Category: Blog

  • How to Instantly Calm Yourself in Stressful Situations

    How to Instantly Calm Yourself in Stressful Situations

    “Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” ~Viktor Frankl

    There’s a big lie we tell ourselves during stressful times.

    It keeps us feeling lost, afraid, and unloved, like we’re being picked up and carried away helplessly by a storm.

    Our heads can fill with scary images, words, and stories about the cause and who is to blame for our unwanted pain.

    Sound familiar? If it does, you’re not alone. You’re normal. This is how humans biologically respond to stress.

    So what’s the big lie?

    The big lie is that we have no control over our stress response. Actually, we do. A lot of control.

    I’ve struggled the hard way through my fair share of troubling times. I’ve experienced money and job issues, battled with health, and been pushed in challenging relationships.

    But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is I grew up a highly sensitive person, who would internally react to almost anything that could be interpreted as negative.

    Of the feelings above, I hopelessly sat at the “feel all of them” end of the scale.

    That was until a particularly trying relationship caused me so much stress and anxiety that I became sick of my unconscious reactions, and vowed to do everything possible to stop it (or make it easier).

    Through research and a lot of experimenting I created a practical way to calm myself down instantly anywhere, anytime, when a meditation cushion or reassuring book was out of reach.

    The technique was so simple and powerful that it pulled me through a harrowing experience in that relationship, and has held me together in plenty of experiences since.

    It’s easy to remember, has an instant effect on your mind body, and most importantly, is simple enough to be remembered and used when you’re going through the eye of your own stress storms.

    How to Calm Yourself In Two Minutes

    Take a moment right now to make yourself comfortable and try these four steps yourself:

    1. Freeze yourself.

    Remember the game you played as a child when you suddenly stopped mid-motion, like you were frozen in ice? Do that now. Halt your body parts, emotions, and thought processes. Think of yourself as a cartoon character that’s been hit with a stun gun. You can even make it a little dramatic if it helps.

    2. Focus on your index finger.

    (Skip to this if you find the first step difficult). For twenty to sixty seconds, concentrate solely on the back of your index finger. Let your mind and body be consumed by it.

    Bring it closer to you. Study the rivets, creases, and those tiny little fingerprint lines. If your situation is noisy, let the sounds around you merge into a single background buzz, and let it fade out of your attention.

    3. Take a conscious breath.

    Let go of your focus and check back in with your body. Take a deep, conscious breath in, then let it go through your mouth, slowly and calmly, creating a wave of relaxation that starts in your chest and floats out through your being to the surface of your skin.

    4. Look around consciously.

    As you re-integrate with your surroundings, scan the scene in front of you. Remain as indiscriminate as possible with what you focus on the way you would when waking up in the morning.

    Take conscious note of the thoughts that are trying to push back into your head and observe them with an attitude of curiosity.

    How do you feel?

    You might now feel a little more in touch with your senses, distanced from previous thoughts, and connected with the present moment.

    Most importantly, you’ll recognize that the root of your discomfort is your thoughts. Everything else, like emotions, and physical discomfort, and pain, start there.

    If you’re having difficulty slowing down the mind at the beginning, try this: If you meditate regularly, spend the last minute of your session focused on the same finger, in the same way. Doing this will associate (or anchor) the feelings of clarity, relaxation, and attachment with the action.

    And if you don’t meditate, it’s a great time to start! It will help with your ability to cope with stressful situations generally, and dramatically improve the effects of this technique.

    Why This Technique Works

    Stress is a mental or physical tension, and both manifest from your relationship to the procession of thoughts in your head.

    Mindfulness allows you to step out of the procession and watch it go past, without being carried down the fast-flowing river.

    When we get pulled down a heavy stream, our emotions and bodies react as if the danger or pain contained in the thought is real, immediate, and must be dealt with now. That’s why we feel discomfort even when someone reminds us of a stressful situation we were trying to forget.

    Reconnecting with the present reminds us that here is the only time there really is.

    Focusing on your hands is an ancient Ayurvedic practice that helps to ground the soul and provide stability in the physical body.

    Try It for Yourself

    The most important reason this technique works is it gives you something back—control.

    We may not be able to choose what happens to us in our lives, but as Viktor Frankl says, we can always choose our response.

    Give it a go next time you feel yourself panicking (and be sure to let us know how you go in the comments below).

  • Book Giveaway: Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges

    Book Giveaway: Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges

    Book heart

    UPDATE – The winners for this giveaway are:

    • Melissa Ballinger Dees
    • Julie C. Perry
    • Bobby Irion
    • Michael Jon Piper
    • Hannah

    Sometimes the world can feel like a lonely place. There are billions of people on the planet, and many of us encounter hundreds in the course of our daily lives. Yet it’s easy to feel disconnected from most, if not all of them.

    The many strangers we pass on a given day, who may avert their eyes to avoid awkwardness, can start to feel like part of the scenery—like cars parked in a lot or leaves floating in the wind.

    And, of course, we may feel the same to them, when we attempt to busy ourselves right when we cross paths—anything to avoid an intimate moment of locking eyes with someone we don’t know.

    We look at our feet, or our phones, or our friends. We shut down, cave in, tune them out. In that moment, they’re not people, with stories and feelings just like us. They’re strangers. Unknown. And perhaps a little scary.

    The luckiest of us have deep connections with people we do know. But even those relationships can feel distant at times, and maybe more often than not.

    We may feel judged, or misunderstood, or ignored. We may worry about what those people think of us, or wonder if they’ll be there when we need them.

    And worst of all, we may question if they’d still be there if they really knew us, deepest secrets and all. Proximity doesn’t always equal closeness, and closeness doesn’t guarantee trust.

    If it sounds like I am speaking from experience, that’s because I am. I have felt lonely, and insecure, and suspicious. I’ve feared letting my guard down, letting my feelings out, and letting people in.

    As a result, I spent years living on an island in my head, maintaining a physical presence in the world but remaining as much emotional distance as possible.

    The irony is that I thought I was keeping myself safe from pain, when really I was causing it.

    It hurts to feel separate. We are wired to seek connection and belonging—to feel like we are part of something larger than ourselves.

    They say it takes a village to raise a child, but I believe it also takes one to sustain an adult. We were not built to live in isolation, hidden behind apartment doors, phone screens, and dead eyes.

    We thrive when we feel like part of a tribe, when the people we share space with become part of “us,” not “them.”

    I’ve spent my whole life fantasizing about “us,” and years trying to learn what it takes to be part of that.

    I wish I could say I’ve discovered some great secret to forming deep, meaningful relationships and feeling less alone in the world, but that would be a lie.

    I haven’t discovered any one thing that turns strangers into friends, and friends into family. I have, however, identified countless tiny things, which, compounded over time, can make a massive difference.

    And that’s how Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges was born. As you may recall, I launched the book in October of last year.

    I wanted it to be a comprehensive list of small things we can do, every day, to create deep, meaningful connections with the people around us.

    I wanted to offer specific, actionable ways to show kindness, compassion, trust, and support; to be authentic, accepting, forgiving, and encouraging.

    They’re abstract ideas, and not always easy to put into practice, especially when you factor in that other people are flawed and scared, just like us.

    Though I still don’t feel as connected as I’d like to be—a natural consequence of moving every two years for the past sixteen—I no longer live alone on the Alcatraz in my head.

    I have healed relationships from my past, dug beneath the surface with people who would otherwise have remained acquaintances, and most importantly, strengthened my relationship with myself so that I finally believe I am worthy of being loved and fully seen.

    And I feel proud that I’ve created a book that, I’ve been told, has helped other people do the same.

    If you grabbed a copy last year, you may be at the halfway point now—meaning you’ve completed six months of challenges pertaining to kindness, compassion, authenticity, forgiveness, attention, and honesty.

    I’d love to know how this experience has been for you—if you feel more connected, if you’ve strengthened your relationships, or if there have been any other pleasant, unexpected side effects of taking these action steps.

    And if you don’t have a copy, I’d like to offer you a chance to win one today. I’m giving away five autographed books, and all you need to do is leave a comment answering one of the following questions:

    -What is one thing you believe most people want to receive from the people they love?

    -What is one thing you believe most people want to hear from the people they love?

    -What do you think it means to love someone?

    Your comment doesn’t need to be any specific length; in fact, it can be one word. However much you choose to write, know that you are giving all Tiny Buddha readers a gift through your time and effort.

    Whatever you choose to write could inspire someone, guide them toward a life-changing epiphany, or help them form deeper, more meaningful relationships with the people around them.

    Your comment is, in itself, a tiny act of love. And I will be the first to say that I am grateful for it.

    You can enter the giveaway until Wednesday, July 13th, and you can learn more about Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges, or grab a copy, here.

  • 10 Surprising Reasons To Stop Trying To Please Everyone

    10 Surprising Reasons To Stop Trying To Please Everyone

    Girl in darkness

    Lean too much on other people’s approval and it becomes a bed of thorns.” ~Tehyi Hsieh

    Let’s be honest with each other.

    You’re a people-pleaser

    So am I.

    And so is Oprah, the President of The United States, and the guy next door.

    We’re all people-pleasers to some extent. And that’s okay. Wanting to be approved of—and loved—is as natural as wanting food and shelter.

    It’s when you try to please everyone that it becomes a problem. In fact, more than a problem, a disease. Harriet B. Braiker called it “the disease to please.”

    And it’s making you ill.

    Why?

    Because you want everyone to like you. To love you.

    You dread disapproval. Pleasing everyone seems to be the answer, the safe way to inoculate yourself against conflict and confrontation in relationships, whether family, friends, or work.

    So you fail to speak up, fail to say what’s on your mind, fail to allow yourself to be the real you.

    Instead you become the go-to person:

    • The one who will always take on more work and stay late.
    • The one who will always say yes.

    The one who never says no.

    The Disease To Please

    I know exactly how that feels.

    From what I wore to where I lived, I couldn’t live with anyone’s disapproval, so I spent my days stressing and second-guessing what to do or say.

    But every time I sought someone else’s approval, a little piece of the real me died inside.

    And it made me ill. Which was ironic, as my cure to conflict and rejection of always saying yes never worked anyway, for reasons I’ll explain later.

    Oh, help!

    How was I ever going to make it through life with that much stress and anxiety every day?

    But the alternative seemed impossible. If I gave up saying yes to everyone and every request, if I put my needs before theirs, if I stood up for myself and learned to say no, they’d reject me, surely? There’d be rows, repercussions. They’d disown me.

    The very idea was enough to bring on a panic attack.

    But by now I was literally sick with the constant anxiety and stress over what to say and do, over who to be. I had to do something. So I set out to understand why the disease to please had taken over who I really was, why it consumed me.

    I soon noticed that there were those who seemed immune to this disease. Indeed, many of the people I was constantly trying to please said what they thought, did what they wanted and yet were still popular, loved, respected even.

    And not despite standing up for themselves, but seemingly because of it.

    I started taking notes from them, learning ways to stand up for myself, to give a straightforward answer, to say no. It wasn’t easy at first, and I still need to check myself to stop falling back into my old people-pleasing ways to this day.

    But the amazing thing is, there have been very few rows or repercussions. And far from disowning me, apart from a few people who were better out of my life, I am more liked and respected than I ever was before.

    This week, for instance, I said no to my boss…without passing out in fear! I politely refused to do something I felt strongly was an unfair request. Standing my ground that morning removed a situation that had been hideously stressful for three years.

    And far from falling into a fire pit of angry responses and reprisals, my boss simply respected me the more for speaking out.

    Are you trying to please everyone? Are you afflicted with the disease to please?

    Read on to find out why it will never bring you the approval and love you seek and what to do instead to reclaim the real you and cure yourself.

    Why Trying to Please Everyone Doesn’t Work

    1. You attract people less.

    I had always looked up to anyone who had the strength to go out and be themselves. But all too quickly that admiration would turn to adulation. I found myself never speaking up, always going along with whatever they said and did, the eager puppy on their heels.

    And then, when I looked dispassionately at how they really saw me, there was one overriding word that hit me—weak. Strong people seek strong people to be around, so it was not surprising they were polite but always chose their true friends elsewhere.

    2. You love yourself less.

    Because those very people you wanted to admire, respect, and love you now reject you, you tell yourself that you cannot be a lovable person. In desperation you increase your people-pleasing behavior and it becomes a depressing spiral.

    The gap from the way you act to the way you really want to act widens with every people-pleasing act. This leaves you feeling disappointed and ashamed of who you have become.

    3. You become more manipulative.

    I would often feel resentful when a friend or colleague was asking for yet one more favor. They seemed to be manipulating me, taking advantage. Boy, that was hurtful.

    But you know, once I’d looked logically at the way they treated me, I realized it was more down to the way I’d treated them. I’d set the rules for their behavior toward me. I’d been the one to say, “Hey, that’s absolutely okay, go ahead.”

    In reality, I’d actually been the one doing the manipulating. Gulp!

    4. You’re seen as less trustworthy.

    Always agreeing or saying the “right thing” seems to be well-intentioned, but however you dress it up, hiding what you think isn’t telling the truth. And as humans we hear alarm bells when we sense that someone is being false.

    It might seem like just a little white lie to flatter someone’s ego, but would you trust someone who only ever told you what you wanted to hear? Someone who hid their true feelings?

    5. You end up with less confidence.

    People find you untrustworthy because you only tell them what they want to hear, so they are hesitant to confide in you. So you never know what they are really thinking either, which leads you to feel less confident in dealing with them.

    6. You end up with fewer friends.

    Trying to please everyone is rooted in the fear of rejection. The irony is, because you end up seeming less attractive and less trustworthy, the very people you are trying to get approval from are often the people who reject you. Maybe not to your face, but in their hearts.

    Without intimacy, relationships wither and die. And no one wants to be intimate or vulnerable with someone who hides their true feelings.

    8. You end up with the worst of both worlds.

    And what happens if you are trying to please two people who do not like each other? If you ingratiate yourself with one person and offer friendship, how do you now please that other person without un-pleasing the first? How do you decide who to please?

    It ends with up both of them disliking you as they believe you must be betraying them behind their backs. Who wants a two-faced friend?

    9. You become more resentful.

    I have found this out for myself: you end up resenting the very people you’re trying to please. You feel they are taking advantage of you. However, when you are being honest, you also beat yourself up for trying to get them to like you by putting their needs before your own.

    You imagine they only like you because you say yes to their every whim. And in truth, you have no real way of knowing whether this is true or not, so you become more and more resentful of them.

    9. You hate the things you used to love.

    Again, this is something I found from personal experience. For instance you may love cooking, maybe making cup cakes. So you offer to cook some as a way of getting love and appreciation.

    But soon you are either cooking them all the time for one person or, once again, you become the go-to person and you end up cooking them for everyone. What used to be an enjoyable pastime now becomes a chore you hate.

    And you’re not even sure any more if people actually like your cup cakes or if they are just seen as something free and easy they don’t need to put any effort into. Which is how you think they see your relationship with them.

    10. You fail to please the one person that matters.

    But the most important reason to stop trying to please everyone has nothing to do with everyone and everything to do with just one person—you.

    Trying to please everyone is tied into the fear of rejection and the fear of failure. But the biggest failure in life is failing to be yourself. And the biggest rejection in life is rejecting yourself.

    By trying to please everyone, you make both these fears come true.

    Cure Yourself Of The Disease To Please

    Trying to please everyone is a disease.

    Learning to be the real you, to stand up for yourself, to say no, is the only cure.

    Make a promise to yourself to start today.

    Gently and with kindness, tell just one person no. .

    Not everyone will like or love the real you, and that’s okay. You can cope; you are stronger than you think.

    Because when you stop seeking the approval of others, you’ll find that you never needed it in the first place.

    The world doesn’t need another insincere people-pleaser, the world needs the real you.

    So step up and let the real you shine.

    The world’s approval is waiting for you.

  • How to Promote Yourself Authentically to Gain New Opportunities

    How to Promote Yourself Authentically to Gain New Opportunities

    Self Promotion

    “If you really put a small value upon yourself, rest assured that the world will not raise your price.” ~Unknown

    I have always been a smart, dedicated, hard working person. I was raised to believe that those were characteristics required for success. So imagine my surprise to reach the working world and find unexceptional colleagues getting promoted above me.

    There’s one memory that particularly stands out.

    When I was twenty-five, I was on a team that consisted of amazingly smart, ambitious, hardworking people, plus one mediocre guy, Tom. His mediocrity stood out amongst a high-achieving team, but Tom thought he was a rock star.

    Infuriatingly, all the right people noticed Tom. And they didn’t notice me.

    In hindsight, the biggest difference between Tom and I was our mindset around self-promotion. We were both ambitious, but he was willing to push for it. Meanwhile, I was waiting patiently for my turn.

    I couldn’t get past the idea that self-promotion was sleazy, manipulative, or desperate, so I refused to do it. I didn’t go in to a meeting with sweaty palms ready to ask for the promotion that I wanted. I just did nothing.

    I waited and hoped that someone would notice how hardworking and deserving I was. But it never happened. I lost out on opportunities that would’ve helped me make a bigger difference and feel more fulfilled in my work because I refused to raise my hand.

    Now, I’ve built my career on my skill for authentic self-promotion and have found tactics to promote myself in ways that feel in perfect alignment with who I am. These are the things I’ve learned along the way. I hope these work for you, whether you work for yourself or have a traditional job.

    1. Find a role model for authentic self-promotion.

    You can probably picture the kind of person that you don’t want to be when you’re promoting yourself. But do you know whom you do want to model your self-promotional behaviors after?

    Look out for examples of people that promote themselves with honesty, integrity, and personality.

    One of my role models once told me a story about going to a networking dinner and being pestered by someone who wanted her to quit her job and come join his company.

    When her boss asked how the networking event was, she said: “It went well. I got offered three jobs. Actually, I got offered the same job three times. See how in-demand I am?”

    She told me that it felt like a light-hearted way for her to tell him that she’s highly sought after. It both matched her cheeky personality and how they usually interacted with each other every day. If she tried to do it any other way, it would have seemed awkward and insincere.

    Your mindset around self-promotion will dramatically change once you start looking for positive examples of people who practice authentic self-promotion. You’ll be surprised how many role models you can find.

    2. Remind yourself how self-promotion can help you make a difference.

    Self-promotion has a bad reputation for being egotistical. But it’s only egotistical if you’re solely focused on what it can do for you. Try focusing on how it allows you to help more people.

    How many more people will you be able to help if you promote yourself and more people discover your work?

    How will landing this new job or client help you make a bigger contribution to the project?

    Getting the job or landing the client gives you the opportunity to change their lives or business for the better.

    Thinking about how your work makes a difference takes the focus off you so that you feel less egotistical and reminds you that your work (no matter how menial you may think it is) helps others.

    3. Realize that no one else is paying as much attention as you are.

    In the past, I believed that if I truly deserved that new opportunity, then the people in charge would have already offered it to me. But that’s rarely true.

    They have a lot on their to-do list and it’s easy for them to forget everything that you do. That’s why you need to regularly remind them, whether it’s a boss or a client.

    All it takes is getting into the habit of a quick knock on the door to say, “I just wrapped up that project and wanted to let you know about the great feedback we’ve had so far.” It can be casual, honest, and low pressure. Don’t be afraid to let them see how valuable you are.

    4. Ask yourself how satisfied you are with your work right now.

    Feeling the need to raise your hand for new opportunities is a sign that there’s something missing from your current work. By raising your hand and advocating for yourself, you have an opportunity to find greater fulfilment in your career with minimal effort.

    Ask yourself: what kind of projects would bring me more job satisfaction? Then, proactively ask for those projects.

    Employers love it when their employees are engaged and fulfilled by their work, so there’s a good chance they’ll want to hear what you have to say. It’s helpful to you and it’s helpful to them.

    5. Approach it like an equal.

    I noticed that one thing that I disliked about self-promotion was feeling like I was asking for more than I was offering. It dramatically lowered my confidence and triggered the quivering, insecure voice that’s a dead giveaway that I’m nervous and unsure.

    Now, before I even start on the path toward authentic self-promotion, I get clear on what I want and what I will bring to the table that is of equal or greater value than what I’m asking for.

    It removes the feeling of powerlessness and helps give me confidence that I’m making a difference with my contribution. Even better, it means that I can easily explain how I’ll make a positive impact for my boss or client.

    6. Notice what your fear of self-promotion is masking.

    Your fear of self-promotion masks something much bigger. It could be fear of success, failure, judgment, or not being good enough. You’re not afraid of self-promotion itself; you’re actually afraid that if you promote yourself and it doesn’t go well, it’ll prove that your real fear is true.

    For me, I’m usually afraid that I’m not good enough to get that big project or land that new client. If I raise my hand, promote myself and get rejected, it can feel like evidence that proves my fear—I truly wasn’t good enough.

    What is the underlying fear for you? Where does that come from? When you dig deep into what the fear truly is, you can start to question its validity and build your personal growth muscles.

  • The Benefits of Minimalism: 7 Reasons to Declutter Your Life

    The Benefits of Minimalism: 7 Reasons to Declutter Your Life

    Minimalism

    “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” ~ William Morris

    Have you ever noticed that every time you move you need a bigger truck than the last time you moved?

    People love to collect things, and we have a tendency to keep collecting things in order to fill the available space in our homes (and sometimes beyond).

    I’m a firm believer in the idea that material possessions do not equate to happiness, so I recently started to explore the idea of living a minimalist lifestyle, to see if a less cluttered home would result in a less cluttered mind.

    I concentrated on decluttering each element of my life by reducing the amount of material possessions I owned and removing those that were unnecessary. This allowed me to focus on those items I valued most.

    I followed the seven steps below to declutter my possessions:

    Step 1: Categorized my possessions in order to sort through them one at a time (clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry, cosmetics, electronics, books, etc.)

    Step 2: Gathered together everything I own from one category, so I could see the true extent of my possessions.

    Step 3: Immediately discarded anything that jumped out at me that I no longer required.

    Step 4: Analyzed all remaining items to identify whether I loved them. After careful consideration, I discarded anything I didn’t love or need.

    Step 5: This was a step where I pushed myself to be more ruthless. I questioned whether I really truly loved the things in my “keep pile” and removed a few more.

    Step 6: Tidied everything I had decided to keep neatly away.

    Step 7: Gave everything I wasn’t keeping to friends and charity shops and sent some things for recycling.

    The process of removing all material possessions I no longer required from my life taught me a number of lessons:

    1. Mindful purchasing

    We purchase many items on a whim, with little consideration of need or desire. What a waste of money to buy something you may not even particularly like!

    A thorough decluttering session teaches you to be more mindful of a purchase and analyze its importance before spending your hard-earned cash.

    When decluttering my clothes, I came across several items that still had the labels attached. I found it really difficult to part with these, as it felt so wasteful given that I had never worn them. This was a great lesson in ensuring that from now on I will only buy items I am sure I will definitely wear.

    2. Money saved from unnecessary and frivolous purchases

    Restricting purchases to only necessary items has the added benefit of saving cash. My biggest overspend in the past has been on clothes.

    Since I have significantly reduced my clothes shopping, I have saved a considerable amount of money. This money has helped to fund my true passion of travel and exploring the world.

    3. Time saved by being able to find things more easily

    Reducing your possessions allows you to find items more quickly, saving precious time.

    No longer will you have to hunt through a stash of necklaces but easily choose one from the small collection you have retained. No fishing around among a mountain of handbags or rooting through hanger after hanger of clothes. The choice is quicker and easier.

    4. Space saved from owning less

    The fewer possessions you own, the less storage space you need.

    Since doing some serious decluttering, I now need half the space I previously did. I am currently looking to move to a smaller apartment, as I now have far too much room for one person and could happily live somewhere much smaller.

    5. Happier outlook

    Surrounding yourself with items you love and displaying only the items most valuable to you will make you feel happier. You won’t have to search through lots of items that you don’t like. Favorite items won’t get lost at the back of the cupboard or the bottom of the drawer.

    Gone are the days of saving your favorite things for a special occasion. Every day is a special occasion now that I am only using the things I love and my life is happier as a result.

    6. Quicker and easier to clean and tidy

    The fewer possessions you have, the neater your house will be and the easier it will be to keep clean.

    Marie Kondo, the decluttering expert, advocates the philosophy that each possession has a place and you should know exactly where to find everything. This is only possible if you reduce the amount of your material items. Now my living space is cleaner and tidier, my mind is less cluttered.

    7. More freedom

    As you begin to detach from material possessions and place more importance on experiences rather than things, you will sense a feeling of lightness and freedom, which can become addictive.

    I love this new sense of freedom I feel from no longer being surrounded by piles of unnecessary items I never use and being less attached to possessions. This allows me to focus instead on people and experiences.

    Now it’s your turn. Choose one category to start with and focus on the seven steps. See how it makes you feel. Try to dispose of unwanted possessions responsibly.

  • Why We Don’t Need to Apologize So Often & How to Do It Well When We Do

    Why We Don’t Need to Apologize So Often & How to Do It Well When We Do

    “The ability to apologize sincerely and express regret for the unskillful things we say or do is an art. A true apology can relieve a great deal of suffering in the other person.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    My life has been full of apologies. I’ve been on both the receiving and giving end of the good, the bad, and the ugly apology.

    Just recently a dear friend who I hadn’t connected with in a long time reached out and asked if we could meet for coffee. I sort of backhandedly blew her off and told her I would try to meet her later that same day. I had already made plans to run with another friend, but I chose not to share this.

    After my run, I invited my running buddy to coffee and ran into my other friend. It was awkward. We hung out and all had coffee together, but there was an uncomfortable vibe between us the entire time.

    Later that day I texted my friend, apologized, and told her I should’ve been honest about my reason for rejecting her invitation. Yes, you read that correctly—I texted my apology! Owning our mistakes is hard, and I’m working on getting better in this area.

    On the other hand, I’m learning there’s a difference between apologizing for a mistake and apologizing for being human.

    Recently there has been a social media meme outlining the power of shifting our word choice from “I’m sorry” to “thank you.” For example, instead of saying “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” say “Thank you for loving me unconditionally.” This type of apology suggests that our word choice is powerful and that we can choose words that empower rather than degrade.

    Apologies are hard.

    By definition an apology is an acknowledgement of an offense, failure, or disappointment. Anytime we are faced with having to apologize we either must acknowledge our own offense or step into holding space for another person’s disappointment. In our culture, we aren’t taught to do either of those very well.

    On the other hand, apologies can be incredibly powerful healing tool connecting us to our own human experience, as well as other people.

    An apology gives us the opportunity to practice humility and step into vulnerability and out of shame. So, the question becomes: How can we master the art of the apology in an effort to heal ourselves, our relationships, and the global community? Below I offer simple, actionable ways we can embrace this art.

    The “It’s Not Me, It’s You” Apology

    No one wants to feel like they’ve been a schmuck, and as a result, we often try to turn the fault or blame back on to someone else so that we don’t feel the shame often associated with owning our mistake.

    Mistakes and subsequent apologies are hallowed ground for so much learning, grace, and humility. When we shy away from these places, we stay stuck in our own pain and shame.

    Recently I had an exchange with a friend after we had awkward conversation between us. My friend seemed upset and distant, but I didn’t know what had happened. After asking her what was up, she replied that yes, she was upset. She went on to explain what had happened to upset her and apologized for her bad behavior.

    After hearing this I felt genuinely saddened about what she was feeling and began to understand why she had taken such a caustic tone with me.

    Unfortunately, as quickly as she apologized she tossed it back onto me and said that it was my fault she had acted that way, and if it weren’t for me she wouldn’t have been so mean.

    She used the “I’m sorry, but you…” apology style. Rather than create a space of mutual understanding and an opportunity for healing, she continued with the same caustic tone and pushed the responsibility for the situation back on to me. Naturally, I felt awful that, in her view, I was 100% responsible for her angst.

    This posturing left very little room for any reconciliation without getting into a back and forth exchange of grievances. Not liking the options of taking full responsibility or continuing to engage in a ping-pong of blame, I thanked her for letting me know how she felt and moved on.

    We are not required to engage in or accept a blame-based apology. We can simply, and in love, move on. On the other hand, if you find yourself using the “But, you… apology,” realize that you could be damaging a relationship by staying stuck in your own ego’s need to be blameless.

    When an apology is followed by a “but” and an explanation it negates the apology and doesn’t feel genuine or as if the individual is invested in seeing the opportunity to resolve, Rather, it seems they’re trying to shun any responsibility they have in the situation.

    Eliminate the Explanation

    The “explanation apology” is similar to the “it’s you, not me apology,” but rather than shifting the blame to another person, we offer excuses or try to explain all the reasons our apology is good enough. It often comes from a place of feeling ashamed of our humanness.

    For example, I think most of us can relate to saying things we don’t mean when we’ve been drinking. Many years ago, when my husband and I were just dating, we got into a booze-infused argument, and I called him a nasty name I typically reserve for my ex-husband. Even in my tipsy state I could see the hurt in his eyes. I felt so ashamed, but at the moment couldn’t bring myself to apologize.

    The next day I apologized and let him know that’s not how I felt about him. It would have been easy to explain why I had said something hurtful by blaming the booze or a variety of other things that would take the spotlight off my own careless words. I decided instead to own my bad behavior, and it was humbling, but owning it planted the seed for a healthy relationship to grow.

    Mistakes are part of the human condition. Noticing when we are defaulting to feelings of shame for our humanness by either excusing or avoiding saying sorry can help us grow into more compassionate people. It can become a beautiful opportunity to reclaim our right to be human and make slipups.

    If you do feel compelled to add something to your apology, perhaps a statement that affirms the other person would be a kinder choice.

    When It’s Not Necessary to Say Sorry

    Earlier I mentioned the popular social media meme going around suggesting we trade our “sorry’s” for “thank you’s.” This enables us to shift from guilt to gratitude in situations where we’ve done nothing wrong.

    I have been a yoga teacher for many years, and it’s industry practice to reach out to another teacher and ask them to sub your class. One time a fellow teacher called to ask if I could sub for her. Unfortunately, I wasn’t available, so I apologized and began listing off all the reasons I couldn’t help. I felt guilty and thought I needed to defend my answer.

    In retrospect, I realize I could have simply said, “Thank you for thinking of me. I’m flattered! Unfortunately, I won’t be able to teach for you this time, but hopefully I’ll be able to next time!”

    Noticing what you’re apologizing for and when is a beautiful way to bring mindfulness to our everyday conversations. It also helps us keep apologies for the things we do that genuinely require regret.

    At the same time, it gives us permission to give ourselves a break. It can be easy to get in the habit of beating yourself up and apologizing for everything. Intentionally setting the tone of a situation to be one of grace and kindness can elevate the consciousness of the individuals and allow both parties a breath of relief in acknowledging the imperfect perfection of any moment.

    I was having this discussion with the female inmates I teach yoga to once a week, and they recognized how empowering it felt not to own things that result in them immediately feeling dis-empowered, the victim, or bad person of a situation. They could see how insignificant apologies were keeping them oppressed.

    Keep It Simple – I’m Sorry. Period.

    When we find ourselves in the position where an apology is the best choice, there is no replacement for the two simple words: I’m sorry.

    Stopping at these two simple words prevents us from coming from a place of pride and ego, and it gives the other person permission to simply feel whatever it is they are feeling without us trying to soothe it or fix it.

    Instead of being shamed by apologies or letting your ego get in the way of an opportunity for growth, I encourage you to see these as sacred opportunities to embrace the human condition and help heal yourself and others.

  • The Power of Doing Nothing When You’re Frustrated or Anxious

    The Power of Doing Nothing When You’re Frustrated or Anxious

    Stressed man meditating

    “This ‘doing nothing’ is not a cold, passive resignation, but is a luminous, sacred activity, infused with presence and a wild sort of compassion. It is a radical act of kindness and love.” ~Matt Licata

    I am storming home after work.

    The important men in my life are driving me bonkers—they’ve been self-important, disrespectful, condescending jerks.

    My dad doesn’t see the value in the work I do, and my partner blew off our date to take an important phone call. My younger brother leapt off of the phone with me, which he’s been doing every time I’ve called in the last year.

    I am taking furious, short breaths, and hardly noticing each step.

    My mind races with things I could say to show them just how in the wrong they are. I rocket between being spiteful and feeling sorry for myself.

    A woman my age walks toward me, carrying two bags and nursing a baby. I move aside to let her by and accidently make eye contact with her little girl.

    She gazes at me unblinkingly, no expression on her small, round face. She doesn’t react to my momentary presence in her world; she just looks at me.

    Our eyes meet for only a moment, and then they are both gone. That look has stopped me in my tracks and drained me of all my struggle. I’m standing there on the sidewalk, feeling totally empty of the fury that possessed me a few seconds earlier.

    That emptiness makes me lightheaded, and I stand for a moment, swaying in the dusky light. I’m suddenly aware of my breathing, of the tightness in my abdomen and hands. For the first time, I notice what a whipped-up tower of smoke and rage I’ve become.

    I make eye contact with myself, as if I’m now the wide-eyed babe, lying on my mother’s chest.

    I’m filled with compassion for myself. I become aware that the anger I was feeling is also anger at myself for not hearing and responding to what I want—for putting my needs last, for being judgmental and self-righteous.

    This awareness washes over me in a wave of feelings, more so than thoughts. I experience anger, sadness, and finally the comfort of being heard. Someone is listening to me—I am listening to me.

    . . . . .

    I regularly encourage my girlfriends to take more time for themselves, to move more slowly through choices and transitions, to make space in their heads to really hear themselves.

    I don’t want to wait for a wide-eyed magic babe to spook us back into our own experience. I want us to be intentional about it.

    Through meditation, I can sometimes create space to hear myself. But many of my friends are fast-paced, creative women who have a hard time sitting still. Meditating is simple, but not easy, and especially for these active types, “doing nothing” is something that has to be eased into.

    Walking has been an incredible space-creator for me, as has writing.

    At the beginning of both of these pursuits, I am filled with chitter-chatter—the daily bushwhack through the swamp of self-judgment, fear, and worry.

    By being intentionally aware of my surroundings when walking, and my words when writing, the fog of my heavy thoughts begins to lift. Eventually I am purely in the experience—noticing the birds and the flowers, and the feeling in the bottoms of my feet, or simply connecting word to word, sentence to sentence.

    To maintain a connection to the physical world around me and the spiritual world within me, I practice both writing and walking for an hour every day. Sometimes, it’s an uphill battle and I end up feeling totally defeated. But most days, at least a shimmer of my true self shows up during my practice, and I feel blissfully at peace.

    . . . .

    The lesson I learned that evening, when I saw the baby and her mother, was that how I’m feeling just is.

    Most of my frustration and anxiety comes from trying to fix the way I’m feeling, to somehow “solve” it. As soon as I settled into the experience of being angry, the anger itself just sort of melted away, and my true desires became apparent.

    A friend and I were recently speaking about “looking straight at things” rather than seeing them out of the corner of your eye and avoiding them. We were discussing negative body-talk, anxiety about work, and the emotional discomfort that often leads to overeating.

    She told me, “If I could just look straight at the part of me that wants a bowl of cereal, I would see that I’m actually nervous about an upcoming presentation.” The urge to eat more when she’s already full is disguising the discomfort of feeling over her head at work.

    My intense anger at the important men in my life was disguising the true discomfort that stemmed from over-working myself, not prioritizing my own self-care, and putting others’ opinions of my life before my own.

    A curious experience with a tiny stranger was enough to shock me out of my thoughts, bring me back into my body, and allow me to really hear myself.

    That moment reminded me how to be present and to give myself the time and space to understand my inner needs.

    I extend this same reminder to you: In whatever way is easiest for you, start being present to yourself by doing nothing. I challenge you to lie on the couch, sit on the bench, or meditate; allow space for your true hopes and fears to bubble up into your conscious mind.

    As Matt Licata says, this is a “radical act of kindness and love,” and we each benefit from showing ourselves that loving kindness.

  • 3 Relationship Myths (and Why We Need to Stop Believing Them)

    3 Relationship Myths (and Why We Need to Stop Believing Them)

    “Love isn’t always perfect. It isn’t a fairytale or a storybook. And it doesn’t always come easy. Love is overcoming obstacles, facing challenges, fighting to be together, holding on and never letting go.” ~Unknown

    When I started dating, I idealized love. I had many false notions about relationships, which I formed from my friends, watching movies, and reading romance novels. Many of the beliefs I had about how relationships should work caused me pain and disappointment because reality turned out to be different from what I expected.

    Dating became a journey of resetting my expectations and letting go of false beliefs. In order for me to find love, I had to let go of the myths I had around relationships.

    Myth #1: Opposites attract and make for more lasting long-term relationships.

    I found myself drawn to men who were very different from me during my early stages of dating. They were the stereotypical bad boys who rebelled against authority, the ones with a wild independent streak who were emotionally unstable.

    These were the type of men I was attracted to. They made my life exciting and helped me expand my boundaries. I thought opposites would create a balanced relationship, making for an ideal union.

    Luckily for me, none of them worked out. Looking back, it would have made for a bumpy, unstable relationship.

    We’re fascinated by people who are unlike us because they represent parts of ourselves that we’d like to let out and explore. We tell our friends we can’t help who we are attracted to, but often we are attracted to people who are wrong for us.

    While it’s true that we can complement each other with some differences—if, for example, one person is more laid back and the other is more Type A—couples who are more similar have longer lasting relationships than those who are complete opposites.

    Dating someone similar means we get the support and validation for our core life values. There will be fewer disagreements on the most important issues and opinions that shape our lives.

    Core life values may be spiritual, religious, social, family, and health-related. Taking a closer look at what you prioritize in your life and where you invest your time will tell you your values.

    This also means that having similarities lead to more positive feelings because of the reciprocity rule in relationships: we like others who are like us.

    It’s exciting to date someone who is the opposite of you at the beginning. But as the relationship progresses two people with different life values will start to separate and head down different paths.

    Opposites attract like strong magnets for the short term, but if you’re looking for the long term, it’s similar core life values that will keep you together.

    Myth #2: You should be honest about your deal breakers upfront to save time.

    The other day I went to lunch with one of my friends, who is a serial dater with profiles on three different dating sites. He dates several women at a time and sometimes goes on three dates a day.

    When he tells me how the first dates went, it usually starts with the women initiating several rounds of questions, which then turns the date into a mate interview.

    Are you close to your family?

    Have you been married before?

    How many kids do you want?

    I know I have done the mate interview on a first date before, so I understand why these women were questioning him early on.

    When I was tired of just dating, and looking to get married, a friend told me to be open and upfront about it, because “you don’t want to waste your time with him, so you want to make sure you are on the same page. And if your honesty scares him then he is not the right person for you.”

    This piece of advice could not have been more wrong.

    Yes, it’s important to be honest and be on the same page for a sustainable long-term relationship, but letting them know all of your standards and requirements on the first couple of dates is just too much information.

    No one wants to waste time in relationships, but interviewing someone shows that you’re more interested in getting what you want from them than getting to know them.

    When I was trying to figure out if they would make a good parent or partner, I was screening them and testing them. I went from having fun and being lighthearted on the date to turning into an interrogator. I was limiting myself to a small pool of candidates who were ready to answer these kinds of questions, thereby limiting my chances at finding love.

    By being upfront about your deal breakers, you may not even find yourself in a relationship in the first place, because you quickly screened out perfectly good people who had the capacity to be a devoted partner but didn’t show it on the first date.

    Myth #3: Having conflict in a relationship means you’re headed for a breakup.

    I am terrified of conflicts or any type of disagreements, which is probably why one of my strengths is the ability to always find agreement in groups, no matter how much they differ in opinions.

    I formerly believed that fighting meant you’re not compatible with each other and it won’t work out. This was why I thought that love meant never having to fight and I was terrified of conflicts.

    In my earlier relationships I dealt with fights by ignoring them, pretending they didn’t happen, and stonewalling, where I just didn’t communicate or just walked away. I thought the problem would just disappear and we could return to a normal state of things, as if it never happened.

    I remember when I suppressed my feelings, I experienced random outbursts of crying because I was so frustrated with pent up emotions inside that I would eventually crumble at the slightest stress.

    After reading a lot of self-help books and talking to my friends, I figured out that avoidance was not healthy for me, nor the relationship. It dawned on me that because everyone is unique, our differences will lead to disagreements and conflicts.

    When you are choosing to be with someone in a relationship you are choosing a unique set of problems that cannot be solved. It’s important to learn how to deal with it, because conflicts can bring you both closer afterward.

    So I learned that having conflict is actually healthy for a relationship. It shows that you are being honest about issues that are important to you rather than headed for a breakup.

    Changing my view on these three beliefs altered my success in dating. It helped me to grow to have more realistic views of love and be more aware of how much my mindset impacts how I define what love is. I hope shattering these relationship myths helps you as well.

  • Do You Constantly Think and Worry About Your Relationships?

    Do You Constantly Think and Worry About Your Relationships?

    “When you say ‘yes’ to others, make sure you’re not saying ‘no’ to yourself.” ~Paulo Coelho

    Sometimes it’s easy to define ourselves by our roles and relationships.

    We can look at ourselves as a daughter, or someone’s employee, or so in so’s husband. These things mean a lot to us, and we often subconsciously use a variety of behaviors and mental constructs to protect these roles and relationships.

    It can take form in innocuous ways, like buying clothes you don’t really want or feigning interests in order to fit in. (Go sports team!) But it also affects more serious things, like how we view ourselves, what we think we’re capable of, and what goals we pursue.

    A common theme in movies is the mid-lifer who suddenly realizes they’ve made all of their decisions in life to please other people. It’s reflected in the zeitgeist so often for a reason—because it’s a common occurrence, and an easy trap to fall into.

    My realization that I was doing this started taking shape with several ah-ha moments over the last several years, but it became palpable during an entrepreneurial workshop almost a year ago.

    We all were assigned a personality test to take at home before returning the next morning. Mine said something like: You think with your heart and are excellent at building thriving relationships.

    I thought that was a lovely-sounding result, but the next morning I got a bit of a jolt from the woman putting on this portion of the workshop.

    “Ah, you’re a blue!  You constantly think about yourself in relation to everyone else.”

    “I do not,” I replied, embarrassed.

    “But you do. What are you thinking about when you fall asleep at night?  Your relationships. You wonder if everyone’s okay. You wonder how you affect others. You wonder what they think of you.”

    I must have been nodding, because she said, “See? That’s thinking about yourself in relation to everyone else. Their approval means a lot to you, and that’s how it manifests in your mind.”

    That irritated me in a huge way.

    I ignored her for the rest of the day, fuming about how someone could say something so mean—and because of a silly little test that didn’t say anything about wanting approval! I was still thinking about it when I got home, all riled up with indignance.

    Then it hit me. I’m a fan of Jungian psychology. I’m not an expert or anything, but I like the way that dude thinks.

    He espouses the philosophy that our irritations and overreactions point to key truths about ourselves; when something or somebody really gets to us, it could be because it’s pointing to a truth about ourselves that we don’t want to see.

    I had noted people-pleasing tendencies before, and I had made great strides! I no longer fake-laughed at things that I didn’t find funny.

    I no longer thought of others, or their judgments, when making personal style decisions. And I no longer cared about being as thin as others, after struggling with eating disorders for years.

    These things were a big deal to me, and it took focused effort to make these changes. I thought I was done! Then some random person goes pointing out the other-focused thought constructs in my brain like she can see them? What the what, man? Pssssch.

    I tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend that it wasn’t there. But once something like that is pointed out, life tends to keep pointing it out to you.

    I eventually leaned in and decided to do something about it. I’m a lover of meditation and mindfulness in all forms, so invented a mindfulness game of it.

    I started watching my mind for other-oriented thoughts, and then I imagined shooting them down with the gun from the 80’s Nintendo game, Duck Hunt. Pew! Pew! I shoot them thoughts right down:

    Imagining an argument with a family member: Pew! Pew!

    Comparing myself to someone else: Pew! Pew!

    Wondering how I’d explain myself for doing something: Pew! Pew!

    Overanalyzing lack of reactions to my Facebook post: Pew! Pew!

    (A few things that don’t count: non-judgmental relationship reflection, hoping people are happy, and forgiving others and myself.)

    It might sound silly, and maybe for you it would be, but for me, it’s worked wonders.

    It’s helped me find my center. I feel like my whole life I’ve been off, getting tossed about in the storm of others’ wishes, real or imagined; flung around in subtle manipulations, others’ or mine; and thrashed into the ground by judgments, spoken or merely assumed.

    The benefits of cultivating a centered perspective like this are immense. For one thing, it leaves us free to cultivate inner-direction—to focus on the things that really matter to us, the things that we love to spend time on, the things that make us sparkle.  

    I’ve discovered that we can adopt a centered-perspective as homebase. It had been there the whole time, this calm and peaceful mind, this quiet in the eye of the storm.

    I had frequently visited it, usually while meditating, or by way of painting, or even via chore lists done in a zen-like fashion; but we can learn to operate from this place all the time.

    My mind still swerves into the storm, but less and less. It’s noticeable, and feels odd, far from being a filter for life or a perspective to see it from, like it was before.

    And once we spot mental constructs in this way, we stop identifying with them, and they can’t sweep us up like they used to. They lose power as new neural pathways are created, bringing with them new ways of thinking and of approaching life.

    Try to spot your other-focused mental constructs going forward. Recognize when you’re dwelling on arguments, comparing yourself to others, or looking for their approval, and shift your focus back to yourself. Find your center.

    Know that you’re more than how you affect the people around you. You’re more than what other people think of you. If you can focus a little less on who you are in relation to everyone else, like me, you might find yourself less stressed and far more fulfilled.

  • What to Do When You’re Having Trouble Making New Friends

    What to Do When You’re Having Trouble Making New Friends

    “The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.” ~Albert Einstein

    I’m sitting on the couch by myself watching Dexter reruns on Netflix. But I can hardly focus on the show. I’m freaking out because I still haven’t made any friends, even though I moved here over a month ago.

    I keep thinking to myself: “Will all my Saturdays look like this?” “Will I actually be able to make new friends and build that social circle I was so excited to have?”

    Let me rewind just a bit.

    It’s a hot and sunny summer day in Southern California.

    After hours of Tetris-like packing, my Toyota Corolla is packed to the brim with everything I consider important. My guitar amp has clothes stuffed in the back of it. Even my snowboard is upside down, forming to the shape of the roof.

    I should be exhausted from packing, but I’m not. I’m beaming. Smiling from ear to ear, I can’t wait to start a new chapter in my life.

    With a new promotion in hand, I am given the task of opening a new office in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I have never even been to New Mexico before, but I am ecstatic to meet new people and create new life experiences. So I hop in my car and make the fifteen-hour drive to begin my new adventure.

    I’ve arrived in New Mexico, and I am high on life in the high desert of Santa Fe.

    Life is great. I’m loving the delicious, authentic New Mexican food and the warm monsoons with crazy lightning. I’m spending my time getting to know the wonderful city of Santa Fe.

    More than a month goes by and, just as monsoon season is ending, I’m all settled in and enjoying my job. However, the excitement of making new friends and living the dream is starting to disappear. Actually, it’s starting to turn into fear.

    I’ve never felt so lonely in my life.

    Day after day, anxiety slowly grows deep inside my body. When will I start to make new friends? Will I ever even make any friends here?

    The fear of loneliness is eating me alive. Especially because I didn’t think that this would be a problem at all. But it’s making it hard for me to focus on anything but my inability to make friends.

    I know that if I want to meet new people and make friends that it is up to me. I need to take action and be proactive. The only problem is that I don’t really know how.

    But I try anyway.

    I muster up the motivation to go to a public pub crawl on a Saturday night and tell myself that I am going to turn things around and move toward my social goals. When I finally realize at the end of the night that I only spoke to one person the entire time, it only deepens the pain and stress.

    As bad as it seemed and felt, some good things were taking root even though I didn’t know it at the time. I had been on a self-help kick for quite some time and was constantly reading and doing what I could to improve my life.

    By some stroke of luck and beautiful timing, I got my hands on the book Yes Man by Danny Wallace. In it, recently single Danny was falling into isolation and loneliness until he decided to say yes to everything, and in the book he recounts the events that unfolded.

    In short, he met tons of new people, did a bunch of crazy things, and had one hell of an adventure.

    I read the entire book in one day—quite a feat for me. I may not have known it at the time, but this was a pivotal moment in my life. It fundamentally changed my beliefs and the way I look at life.

    I was missing opportunities left and right.

    My problem wasn’t an unwillingness to do new things; my problem was how picky I was being about the things I chose to do. I would turn down going to music in the Santa Fe Plaza because, “eh, that music doesn’t seem to interest me.” I would turn down an invite to hang out with someone because, “he didn’t seem that cool.”

    But then, after reading Yes Man and deciding that I need to be way more open to new experiences and new people, I decided to be much less picky.

    I hung out with a forty-year-old Texan I met through email and went to a strange and interesting event called Zozobra. I went to a college football game in Albuquerque (definitely not my wheelhouse) and to the Santa Fe Wine and Chile Festival. I also played darts with some people in the back of a cigar club.

    On a Monday evening around 8:00 PM, rather than calling it a night and turning down an offer to go to a BBQ at a friend of a friend’s house, I went. But it wasn’t easy. I still had all those thoughts running through my head: “it’s late,” “you’re tired,” “you have work tomorrow,” “just go next time,” yada yada yada.

    This time, though, I decided to say yes. Even with the knowledge that I had to find my way around the ridiculous streets of Santa Fe, which don’t seem to make any sense whatsoever.

    When I arrive, the friend that invited me meets me out front and shows me in. He introduces me to the hostess who was throwing the BBQ. Fortunately, I’m welcomed with open arms.

    I’m offered dinner, but go straight to dessert (5:00PM is much closer to my dinner time). I sit down at the table and start to talk with a group of six people. I get to know them and they get to know me.

    They seemed cool, although I didn’t think they were anything special. I got a couple numbers at the end of the night and went home.

    The seeds are sown.

    Over the next month, I slowly started to hang out with these new people. One of them invited me to go bowling with his friends. Another invited me to get drinks with some people.

    The momentum kept building and eventually I met a bunch of new people and was doing new things regularly. Before I knew it, I had a core group of five really good friends, and was talking to and hanging out with many others. Things were finally starting to turn around.

    Even though I didn’t think they were anything special right when I first met them, they ended up being some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. Truly great friends—the type that bring soup to your house during their lunch break when you’re sick.

    Had I continued to judge people before getting to know them, I would never have made the friends I did. Coming from Southern California, I had a much different style and culture than the people I met. I could have easily just asked, “are these really people I want to become friends with?”

    Or, after meeting everyone at the BBQ, I could have shrugged them off and not hung out with them the following times.

    Well, deciding to say yes was the best decision of my life. It’s been almost four years since I left Santa Fe and moved back to So Cal, and I’m still good friends with those people. I’ll even see many of them at my wedding in September.

    This whole process taught me so much. Particularly, that it’s the person on the inside that is much more important than what you see on the outside. The person that you get to know over time, not in the first few minutes you meet them.

    And I’m not saying that just to be sweet and nice. People that I would have typically judged as “not my type” ended up being some of the coolest people I have ever met. Those are things you don’t realize the first time you meet someone.

    What Saying Yes Looks Like

    When people are inviting you to do things with them, you want to be reactively saying yes. Otherwise, you will need to be proactively saying yes by finding your own opportunities to meet people.

    Proactively say yes: Be proactive and find new things to do, while doing your best to meet new people when you are doing them. This can be joining a book club, an adult-league soccer team, or a weekly board game meet up. It can be volunteering or seeing a band at a local bar.

    It can also mean finding people online and emailing them, or going to the disc-golf course and pairing up with others. The goal is to find new experiences where you can meet new people, and then say yes to yourself by going!

    Reactively say yes: When people invite you to do different things with them, say yes. Although you might not be sure if you really like the person yet, or you don’t think the event or activity is something you’d have a lot of fun doing, do it anyway. And do it with the intent of getting to know the people you go with and meeting new people while you’re there.

    Being open to new experiences and new people changed my life dramatically for the better. If you are having trouble making new friends, wherever you are, you might want to consider saying yes more often.

  • How to Prevent Fear and Insecurity from Ruining Your Relationship

    How to Prevent Fear and Insecurity from Ruining Your Relationship

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

    Buried deep within the broken heart of every great loss is a nugget of wisdom. I experienced the greatest grief of my life just a few months ago, and with it came an opportunity to uncover ugly truths about myself I’d been hiding from.

    In facing my pain, I have discovered that underneath the conscious, big-hearted, beautiful person that I am lives a small girl who is terrified of being misunderstood and abandoned by those she loves most.

    The surface signs alerting me to these fears looked something like this:

    My boyfriend and I are lying in bed reading one night. His mind is lit up in fiction while my soul is on fire with a spiritual book. We have often shared these evenings with one another, smiling and supportive.

    This night I want more. I want him to be as excited about this chakra healing book as I am. I want him to crawl into my body and feel everything I’m feeling and see everything the way I’m seeing it.

    I think he can feel me wanting more, and it freaks him out. He energetically hides in the bushes, further away than I’ve ever felt him go, and I panic.

    The warning signs that go off in my body read: IF HE DOESN’T GET THIS HE IS GOING TO LEAVE YOU. DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOU ARE GOING TO END UP ALONE.

    I don’t actually hear those words, I just feel a need to push my feelings onto him and basically tell him he’s wrong for not feeling the way I do. He looks at me with big, helpless eyes and responds:

    “I think it’s okay that we’re different.”

    I stare blankly back at him while an inner struggle ensues. I can feel my ego fighting. It wants to win. It wants him to see things my way. It wants to be right. It wants him to be just like me.

    But I know better.

    I move from my head to my heart, and I know it’s okay that we are different. What is important is that we love each other, respect each other, and support each other. So I melt into his arms with a smile, an apology, and a “You’re right.”

    But I don’t let him be right. That night I do, but every incident after that I don’t. And he never says it again. He never reminds me that it’s okay that we’re different.

    So the other times, later on, when he doesn’t see things the same way as me, the warning signals go off, and no one reminds me that it’s okay. So I panic, and I spin the fear into all kinds of stories that justify me bullying him into being like me. All because I’m afraid he is going to leave me.

    And he did leave me.

    There are many ways I could tell the Leaving Me story, but the truth is that it’s as complicated as human beings are. One part of it, the part I take responsibility for and the part I’m focusing on here, is that I fought his perspectives that were different from my own, leading him to feel like he couldn’t be himself with me.

    I did this because I was afraid to lose him. I was afraid that if we were different in some big ways maybe we wouldn’t make it. I felt safe when we were agreeable and felt unsafe when his thoughts differed from mine.

    But I was safe. I am always safe. A part of me knows this, but the part of me that comes to life when the fear arises is the part of me that needs a reminder. I didn’t know I needed to be reminded at the time. I didn’t even know I was doing it at the time.

    But now I know. I just needed those simple words, “It’s okay.”

    It’s okay that we’re different.

    He is someone who doesn’t know how to fight for himself. It’s not something I understood about him at the time, but I see it now.

    I am strong in my conviction. I am forthright. I speak my feelings decisively and with ease. He sweats and stutters, but mostly he shuts down.

    I suspect he shuts down because he is afraid. He is afraid of losing himself, but really he is afraid that I won’t love him for who he truly is. He doesn’t trust that he can speak up, that he can challenge me, that he can tell me it’s okay and that I’ll believe him.

    The tragedy is that I don’t know it. Neither of us knows it, really. We’re blind to our shadows, only seeing our own reflections after we’re over.

    I don’t know he is shutting down because he’s scared, and I don’t know I am trying to make him see things my way because I’m afraid. It’s all this delicate dance that happens backstage, until one day he tells me he doesn’t feel like he can be himself with me, and everything comes crumbling down.

    You might be thinking that we were too different, and maybe the truth is that I should be with someone who can share my excitement about chakras. I don’t know.

    I do know I loved him more deeply than I’ve ever loved.

    I know that our relationship was the healthiest, most beautiful relationship I’ve ever experienced.

    I know that I messed up by not letting him be him completely, and I know that he messed up by not sharing his true feelings with me.

    That is a lesson, yes. But there is a deeper lesson, and it’s a lesson about fear.

    I acted controlling because his differences triggered my fear of abandonment, a nerve that runs all the way through my heart and back into my childhood. The irony isn’t wasted on me that my reaction to my fear inevitably created the very thing I was attempting to avoid. And that is the lesson.

    When we act from fear we begin our journey to the guillotine.

    Fear hides behind many guises, ruining plenty of love lives.

    We’re afraid we’re unworthy of love, so we push our partner away when things get too intimate. We’re afraid to be abandoned, so we try to control the relationship or smother our partner. We’re afraid we won’t be accepted as we are, so we don’t show our true selves. 

    We act from fear when we’re too busy to pay attention, when we’re too stressed to slow down, when we make assumptions instead of asking questions. The very thing we are afraid of often becomes our reality when we live from our fears. It’s an act of self-sabotage.

    Relationships are a beautiful opportunity to see ourselves more clearly, but we each have to be looking. You have to be willing to see you, and your partner must be willing to see them. And this all needs to move very slowly, very delicately, and very lovingly. It’s the way we make it through.

    Fear has a million different faces, but your soul always knows the way. When you feel your body tense, when your voice rises, when you begin to shut down, when you begin to explode, when you run away, when you shake with anxiety, your body is telling you.

    Slow down in those moments. Breathe. Let your breath open you up into the vulnerable space of love, and let it cocoon you until you can step out from that place.

    Tell your partner all about it. Tell them about your fears, your discovery of your fears, and how they can help you through it. But don’t put it all on them. This is your work, and this is a practice, one that you have to keep coming back to over and over again.

    You might need some gentle nudges along the way. It’s okay to be different. But if you keep showing up, and if you continue to be willing to see the truth about yourself you will break through the boundary of fear and into the heart of love.

  • 4 Things You Need to Know When Pursuing An Ambitious Dream

    4 Things You Need to Know When Pursuing An Ambitious Dream

    Dreamer

    “So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable.” ~Christopher Reeve

    Have you ever decided to pursue something that excited you, that seemed really hard to do, and then had your will tested and almost crushed? I have, many times, most recently this year.

    As you may recall, I shared a blog post in January about the newly formed Tiny Buddha Productions, a film company I started with my fiancé, fellow screenwriter Ehren Prudhel.

    If you haven’t read that post yet, you may want to read that now. Go ahead—it’s here. I’ll wait.

    Welcome back! A lot has happened in the six months since we decided to make a short film about loneliness and connection.

    We’ve faced delays, and drama, and disappointment. We’ve questioned ourselves, our idea, and our potential. And we even considered scrapping the whole thing when it all seemed far harder, and success far less likely, than we once imagined it would be.

    But we’ve pushed forward, in spite of the fears and the discomfort. We’ve waded through the guck of insecurity and uncertainty. And here we are, about to start filming our first short film tomorrow.

    As I sit here with a goofy perma-grin on my face, I’d like to share a little of what I’ve learned over the past six months.

    If you’re pursuing a dream, and feeling overwhelmed, uncertain, self-doubting, and scared, perhaps some of my lessons will help.

    1. There’s no shame in being green.

    I knew going into this there was a ton I didn’t know. Although I’d studied acting and writing in college, I didn’t study screenwriting, and I had no experience producing a film or working on a set.

    In addition to what I didn’t know, there was a lot I didn’t know I didn’t know—stuff about permits, and insurance, and securing locations. Every part of this has been a learning process for me, and that can feel incredibly vulnerable.

    It’s easy to feel insecure and embarrassed when you’re working with experienced people and you feel a little ignorant.

    But when I took my ego out of the equation and stopped worrying about what other people might think of me, I realized how fun it is to be at the beginning of a journey.

    It reminds me of when I was in college, and I felt excited about everything—being on campus in Boston, meeting new people, learning from them, getting to share my work, and imagining possibilities for the future.

    Would I feel more confident if I were an expert? Sure. But there’s nothing like the enthusiasm you feel when you’re just starting out. Some day I will be an expert, and I can only hope I’ll maintain this electric passion I feel right now.

    If you too are at the beginning, remember: This feeling won’t last forever, so soak up the best and don’t worry about the worst. No one loses respect for someone just because they’re new. If anything, they highly esteem people who are embarking on an exciting but challenging new journey—especially if they’re not just out of college.

    More importantly, your experience is worth far more than their perception, so enjoy every part of this new path. This is what life’s all about—trying things that excite you and feeling giddy, nervous, and passionately alive. Let yourself bask in it.

    2. Setbacks are part of the process.

    As I mentioned, it’s been almost six months since we decided to do this short film. We originally planned to shoot in in the spring, after speaking to lots of people and hiring a director, who was going to bring his own crew onboard and edit.

    With the most important hire in place, I ran a T-shirt campaign to raise money to fund the film. And then the setbacks began.

    The director—who, I should add, is a wonderful person, who we’d be fortunate to work with—said there were too many locations. So we re-wrote the script.

    Then he told us the budget was still too small, so we increased it, to much more than we originally expected we’d spend.

    Then, after much back and forth, with all our eggs in his basket, he had to back out due to personal reasons.

    As the months went on, I began to feel like the girl who cried film. I’d already publicly announced the project on the blog. I’d run a fundraiser. And there we were, seemingly back at square one.

    For a while I got myself worked up and discouraged. I had no idea how to move things forward with our first project, and I also knew it would be just a small step on a much larger path. But then Ehren and I regrouped and decided that the setbacks weren’t failures; they were part of the journey—to be expected.

    We didn’t need to feel bad about them. We had to view them as par for the course—simply part of the process of doing something new and difficult.

    So often we get down on ourselves when things don’t go as planned. But it’s nearly impossible to make a smart plan when you’re learning as you go because you have no idea what each step will entail. The only thing you can reasonably expect when you’re doing something new is the unexpected.

    The good news is, the unexpected isn’t always bad. It’s usually in putting out mini fires that we learn and grow the most. Every step of a new journey is a classroom—and remember, people pay good money for an education.

    So don’t let the setbacks get you down. See them as signs you’re moving up, because they are, in fact, a part of the process.

    3. It helps to hold yourself accountable.

    I wrote that blog post introducing Tiny Buddha Productions for a reason: I knew that this would be hard. But once it was out there in writing, and because we also told our friends and family, it felt nearly impossible not to follow through.

    I could lie to myself and say I didn’t really want this that bad, but I’d already made it abundantly clear, very publicly, that I did.

    Reading that post has kept me motivated when I’ve felt like giving up. It’s reminded me that this means something to me, and it’s worth pushing through my discomfort to make it happen.

    Tell people what you aspire to do, and not just casually, in passing, like it’s not that important to you. You want this. You dream about this. If you’re like me, you lie awake thinking about it, and it pops into your head first thing in the morning and when you wake in the middle of the night.

    You care—a lot. And it feels vulnerable to admit that, especially since everyone will know if things don’t work out as you hoped they would. Don’t let that deter you.

    Not only does sharing your intentions keep you on track, it also inspires others to do something about the faint murmur they hear in bed at night and when they open their eyes.

    Everyone has something that blows their hair back. Remind them what it looks and feels like to go for it. As the saying goes, “Enthusiasm is contagious. You can start an epidemic.”

    4. An experience can be worth so much more than it costs.

    We raised quite a bit for this project, because filmmaking is incredibly expensive. (In fact, I was shocked to learn how much it costs to make five minutes of film.)

    When I shared with a loved one how much we raised, she questioned if perhaps we should pocket the cash or spend it on something else. “Why spend that money on something that might go nowhere when you could just keep it?” she asked.

    Well, I’d positioned the T-shirt campaign as a fundraiser, so that’s one thing. But more importantly, I knew this experience would be far more valuable than what it would cost.

    Ehren and I each have our own reasons for wanting to do this, and wanting to do it together. His reasons are his to tell. For me, this is more than a project; it’s the beginning of an exciting new life.

    It’s a way to connect with who I was before healing consumed me; an opportunity to create something that will hopefully make an impact; and a chance to do something collaborative instead of spending so much time working on my own, from my computer.

    That’s why I’m doing this film, and I hope many more after it: it’s something I need to do for myself, and want to do with Ehren. If that’s not worth the cost, what is?

    I realize I’m incredibly fortunate to have a means to raise money, and that not everyone has that same advantage. But we all have the ability to invest in ourselves—whether that means a portion of our savings or a portion of our time.

    We all have the potential to put some of what we have toward what we want to create. I know, it can be scary to do it. You can think of a million and one reasons not to use your limited resources.

    There are no guarantees. It might not work out as you hoped it would. People might say, “I told you so.”

    Yes, those things are true. But things could actually turn out better than you’d hoped. And if they don’t, this could be the first step on a different journey you don’t yet know you want to take.

    You don’t need a guarantee to know that taking a risk—stretching yourself and coming alive—is worth it, no matter where it leads.

    Having a dream is a lot like being that little man on the moon, in the picture on top. You know you can fall, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re lost in the music and the view. I’m lost in mine right now. What’s yours?

  • How Dealing with Our Emotions Can Help us Heal Chronic Pain

    How Dealing with Our Emotions Can Help us Heal Chronic Pain

    “The part can never be well unless the whole is well.” ~Plato

    Our bodies are clever. They constantly send us messages that something isn’t right. It’s our job to tune in, listen, and act on these messages.

    That headache, tight shoulders, and backache are all trying to tell us something. But sometimes the physical symptoms we experience are actually tied up in a deeper emotional pain that needs to be dealt with first.

    How do I know this? It was a message I needed to learn, one that I now teach to others.

    Six years ago my life fell apart. Within an eighteen-month period my marriage broke up, I lost my house in a devastating earthquake, and I had to walk away from my physiotherapy practice that I had poured my soul into for four years.

    At the same time I was also experiencing chronic shoulder pain. I was suffering from regular headaches, sciatica, and insomnia. I sought help from a number of different health practitioners. At times I would get temporary relief, but it never lasted.

    As a physiotherapist I knew I was doing everything right to heal my physical pain, so I could not understand why I wasn’t healing.

    Not only was my physical health a mess during this time, but I was also an emotional wreck!

    I felt like a failure. I was ravaged with guilt. I was scared of what the future held. And my self-esteem was at an all time low. I had stopped eating and sleeping. My weight had plummeted and I looked terrible.

    It wasn’t until I stumbled across Louise Hay’s book, Heal Your Body: The Mental Causes for Physical Illness and the Metaphysical Way to Overcome Them, that I began to gain a better understanding of the relationship between our emotional and physical health.

    This one book was the catalyst for change and healing. I realized that if I wanted to heal myself from chronic pain, I was going to have to dig deep to get to the core of all the challenges in my life.

    It was the start of a journey that wasn’t easy and it wasn’t pretty. A lot of the time I wanted to bury my head in the sand. I have always been one to brush emotions to the side. “I’m fine” was my tagline.

    But as I did the work, three key themes became clear.

    First, I had no sense of self-worth. I didn’t see myself as important as other people. I would give everything I had to everyone else and nothing to myself. If I did, I would feel guilty.

    I also have a Type A personality, I’m a high achiever, and I’m a perfectionist. I would constantly push myself to the limit, and the pressure I put on myself was immense.

    Lastly, I realized that I constantly compared myself to those I perceived to be living the perfect life, and I always came up short.

    I recognized that the pain I was experiencing was my body’s way of telling me I needed to slow down, take pressure of myself, and start taking care of myself.

    I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to change my ingrained habits and beliefs, but I also knew that if I didn’t my body would start screaming louder until I ended up seriously ill.

    I started by making small changes. I began to gather knowledge from others. I took what worked for me and discarded the rest. I experimented and added in what made me feel well and healthy.

    Sleep was the first thing I made a priority. I had never realized how important sleep was. It’s the time when our bodies repair and rejuvenate. One good night’s sleep doesn’t help us heal; consistently sleeping well does.

    Self-care was the next thing I needed to address. I had previously thought self-care meant hour-long bubble baths, a day at the spa, or a week’s vacation in the sun sipping champagne. But I came to realize it didn’t mean any of those things.

    I realized that the small things I did throughout my day were just as important—like taking five minutes in the morning to meditate before starting my day, making sure I had prepared a nourishing lunch, spending ten minutes cuddling my dogs after work, and reading a chapter of my book before I went to sleep.

    Small things, consistently done over a long period of time, made for big change.

    I also realized that my body had been sending me the message that my life had been out of balance for years. But I had lost the ability to tune in, listen, and connect with what it was saying.

    I started practicing a simple technique that consisted of meditative breathing, scanning my body for discomfort, and then asking what it was trying to tell me.

    Whenever I would feel discomfort in my body, I would ask myself, “If this pain was an emotion, what would it be?” If I answered “sadness,” I would then ask myself, “What is going on in my life right now to make me feel sad?”

    I would then use practices, such as journaling, to help me work through, and release, whatever was causing me to feel sad, lonely, or fearful. With time, my emotional well-being improved, and so too did my physical symptoms.

    So what are the physical signs that your emotional health may need attention? Here are just three examples that you may be able to relate to:

    1. Tight, tired, and painful shoulders.

    When I meet people with this problem, they often have a similar story. They believe that they need to be, and do, everything for everyone. They are literally “carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.”

    2. A stiff neck.

    People with stiff necks have trouble turning their head to one side. They’re often dealing with someone close to them making a choice that they don’t agree with. This decision has hurt them and they are finding it hard to “turn the other cheek.”

    3. Back pain.

    While disc ruptures are not uncommon, most people present with muscle spasms. Again, there is often a deep-rooted emotion playing out behind the scenes. In this scenario, it often pertains to money and finances. Their finances are restricting them from doing the things they want to do (as is their back spasm!)

    Our minds and body are so closely connected. But in today’s world, where we are so overstimulated, we have become completely disconnected with ourselves.

    Instead of tuning in to our body to find the answers, we tune into Google.

    Big life stuff (as I like to call it) happens. There’s no escaping it. Even everyday life can cause us to feel stressed and overwhelmed.

    If we don’t learn to deal with our emotions in a healthy way, they become boxed up within our body, until they are expressed in physical pain or illness.

    If you are someone who experiences regular physical pain, and you are aware that your emotional well-being may be one of the reasons for this, then I encourage you to start healing by journaling on the following questions:

    Does your life feel stressful at the moment, and what is causing you to feel this way?

    What is one thing you can let go of, even just for now?

    Do you feel overwhelmed, and what do you keep saying yes to that you could begin saying no to?

    Are you taking on the emotional loads of others in your life? So often we want to help or fix those close to us, but it’s important to remember that they are on their own journey.

    Are there any stories from your past that you are holding on to that need releasing?

    Are “you” last on your list of priorities? If so, how can you make a little more time for yourself?

    Learning to tune in and listen to your body’s messages is the first step toward preventing long-term physical damage. I encourage you to start doing this now, before it ‘s too late.

  • When Mindfulness Hurts: Feeling Is the Key to Healing

    When Mindfulness Hurts: Feeling Is the Key to Healing

    “You start watching your breath and all your problems are solved. It is not like that at all. You are working with the heart of your experiences, learning to turn towards them, and that is difficult and can be uncomfortable.” ~Ed Halliwell

    Can mindfulness be bad for you?

    I had been expecting it: Once you become a regular at it, mindfulness permeates all aspects of your life.

    I only sit in meditation for twenty minutes daily (and a full hour on Sundays), but I carry its effects with me the rest of the time, elevated levels of awareness and all.

    This is not to say that I constantly float on a blissful cloud. In fact, this sudden increase in mindfulness, even for someone used to deep introspection and resolutely committed to lucidity, comes at a certain cost. What I hadn’t expected was the actual weight of mindfulness.

    Three months into the daily practice of mindful meditation, I had to admit that it was not solely eliciting the deep serenity I had hoped for. In fact, I realized that in some ways, I actually felt less happy than before.

    I couldn’t precisely put my finger on it. All I knew was that things seemed heavier, more raw. How could that be? Wasn’t mindfulness supposed to help me transcend the vicissitudes of life? What was I doing wrong? Was I the only one in that odd situation?

    I decided to do some research. It didn’t take long before I discovered evidence that mindfulness can indeed have “side effects.”

    A quick online search showed me that I’m actually in very good company. Mindfulness, and the practice of meditation, has reportedly entailed significant “downsides” for a number of enthusiasts.

    We come to mindfulness in the hope that it will constitute the path to peacefulness, often unaware that this path is paved with cracked and bumpy stones. Only after stepping onto that road do you realize how uncomfortable the process can be.

    Just like therapy, meditating is difficult, sometimes painful.

    The first and most obvious reason is that sitting still, quieting the mind, and focusing on the breath presents a real challenge. Many beginners and non-beginners complain of an overwhelming restlessness or, on the contrary, of an irresistible tendency to fall asleep (I belong to the latter category).

    The second reason is that mindfulness has a way of annihilating our blissful ignorance. It offers an unexpected and unparalleled insight into our areas of vulnerability, the sides of us that we are not always prepared to welcome nonjudgmentally.

    To get the most of it, one must recognize that the practice of mindfulness is dirty, hard work.

    According to Willoughby Britton, a Professor of Psychiatry and Human Behavior at Brown University Medical School, the downsides of mindfulness range from mild to severe, and can manifest in various ways—from unexpected anger and anxiety all the way to depression and psychosis.

    Mindfulness can exacerbate a number of mental health conditions, bring back to the surface traumatic memories, or simply force you to deal with things that had conveniently been swept under the rug.

    Whatever your initial levels of stability (or instability), a lot can emerge in the first stages of the regular practice of meditation. Ready or not, you have to deal with it. It is disconcerting at best. In my case, it was sometimes downright depressing.

    Picture a handful of Band-Aids applied to different spots on your body. Each Band-Aid conveniently covers an injury that you’re happy to ignore (or so you think).

    Mindfulness is like peeling off the Band-Aids, one by one. It hurts.

    Then you discover what’s under them: A bad cut here. A big bruise there. The occasional infected wound. A few badly healed scars. Mindfulness makes it hard to ignore that you are, under all those Band-Aids, actually hurting, or at least not entirely recovered.

    To add insult to the injury, mindfulness has a way of preventing you from applying new Band-Aids. Things that we considered pleasant, and that help us deal with life’s vagaries, lose their appeal once we become aware of their true purpose and associated costs.

    We use, in our daily lives, an arsenal of strategies, often without knowing it: thinking patterns, daily habits, activities we view as pleasurable “add-ons,” such as eating, shopping, staring at a screen, and so on. We don’t perceive those “pursuits” as Band-Aids. Aren’t they the spice of life?

    The regular practice of meditation and a more mindful approach to life, however, sheds some light on our dependence. Any behavior that resists modification might indicate an addiction, even if it was just to chocolate, new running shorts, or social media.

    I am now, more than ever, aware of my coping mechanisms, aware that rather than making life interesting, they mostly patch up an aspect of my existence that requires attention.

    If I feel bored, tired, or stressed, no amount of sweets, sports gear, or Internet surfing will truly fill the void or fulfill the need.

    Where I would mindlessly resolve to an old habit, this new knowledge stops me in my tracks. I pause, observe, notice the underlying emotion or sensation.

    If I’m under work-related stress, such as a quickly approaching deadline, or a recalcitrant passage to translate, I will often have a sudden craving for sweets, or feel the pressing need to check my Facebook page. It’s not a coincidence, I know that now, but I needed mindfulness to realize it fully.

    Now, instead of walking to the cupboard or opening a new tab in my browser, I stay put and take a deep breath. I skip the coping mechanism and refrain applying a new Band-Aid or replacing an old one.

    Even my thought processes are modified. When certain situations repeatedly elicited the kind of stress that requires a Band-Aid, I was forced to reconsider, at least to a certain extent, the choices I had been making in various areas of my life: my career path, other types of commitments, and even some relationships. I realized I had too much on my plate and that I needed to respect my limits.

    Accepting the fact that I indeed have limits was no small feat. Even if I have long been aware of some of my “rationalizations” and “compensations,” I have never faced life with such clarity, honesty, and courage. I am proud of it. I am also unsettled.

    In spite of this, I am still fully committed to continue with my mindfulness practice. The cans of worms I am opening can be a handful, but I was carrying them anyway, and they were wearing me down. I choose to deal with them.

    Things might feel very raw, but they also feel very real. I can already sense a new level of lightness and freedom on the other side of this demanding exercise.

    I invite you to give it a try too. As we move along in our mindfulness practice, I trust that we can all find our own sweet spot, the place where an increased awareness meets a renewed sense of well-being.

    For many, this will mean starting slow. When you incorporate mindful meditation into your life, don’t go for the three-day retreat right away. Not only will it be too demanding, it might even backfire.

    Instead, simply find a quiet place where you can sit for at least five minutes, in silence, every day, and focus on the breath.

    You may feel uncomfortable at first, as the feelings you formerly numbed or avoided emerge. Don’t let that deter you. If you embrace the discomfort, you’ll eventually gain the clarity needed to acknowledge and heal old wounds, break unhealthy patterns, and generally step onto the path to a more authentic life.

  • 4 Relationship Traps to Avoid & Other Ways to Keep Your Love Strong

    4 Relationship Traps to Avoid & Other Ways to Keep Your Love Strong

    “Love does not obey our expectations; it obeys our intentions.” ~Lloyd Strom

    When I started dating, I did a terrible job of it.

    I fell in love at the turn of a unique smile and fell out of it with the first sign of a stubborn bad habit. Despite that, I was a serial monogamist. I didn’t know how to develop the mental fortitude one needed to end things when they were ready to be ended, so I let them crawl on.

    Teenage emotions are hard. Adult ones are hard, too.

    Three years, four years, three and a half years—I spent a full decade of my life, most of my twenties, in frustrating relationships that had started out as the loves of my life and turned into apathetic slogs of sharing rent and little else.

    I thought it meant I was stable. I thought not giving up said I could handle the difficulties of real life, marriage, and everything that came with it.

    The truth was I didn’t like to give up, so I tried to make each relationship perfect.

    In doing so, I made myself worse.

    Boyfriends and I would always fight: Why wouldn’t they help with dinner? Why wouldn’t they ever get off the computer? Why wouldn’t they try to get a better job?

    Sometimes, my complaints were legitimate, and they should have addressed them. But I didn’t do a good job of communicating those things even when they were.

    The more boyfriends failed to live up to my expectations, the more frustrated, angry, and hurt I’d get. Instead of realizing that we just weren’t right for one another, I drove myself down with constant, anxious questions: Why doesn’t he care enough about me to even eat dinner with me?

    With each relationship, my self-esteem dropped proportionately. By the end of the last one, before my now-fiancé and I started dating, I’d started taking anxiety medication, gained weight, and developed a deep nervousness in social situations from lack of being in them.

    I’d changed from someone who was happy with herself to someone who accepted whatever was on offer. I lost both my self-respect and my ability to confidently love another person in the process.

    I had never wanted my life to be like that. I wanted synergy; I wanted to be one-half of a power couple. Sadly, it took me many years, and many stagnant relationships, to do something about it.

    The Problem with My Serial Monogamy

    Toward the end of my last failed relationship, I realized that all of these relationships followed the same structure: I was madly in love, it faded, we argued all the time, I cried a lot, they ignored me a lot, we inevitably said something we regretted, it ended much too late.

    And I was tired of it. I hated feeling like we’d both come out worse from a relationship than better. Relationships are supposed to be synergistic; they’re meant to take two people and create something stronger than each person was individually.

    If you’re going to be in one, it should be something that makes you greater.

    That’s what I wanted: something proactive, intensive—something we both learned from, even if it didn’t last. I wanted to grow with my partner, whether it be growing old together or just growing stronger before parting.

    So my most recent ex (the only one I’m still friends with) and I ended our relationship the best way we knew how, and I set off on a mission. For the next nine months of my life, I was on a quest to figure out how I could have that synergistic, intentional love.

    I researched the best way I knew how: I Googled “How to have a good relationship.”

    (You can laugh.)

    The Internet has a lot of crazy ideas on how to answer that question. Of all the crap I sifted through, three suggestions have held. They’ve shown me how to love with intention—how to build a sound foundation so the relationship doesn’t crumble at the first fight.

    Relationship Mission Statements

    I’m a Ravenclaw-Capricorn-ENFP, so I love writing things out. Despite also having a business degree, it never occurred to me that mission statements could be for more than businesses and non-profits. Guess what: You can write one for a relationship, too.

    And unlike businesses, the value of a relationship mission statement isn’t in having something nice to add to your FAQ; it’s in the writing process itself.

    When you write a relationship mission statement, you’re forced to think about what you want to gain from the relationship and what you’re willing to put in. When two people do them together, they can be powerful.

    My fiancé and I did these at the beginning of our relationship. The conversation we had afterward where we both talked about our statements together was invaluable because, before there was ever any awkwardness and before there were any fights or hurt feelings, we both knew what we wanted and where we wanted to go.

    On a personal level, it showed me my own direction. I needed to know that so I could be intentional in my relationship.

    How Do You Write a Relationship Mission Statement?

    Well, I believe they shouldn’t be too rigidly defined. They should be natural and truthful, and the structure they take on should vary with your own values.

    You should include key things: what you will do, what you won’t do, things you might need help with, and what you want the relationship to be. Beyond that, put in whatever feels right.

    Here are some examples of how I answered those questions in my own Relationship Mission Statement for Nathan:

    What will you do in your relationship?

    I will be available to you.

    I will respect you, empathize with you, and care for you.

    What bad habits do you acknowledge that you may need to be called out on?

    I will apologize when I’m wrong, although sometimes you may have to drag it out of me, and sometimes it may take me a week before I come to it on my own.

    And:

    I will undoubtedly get moody every now and then, but I will try not to take it out on you. If I do, I will not get moodier when you call me out (because you’d better, although you also better be nice to me when I’ve had a bad day and feel like being whiny and eating macaroni and cheese with cut-up hotdogs for dinner). I will be nice to you and make you mac & cheese & hotdogs when you’re feeling whiny, too. I will call you on your stuff when it’s gone on long enough.

    What do you promise not to do in your relationship?

    I will not be petty. I will not be spiteful. I will never speak to you with contempt, dismiss your ideas or opinions, or give you the silent treatment when I’m mad at you.

    What do you expect from your relationship?

    I will help you grow, and watch you grow through your own efforts. I will stand next to you when you need me there, and stand back when you need to do it yourself. I will be my own person and allow you to be yours.

    And I sum it all up with what matters most:

    I will not give up when things get difficult, but I will let you go if it ever comes to be what you need to be happy. I will help you find what makes you happy, and help you achieve it. I will do everything with intention.

    I promise you, so long as I’m with you, we will be greater together than the sum of us apart.

    Weekly Check-Ins

    Every week, we have Monday Night Talks.

    In the beginning, these involved both of us being totally honest and sharing the things we felt good about that week and the things that upset us, along with a rating of how we currently felt about our relationship (1-10). Now, we skip the rating because we’re consistently in the 8-10 range, but it was a great metric for us at the beginning.

    Why? Because choosing a number is easy starting point for explaining “Why.”

    It’s easy to assume everything’s great because you think it’s great, but when you’re hit with an unexpected “I give us a 5 this week,” you’re forced to remember the other person’s feelings.

    Monday Night Talks is our favorite tool. It has saved us from falling into that trap of getting angry, not saying anything, and then blowing up about it months later.

    These chats need to be a set date, every week—not a “whenever” chat.

    If you don’t set the date and stick to it every week, then you won’t get comfortable being so open with one another. Then, when you have a major grievance to air, you’ll be more likely to sit on it or get passive-aggressive about it.

    Developing strong communication habits early is key. Not only does it help your partner, but it also helps you. Constant, honest communication builds trust and reduces the urge to be defensive. If your relationship’s already in progress, then it’s not too late to start, but the earlier, the better.

    It makes your relationship stronger when you’re both able to confidently give and receive feedback. Without it, confidence is hard to come by. Be sure to give feedback with intention; don’t be passive aggressive, don’t be nasty.

    Beware the Four Horsemen

    Dr. John Gottman found that there were four habits in couples that predicted divorce: criticism, defensiveness, contempt, and stonewalling. He called these the Four Horsemen.

    Criticism

    This is when you make it personal. If you have a grievance, make it known directly. Instead of “You never listen to me,” try “This is important to me, and it upsets me when it looks like you’re not listening. Can you set your phone aside for a few minutes while we talk?”

    (I promise, talking this way gets easier and less awkward.)

    Defensiveness

    This was the hardest for my fiancé and me. It’s not easy to admit you’re wrong. Learning not to get defensive when the other person brought up a legitimate concern (not criticism) was so beneficial.

    We are rarely 100% innocent in fights. Take a deep breath and listen to the other person. When you’re busy trying to defend yourself, you can’t listen. If you can’t listen, you can’t solve the problem.

    Contempt

    This often shows up in relationships that have had a history of criticism and defensiveness. Mocking, sarcasm, rolling your eyes, and scoffing doesn’t make you the better person. They make you someone who wants to destroy your own relationship. Because that’s what contempt will do.

    I promise you: Rolling your eyes will not make your partner suddenly see that you’re right.

    Stonewalling

    You may find yourself tempted to give in to the silent treatment. Do yourself a favor and don’t. Be honest: Does it really make you happier to stonewall your partner? Does it show that you value the other person? Or does it just drag the fight out longer?

    Stonewalling can also include picking up your cell phone to text while the other person is talking, walking out of the room, and saying things like “Forget it.”

    I believe knowing and avoiding these four habits can save many relationships. It has saved mine. Being conscious of all of them has forced me to pause when I get angry or annoyed. I ask myself if what I’m tempted to say is intentional or lashing out. If it doesn’t benefit our relationship, I don’t say it. This has to go both ways, so get your partner on board with communication early and often.

    You Get What You Create, Not What You Expect

    My relationship isn’t your relationship, but I’ve found so much positivity in these few proactive changes, and I hope even one of them can help you. So many other couples suffer from the Four Horsemen, but it is possible not to fall into these relationship traps.

    You just need to be intentional and respectful to yourself and the other person. Create the relationship you want with your partner with intention. Be mindful and choose a mindful partner. It’s okay if you both have to learn as you go along. It’s okay if you stumble; acknowledge it, correct it, and move on. Don’t hold grudges.

    Improving my skill with relationships has helped me in other areas, too.

    My anxiety has plummeted. I’m no longer constantly stressed. I’ve found time again for things that I once loved and let fall to the side. I’ve accomplished exponentially more in my personal life since adding these changes to my relationships (the Four Horsemen are also applicable to friends and family) than I did in the entire decade I trudged through those previous relationships.

    When you’re not fighting through a toxic relationship (romantic or otherwise), you have the time and energy to grow. You can have passions. You can create legacies.

    Don’t forget that you’re one-half of every relationship you’re in. Don’t forget the other person is the other half. It takes both of you to make the whole. Create the whole with intention.

  • How to Feel Good Enough (When You Feel Anything But)

    How to Feel Good Enough (When You Feel Anything But)

    Woman hiding

    “There are plenty of difficult obstacles in your path. Don’t allow yourself to become one of them.” ~Ralph Marston

    I recently had a personal conversation with someone who was describing some struggles they were experiencing. In passing, they mentioned “It’s okay for you, you’ve fought your battles” and went on to talk about how I’m married, I’m working in a career I love, and I’m “successful.”

    Listening to them, I could feel my heart breaking, partly for them: I know what it’s like to compare my insides to someone else’s outsides and find myself severely wanting.

    But I also felt a deep sadness tinged with frustration, because their assumption was so far from the truth.

    While I am incredibly grateful to have the relationship, the professional opportunities, and everything else I have—and it’s true there are some battles that are now in my past—there are also plenty of challenges I’m still navigating. The biggest one by far is around feeling good enough; feeling at peace and fulfilled with who I am and what I’m doing in life.

    For a long time, I used external achievement to buoy my sense of worthiness. Underneath that, however, hid a lot of shame and anxiety, because I thought I was somehow deficient compared to other people. I felt a constant need to reinvent myself and be more than I currently was to keep up with those around me.

    Feeling good enough (and defining what good enough is) has been one of my biggest struggles and something I’ve realized will possibly be a lifelong process.

    I’d like to share some of my experiences and talk about a few things I’ve found helpful for my own ongoing journey. If you also struggle to feel good enough as you are, I hope they are helpful for you too:

    1. “Good enough” looks like different things in different contexts. 

    I used to set myself up for failure by telling myself something needed to be perfect to be good enough. Now, I’ve learned “good enough” exists on a spectrum, influenced by the situation, the context and other things that are happening in life, as well as my well-being, my values, and my priorities.

    In her book Succeed, psychologist Heidi Grant Halvorson explains it’s more helpful to focus on “getting better” rather than “being good.”

    When we focus on the latter, we tend to tie our self-worth to achievement and see ourselves either as a success or a failure. With the former, we are more open to the idea that skills, capability, and achievement are malleable things we can influence with our beliefs and behavior.

    When I tell myself the story that something has to go exactly to plan or it’s a total failure, I’m less likely to try things, I’m less open to feedback that will help me improve, and ultimately, I’m less likely to grow.

    If I try something and it doesn’t work out, it might feel painful in the short-term, but I know I’ll feel much better (and prouder of myself) looking back and knowing I’ve tried than looking back at a missed opportunity.

    I’ve also learned that it’s important to define “good enough” on my terms. Other people might have different ideas about what it means and looks like, but I can’t control that. Equally, there will always be someone who is smarter, more talented, more accomplished, more X and more Y than I am. The only person it’s helpful for me to compare myself to is me, yesterday.

    2. I focus on who I want to be more than what I want to achieve.

    Unhooking my self-worth from external achievement is still a work in progress, but one of the things I’ve found most helpful is focusing on the bigger picture. Sometimes this looks like asking myself, “How important is this particular thing going to be to me in ten years’ time?” (Usual answer: not very!). More often than not, it involves shifting from thinking about doing to being.

    While many of us place a huge amount of stock on external achievement, there are usually many variables beyond our control that influence the outcome of a situation. Even if we do our best and do everything right, we might still feel “not good enough” because those external variables mean we didn’t get the gold star or top prize.

    What we do have control over, however, are the qualities we embody. When I find myself slipping into “not good enough” thoughts, I find it helpful to stop and ask myself: Who do I want to be today? This reminds me I want to show up in my life as a creator, not as a victim, with compassion, not judgment, and calmly and wholeheartedly, rather than fighting an internal war.

    3. I focus on all the things I’m getting right (as well as the things I think I’m getting wrong).

    My inner critic is a champ at highlighting all the things I’m doing wrong and all the ways I could improve, usually with a big helping of shame and judgment on the side. A big part of my journey has been learning to turn down the volume on this part of my internal dialogue and turn up the volume on the part I call my inner mentor.

    My inner mentor is also good at pointing out things I could improve, but she does it with a very different tone.

    She is also a lot more question-orientated (while my inner critic throws statements around like confetti) and tends to ask open-ended queries like “How could you approach that situation differently in the future?”

    She also balances constructive criticism with acknowledging all the things I’m getting right too.

    I encourage my inner mentor with simple exercises like keeping a “have done” list (as opposed to a “to do” list) and taking time each week to reflect on positive experiences, new opportunities, things I feel proud of, and lessons learned.

     4. I remember just because I think something doesn’t mean it’s true.

    Like my companion at the beginning of this post, I can feel very alone when I’m in the grip of a “not good enough” episode.

    During these times, and especially with the prevalence of curated social media feeds, it’s easy to look at other people’s lives and make all kinds of assumptions and judgments about how well things are going for them, even feeling a teensy bit resentful about how challenging our life feels compared to how easy theirs seems.

    Having spent the best part of the last decade working with emotional support in one capacity or another, I’ve realized that “good enough” is not the result of circumstance, achievement, money, or success.

    The Latin root of the word compassion is “suffering with.” Everyone feels like or fears they are not good enough at some point or another. Fearing that we are not good enough doesn’t make us not good enough; it just makes us human.

    Remembering this helps me feel less alone, which enables me to start gently challenging that voice and asking “Is that really true?” “What are the other alternatives here?” “How would I respond if my best friend was telling me this?” and “Who would I be without this belief? What would I do differently?”

    Finally, I’ve learned there isn’t a “one size fits all” way to feel comfortable and enough within ourselves. There are many different paths to the same destination, and the right path for us is the one that fits our values, feels truthful, and helps us connect with whom we truly are.

    How do you navigate feeling not good enough in your own life? I’d love to hear what you find most helpful, so leave a comment and share your thoughts.

  • How to Stop Believing Negative Things About Yourself

    How to Stop Believing Negative Things About Yourself

    “If you accept a limiting belief, then it will become truth for you.” ~Louise Hay

    Have you ever felt like you weren’t living up to your potential? That chasing your ultimate dream is a waste of time because you’ll never accomplish it? You’re certainly not alone. I know the feeling, and quite frankly, it’s awful.

    Recently, I had occasion to visit a cemetery for military members and their families. I saw tombstones over 100 years old. Some of the people lived long lives, while many did not have the privilege of growing old.

    As I walked, I couldn’t help but think of the kind of lives they’d lived. Some saw unimaginable horrors in war that no doubt changed the quality and trajectory of their lives. Were most of these people happy and fulfilled? I didn’t know; tombstones don’t talk.

    The thoughts that kept coming back were: “How many of them went to their grave with regret? How many settled and accepted the labels assigned, without ever finding the satisfaction of breaking free and living life the way they truly wanted?”

    Going to the grave without ever realizing my full potential—that scares me to the bone. It’s something that I have had to fight for most of my life. It’s something that I emphatically refuse to let happen.

    Like most people, I took on the labels that authority figures assigned me at a young age. It’s what kids do.

    As the years go by, those labels, whether true or not, become sewn into the fabric of our being. They become part of our core, the vocabulary we use about ourselves, and the thoughts we hold of ourselves.

    The crime here is that so many times the labels have absolutely no anchor in truth. Rather, they are skewed or twisted interpretations that others have about us, or they are our skewed and twisted interpretations of things said and done to us. Rarely are the negative beliefs we hold about ourselves actually true.

    My nemesis was the belief “I am lazy.” In adulthood, after studying counseling theory for years in college, I finally figured out where it came from. I had always just assumed it was part of who I was.

    It came from my sixth-grade teacher telling my parents, before I moved up to junior high the following year, that I would be placed into remedial classes. I had tremendous potential, she said. But I was lazy and wasn’t performing to my full capability.

    My parents sat me down and broke the news. I was devastated. I knew all of the harsh things that other kids would say. I had heard them said before about others and didn’t like it. But now they would be saying it about me.

    That belief directed the course of my life. I walked through life believing I was lazy and began using that word in my inner vocabulary all because, at the age of eleven, my teacher and parents told me I was lazy.

    I never questioned it; I just accepted it. After all, why would my parents and teacher say it if it wasn’t true? They were supposed to know better than me.

    That is how the negative beliefs we hold about ourselves hold us back from unleashing the greatness within. Kids don’t have the cognitive capacity or life experience to question such things. They take the words of authority figures as truth, just as we are conditioned to do.

    If you’ve done the same, you must know that it doesn’t have to continue. There is a better way, and that way is to identify the negative beliefs that you hold deep down and challenge and reframe them through the lens of wisdom and experience.

    Going back to my example, I challenged that belief in my early thirties.

    What I found is that my teacher and parents did not take into consideration the fact that my mother and biological father went through an extremely violent divorce. He was the criminal leader of a notorious motorcycle gang.

    I didn’t have a stable, comfortable home environment, and academics certainly weren’t at the top of the priority list. My mom did her best, but working two or three jobs makes it difficult to do homework with the kids every day.

    Living in constant fear at such a tender age is not prime for a child’s development. Also, I started kindergarten before I turned five, so I was quite young for school.

    The sum of these circumstances contributed to my early struggles in school. It wasn’t because I was lazy or choosing not to live up to my potential.

    When I looked back through a different lens that only experience and wisdom can provide, I knew neither my parents nor my teacher meant any harm. They simply didn’t know any better, and the teacher never asked about what was happening at home. Putting myself in their shoes made me better understand what happened.

    I took on their words without ever asking myself, “Is it true?” Had I not taken the time to challenge this deep-seated belief, there is not a doubt in my mind that I would be an underperforming, underachieving, underpaid underling today. Changing that belief literally changed my life.

    The only thing stopping you from doing the same is you. If you hold negative views about yourself, you are not living life authentically. If you let the words of others define who you are, you are setting yourself up for failure. And chances are, you’ll become one of the people who get to the cemetery clutching regret.

    I don’t want that for you. You don’t want that for you. Make some time today to take back your authentic self by taking these four steps to eliminate any negative core beliefs you hold.

    1. Write down or say out loud the belief (preferably both).

    2. Think back to the earliest time you can remember having that belief.

    What happened that made you feel that way? Did someone say something that hurt your feelings? Put yourself in that moment again and hear their words, see their actions, and feel whatever comes up. Don’t push it aside. Stay there for a few minutes.

    3. After you’ve replayed it in your mind, put yourself in the other person’s shoes and reframe it.

    What was going on with them? Were they frustrated, stressed, or angry? This is important because it could signal that something was said in a moment when the person was lashing out and did not mean to harm. It could also reveal that you took something out of context.

    4. Challenge the belief.

    Write down the unequivocal proof that the person was right. Note—this must be unequivocal proof. Not opinion, emotion, or pity.

    If there is no proof, the belief is false and should be discarded. You will feel lighter after releasing it. If there is proof, you now have a rock-solid foundation from which to start changing.

    Changing behavior need not be intimidating. It requires that you be mindful when making decisions. You’ll want to make decisions that will get you to where you want to go in life. I ask myself a single game-changing question in everything I do: “Is this in alignment with my authentic purpose?” If it isn’t, I choose instead to do something that is.

    When you do that consistently, you’ll change both the behavior and the negative belief.

    You’ll gain confidence and momentum, and you’ll start achieving things that once seemed out of reach.

    Most importantly, you’ll realize that others’ words don’t define you. The words you use about yourself and the actions you take do.

  • 5 Ways I’ve Lived Life More Fully Since My Cancer Scare

    5 Ways I’ve Lived Life More Fully Since My Cancer Scare

    Couple on a mountain

    “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” ~Albert Einstein

    A few months ago, I had my first mammogram. I have two first cousins who died of breast cancer very young, as well as an aunt that recently passed away from the disease, so I started my mammograms a bit earlier than most.

    This mammogram was quite routine, except that a few days later they asked me to come back for another one, as well as an ultrasound. This second visit was more like those shows or movies when you feel someone is about to get very bad news.

    People kept staring at the screen with very serious looks but ignoring me. They called in more people, who also stared at the screen and scrunched their foreheads. Then the doctor came, and stayed for about an hour, looking at the screen and not telling me anything. After about three hours, I was told to come back for a biopsy.

    The biopsy went quite smoothly, and I was told that the results would be ready in about ten days.

    For these ten days, I was mostly sure that it would all be fine, but a part of me felt that perhaps the long life I always assumed I would have could be cut short. Rather than stressing about it, I began to live as if I could die, very very soon.

    Here are the things I started doing. Now that I gratefully found out that I am cancer-free, I continue to live this way and it has greatly enhanced my quality of life:

    1. Each morning in bed when I first wake up, I take a moment to notice I’m alive.

    I take a breath in and feel what is true for me in that moment. Even if I feel heavy, dark, tired, or afraid, I let myself feel that. Then I bring some love and compassion to whatever state I’m in. I feel my body, my breath, and feel a sense of gratitude for just being here, awake, alive.

    Next, I envision the day ahead. From the outset, I acknowledge that all the things I wish to do may not get done. I allow room for imperfection.

    Lastly, I bring to mind my highest aspiration, to be a calm and peaceful presence, to be of service to others as best I can, to live as best as I am able. Then I get out of bed.

    The lesson: Remember that many people went to sleep last night and did not wake up this morning. Today is a gift. Recognizing that each morning gives you a powerful start to the day.

    2. I prepare myself for the day as if it was a special occasion.

    Before my cancer scare, I used to save my best dresses for parties or holidays. I wore makeup only once in a while. My regular workdays were a matter of pulling on my most comfortable sweater, putting my hair up, and getting out the door.

    These days, I wear my best outfits all the time. I invested in some makeup that makes me feel beautiful, and I take the extra five minutes each morning to put it on.

    By the time I walk out the door, I feel as if I’m ready to take the world on by storm, welcoming and honoring the day as the profound miracle that it truly is, and each task as an opportunity to bring my best self forward.

    The lesson: Imagine you were going to star in a movie today. How would you get ready for the day? Don’t forget that each day, you star in the movie of your life. Make it count!

    3. I fully embody today instead of living as if there is some better place ahead I have to get to.

    I used to think that what I was doing in any given moment was okay, but there would be a time when it would be just a bit better. Eventually, I’d take on some promotion at work, get in a groove with my business, and really feel that I had made it and my life had some sort of order and permanence to it.

    My cancer scare showed me that this time never comes. We have this fantasy of thinking life is about to get started, and then it ends, just like that. The only time we can get started living is in this moment.

    I no longer wait for a better time to become more engaged in my work, more loving to my family and friends, more committed to my mindfulness practice. I do it all now, as best I can.

    It will never feel orderly or permanent, and I will make many mistakes along the way. But I no longer hold back. A better time will never come, so I choose to jump in 100% today.

    The lesson: Are you waiting to reach a particular goal or milestone in order to really start living? What would happen if today, you started living as if you had already gotten there? Ultimately, what we are searching for is the feeling of living our purpose, and we can choose to do this every single day.

    4. I think of what I would like people to say about me when I am gone, and live this way.

    Sometimes, I look at people who have something “more” than me and wish I had it—a higher position, a better yoga practice, more friends, a relaxed way about them.

    While very easily noticing someone who has more than us can make us feel inadequate, in other ways, it can help us define who we want to be today.

    Each day, when I contemplate my highest aspiration, I ask myself, what qualities do I want people to remember me by? I think of the people I admire most, and notice that it is not necessarily the highest ranked or the most flexible.

    It’s the openness, the kindness, the presence, the joy in being together that I remember. So I find these qualities in myself, and let them shine. As best as I am able.

    The lesson: Think about the qualities that you most admire in your best friend, a mentor, guide, or teacher. Can you allow these same qualities to shine within you? We all have within ourselves the potential for greatness. Don’t be afraid to let your own light shine.

    5. I take opportunities to notice nature throughout the day.

    My highly active mind often leads to me getting somewhere without actually knowing how I got there. I get stuck in planning, organizing, analyzing in my head, and miss the beauty that is present along the way.

    My yoga teacher Felicia recently challenged me to notice nature each time it is available. It may be only a small tree in a busy city corner, or a flower in the middle of a row of cubicles. Nature reminds us of the wonder of just being alive, without needing anything else at all.

    Now, I take more time to notice the buds in the trees, the squirrels running around, and the dogs that are so happy not to be freezing anymore. They bring a smile to my face and reconnect me with my inherent sense of aliveness and wellbeing.

    The lesson: Today, on your walk home from work, take a moment to notice nature. Even if it’s a small tree or the clouds in the sky, focus on this. When your mind wanders to something that happened earlier, or what you will do next, kindly but firmly bring it back to nature. Can you feel how you too are part of this miracle of life?

    My short encounter with my own mortality reminded me that there is beauty in the ordinary. A life well lived is not necessarily full of glory and admiration, but one of clear intention and authenticity.

    Being true to myself and bringing kindness to each moment as best I can empowers me to know that when my last day does come, I will have truly lived.

  • 10 Lessons My Mother’s Death Taught Me About Healing and Happiness

    10 Lessons My Mother’s Death Taught Me About Healing and Happiness

    “Grief, when it comes, is nothing like we expect it to be.” ~Joan Didion

    This spring marked ten years since I lost my mother. One ordinary Thursday, she didn’t show up to work, and my family spent a blur of days frantically hanging missing person fliers, driving all over New England, and hoping against reason for a happy outcome.

    My mother was prone to frequent mood swings, but she also talked to my two older brothers and me multiple times a day, and going off the grid was completely out of character. How does someone just vanish? And why?

    Forty days is a long time to brood over worst-case scenarios: murder, kidnap, dissociative fugue cycled through my addled mind. I gave in to despair but always managed to buoy myself up with hope. My mom was my best friend, and at twenty years old, I needed her too much to lose her. She simply had to come home.

    Six weeks later, my brother called. Right up front he said he loved me—a sure sign bad news was coming. There was no way to say what he had to say next, so he just spat it out like sour milk: our mother’s body had been found.

    A diver checking moorings in a cold New England harbor had spotted something white on the ocean floor. That white whale was our mom’s station wagon. She had driven off the end of a pier. We didn’t say the word suicide, but we both thought it, failed to comprehend it.

    It’s been ten years since that terrible spring. Much of it still doesn’t make sense to me, but a decade has softened the rawness of my grief and allowed moments of lightness to find their way back into my life, the way sunrise creeps around the edges of a drawn window shade.

    Losing someone to suicide makes you certain you’ll never see another sunrise, much less appreciate one. It isn’t true. I’m thirty years old now and my life is bigger, scarier, and more fulfilling than I ever could have imagined. Grief helped get me here.

    Grief is not something you can hack. There is no listicle that can reassemble your busted heart. But I have found that grieving can make your life richer in unexpected ways. Here are ten truths the biggest loss of my life has taught me:

    1. Dying is really about living.

    At my mother’s memorial, I resented everyone who said some version of that old platitude, “Time heals all wounds.” Experience has taught me that time doesn’t offer a linear healing process so much as a slowly shifting perspective.

    In the first raw months and years of grieving, I pushed away family and friends, afraid that they would leave too. With time, though, I’ve forged close relationships and learned to trust again. Grief wants you to go it alone, but we need others to light the way through that dark tunnel.

    2. No one will fill that void.

    I have a mom-shaped hole in my heart. Turns out it’s not a fatal condition, but it is a primal spot that no one will ever fill. For a long time, I worried that with the closest relationship in my life suddenly severed, I would never feel whole again. Who would ever understand me in all the ways my mother did?

    These days I have strong female role models in my life, but I harbor no illusions that any of them will take my mom’s place. I’ve slowly been able to let go of the guilt that I was replacing or dishonoring her by making room for others. Healing is not an act of substituting, but of expanding, despite the holes we carry.

    3. Be easy on yourself. 

    In the months after losing my mother, I was clumsy, forgetful and foggy. I can’t recall any of the college classes I took during that time. Part of my grieving process entailed beating myself up for what I could not control, and my brain fog felt like yet another failure.

    In time, the fog lifted and my memories returned. I’ve come to see this as my mind going into survival mode with its own coping mechanisms.

    Being kind to myself has never been my strong suit, and grief likes to make guilt its sidekick. Meditation, yoga, and journaling are three practices that help remind me that kindness is more powerful than listening to my inner saboteur.

    4. Use whatever works. 

    I’m not a Buddhist, but I find the concept of letting go and not clinging to anything too tightly to be powerful.

    I don’t read self-help, but I found solace in Joan Didion’s memoir The Year of Magical Thinking.

    I’m not religious, but I found my voice in a campus support group run by a chaplain.

    I hadn’t played soccer since I was a kid, but I joined an adult recreational league and found that I could live completely in the moment while chasing a ball around a field.

    There isn’t a one-size-fits-all grieving method. Much of it comes down to flailing around until you find what works. Death is always unexpected; so too are the ways we heal.

    5. Gratitude wins.

    We always feel that we lost a loved one too soon. My mom gave me twenty good years. Of course I would’ve liked more time, but self-pity and gratitude are flipsides of the same coin; choosing the latter will serve you in positive ways, while the former gives you absolutely nothing.

    6. Choose to thrive.

    My mom and I share similar temperaments. After her death, I worried I was also destined for an unhappy outcome. This is one of the many tricks that grief plays: it makes you think you don’t deserve happiness.

    It’s easier to self-destruct than it is to practice self-care. I initially coped through alcohol and other destructive methods, but I knew this was only clouding my grieving process. I had to face the pain directly, and write my way through it. So I wrote a book.

    Everyone has their own constructive coping mechanisms, and choosing those, even when it’s hard, is worth it in the long run. My mother may not have been able to find happiness in her own life, but I know she would want that for me. No one is going to water you like a plant—you have to choose to thrive.

    7. Time heals, but on its own timeline.

    “Time heals all wounds” is something I heard a lot at my mother’s memorial service. Here’s what I wish I had known: grief time does not operate like normal time. In the first year, the present was obscured entirely by the past. Grieving demanded that I revisit every detail leading up to losing my mom.

    As I slowly started to find effective coping mechanisms, I began to feel more rooted in the present. My mood did not have to be determined by the hurts of the past.

    There will always be good days and bad. This is the bargain we sign on for as humans. Once we make it through the worst days, we gain a heightened sense of appreciation for the small moments of joy to be found in normal days. Healing comes over time, but only if we’re willing to do the work of grieving.

    8. Let your loss highlight your gains.

    I’ve lived in New York City for eight years now, but it still shocks me that I’ve built a life that I love here. It’s a gift I attribute to my mom. She was always supportive of my stubborn desire to pursue a career as a writer. After she died, the only thing that made sense to me was to write about the experience.

    This led me to grad school in New York, a place I had never even considered living before. It feels like home now. I wish I could share it with my mom, but it was her belief in me that got me here. I lost my mom, but I found a home, good friends, a career I love and the perspective to appreciate it all.

    9. Heartbreak is a sign of progress.

    In the first years after the big loss, I assumed romance was dead to me. Why would I allow someone else to break my heart? Luckily I got past this fear to the point where I was able to experience a long and loving relationship.

    That relationship eventually imploded, but I did not, which strikes me as a sign of progress. Grief makes us better equipped to weather the other life losses that are sure to come. This is not pessimism. This is optimism that the rewards of love always trump its risks.

    10. Grief makes us beginners.

    Death is the only universal, and grieving makes beginners out of all of us. Yet grief affects us all in different ways. There is no instruction manual on how best to cope.

    There is only time, day by day and sometimes minute by minute, to feel what works, and to cast aside what does not. In the ten years I’ve learned to live without my mother, I’ve tried to see my grieving process as an evolutionary one. Loss has enriched my life in challenging, unexpected, and maybe even beautiful ways.

  • 5 Reasons to Embrace Alone Time & Take Yourself on an Artist Date

    5 Reasons to Embrace Alone Time & Take Yourself on an Artist Date

    “It is only in solitude that I ever find my own core.” ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

    When was the last time you took yourself on a date?

    Not just you and a friend, or you and your partner, or you and your kid(s). Just you, yourself, and you.

    I’m not talking about staying home with a good book, or taking a bubble bath (though I’m a huge fan of bubble baths), or watching a movie by yourself on your couch.

    I’m talking about venturing into the world alone to do something fun and outside of your ordinary routine—something that supplies fresh new sensory inputs to the creative well that resides in your right brain, with nobody else’s opinion coloring your own.

    Whether you think you’re an artist or not, Artist Dates will enrich you.

    I was a left-brained international economist when I first heard the term “Artist Date” about twenty years ago.

    I had won a door prize at a networking event that included a free session with a life coach (still a nascent industry at the time—I had never even heard the term before). After a few exercises to hone in on my heart’s true passion, the coach recommended I read Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity.

    Though I didn’t identify myself as either artistic or spiritual at the time, I liked the idea of carving out a tiny bit of space for myself. My days were stretched thin between work demands, two young sons, and managing the care of my grandmother. I hired a babysitter and gave Artist Dates a try.

    Just as Julia Cameron had promised, I returned home from my solo excursions inspired, rejuvenated, and with a multitude of new ideas, none of which had anything to do with economics.

    “Art’s not really my thing,” you might be thinking to yourself.  

    Here’s the cool part: Artist Dates don’t have to involve “art” in the traditional sense. Their purpose is to simply spark delight, engage your senses, and move you out of your left brain analytical thinking for a while.

    Walking through a stream in bare feet, enjoying a good meal at a new restaurant—really taking in the aroma, textures, and tastes—or trying out the new swing set in the park down the road are all excellent Artist Dates.

    Because even if you don’t think of yourself as an “artist,” creativity serves every aspect of our lives and problem-solving capabilities at home, in relationships, and at work. Artist Dates nurture your inner creative child.

    No, you’re not a loser if you go out alone…

    When friends and family asked what I was doing on my birthday this year, I said, “I’m taking myself to an art museum exhibit.” (Yes, I actually do find art museums fun.)

    The response was unanimous: “By yourself?”

    Yes. By myself.

    I could feel them squirming in discomfort on the other end of the phone line. You can practically hear what’s going on inside their heads:

    “That’s sad! Doesn’t she have any friends to take her out on her birthday? What about her husband?”

    Sure I do. And for the record, my husband rocks at birthdays.

    But the person I wanted to celebrate my birthday with this year was my true self. I wanted to give myself the space to process and express her own impressions of the world without interruption. I didn’t want the responsibility of making anyone else happy that day other than myself, who has gotten me through a lot in this life.

    But being alone with her took some practice.

    Don’t listen to that other voice that tries to talk you out of your Artist Date…

    OK, so you’ve decided to take yourself on an Artist Date. Be prepared. Your ego—the source of that internal critic—will try to talk you out of it.

    You can surely find something more important to do.

    You’re a bad mother/father if you leave you kid(s) at home and do something fun. 

    Stop being silly. You’re not an artist, or even creative. Time is money. Stop wasting it.

    Look your ego in the eye and respond firmly: “BE QUIET. YOU ARE NOT IN THE DRIVER’S SEAT.”

    Even after you’ve managed to get yourself out the door and to your intended destination, the voice won’t stop.

    People are looking at you.

    You must look lonely and sad, pathetic really.

    What if you bump into someone you know? They might tell the neighbors or office mates that they found you wandering around alone. What will that do to your reputation?

    On the rare chance that you do actually bump into someone you know, they might ask you to join them because they feel sorry for you. Decline politely, in a nicer tone than you might have to use with your ego. Egos don’t back down very easily.

    5 Reasons the Effort of an Artist Date Is Worth It

    1. We rarely have space in our lives to hear our deepest responses to new experiences.

    Our opinion is often colored by another’s reaction. If we like a sculpture or a movie, we hope our friend likes it too. If they don’t like it, our own enjoyment may be diluted.

    Don’t get me wrong—sharing different viewpoints is healthy. But every once in a while it’s good to give your full, unfiltered attention to how you are processing the world.

    2. Research has proven that multitasking is a myth.

    Our brains can’t think about more than one thing at a time, but rather move back and forth quickly between tasks.

    To fully experience a new input—whether through studying the details of a painting, feeling the physical sensations of wind and water walking on the beach, or listening to a great piece of music—we need time to ourselves. We are pulled out of the sensory experience each time we have to talk to someone or even think about their response.

    3. Artist Dates reconnect us with our right brain, the non-analytic, non-judgmental source of our creativity and “outside of the box” problem-solving capability.

    Any activity that activates our fives senses engages our right brain. In a world that’s constantly judging, comparing, and critiquing (all the domain of the left brain), Artist Dates bring more balance to all of us.

    4. Staying connected to our right brain is key to inner peace.

    Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, after experiencing a stroke that completely shut down her left brain hemisphere, describes our right hemisphere consciousness as “completely committed to the expression of peace, love, joy, and compassion in the world.” She should know, since she lived there for quite a while when her left brain was healing.

    5. Learning to be comfortable in our own company is a skill that takes practice.

    The earlier you start, the more prepared you’ll be if your life path leads to some alone time.

    So go on! Put an Artist Date on your calendar. Practice spending time with yourself now, and you’ll never be dependent on someone else for your own happiness again.