Even if you come up with no answers here, simply digging deep and exploring these emotions will allow you to expand your perspective. And it will provide insights on why you feel how you feel and what changes you need to make in your life, propelling you forward.

    3. Express how you feel.

    In all honesty, we can’t get upset with someone until we voice our feelings and tell them that what they’re doing or saying is upsetting us. Once you do this, it’s important to set boundaries (more on this below).

    There are so many times when people think their comments about your body, your diet, or your food choices are “helpful,” “inspiring,” or they’re just “trying to tell you what worked for them.” Whether or not something is helping in your journey, is your decision, not theirs. Let them know.

    4. Set boundaries.

    We teach people how to treat us. So if you never tell your friends, family members, or partner that commenting about your body or food in a certain way isn’t acceptable, they might continue to do it. Stand up for yourself. Often, what we think people should know, or people should be able to tell, they can’t. Tell them and teach them how to talk to you.

    An example: “When you’re always making comments on my weight I feel like I’m not good enough and that you don’t actually want me in your life. Can you please no longer bring it up unless I do?”

    Notice that you’re stating the action that bothers you, stating how it makes you feel, and then asking for what you need.

    If you begin to speak your truth and notice things aren’t changing, set boundaries with your time and how and with whom you spend it. You should spend time with people who generally make you feel good and who push you to grow in a positive way. If not, it’s time to reevaluate. And know that that’s okay!

    Not everyone is meant to be in our lives forever. Usually, once the growth period is over in any relationship, it’s time to move on.

    5. Have a grounding practice.

    When you begin speaking up for yourself it’s easy to get overwhelmed. So it’s important to find an activity that works for you that makes you feel calm, connected with yourself, and peaceful.

    There are many ways to do this: hiking, journaling, walking, meditating, painting, reading, exercising, singing, writing, deep breathing. The trick is to find what works for you, and once you do, to use it to bring you back to center when the chatter from others becomes too much.

    6. Reflect on your progress.

    If you’re receiving negative comments about your body, food, or weight, it’s hard to recognize all the good you’re doing. As human beings, especially sensitive ones, it’s super easy for us to reflect on everything we’re not and to let the negative talk (others and our own) consume us.

    Rise above this by making the time to reflect on your progress, how far you’ve come, and the amazing work that you’re doing right now to move forward along your journey.

    Keep a notebook and every day, write down three things about yourself or your choices that you’re proud of. Try it. It’s a serious life-changer. It’ll help you refocus your energy on the good.

    7. Practice radical acceptance (and don’t wait on the apology).

    This one is hard, but possibly the most rewarding. When you begin to not take others’ comments personally and accept them as who they are, it will change your world.

    You’re not trying to change them. You’re not trying to get them to see things a different way (this can be exhausting, especially when someone isn’t ready). You’re not trying to get them to apologize. Instead, you see them as who they are—working (or not working) through their own stuff—and you accept that.

    This may translate into you seeing them less, setting more boundaries, or expressing how you feel in a loving way. But at the end of the day, you see them, you accept where they’re at, and you choose your actions accordingly.

    8. Don’t wait on your weight, regardless, of what anyone says.

    For years I thought I wasn’t lovable or good enough unless I looked a certain way. This couldn’t be more wrong. Don’t you wait on your weight to do the things you want to do too! That chatter inside your mind is only your fear holding you back. And part of that fear of not feeling good enough comes from others who don’t feel good enough themselves.

    I’ve found it’s never really our bodies that hold us back; it’s our fear. Move through the fear and do “the thing” anyway. When you do this, what you find may very well surprise you—you’ll begin to break through your own body jail you’ve put yourself in and start living your life.

    And at the end of the day, your body is here to help you live the life you really want. Use your body to do what it’s intended to do—to help you live. And along the way, take care and speak kindly to it. Your body deserves that.

  • 5 Things You Need to Tell Yourself After a Painful Breakup

    5 Things You Need to Tell Yourself After a Painful Breakup

    Girl on a swing

    Have you ever experienced a breakup or divorce but still loved the other person you were saying goodbye to?

    I met my ex-girlfriend on a rooftop in Istanbul. I had just sold everything I owned to travel the world, and she was a tour leader in Asia.

    She was everything I had been searching for: beautiful, confident, and funny. I followed her to India and China. She followed me to Australia. When the money and visas ran out, we moved back to Canada, found an apartment, got a cat, and shared a strong, healthy relationship for over five years.

    And then, just like that, it was over.

    There was no huge fight, yelling, or name-calling. It was just an honest discussion about the direction we saw ourselves going into the future. Unfortunately, our visions didn’t align. So we had to ask the tough questions:

    Do we stick it out and hope that things fall into place?

    Or do we part ways?

    We chose the latter, and it was one of the hardest decisions either of us had ever made.

    What followed was a month of living in the same apartment until we settled logistics like finding a new place to live, selling the car, and deciding who would keep the cat. We slept in separate beds. We talked, cooked, and went out to our favorite restaurants. We still loved each other but that only served to make our decision even tougher.

    I struggled a lot. I couldn’t bring myself to write or work on my business. I shut down. I drank and smoked too much. I cried in the shower. I second-guessed our decision constantly.

    But we stuck with it. I figured I had two choices: stay sad and depressed or put my head down and start moving forward. I chose to move forward. And here’s what I told myself to help get me going in the right direction.

    Time Doesn’t Heal

    “I realized, it is not the time that heals, but what we do within that time that creates positive change.” ~Diane Dettman

    During my breakup, friends and family loved to throw out the often used cliche “Don’t worry, time heals.”

    But guess what? Time doesn’t heal. It’s only an excuse people use to justify sitting around in their pajamas watching Netflix and eating ice cream out of the bucket with a side of red wine.

    Sure, if you wait long enough, perhaps time will heal. But how much of your life are you willing to sacrifice to get there? Six months? A year? Ten years?

    We have one precious life on this little blue planet, with no guarantees of an afterlife. It’s a waste to believe that time will magically heal our sorrows.

    It’s easy to stay stuck in sadness and depression; it’s hard to move on from someone we still love. But you have to do it. You have to take action because life isn’t going to wait for you.

    Get rid of the notion that time will heal because it’s not going to help you get where you need to go. Instead, do something. Get out of your house and meet new people. Take up a hobby you’ve been putting off. Train for a marathon. Start doing yoga. Do anything. Just don’t wait for time to heal your pain.

    Love Isn’t Always Enough

    Friends and family couldn’t wrap their heads around my breakup. “If you still love each other, can’t you make it work?” they would ask.

    We grow up with a belief that love can overcome any obstacle. I blame the likes of Harry and Sally, Edward and Vivian, and Sam and Annie. Romantic movies always end happily because love conquers all.

    But real life isn’t so simple.

    My ex and I still love each other, but we both understand it’s not enough. There were fundamental things about our visions of the future that didn’t line up. Take having children, for example. If one person wants kids and the other doesn’t, that is a fundamental difference that cannot be changed. Sure, nobody knows how the future will pan out, but it’s not fair to “settle” for the sake of love. Otherwise, there will be regret and resentment later on in the relationship.

    Things like the decision of having children, the city you want to live in, or your core values are fundamental parts of a relationship. If the fundamentals don’t align the relationship could be doomed, and you could be delaying the inevitable until one day you really do have a yelling match and break up in anger.

    My ex and I decided that we didn’t want to get to that point even though we still loved each other. We ended our relationship amiably before resentment and regret reared their ugly heads.

    So remember: love is wonderful, beautiful, and fulfilling. But it’s not always enough.

    Grieve, But Not Too Much

    It’s important to grieve our losses. Whether it’s the loss of a relationship, loved one, job, or whatever, we need to take time to be sad. We need to get in touch with our feelings and understand what we’re feeling. Labeling and being aware of our feelings is imperative in every area of life. So when you’re sad, be sad.

    Like I said earlier, I grieved in an unhealthy way. But at the time it felt good to numb the pain. I recognized what I was doing. I knew it wasn’t the best way. Still, I did it.

    And I’m happy I did. After a month of unhealthy grieving I was done with it. My productivity hit rock-bottom and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

    There are many ways to deal with grief.

    For me, I needed to start creating and writing again. I needed to travel, explore, and have adventures. I needed to connect with other people who had similar experiences to help me realize that I wasn’t alone in my pain.

    So go ahead. Grieve.

    Just don’t do it for too long or you might find yourself grieving for a long, long time.

    Don’t Do It All On Your Own

    A friend of mine sent me a blunt text message:

    “Stop drinking wine, sobbing with your ex, and move on with your life. You have a goal. Now get off your ass and make it happen.”

    Bang! We all need friends like that from time to time. We can’t do it all on our own, no matter who we are or who we’ve been in the past.

    My friend reminded me of the importance of keeping my friends and family close. Sometimes in relationships we become so enamored in our romantic partners that we neglect our relationships with friends and family.

    But when a relationship with a lover ends, who is going to be there to catch you when you fall? Who’s going to give you a listening ear, shoulder to cry on, or tough love?

    We can’t get through loss by ourselves. We need others to prop us up and push us forward.

    Keep your friends and family close, all the time, because some day you will need their love.

    No Matter What, It Was Not a Waste of Time

    It’s too easy to look back on a “failed” relationship as a waste. “Well, there goes five years of my life!” If you’re getting out of a long-term relationship it’s something that crosses your mind.

    But think back on the person you were when you first got into your relationship compared to the person you are today. Chances are you’re a different person, for the better. You’ve lived, loved, and most importantly, learned.

    Don’t look at it with the mindset that you have to start over again. You’re not starting over because you’ve grown, matured, and become a better person during your relationship.

    For me, I learned how to communicate better—skills that will continue to serve me moving forward. I learned to speak French, lived in a new city, and made a career transition. I met awesome people. I took swing dancing lessons and learned about French Canadian culture. All these things happened because of my ex-girlfriend.

    It’s easy to look back on a broken relationship as a waste of time, but when you really start to think about it you’ll realize that it’s anything but a waste.

    —

    If you’ve recently experienced a painful breakup or divorce, I’m sorry. I feel your pain. I know what you’re going through isn’t easy.

    Spend time reflecting and getting in touch with your feelings. Grieve. Be sad. Cry. Talk about it. Cry some more.

    Then move on.

    Sounds over-simplified, I know. But ultimately, being stuck in a rut is a choice.

    If your choice is to move forward I hope you do so with more confidence, purpose, and authenticity. I hope you’re able to tell yourself some of the things I’ve mentioned above.

    Live. Thrive. Life is short so make the best of it.

  • You Don’t Have to Go It Alone: How Asking for Help Brings Us Closer

    You Don’t Have to Go It Alone: How Asking for Help Brings Us Closer

    Friends

    “Asking for help does not mean that we are weak or incompetent. It usually indicates an advanced level of honesty and intelligence.” ~Anne Wilson Schaef

    For most of my life, I’ve exhibited contradicting behaviors.

    On one hand, I believe wholeheartedly in collaboration, and have always been quick to help others out. I do it at work and in my personal life. Helping a stranger parallel park, listening to a friend as they go through a hard time, these are common occurrences for me. Once I even helped a blind man walk over a mile to the nearest church…IN THE RAIN.

    #MotherTeresa

    On the other hand, I’ve had this deeply ingrained sense that I’ve needed to be independent, solve my own problems, and go it alone.

    I struggle to ask people for even simple favors like picking me up at the train station, or eating food out of a friend’s fridge even though we’ve known each other for years. I feel this sense of paranoia that somehow I am asking for too much, and I’ve had these visions of people flipping out, and me feeling humiliated and fearing I’ve created distance between us.

    I know it may sound absurd, but this is how I’ve felt for the majority of my life.

    But still, at first glance this may not seem like a big deal, especially in the light of the perks that come with it.

    In fall 2015, for example, I started an online class about Machine Learning, and within a few months I was already confidently writing code for my company. When I shared my work with a coworker, she said, “You learned all of this by yourself?” But to me, this was no surprise—when you don’t feel like it’s appropriate to ask others for help, you find a way to do it yourself.

    What I’ve come to realize, however, is that I’ve held onto the belief that I have to go it alone and can’t ask for others’ help for a unique reason: it makes me feel safe. What do I mean by this? Well, I realize that asking for others’ help is actually a very vulnerable action, and by never doing this, I never had to be vulnerable.

    This “safety” is truly a consolation prize, however; strong social relationships are a key to happiness, and an attitude of never asking for help blocks opportunities to foster personal connections. I never really felt lonely before the working world, but I was aware that I would keep friends at a distance after a certain point. The wall would come up.

    But since mutual vulnerability is necessary to foster deep connections, however, I was also holding myself back from a lot of joy.

    Of course, being vulnerable with anyone is scary, which makes it easy to forgo. I myself have used a lot of excuses and masked them as care for others. When I’d say, “I wouldn’t want to be a burden to them,” it was really code word for “I’m afraid I might be rejected.”

    If you’ve known me for a while, I hope this is an “aha” moment in understanding me. I don’t mean this in a vain way, but rather that the above paragraph describes me so well, just through writing the description, I myself feel a deep sense of relief, and even laugh a bit. After some personal growth, it seems like such an absurd (and unhelpful) way to view the world.

    So, where did this attitude come from? Well, thanks to Google, I’ve been able to psychoanalyze myself. In all seriousness, though, I think it’s a learned behavior that arose from being the youngest child amongst the three children in my family. There have been articles written on the idea of the “Invisible Child,” and that label resonates with me in a strong way.

    Basically, it describes the child who sees problems within his family, and, desperately wanting to help, remains silent about any his/her needs, wants, or problems in an effort not to burden others.

    Out of respect for my family, I won’t disclose details about our challenges, but let’s just say there was an unhealthy dynamic. As a result, from a young age—even though I was too young to understand what in particular was going on—the body language and palpable tension around me enabled me to surmise that something wasn’t right.

    So, what to do in this situation? If I couldn’t fix the situation, at least I could avoid contributing to the problem, I thought. All I had to do was solve my own problems and ask for very little, and in this way I’d make life easier for others and they wouldn’t have to worry about me.

    “Don’t burden anyone, they’ve got enough going on.” That was the motto.

    Of course, this behavior suggested an unhealthy underlying belief—others’ needs were more important than my own. An attitude counterproductive to my happiness, it meant I was likely to view my normal requests in my relationships as unreasonable, preventing me from getting what I needed and allowing anyone into my intimate world.

    This attitude manifested itself in many ways. For example, I often tried to figure out problems myself, only asking for help in dire times. I put on a mask that suggested everything was good in my life, even when it wasn’t. In addition, I never asked for more than I needed; while my brother would ask for expensive gifts like video games or the newest electronic, I always asked for something modest and often practical, like a backpack.

    As long as it wasn’t too expensive, of course.

    Whatever the reason for my difficulty with asking for help, I’ve recently come to understand that life is much richer when you realize you don’t have to go it alone.

    Thanks in large part to my girlfriend, who goes out of her way to help me through her time and connections and reminds me that we all need others’ help, I realize that life is not only easier but also more enjoyable when you allow others to help you (and, of course, give your help in return at some point down the line).

    Let me give you an example.

    Recently, I was to moving out of my apartment. With too many things to bring home—and not wanting to bring them home—I had to find a way to sell my large items quickly. Though I had put up a few ads on craigslist and Facebook, I needed help. The time crunch and the emotions of the situation left me unable to think clearly.

    Without telling me, my girlfriend also put up posts to sell the furniture, too, understanding that I was shy in asking for her help even though I wanted and needed it. Like magic, this problem that I viewed as overwhelming began to disappear, and replacing my overwhelm was deep feeling of appreciation. One by one all the items I needed to sell got sold.

    She also used her exceptional organizational skills to coordinate borrowing a friend’s truck, saving me the time, energy, and money needed to rent one myself. When I unexpectedly created a gigantic hole in the wall while moving furniture, she had the connections to have it plastered and painted, completely solving a problem that on my own would have seemed like a crisis.

    After this experience, I remember thinking and feeling a few things. First, deep love and gratitude that I have a someone in my life who cares about me so much to go to such lengths to help me out, offering her time, mind, body, and heart. And even more amazingly, she was happy to do so.

    That was the real epiphany—when I thought I’d be creating distance in my relationships by asking for help, these experiences actually brought us closer together.

    Secondly, I learned that collaboration shrinks problems that seem insurmountable to one person alone. Everyone brings a unique set of skills and perspectives to the table, and when you ask others for their help, not only do you enable them to showcase these abilities (filling them with confidence), you’re more likely to overcome the problem at hand.

    If you’re having trouble asking for help, I encourage yourself to push yourself to do so. I encourage you to figure out where that little voice and unhelpful belief is coming from.

    You are probably someone who gives often but asks for little—let me tell you now, you don’t need to be a martyr, it’s okay to ask for help. You won’t find that by doing so you create distance or that others get mad—on the other hand, you’ll find that they want to help you because they love you, and that the whole experience brings you closer together.

    It’s a really beautiful thing.

  • 5 Easy, Natural Ways to Reduce Stress

    5 Easy, Natural Ways to Reduce Stress

    Meditating on a beach

    “It’s all about finding the calm in the chaos.” ~Donna Karan

    Like my grandfather, I have always been a weather geek. I check the weather news daily and, for as long as I can remember, thunderstorms, warm/cold fronts, and clouds have fascinated me.

    Close friends of mine will be the first to tell you that I have the bad habit of stopping someone mid-sentence to point out cirrus clouds, or a storm on the horizon.

    But it’s more than just a nerdy interest. Looking at thunderstorms and clouds has always had a calming effect on me.

    A few years ago I spent a summer in Edmonton, Canada, on my first extended work assignment abroad. It started well, but after a month I began receiving negative feedback from my client on the quality of work that I was submitting. Looking back, I realize there were power struggles going on in the background, and I was the scapegoat stuck in the middle.

    But at the time it caused me a lot of stress, and each negative comment made me feel more and more like a failure.

    At the end of one rough day in particular, I received another critical email from my client. On the drive home from the office I could feel my heart accelerating and hammers bashing on my forehead, signaling the onset of a stress-induced migraine.

    My apartment sat high on a hill, and when I arrived home I happened to catch a glimpse of the outside view from the corner of my eye.

    An enormous thunderstorm dominated the horizon; turbulent masses of air and water billowed high into the sky. The sunset was hitting the tops of the clouds at an angle that made the storm look like it was on fire. Hues of orange, red, and deep gray swirled into each other.

    I was intrigued and stepped outside on my balcony to take a better look. I sat down on a chair and stayed there for at least an hour, watching churning clouds climb through the atmosphere and streaks of lightning flash through the flaming vapors.

    As I sat there, with my eyes fixed on the spectacle before me, my heart rate and breathing slowed down, and the pounding in my head abated.

    I knew that everything I was going through would pass and I felt at peace.

    We all experience stress at one point. And because we have busy lives, we don’t always have the time to go running, or do yoga, or watch a funny movie to get rid of it.

    Practicing mindfulness can be an effective alternative though. This pulls us into the present moment and can reduce our stress with minimal time and effort. Five ways we can use our surroundings to do this are to:

    1. Sit quietly by a body of water.

    Since mankind first came into existence, humans have used the calming effects of water to find peace. If you are stressed, find a river, a pond, an ocean—any body of water will do the trick. Try sitting next to the water and notice what your five senses are registering.

    Listen to the sounds of the waves or the soft gurgles of the streaming water. Watch how the wind dances across the water, changing its surface into different shades of blue. Feel the wind on your face.

    You might find that the cool water is able to carry your problems away with it.

    2. Surround yourself with plants.

    Another option for us is to spend a quiet moment in a green environment, whether it’s a park, a forest, a field, or our own backyard.

    Use your senses and concentrate on how the sun feels on your face, or the ground underneath you. Smell the grass and plants. Listen to the birds and watch the various insects and other creatures go about their daily activities.

    Surrounding ourselves with trees and grass can have a positive effect on our well-being by removing us from stressful urban environments. This gives us a chance to take deep breaths, reset our attention, and focus on the most important parts of our lives.

    3. Look at the sky.

    If you don’t have the time to find trees and water, just look up at the sky, wherever you happen to be. I’ve always loved watching thunderstorms, but the sky offers countless opportunities for us to sit back and take our minds off of our problems.

    Spotting funny shapes in clouds is useful for expanding our own creativity. A good sunset, on the other hand, with its wide spectrum of colors, helps us appreciate the beauty of the world, even if we’ve had an awful day.

    And at night the sky is lit up with the soft glow of the moon and the stars. These remind us that, in the grand scheme of things, our troubles are often a lot smaller than they feel at that particular moment.

    4. Observe the people next to you.

    Observing the people around us, however, can also be an effective method to take our minds off of a stressful situation.

    I often use this technique in airports. It’s hilarious to watch parents try and corral their small children, who are always on a mission to explore every square inch of the terminal.

    Or sometimes I pick a person walking by and create a backstory for them in my head. For example, I might imagine who they are, where they are from, and why they are in the airport at that moment.

    It sounds strange, and it’s not the same as being in nature, but at least it can be entertaining and help us to think about something else.

    5. Focus on the outside world.

    When we are stuck in the office though, sometimes the best method for us is to spend a moment quietly observing the world outside of our windows. If you can see water, or trees, these can offer similar benefits as being in nature.

    If you are in a high-rise building, and are surrounded by concrete and glass, try observing whatever is outside. Watch the cars driving by, the flashing lights of the billboards, or the people scurrying to and from work. This gives our brains a break and reminds us that we are not alone in our struggles.

    —

    Stress can come at inconvenient moments when we are unable to devote much time and energy to mitigate it. Using mindfulness to observe the world around us, even if only for a minute or two, can have immediate positive effects. .

    It’s simple and free, so why not give it a try?

  • Life Is a Cycle of Happiness, Sadness, Clarity, and Confusion

    Life Is a Cycle of Happiness, Sadness, Clarity, and Confusion

    Woman Looking Up to the Sky

    “Life is a cycle, always in motion. If good times have moved on, so will times of trouble.” ~Indian Proverb

    Two years ago I went on a volunteer trip to Vietnam, where I had hoped to find both myself and my purpose (ambitious), but instead found a rocky adventure that continues to teach me things to this day.

    I was in the middle of a difficult time that was secretly a rebirth. It’s always hard to see that when it’s happening, isn’t it?

    For a few amazing months, everything made crystal clear sense, and I felt like I could see through all realms of existence to the truth. I started listening to my body and my spirit rather than my brain. Life opened up to me.

    I uncovered a deep interest in the healing power of art, especially dance and movement. I realized said interest was embedded in who I’ve been all along, I just had to take a minute to listen and let it show itself.

    I have been a dancer all of my life, and somewhere along the way forgot that the reason I started dancing was because it allowed for joyful, authentic expression.

    Three-year-old Laura knew that. I got older and forgot—I got wrapped up in doing, in trying to be the best, in comparing myself to others, in pushing myself and my body beyond what was loving.

    I believe art is essentially a spiritual practice—any art. But, being humans (oh, humans), it’s easy to get wrapped up in the more worldly aspects of art. I’m talking recognition, fame, money, perfection, applause, all that.

    That’s cool, it happens. But what my soul really wanted to do was dance and sing around my apartment and figure out how my body wanted to move when it wasn’t being told what was “good” and what was “bad.”

    I could go on forever about this. I’ll spare you. But I implore you, make your art. Just make it, simply because it allows you to express who you are.

    You don’t have to make a big stink out of it with performances and shows. You can if that feels right. But if you don’t want to show your art to anyone and want to just create for the sake of creating, that has enormous value and is, indeed, enough.

    I started doing dance improvisations in my apartment regularly. I began going to auditions less and going to Central Park to be with nature and read about healing arts more.

    I have practiced Pilates for years to take care of dance-related injuries, and a little voice inside said, “Hey, what about teaching Pilates?”

    I said, “Alright, what the heck, let’s see.”

    I started my certification off with a full scholarship to a mat training program at a studio that welcomed me with open arms. If that’s not a nudge toward something, I don’t know what is.

    I met an amazing man approximately five days after declaring, “Okay, Laura! We are not worrying about men anymore! I am going to focus on what I am doing, and worry about that later.”

    Before meeting him, I told him flat out, “I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now,” and of course, that’s when your person waltzes right into your life. Our first year together flew by.

    I felt my heart opening up. I felt like I was expanding and moving into a different time of my life, a more authentic expression of who I am. I honored my intuition as best as I could, and it served me well. I was crazy happy. Like, hard to sleep happy.

    I remembered that I had options and choices—what an incredible blessing. I did not have to keep doing the same thing I had been pursuing for years. I was free to let other, unexplored parts of myself out into the world. This was exciting and relieving.

    I simultaneously felt like I had control and that, in fact, I didn’t need to have control, because reality was showing me the way.

    I even went to Vietnam a second time and visited the same village I taught in the year before. This time I had a cute and supportive travel companion, as well as a heck of a lot of perspective. I felt like a different version of myself, although essentially the same. (I still got hangry and coped pretty badly with jet lag…)

    And then, you know what happened? I got kind of confused again. A few months after the clarity burst, I started questioning again: “What am I doing? What should I do?” And then things were clear again. And then I was confused. And on and on. Sometimes life felt magical and sometimes it didn’t,

    Sometimes things make sense and then they don’t make sense again. It’s a spiral.

    We circle around to similar lessons, feelings, and challenges, but we experience them at different levels of awareness. And we keep hitting the same challenges until we learn the lessons we need to in order to let go and grow. At least, that’s how it seems to me.

    And it also seems that we can learn a lesson, let something go, and then later on forget we learned the lesson and need to do it again. You know what I mean?

    For my twenty-seventh birthday in June, I went out of my comfort zone to a hippie farm up in the Berkshires. I’m talking barefoot, vegan, everyone dancing all the time in the grass. It was pretty amazing, but for this city girl, at first it was a lot.

    I spent the week on retreat working through Anna Halprin’s life/art healing process. A year before, I read (more like devoured) her book Dance as a Healing Art during my daily trips to Central Park.

    The book was one of the first I read during my period of magic. It was very cool to be in the mountains a year later doing the work myself. We danced, wrote, sang, drew, cried, laughed, and supported each other through our individual journeys of self-discovery and healing.

    I met some amazing people that I felt deep connections with very quickly. I was skeptical at first, but I did my best to trust the process, and the results were pretty astounding.

    One of the last days of the workshop was my actual birthday. I gathered the resources I had created over the week—my writing, drawings, notes, and dances—and saw a message in all of them.

    Ultimately, what my heart was saying was “Go deep into yourself and just be.” That was an interesting message, because I came there looking for answers about what to do.

    For a week after that workshop was over, I felt like I had expanded, just as I had felt the year before when all the magic was happening, but this time on a deeper level. I felt like I was high. (I wasn’t, I swear).

    I felt so secure, so calm, so content just to be—happy sipping tea with my man across from me, happy walking through trees in the rain, happy watching the sky. It was one of the most profound experiences I have ever had, and it all came from being.

    Since I’ve been back, I’ve settled back into my humanity, meaning, sometimes I feel grounded and free and other times I feel confused and irritable. I’m getting the impression that this cycle is kind of the way it is, and part of the human experience. Perhaps the cycle is the human experience.

    We are in constant motion and everything changes, but this doesn’t have to be scary (even though it is).

    Actually, it can be amazingly freeing, because in moments of loneliness or confusion, you can trust that there will also be moments of deep love, connection, and clarity.

    Dance the dance, sing the song, write the story, draw the shapes, and embody who you are.

    One of my all time favorite quotes is “Joy is the other side of sadness,” which I heard Sharon Salzberg say at Tibet House in NYC almost ten years ago, when I first discovered meditation.

    I say this frequently to people who feel guilty or worried about not feeling happy. Joy is not just feeling happy and clear. Joy is also feeling sad and confused with an open heart.

    Perhaps the universe lines things up for you in lightening moments of clarity as encouragement, a gesture of unconditional love. But then it pulls away and leaves you to navigate on your own, to wrestle with the uncertainties and take leaps of faith into unchartered territory.

    Discovery isn’t nearly as rewarding, beautiful, and profound if you know the exact path to getting there. Up and down, round and round, we keep going, getting closer and closer to who we are.

  • Healing After an Affair: How to Get Through the Pain of Infidelity

    Healing After an Affair: How to Get Through the Pain of Infidelity

    “I will breathe. I will think of solutions, I will not let my worry control me. I will not let my stress level break me. I will simply breathe. And it will be okay. Because I don’t quit.” ~Shayne McClendon

    It was a Wednesday afternoon in late July, and I felt like my entire world was coming to an end. My husband of almost eleven years had become distant, and during a phone call on my lunch break he told me he couldn’t do this anymore. That evening he told me he no longer loved me and wanted a divorce.

    It wasn’t until several weeks later that I learned about another woman and reached a low I never thought possible. What just happened to my life? Just a few short weeks ago I was laughing, smiling, and enjoying my life to the fullest. Now I could barely get out of bed.

    I spent the next several months feeling like I had no control over my own emotions.

    I’d see pictures in our home where he no longer lived and break down sobbing.

    I’d hear songs while driving and literally have to pull over until I could pull myself together.

    I’d hide in my room for hours at a time so our children didn’t see mommy crying.

    I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t sleeping, my work was suffering, and I was barely making it through my day. I wanted to make this pain stop, to sleep until I figured out that this was all a bad dream. It never happened.

    I had to face the fact no matter how much I wanted it to change, the facts were the facts: My husband was having an affair and I had no idea what to do.

    I had spent my whole life saying if I were ever cheated on, I just kick him to the curb and never look back. So why was I feeling like I didn’t want my marriage to end? No one ever tells you that this conflict might come up, and no one tells you this is completely normal.

    I began reading everything I could find. I was desperately trying to make sense of a situation that made absolutely no sense to me.

    We were happy. We were the couple everyone wanted to be. I beat myself up wondering how I missed this coming. I wondered why I even cared, and why I would want to save a relationship that was causing me so much pain.

    Was I so selfish that I never saw how unhappy he was? Could I have prevented it from happening? How was I going to become a single mom? How were our kids going to get through this? And the biggest question: Am I going to just give up without a fight?

    That question changed everything for me. I decided, right then and there, that I would not just give up.

    I was a fighter, and no matter the outcome, I would give my all. While I knew I couldn’t make any choices for him, I also knew I couldn’t live with just giving up on him and my family. This man I knew and loved for so long had to be hurting too.

    The information about affairs online is absolutely overwhelming. My search engine became my best friend. As the questions came, I would type them in and search through the thousands of articles for hours and hours. Below are the top ten things that would ultimately give me back control over my own life.

    1. Stop and breathe.

    It sounds so simple, yet when you feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut, breathing can seem like the hardest thing in the world to do.

    When strong emotions came up, I learned to count backwards from a hundred by threes. A hundred (big breath in through the nose), ninety-seven (exhale through the mouth), ninety-four (big breath in through the nose). Counting by threes forces your brain to focus on something other than the intruding thoughts and worries.

    I did this a lot of this throughout the days to come. After a while, I finally felt as though I could control my own breathing no matter what was happening around me. At a time when I felt as if I had no control over anything, I finally discovered that I could control something: I could control myself.

    2. Start writing.

    Get a pen and paper, grab your computer, or put a journal app on your phone. Whatever works best for you, just start doing it. There is something about writing down whatever you are feeling that allows you to release some of the emotion behind it.

    In the beginning I felt like I didn’t have the energy to do this. Once I started writing, I realized how much of my energy I could get back by releasing some of the pain I was feeling.

    3. Eat.

    I literally stopped eating. The thought of food made me sick to my stomach. I had no energy and dropped an entire pant size in two short weeks.

    Eat anything. Soup and watermelon became my lifeline. Make it simple, make it nutritious, but make it happen.

    You need your energy to get through this, and I promise, you will get through this. I began to notice that when my body was getting the nutrition it needed, I was able to think more clearly and sleep more soundly, which leads me to the next tip.

    4. Sleep.

    Maybe you’re like me. All you want to do is sleep, yet when it comes time to go to bed you are haunted by thoughts and emotions you never knew existed. For me, going to bed was just a reminder that my husband was not there. We used to cuddle every night before falling asleep, and suddenly I was left with an empty bed.

    I learned about guided meditation and would use it to drift off to sleep. If I awoke in the middle of the night, I stopped fighting it, got up, and wrote, and allowed myself to cry. I would write and cry for hours until I had nothing left to say or feel and drifted back to sleep.

    5. Talk.

    I never realized how creative my brain was and how many false ideas and images it could conjure up on its own. We want to believe we know what is happening, and when we don’t, our brains create some pretty convincing visuals.

    Find someone, anyone that you can talk to. Make your intentions clear. I wanted to save my marriage. I didn’t want people telling me to forget about him, that I deserve better, to just move on. So I stopped talking to anyone.

    When we only have our own voice, we have no choice but to believe all the lies we tell ourselves. I would tell myself I must not be good enough, I must have been doing something wrong, maybe I’m not pretty enough, smart enough. The list is endless. We need our people now more than ever.

    I needed someone who could ground me when my brain was running wild. Whether that’s a friend, coach, therapist, or family member, just find someone you can talk openly with. Find someone who will listen without judgment.

    6. Get active.

    Maybe you already exercise daily, and that is great. I never exercised, ever. I hated it and I still do. But during this time I found the value in it.

    Yoga was easy and relaxing, and so was walking. I realized that it gave me some me time. It allowed space to clear my head if only for a few minutes, and those minutes were glorious. It didn’t always work. Some days I just couldn’t clear my head, and I learned that is okay too.

    I learned how to give myself grace. I learned that there is no perfect way to do or get through this. Just take one step at a time, keep putting one foot in front of the other, and don’t stop trying.

    7. Know that whatever you are feeling is normal.

    You will experience a rollercoaster of emotions that you never thought were possible. How can you possibly love and hate someone so much at the same time? How can you go from laughing to crying in a matter of seconds?

    You may feel embarrassment, shame, guilt, love, hope, and everything in between. The rollercoaster is real, and you know what, it is completely normal. This realization was one of the most freeing.

    No matter how you are feeling at this very moment, it will change, I promise. No matter what you are feeling, it’s normal. There is no right or wrong way to feel with this, it just is. It is just how you are feeling right now, and that’s okay.

    8. Know that this has nothing to do with you.

    It was all too easy for me to blame myself. It was my fault that he no longer loved me. I would learn that this never had anything to do with me.

    I did not make these choices for him. I did not do anything to cause him to make these choices. He didn’t ask me ahead of time. He didn’t even tell me that he was unhappy. These were choices that he made completely on his own.

    He was suffering, and when someone else boosted his self-esteem, he latched on as if it were his only lifeline. He didn’t realize how much he had been hurting over the years. All he knew was that he wanted to feel good, and because he didn’t know why hadn’t felt good before, he blamed me for his years of misery.

    He eventually learned that it was never about me. He learned that no matter how far he ran, he couldn’t out run his own demons.

    I later learned that while we can all work to improve how we show up in our relationships, nothing we are doing or not doing excuses an affair. However, since I wanted to save my marriage, I had to take a long hard look at myself and see where I could show up better in my marriage.

    I learned how to be a better listener. I learned how to be more compassionate and understanding when my husband was going through a difficult time. I learned the art of patience. And I learned what unconditional love really means.

    9. Make time for you.

    What did you enjoy doing before you were a couple? What hobbies or activities do you have on your own? If you don’t have any now is a great time to find one.

    Look at what is being offered in your community. Look at local schools. Did you always want to learn to cook? Take a cooking class. How about sewing, yoga, finances, painting, or computers? Take a class. Whatever it is for you, find something. Find something you can do at least one night a week and commit to it.

    Sometimes in marriage we forget who we are as an individual. Now is the time to rediscover that person. The added bonus to this if you are looking to save your marriage is that your spouse fell in love with who you were as an individual. Bringing that person back can be eye opening for the one who left.

    10. Give it time.

    Last, but definitely not least, know that this will take time. Research shows it takes an average two years to heal from the pain of an affair. I hated this advice in the beginning because I wanted to feel better right then. But time has helped me realize that it really is the best medicine.

    Right now all you can do is decide how you will spend that time. You can fight to find the blessings in disguise and learn and grow, or you can choose to become bitter and allow yourself to remain the victim of the cards that were dealt to you.

    I choose to fight, I choose to learn, I choose to grow.

    Change and healing didn’t happen overnight. Both my husband and I had to put in a lot of hard work. We read and listened to more information than I ever thought possible. We sought out therapy as a couple and as individuals to heal our past hurts and coaching to help move us in the direction we wanted to go.

    Ultimately, we learned that our communication had to improve. He needed to be able to communicate when he was upset about things, and I needed to be able to receive this information without becoming confrontational or defensive. His openness and honesty allowed us to begin our healing process and start restoring trust in our relationship.

    One day it dawned on me that I hadn’t thought about the affair at all for several days. I wept as I realized I had my life back, only it wasn’t the life I had thought I wanted a few years ago. It was a life that had become better than anything I could have ever imagined.

    Three short years later and both my husband and I will tell you we are happier than we have ever been. Our marriage is stronger than it ever was. Our connection is greater and our communication is better.

    Looking back on that day when I thought my life was coming to an end I now smile, realizing that for us, it was the start of a new beginning. While I never wish the pain we endured on anyone, I have learned that sometimes the greatest pain brings us the greatest blessings.

  • How We Avoid Our Feelings and How Embracing Them Sets Us Free

    How We Avoid Our Feelings and How Embracing Them Sets Us Free

    Eyes

    “We numb our minds and heart so one need not be broken and the other need not be bothered.” ~Peggy Haymes

    Feelings are important, no doubt about it. They communicate all sorts of information to us. I don’t know about you, but I’ve preferred to ignore some of that information. Raise your hand if you would much rather feel the good feelings and just jump right over the not so good ones.

    Okay, so it’s unanimous. We all prefer the good, happy feelings. I expect we are all experts at finding ways to avoid the uncomfortable ones. But maybe we can share some avoidance techniques and try something new.

    I like to eat. Food has been synonymous with love in my world. It comforts… until it doesn’t, right? Alcohol? Well, thank heaven I was spared addiction, because, but for the grace of God, there go I.

    Running and exercise were at least a healthier alternative to dealing with my feelings, and I did feel a little better about myself, so that was justifiable, I’m sure. Oh, and let’s not forget a good movie, or even a bad one is a great distractor. Binge watching is even better.

    So, let’s add to the list. What do you do to avoid those uncomfortable feelings? Just take a minute to think about it. What are your avoidance techniques? Okay, time is up.

    Do you shop for stuff you do not need?

    Are you constantly on the go?

    Do you peruse social media incessantly, call or text anyone available?

    Do you eat, drink, and be merry?

    Spend more time with Match.com than you do with yourself?

    Do you clean your house, obsessively making sure everything is in its place?

    Lose yourself in a book?

    Surround yourself with so much chaos that you can hardly hear yourself think?

    Or maybe you avoid certain places or people or being alone.

    Do you work long hours?

    Get a front row seat into the life of someone that appears messier than you?

    The list could go on and on. So, pick your favorites and have at it.

    But before you do, I have to tell you that, in hindsight, I was one of the lucky ones.

    I was lucky because I could not keep avoiding those uncomfortable feelings, no matter how hard I tried or what avoidance technique I used. They were like a bad penny that kept showing up.

    If you want to know how that made me lucky, read on. If you prefer to just add some avoidance techniques to what you are already doing, then you can stop reading now.

    So, why was I lucky?

    Because, you see, my feelings ended up being my North Star to the life I wanted.

    First, some education: Feelings, and the emotions that go with them, like absolutely everything else in life, are energy. Energy, by its very nature, has to keep moving. Unfortunately, too many of us learned, at a rather young age, to stuff feelings down deep. Until expressed, those feelings still live on in our bodies.

    We often stuff them so deeply that we don’t necessarily know they exist, unless we are paying attention. Whether you recognize it or not, I assure you those feelings are still having a profound impact on your life. They follow you around in your relationships and in your interactions with yourself and others.

    Your feelings don’t keep you from being all that you can be. They don’t keep you from getting what you want. Your avoidance of them does.

    They show up in the tweak you feel inside when someone says something you don’t like. Or when the voice in your head is saying something different from what is actually coming out of your mouth.

    Maybe they make themselves known when you are driving in traffic or when your child is not obedient.

    How about when your spouse doesn’t help around the house the way you want or when your friends let you down?

    Maybe it shows up in the jealousy or envy you feel for others.

    And let’s not forget the way we tolerate inappropriate behaviors from others.

    The invitation can be subtle. Listen for it. Watch for it. It is always beckoning.

    Feelings left unresolved in our bodies result in dis-ease—mental, physical, and spiritual.

    At some point in my life, despite running, literally and figuratively, the feelings I was trying so desperately to avoid caught up with me.

    I had been running from feelings left over from childhood. I was angry. I was sad. I felt unloved. My self-worth was in the toilet. I tried not to notice.

    Having never learned my value, I unknowingly invited further abuse in my twenties. Running helped me deal with the emotional energy and irritability without my processing the feelings in ways that would permit resolution. In fact, I did not know feelings could be resolved. I thought, “I guess I will always feel this way.” I was wrong. Thank God I was wrong!

    So now, like one of those 5k races, I had run out of steam and I could not outrun my pursuer. So, unable to avoid any longer, I instead began to befriend those difficult feelings. Admittedly, I begrudgingly befriended those feelings, but befriend them I did.

    And I am forever grateful for having done so.

    I learned to be present to my own pain.

    Life is a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly. Many of us have experienced some degree of childhood abuse, bullying, neglect, or trauma. The truth is, even in the best of circumstances, we have painful experiences and loss.

    As kids we were powerless. We were dependent on the adults in our lives, unable to fend for ourselves. That left us pretty vulnerable to our environment. As kids we were also pretty ingenious, finding phenomenal ways to defend against situations and feelings we could not handle.

    I became an extension of my dad, trying to be as agreeable and as like him as possible. If Dad was happy, I was better off.

    The problem is, I became the agreeable one in my adult relationships, denying the essence of who I was. I was taking care of the people around me better than I was taking care of myself. I hid who I was assuming it was not acceptable, since in childhood, it was not. What worked in helping me survive childhood ceased to serve its purpose in my adult relationships.

    In fact, those survival skills impede us from being whole, accomplishing our dreams, and having the healthy, intimate relationships we actually want. Unresolved feelings can leave us feeling depressed, anxious, physically sick, and any other number of symptoms. I had them all.

    I remember sitting in my family room one day, thinking. I probably don’t have to tell you how dangerous thinking can be! It’s one of the things we are often trying to avoid. I sure was. The next thing I knew, I was wiping down an already clean kitchen counter. As I regained consciousness from my obvious lapse, a light bulb came on.

    I realized that I did not like what I was thinking about, because it made me feel something I had no interest in feeling.

    Without any conscious awareness, I had gotten up and moved to the kitchen. Now, having woken up from my sleepwalking, I said to myself, “I keep moving to avoid my feelings.”

    Bingo!

    That awareness was a turning point for me, as I began to pay closer attention to the ways that I was avoiding myself, my thoughts, and my feelings.

    As a result of my newfound awareness, another light bulb moment happened one day while driving. I was entering the highway from a two-lane ramp, when a huge dump truck decided to cut over in front of me. I, having little choice, hit my brakes; otherwise, I would have hit him. Man, was I ticked!

    This was not a new experience for me. Trucks cutting me off always left me angry. That was the invitation. I had ignored it long enough. This time I was paying attention.

    Having a history of being pushed around by men, I had learned to be very quiet and compliant, in my attempts to avoid their wrath. Their unresolved anger was taken out on me and being smaller and weaker, I had little choice but to endure.

    Those unresolved feelings still festered inside, and every time a vehicle bigger than me “pushed” me into another lane or forced me to relinquish my right, those feelings got triggered.

    Now, I had something to work with. I needed to be angry. I needed to be sad and I needed to cry. I also needed to feel the powerlessness that had been mine.  

    This was just one of many aha moments I had on this journey of self-discovery. Feelings of anger, grief, sadness, and loss showed up in so many ways and for so many reasons. I finally allowed them to express themselves.

    So, yes, I was lucky. I could not avoid my feelings any longer.

    Through this process, I began to get more comfortable with the pain. It ebbed and flowed like the tides. I found the support I needed and could trust. This is not something we can often do alone.

    I chose to take myself to a psychotherapist, and that turned out to be one of the best things that I ever did for myself. “When the student is ready, the teacher will come.”

    I also began to deal with my self-esteem issues. My inner voice was harsh and judgmental. My feelings about myself were pretty hateful. Each feeling led to the next, taking me deeper into my own experience, and like the proverbial onion, I peeled it back.

    I was being invited to heal. And heal I did. Had I not gone through it myself, I would not have believed that my own transformation could take place in the way that it did. I was made new.

    Learning to sit with my feelings freed me from the need to live in avoidance mode day in and day out. I was no longer fearful. I was better able to go with the flow of life.

    As feelings showed up, I processed them by giving them voice and expression. They were leading me somewhere, and although I was not certain of the destination, I began to trust them.

    As the old feelings began to find their rest, I began to feel better. I was less depressed and less anxious, until I was neither. I enjoyed myself more. My relationships began to be easier. I was more comfortable in my own skin.

    Weeding through those difficult feelings was not easy, but neither was the way I had been living my life previous to having them. I had been afraid to speak up. I had been afraid of being ridiculed. I didn’t like myself. I was more uncomfortable than not. My relationships were distant and disconnected. I was living beneath my potential.

    The avoidance of those feelings controlled my life in more ways than I had been aware.

    We all avoid; it is human nature. We are afraid of the unknown. We are afraid we will collapse and never get up again. We are afraid of spiraling out of control. We are afraid of what change means. We are afraid of what others will think. We are afraid of so many things. And so we avoid.

    We tell ourselves, “It was in the past” or “It happened so long ago.” And lets not forget the “shoulds”: “I should be over this.” “I should let this go.”

    People would tell me, “Let it go.” I would think, “Don’t you think I would if I could?”

    People would say, “Get over it.” I would wonder, “How do I do that?”

    I would think of the people who hurt me, “They did the best they could. What’s wrong with me?”

    I realize now that those telling me to “let it go” or “get over it” were not dealing with their own feelings. And telling myself, “They did the best they could” may be true, but it did not eliminate the fact that what they did hurt me. It was just another way for me to avoid the hurt.

    There was nothing wrong with me. My feelings were about me. No one else. It wasn’t about blame. It was about acknowledging myself and listening to my pain.

    Unexpectedly, I began to trust myself. I learned what it meant to take care of myself and to follow my heart. I made myself a priority. I finally understood what it meant to “let go,” and I could. I made peace with my past, began to enjoy the present, and started to look forward to the future. I was excited about the possibilities.

    Don’t let anyone else tell you how it is. Don’t wait for someone else to make it okay for you to do what you need to do. Don’t minimize your own experience.

    I want to invite you to wake up. Dig in. Lean in.

    Know yourself, understand yourself, learn to love yourself. Pay attention. There are buzzwords like meditation, mindfulness, and self-awareness. Pick one and put it into practice.

    It’s okay to be scared and uncertain. It’s okay to find the support you need. Be your own best friend. Let those feelings have their day. Release them from your body. It will change your life in ways you cannot even imagine.

    You deserve to be free. You will be amazed at your own transformation. You deserve to have all that your heart desires. Can you hear it calling you?

  • Healing from Depression: It Begins With Asking for Help

    Healing from Depression: It Begins With Asking for Help

    Adult Man Crying

    “I speak of a clinical depression that is the background of your entire life, a background of anguish and anxiety, a sense that nothing goes well, that pleasure is unavailable and all your strategies collapse.” ~Leonard Cohen

    Right before my eighteenth birthday, when I was about to go to university, I was hit by a car and sustained multiple fractures to my right leg. This led to a couple of operations and the best part of ten months with me unable to walk.

    While all of my school friends and peers were having the time of their lives in school, I was silently suffering with depression and anxiety, both of which continued to increase.

    Whether it was the weed I smoked, the bottles of whiskey I drank, or the junk food I ate, I could not find comfort or relief from anywhere. Things just got worse, and I felt absorbed and consumed by the victim mentality that I had let penetrate my identity.

    I dropped out of university after re-doing my first year. Despite passing, I just couldn’t go back. I was so ashamed to be me. I didn’t even tell my future housemates that I wouldn’t be returning.

    About this time I realized there was a problem. In retrospect, it should have been glaringly obvious to me, with the self-medicating that was going on, but of course it’s harder to spot problems in ourselves.

    In two years I had gone from one of the most outgoing people I knew, someone who always liked to do things like play sports or party, to a recluse who needed some sort of alternate state of consciousness to function. I started working and going out again on the weekends with some of my old friends and people I had met through work.

    Naively I thought the problems were dissipating and I was returning to who I used to be. Now I look back on it and I know that the younger me had no idea who I was. Things leveled out for a few years until one day I had a breakdown on the way to work.

    There was now no denying the extent of the problem, but hell, if you are in denial you can dig your heels in pretty firmly, and that’s what I did.

    After a few more years of self-medicating, something happened, and to this day I can’t put my finger on the trigger, but something changed that made me realize enough was enough. A good friend recommended a therapist to me, and I was keen to see him and work through the issues that had been building up for seven years.

    So I met with Peter and it seemed like an expensive chat with a nice guy for the first five or six sessions. Around this time I also had had a regular meditation practice. One day whilst meditating I felt like I gave myself permission to open up at the next session with Peter, but I have no idea from where or by whom this permission had been granted.

    I was finally able to approach the issues with candor and rank honesty. I was able to bare my soul and describe how I had felt.

    It’s weird to think that at the age of twenty-five this was perhaps one of the first times I’d done this, but I’d been so suffocated by depression and anxiety, and numbed by my self-medicating, that I had not once looked under the surface to see what things were really like inside. 

    Therapy began to get in to the nitty gritty of what was causing me to feel how I felt.

    I had a fortunate and mostly happy childhood. My parents always did their best for my brothers and me. I could never doubt that. Interestingly, though, there were some wounds from my formative years that may well have contributed to me making some less than ideal choices in my teenage years.

    Add to this the massive fear of missing out and jealously of my peers when I began university, and it’s a perfect recipe for some kind of psychological disorder, which in my case manifested as depression and anxiety.

    I want to take a moment to describe the feeling of depression and anxiety as I experienced it, because I think too often in many parts of our society they are not described in their full ugliness.

    Imagine waking up and feeling sick. Sometimes you throw up, sometimes you don’t. You then have to think about going to work. These thoughts mainly contain a deep sense of dread—not dread of anything in particular, but dread at the overall sense of having to interact with the world.

    It’s so hard to describe because I wasn’t scared of interacting with people and I had friends, I just didn’t want anybody to know me.

    After the dread comes self-loathing. I wasn’t worth knowing. I wasn’t worthy of any attention or any of the good things in life. How could anybody want to be around me? I didn’t feel deserving of anything really, and I projected this on to my work life, where I never tried anywhere near as hard as I could.

    If it were the weekend, I’d do the only thing I knew that would help me: smoke weed or get drunk. It seems ridiculous now, and it probably is, that despite me being anxious and paranoid about going out, I would smoke weed, which only served to exacerbate this reluctance to leave the house. But it was my crutch; it held me up. (It didn’t, it made things worse.)

    I’m aware of the futility of describing feelings in explicit terms. Nobody else but me will know exactly how I felt.

    It’s like having a weighted vest on your chest that makes doing anything difficult. It’s like having the most negative person you could think of on your shoulder constantly nagging you, deeply instilling a sense of not being good enough and destroying any modicum of self-worth and self-respect that remained.

    Despite this being my personal experience, I now know that I was not alone. Nearly a fifth of people in the UK, where I live, suffer with depression or anxiety at some stage in their lives. This I am okay with, it’s natural. Life has its downs, bad stuff happens, and it is our psyche’s way of dealing with it.

    What I am not okay with is that it’s estimated that 50-80% of people suffering with depression do not receive treatment. 

    The stigma surrounding mental health issues in functional human beings is astounding. Because of our society’s attitude toward mental health, many people suffer in silence, and suffer much longer than they might need to.

    I want people to know that you can talk to people. You can get help. There are support structures in place through healthcare providers that can give you a light at the end of the tunnel.

    I was one of the lucky ones who, through a stroke of luck, found a way to ask for the help I needed. I’m still not sure how that happened, but I know I am forever grateful for it.

    Through therapy, learning to accept myself, and my meditation practice, I am fortunate enough to say I don’t think I will head down that road again. And I know that the people around me will help me. If not, then I can pay to see qualified professionals who will be able to give me the help I need.

    I know we have weeks and campaigns to raise awareness of these issues, but this is something we should always be aware of.

    If you are the one who is suffering, know that there are people out there who can help. If you’re suffering in silence and carrying on, then you have already shown you are brave enough to ask for help.

    If you know somebody who is suffering, remind them that you are there for them, and that there are people who can help.

    With the rate of diagnoses of these types of illnesses increasing over the last half a century or so, it’s more important than ever that we are able to help each other in anyway we can, especially with something as quintessentially human as our feelings.

    There are a few links below to free online resources that can provide support in dealing with your feelings. Of course, you can also discuss how you feel with a trusted friend or family member, or a professional. However you do it, know that taking the first step and asking for help is how it starts to get better.

    Anxiety Forum – Recommendations and a forum to discuss anxiety

    The American Psychological Association – Site includes research on anxiety, getting help, psychology news, and helpful books pertaining to the illness.

    Depression Forums – Offers a caring, safe environment for members to talk to their peers about depression, anxiety, mood disorders, medications, therapy, and recovery.

    Mental Health Forum – Loads of information and a friendly place to discuss mental health issues.

    British Association for Counselling & Psychotherapy – Find a UK therapist.

    For further resources see the Tiny Buddha Helpful Free Resources page

  • One Simple Word That Can Change Your Life (And No, It’s Not “Thanks”)

    One Simple Word That Can Change Your Life (And No, It’s Not “Thanks”)

    “It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.” ~Epictetus

    About nine years back I was at the lowest point of my life.

    We had been trying to start a family for close to four years by that point.

    The forty-plus consecutive months of “not pregnant” verdict were starting to take their toll on me. That second line on the pregnancy test strip seemed like it would never appear. Life felt like it was a never-ending cycle of false hope that was always crushed in the end.

    I wouldn’t wish that kind of despair on my worst enemy.

    I am a huge believer in the power of gratitude. I tried hard to look at all that we did have and find contentment in where we were. But anywhere I turned, it seemed like all I could see was pregnant women, or moms with children. And instantly, it would pull my thoughts back to this one thing that was lacking in our life.

    I sincerely believe that “thanks” is one of the most powerful words in any spoken vocabulary. And that gratitude is one of the best antidotes to many of the problems we face.

    In this situation, though, where I was hanging by a thin frayed strand that threatened to snap any minute, there was another word that helped me more in keeping it together.

    And that’s the simple word “yet.”

    Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. I reminded myself:

    I’m not pregnant yet.

    It’s not our time yet.

    Even as I eventually started to make peace with the fact that we would not have kids naturally, I hung on to that one word.

    There’s no need to despair yet.

    It’s not time to give up yet.

    We just haven’t found out a workable option to start our family yet.

    It is perhaps the simplest, most under-rated word in the English language. But the power it can have on transforming our outlook is immense.

    “Yet” makes things less final.

    Whether it is a battle with infertility, a project that isn’t going the way we expected, or a relationship that’s constantly devolving, the simple word “yet” can transform the negative thoughts in our mind into something that feels less final.

    And that opens up the space to breathe. To live. To look for alternatives. To look for solutions. Or simply to get through another day.

    “I failed [at something]” is so final. It feels suffocating. It leaves very little room for us to maneuver.

    “I haven’t succeeded yet” transforms the exact same event into something that has hope. Something with a better future. Something we can change. Something in our control.

    “Yet” makes learning easier.

    After the four-year struggle with infertility, we were finally blessed with a beautiful daughter.

    You would think that after the experience we had, we would have treated her like a princess and lived happily ever after.

    Things didn’t quite work out like that for us.

    I was at that time in a very stressful job. My daughter had amply inherited the stubbornness genes from both sides of the family tree. I used to be a bit of a control freak.

    Apparently, those things don’t mix well.

    Before I even knew it, my daughter and I were butting heads on a regular basis and we were stuck in daily tantrums and power struggles.

    I used to perpetually feel like a lousy mom.

    Until one day I had the epiphany: I’m not a bad mom. I just haven’t figured out this parenting thing yet.

    Adding that one simple word to the way I thought about the situation opened the doors to learning and to keep trying until we were back on track again. It paved the way for what has been a three-year journey of discovering and embracing the positive parenting philosophy.

    My daughter has blossomed right before my eyes. Our relationship has improved by leaps and bounds.

    All because I now see myself as someone who has yet to learn things, instead of flogging myself when I fail (and fail I do… parenting a strong willed child is not for the weak of heart!)

    “Yet” makes dealing with others easier.

    Over the course of time, yet has become the default lens through with I see others around me as well.

    When my daughter is being difficult I remind myself: She is not trying to get to me. She simply hasn’t learnt how to manage her emotions and behavior yet.

    When a friend makes what I think is a poor choice, I tell myself: It’s not my place to change her. She hasn’t experienced her share of what life has in store for her yet.

    When I’m having a rough time working with someone, I say to myself: She’s new to this. She hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet.

    Just as with difficult situations, the simple word “yet” makes it easier to deal with difficult people as well.

    And discovering this has been a great blessing for all my relationships.

    Beware, though. Watch out for this caveat.

    I would be remiss if I just focused on the positive effects of the power of “yet” and not talked about its negative impact.

    Unlike some other power words like “thanks,” “yet” is not a stand-alone, but rather an amplifier of what we think.

    When used in a negative context, “yet” can make things orders of magnitude worse.

    For instance, when we get stuck thinking poorly of ourselves, even a success might make us think: My regular clumsiness (or ill-luck) hasn’t caught up with me yet.

    We need to watch out for these, and strip them of the power of “yet” as soon as possible.

    The other day my daughter and I were happily coloring together in a parent-child journal I created. She was doing a great job, so I complimented her on it.

    She sat back, looked at it and said with a smile: “It does look good, doesn’t it? I just means I haven’t messed it up yet.”

    She probably meant it as a self-deprecating joke, but I couldn’t let it pass.

    So I replied back with a smile, “No honey. It means you’ve done a great job coloring today!”

    Sometimes, there’s just no place for the word “yet.”

    So now, a question for you: What is the one situation in your life right now that can be transformed by the power of “yet”?

  • 3 Ways We Unconsciously Sabotage Our Relationships (And How to Stop)

    3 Ways We Unconsciously Sabotage Our Relationships (And How to Stop)

    Couple in love

    “Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source.” ~Anaïs Nin

    As a long-time commitment-phobe, my love life has been somewhat inconsistent, to say the least, but this year it seemed I’d finally met someone I was ready and able to think about building a future with. Still, along with this feeling of hope came some challenges that I had never experienced before in a relationship. (And yes, it did occur to me that maybe these two things went together!)

    I knew I loved my partner, but we often seemed to argue about nothing in particular. This was bewildering to me. I really couldn’t understand what had gone wrong! But, thanks to her patient reflecting to me, I recognized how I was contributing to this pattern, and why I needed to alter my own attitudes and behavior rather than blaming my partner and expecting her to change.

    I began thinking about all this because it was frustrating to get into a shouting match but not be able to remember what had kicked it all off, only to realize, at the end of it, that we could both have used that time in many more enjoyable or productive ways.

    I was sick of feeling stressed about it all, so when the opportunity came up at the local community center, I took a mindfulness class. My expectations weren’t that high, to be honest, but I was ready to try anything!

    One challenging exercise was to take a step back from reacting when things got heated between us so that I could see more clearly what was actually going on, what I was doing to fan the flames, and some ways I could change.

    One bad habit, I discovered, was how I would often interpret what my lover had said to me in the most negative possible way. If she told me I seemed tired, I’d worry she was saying I wasn’t as good in bed; or, if she said I was looking “healthy,” I’d think she meant I was putting on weight.

    I had been too ashamed to actually share these thoughts with her, to see if what I was hearing was what she actually meant. But finally, I couldn’t avoid it any longer. So I plucked up the courage to share these vulnerable feelings, only to discover that I was creating almost all that negativity in my own head.

    I realized that my interpretations stemmed from my own low level of trust and self-confidence; and that I needed a lot more reassurance from my partner than I had been willing to admit.

    I understood how, because of my history, including the strained relationship I’d had with my parents when I was a child, I found it hard to accept love, even from the person I was closest to. This was hurtful and frustrating for her, and it was making me miserable.

    In a strange kind of twist, I was nervous about being happy, even though it was what I wanted, because that meant the risk of being hurt and disappointed, as I’d been in my childhood. The only antidote to these fears seemed to be to learn to love and accept myself for who I was, and not be dependent on getting approval from anyone else.

    My partner has been very supportive with this, and paradoxically, this sense of greater emotional independence has made it possible for me to risk being, and feeling, closer and more loving with her.

    After reflecting more on the roots of conflict in our relationship, I identified our three main types of communication and saw how confusing them could easily create a mismatch between the intention of what we were saying to each other and how the other interpreted it.

    This often led to an argument, which was nothing more than two people with different perspectives each pointlessly trying to convince the other that they were right—a futile pattern that were both keen to avoid.

    You might recognize some, or all, of these; if so, what I learned about how to defuse them might work for you too.

    1. Arguing with emotions.

    These are statements of fact about the experience of the person sharing them—i.e.: “I feel nervous when you drive that fast”—so there’s no point in disagreeing with them.

    My mistake was to respond to this kind of statement as if it were my partner’s opinion, and then disagree with it.

    Or, I’d respond to personal statements, such as “I feel like you don’t listen to me,” or “You don’t prioritize sending time with me” with a rebuttal, such as “What do you mean, of course I do,” or defensiveness, i.e.: “You’re always criticizing me!”

    Denying her reality like this was a sure way of disempowering and upsetting her. Instead, I’m learning to be more tuned in to how she’s feeling, and to respond in ways that validate this and show that it’s important to me.

    So now I might respond with, “I’m sorry you feel that way. Can you explain more?” or “Is there anything that I could do differently to change this?” Then I’ll try to act on any response she has given me.

    This listening and hearing builds a bridge of trust between us, rather than the wall I used to put up, and makes it much easier for us to find compromises and solutions. It changes from being a zero sum conversation to a win- win.

    If you ever deny your partner’s feelings, take a step back before responding and get curious instead of defensive. It’s not easy, but validating each other’s emotions creates an atmosphere of love, care, and understanding.

    2. Stating opinions as facts.

    The trouble was, we both used to express opinions as if they were facts, the underlying assumption being that one of us was right, and therefore, anyone with a different point of view was wrong. Now, I appreciate and accept that my partner and I can have different perspectives on anything, and neither of us is necessarily more right. I can accept and enjoy our differences rather than being threatened by them.

    Formerly, my partner would express opinions like “You’re being selfish,” or even “You work too much!” to me as if they were facts. It was hard for me not to feel judged and criticized.

    If she insisted, this led to angry denials. In a perfect world, she would always recognize that these are opinions. But it’s a fact of life that I can’t control what she does, only how I respond to her. So now I try to understand where she’s coming from and why, rather than just reacting, and if I can’t, I ask for an explanation.

    Try to recognize when you are stating opinions as fact, or trying to make your partner “wrong.” Communication goes a lot more smoothly when neither person feels judged or criticized.

    3. Blaming each other for our own feelings.

    I sometimes blamed my partner for my feelings, saying things like, “You’ve made me angry,” or “You’re so insensitive.” Thanks to her patient refusal to take these kinds of accusations on board, I came to see that these statements revealed more about me than her!

    With a new awareness of how these dynamics operate between us, I’m able to take responsibility for my own negative feelings, which gives me a much better ability to do something about them, if that’s needed or possible. This also allows me to nurture more mutual trust and intimacy with my partner.

    When you’re about to blame your partner for how you feel, step back and ask yourself, “How would I respond if I took responsibility for my feelings instead?” You can still acknowledge how their actions affected you, but you will be doing so from a place of owning your own experience and responses.

    —

    Reflecting honestly on this process has been painful and challenging. If you’re at all like me, you may avoid doing any of this work for that very reason. It’s completely natural; we all instinctively avoid pain. All I can say is that, in my experience, it’s more than worth it.

    By being clearer about what we are trying to communicate, and more conscious about how we share and listen to each other’s feelings, we can avoid the pitfalls of misunderstanding that could sabotage our relationships. And that will leave a lot more time and energy for what we really want to be doing: sharing love and being happy!

  • A Small Good Thing: A Documentary on Simple Sources of Happiness

    A Small Good Thing: A Documentary on Simple Sources of Happiness

    A small good thing

    We live in a world that encourages the pursuit of happiness, which it seems we’ve collectively defined as “more.” We chase more money, more recognition, more stuff, more connections (and often, more followers and “likes”). If it’s quantifiable, and sometimes even when it isn’t, there’s no such thing as enough.

    Given that you’re here, visiting a website that promotes simplicity and appreciation for the little things, it’s possible you haven’t fallen into this trap. Or perhaps, like me, you have, and that’s why you now recognize that less is often more.

    Given my own experience chasing things that inevitably led to emptiness and disappointment, I was intrigued to learn about Pamela Tanner Boll’s new documentary A Small Good Thing.

    A Small Good Thing follows six people who’ve “recast their lives so they can find a sense of meaning.” If you’re disillusioned by the American Dream and fascinated by people who’ve found their own unique path to happiness, I highly recommend you check it out.

    I’ve never shared a documentary here before, but as you may remember, I’ve spent the better part of this year working on my first short film (which I’m excited to share here soon!) And I’m also planning to work on my first documentary, on a similar topic, next year.

    Given the synchronicity, I was thrilled to speak to Pamela about the motivation behind A Small Good Thing and what she learned in the process of making it.

    The Interview

    How did you choose the cast for A Small Good Thing? What’s the common thread?

    We were looking for individuals who were living in this new century in a better way. We wanted to find people who had made positive changes in their lives through mindful practices, through a closer connection to the natural world, and through a stronger connection to the greater good.

    Stephen Cope from Kripalu’s Institute for Extraordinary Living in Lenox, Massachusetts introduced us to Tim Durrin, who was working at Kripalu at the time, and through mindful practices (yoga, meditation, cycling) had been able to deal with his struggles with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and addiction.

    I met Yoga and Breathing Instructor Mark Gerow at Canyon Ranch in Lenox and was very impressed with his story of how he used his yoga practice to overcome the personal struggles in his life and to learn how to share his story with others.

    We were introduced to Jen and Pete Salinetti from Woven Roots Farm and were fascinated with the fact that they were able to harvest twelve months out of the year in Western Massachusetts, as well as with the amount of food they were producing on a one and a half acre farm.

    Also, we learned about Sean Stanton who worked on both his family farm, North Plain Farm, as well as managed Blue Hill Farm for the Barber family. He was also giving back to his community as the Chair of the Selectman Board for the Town of Great Barrington.

    Finally, I heard about a woman in Pittsfield MA who was doing amazing community work with young adults who performed all over the state with the Youth Alive Step Team. I met Shirley Edgerton for coffee and found out that she was really guiding young people to a life of purpose.

    Why did you choose the Berkshires for the location of this film?

    The Berkshires has long been a place that attracted artists, visionaries, and change-seekers who value their creative expression and want to live closer to nature. It’s also one of those communities in the world that supports and encourages people who want to live in a different way. There seems to be less importance put on “keeping up with the Joneses” and more importance on “checking in with the Joneses.”

    While we focus on the Berkshires in the film, people who are practicing mindfulness, connecting to the natural world, and engaging in their communities can be found all around the world. Yoga studios, farmers markets, and community gardens and centers can be found all over New York and other urban settings.

    We also filmed in the Berkshires because it was closer to home for us. Our production company is located in Winchester, Massachusetts, right outside of Boston.

    How long did it take to make this film? And how did making this film influence the happiness in your life?

    We begin in 2011 researching the film for over a year focusing on the recent happiness studies and the science behind yoga and meditation. We also did a lot of research on how living in closer connection to the natural world also positively impacted our well-being.

    We began shooting in the Berkshires in 2012, and continued for over a year. The first edit, which took another year, was flat and disjointed. In December 2013, I made a decision to close down the production. I did not feel that the edit expressed my original vision.

    After four months, I found a new energy to complete the film in a new location with a new editor, T.C. Johnstone.

    In the making of this film, we all learned that living an authentic life is not easy. It’s hard to be vulnerable and to make mistakes. But this is the path to living a life that is meaningful and full of purpose. Like Shirley says in the film, “…the true success in life is you finding your purpose and your passion and you living it out.”

    How does watching these small stories about individuals transforming their lives help us to transform the world?

    Our culture is more invested in comfort than in truth. Our planet is suffering from our consumer-driven way of life. Although we have more connections through the Internet and social networking, we as a society have become more isolated and lonely. We have more material wealth, but we are not happy.

    These stories show individuals who are making small changes in their lives that have a big impact in the world. Jen and Pete Salinetti use only environmentally sustainable practices at Woven Roots Farm. Also, Sean Stanton feeds his livestock a natural diet; his cows are grass fed and his pigs and chickens are raised on pasture and eat all certified organic grain.

    Farms that use these types of regenerative agricultural practices can turn back the carbon clock, reducing atmospheric CO2 while also boosting soil productivity and increasing resilience to floods and drought. Also, the agronomists tell us now that you can produce more calories per acre on a small farm than a big one.

    Studies show that mindful practices such as yoga and meditation relieve our stress: blood pressure goes down, heart rates drop, negative emotions decrease, and positive ones increase. Tim Durrin and Mark Gerow have overcome the struggles in their lives by applying these mindful practices every day. And in doing so, have learned that by exposing their struggles to their community, they feel less isolated and more blessed.

    And finally, Shirley Edgerton is guiding her young adults to live a life of purpose. She is teaching them at a young age, “that if you leave yourself open that you move with the universe [and] that’s where you blessings coming in.” This is how we can live in a more engaged way, a way that helps us to develop empathy and compassion.

    Why did you make this film? What resources influenced your research?

    A few years back, everyone I talked to had the same complaints: People were running so hard to keep up with the pressures of life that they felt overwhelmed, isolated, exhausted, and unhappy. Even though our country had more material wealth, people were depressed.

    Given the additional worries about the growing income disparities, climate change, and the vanishing natural world, the question of what makes a good life became important to me. So, I did what I usually do—I read lots of books. These are just some of the books that informed the film:

    Earth and Deep Economy by Bill McKibben

    Born to Be Good: The Science of a Meaningful Life by Dacher Keltner

    The Empathic Civilization and The Third Industrial Revolution by Jeremy Rifkin

    The Wisdom of Yoga and Yoga and the Quest for the True Self by Stephen Cope

    Self-Compassion by Kristin Neff

    The How of Happiness by Sonja Lyubomirsky

    Being Happy by Tal Ben-Shahar

    Loving Kindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness by Sharon Salzburg

    Flow and Finding Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

    The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama

    The Wisdom of Tuscany by Ferenc Mate

    You can learn more about A Small Good Thing here.

  • How We Can Stop Judging Others and Ourselves

    How We Can Stop Judging Others and Ourselves

    Judging woman

    “There is no path to peace. Peace is the path.” ~Mahatma Gandhi

    We live in a world of ticker headlines, 24/7 news, and constantly updating Instagram and Facebook feeds. We are constantly making snap-decision judgment calls, categorizing what we see into “good,” “bad,” or “unimportant.”

    In a second, we can see an image and believe we have all we need to form a fully realized opinion.

    It’s in our biological wiring to judge everything we see—it’s how we have survived for generations upon generations. We are in a constant state of scanning our environment for threats and attempting to efficiently neutralize them when we do come across them.

    And yet, ironically, we seem to have gotten to a point in our evolution where our judgments are doing us more harm than good, keeping us more unsafe than safe, and keeping us more in fear than in love.

    When we get down to it, fear and love are the only two emotions we really have. They are our roots, the seeds of our souls, our most base and primal instincts.

    All others are just off-shoots and iterations of the same.

    We fear what we judge as bad; we love what we judge as good.

    When we are in a state of fear, our bodies and minds do whatever they need to keep us safe. That may mean avoiding it, destroying it, or simply making it as different from us in our minds as possible. This is where the roots of racism, sexism, homophobia, and all other fear-based rationalizations are planted and nurtured.

    I, like all other humans, have lived much of my life in this place of fear.

    Only I didn’t call it fear.

    I felt that I judged people fairly, that I saw in them things I would never be or do or feel in myself.

    Though I have done deep work within myself to live in a place of love, forgiveness, and unconditional acceptance, I, like all people, still struggle with it from time to time.

    It happened as recently as this morning.

    I took my daughters to the grocery store for our weekly shopping trip and plunked them in a shopping cart shaped like a car. My eighteen month old daughter immediately ripped my list in half causing me to have to hold the two parts together every time I needed to check it.

    I pushed the behemoth cart up and down the isles, cramming things in until I felt overwhelmed by both decision and physical fatigue.

    My daughters were generally well-behaved but still did their part to act like kids: fighting over who got to hold the cereal, then both refusing to hold the cereal and throwing it on the floor in an attempt to throw it in the cart, pushing each other for more elbow room, asking to buy flowers and cookies and ice pops and a stuffed animal and tacos and pistachios and Finding Dora shaped Pirate’s Booty.

    By the time I got to the register, I was ready for the trip to be done. It was still early in the morning, so only a few lines were open. I chose what appeared to be the shortest line and began unloading my stuff onto the belt.

    That’s when I noticed that although I had chosen the shortest line, I had also chosen the one with the slowest cashier.

    She and the woman in front of me were chatting and making small talk as if they were out on a coffee date, not in an increasingly crowded supermarket line with cranky kids and customers that were waiting to pay for their food and get on with their lives.

    I did my best to surrender to the moment and keep it together. I reminded myself that I was waiting to pay for a cart full of healthy, nutritious food for my family—a position many women would do anything to be in. I smiled at my daughters and thought about how lucky I am to have them.

    But still…

    The clerk was really getting to me.

    Finally, she started scanning my food and putting it into bags. And making small talk. And as she talked, she slowed down. Then she stopped and got out a roll of paper towels from under the register and started wiping down the belt where the frozen food had left a puddle of condensation.

    I couldn’t help it: I rolled my eyes. I didn’t respond to her chatter. I refused to make eye contact.

    Who the hell was this woman? She had a job to do and she was stubbornly refusing to do it in the efficient manner I know she had been trained to do it in.

    I judged her. Harshly. And then I judged myself even more harshly for judging her.

    As always, my judgments of her came from a place of fear:

    • That I was going to lose control of my kids who were getting bored and cranky.
    • That I might actually lose control of myself and say something I would later regret.
    • That I never have enough time.
    • That the situation could get worse and then it would feel even harder.

    And then my frustration with her turned into frustration with myself and fear about myself:

    • I’m not patient enough.
    • I’m not kind enough.
    • I’m too much of an introvert.
    • I don’t appreciate what I have.

    People who are in a state of fear can be vicious.

    So what is the answer?

    Love.

    Love means unconditional acceptance of the light and the dark that we all have as humans and understanding that one cannot exist without the other.

    Sure, it’s fair to say that the clerk should have been fully present and doing her job in a way that was efficient and respectful of the customers’ time. But I was making her responsible for my fear-based reaction.

    The clerk was chatty and slow, just like I’ve been many times. Therefore, I really couldn’t condemn her without automatically condemning the same qualities in myself. This was probably why I was judging myself even more harshly than her!

    In reality, there is nothing positive or negative that exists in someone else that doesn’t also exist in us because we are all human.

    Perhaps instead of giving the clerk dagger eyes, I needed to see the experience she was giving me with gratitude. Maybe she was there to remind me that when we allow others to hurt us, we hurt ourselves. This was clearly illustrated by the fact that I quickly turned my anger toward her into anger toward myself.

    Luckily because of my mindset work, I was able to move from seeing the clerk as an opponent and source of frustration to seeing her as a teacher for me and myself as a teacher for her, and also for my daughters who were a captive audience in the car cart.

    Teaching is done mainly by example, and what we teach others we are also re-learning ourselves. What we share is strengthened in us, and so I had the choice to allow peace and love to happen in a moment that felt very un-peaceful by being peace and love.

    Love is the remembering of who we all are at our core. Looking at a situation with love reminds us that our “flaws” are universal and therefore irrelevant.

    Peace in that moment meant recognizing that I was having a vulnerable, overwhelmed moment, which put me squarely in the category of being human just like everyone else.

    I took the lesson of having compassion for myself and for others that the clerk was teaching me and began to see things differently.

    I gave myself a lot of grace and told myself that a moment of being annoyed and an exasperated eye roll didn’t make me a bad or ungrateful person. I reminded myself that both the clerk and I can do things imperfectly still be worthy of love anyway.

    When you find yourself in a judgment/shame spiral, determine that you are willing to see things differently: with love.

    Do this, and you will be guided by the most powerful force there is.

  • How to Rock Your Scars (Because They Mean You’re Strong)

    How to Rock Your Scars (Because They Mean You’re Strong)

    Scarred heart

    “Never be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.” ~Unknown

    “It’s such an ugly scar, I really don’t want anyone to see it.” This is what I told my daughter about a scar on my leg from an accident I’d experienced a year earlier.

    I can remember the day so clearly when I slipped and fell, while skating, breaking my ankle and tearing a ligament. It was a painful experience with a long recovery. But I also felt embarrassed because I got injured during such a simple and fun activity.

    I often wondered why this happened to me. One minute I was out enjoying quality time with my daughter and after the next minute I couldn’t walk for twelve weeks. I wanted to be present for her. I wanted to be active. I wanted to be involved. I wanted to be a good mother. I wondered if maybe I was overcompensating for the time I was busy keeping up with my work.

    I became so entangled in my thoughts, wondering where I went wrong and why this was happening now.

    After all was healed, I had a long scar from two surgeries. While I was happy to be up and on the move again, I was self-conscious about the five-inch mark on my ankle and leg area, along with the indentations in my skin from where the medal plate and screws were underneath.

    I thought this scar was unattractive, and it was an awful reminder of my journey to healing. I knew with the warmer weather quickly approaching that I’d want to hide it.

    I had it all planned out: I’d wear super long dresses, skirts, and pants. No one would need to stare my scar or ask me what happened. I wouldn’t have to wonder if anyone was looking at it, because I’d already taken care of that with my clothing.

    One day my eleven-year-old daughter and I were discussing summer fashion and girl talk in general. I shared my well mapped out plan to hide my scar with my clothes. Before I could finish, she quickly replied, “Why don’t you want to wear your dresses, Mommy? Why are you hiding your scar?”

    I pondered for a moment, then offered a simple response that I just didn’t like the way it looked. What she said next caught me off guard and made me teary eyed.

    She said, with conviction, “Mommy, your scar shows that you made it! It shows that you are no longer in that same place as you were before, that you overcame it. You should be proud to show that scar, Mommy, because you bounced back! That’s your ‘I made it scar.’ ”

    I was so blown away by her response and her unknowing insight into resilience.

    As parents we share much of what we know with our children to help guide them through their everyday experiences. But there are those unscripted moments when our children’s perspectives provide us with insight into how to move forward.

    Here are the lessons of self-acceptance and resilience my daughter taught me that can help you:

    Don’t Hide Your Scars

    We’ve all been through challenging situations, setbacks, disappointments, or heartbreak, and these experiences can leave a painful residue based on how we allow ourselves to heal.

    Once you make it through the healing process, sharing the lessons with others will provide a sense of empowerment for you and to those you share it with. Your “scars” or challenging experiences have a unique story of resilience, and to tell it sends a continuous chain of healing to all you interact with.

    Keeping it hidden reinforces a stigma of non-acceptance of all parts of your journey in life. If you reject these experiences, you’ll feel compelled to bottle these emotions within. That’s what I did after I left a job that, at the time, caused a great amount of stress and wasn’t beneficial for me as a parent.

    At first, I felt embarrassed to share with others, because I always saw myself as competent, fitting in anywhere and always able to get the job done. I felt defeated because I was unable to meet the demands of my role. I felt bad that I somehow couldn’t “cut it” and didn’t measure up.

    It was hurtful since I’d given everything I had, even at times pushing aside my priorities as a parent, and it still didn’t work out. So, I wanted to keep this “failure” quiet and move right along.

    However, when I began sharing my experience of trying to balance the unrealistic expectations of a big corporate organization and being a present parent, I heard stories from other women who could relate.

    This was when I realized the power of sharing my story. In talking about it I felt less ashamed, and that’s when the healing began, along with gaining a sense of empowerment.

    Try to put a spin on those tough challenges so they don’t hinder your growth and progress. Share your feelings and story with a close friend, and if you’re comfortable enough, with others as well.

    If you’re uncomfortable speaking about it, then write it down in a journal. Getting your feelings out will help purge your mind of overwhelming thoughts and cleanse your heart of the pain.

    Your Challenges Can Propel You Forward 

    This challenging experience may have been rough, but it can also be the thing you need to get you moving outside of your comfort zone and into a new direction. Sometimes those unexpected setbacks build up the “muscles” that were once hidden within us due to fear or complacency. Now you’ve experienced your fears and you see that you’ve made it.

    For example, maybe one of your worst fears is to lose your job and not being financially secure. If you’ve been laid off or fired, while this is hurtful to your self-esteem and brings about uncertainty, it may be an opportunity in disguise.

    Perhaps this is your chance to go full throttle in starting the business you’ve always wanted, or maybe this is the push you need to get you to go back to school, or into the true field you desire to work in. It might even be a much-needed opportunity to take it easy and take better care of yourself.

    Take time to process the lessons you’ve learned from this situation. Use them to help you regroup, refocus, and move ahead. What you were once afraid of is now a thing of the past.

    Use your setback as a stepping stone to a new transformation in your life.

    Be Gentle and Less Critical of Yourself and Your Journey

    You may have gone through or are currently going through a tough time and you’re having thoughts about feeling “dumb,” feeling less than or not being able to cut it.  While these thoughts are normal, spending time dwelling on them will never help you feel better and learn the lessons.

    Stop beating yourself up. Offer yourself and your past forgiveness in order to set yourself free from the pain.

    Giving so much life and emphasis to what those things mean about you is taking away from living out this one life of yours. Recognize the lessons and be kind to yourself so you can begin the next chapter of your life.

    Surround Yourself with Resilient People 

    We spend so much time in our own heads pondering questions like “Why did this happened to me?” “What did I do wrong?” Indulging the “what if” questions will cause intense overwhelm and keep you stuck in your thoughts.

    Surround yourself with resilient people who will listen to you, offer you encouragement, and help you find that spark you need to move forward. My daughter was a calming peace to my anxiety around my scars. While she shared a dose of encouragement, she unknowingly provided me with enough space to think about what she said, which gave me the ability to identify my next step for moving ahead.

    A gentle spirit with words of wisdom was the catalyst for me to think differently about my situation.

    —

    Life is not meant to be lived hidden. The entire fabric of who you are is what makes your story unique and rich with wisdom. I once was afraid and ashamed to share those lessons of setbacks and hurt, fearing judgment and rejection. But I’ve found even more strength and humanness in sharing those stories, as they are part of who I am and it’s not necessary to hide that anymore.