Tiny Buddha

Category: Blog

  • How I Stopped Feeling Angry with Everything and Everyone (Including Myself)

    How I Stopped Feeling Angry with Everything and Everyone (Including Myself)

    “Tears of despair can be fuel. Thunders of anger can be light.” ~Maxime Lagacé

    Let’s talk about rockets.

    This is going somewhere, I promise.

    If you ever watch a rocket launch, you’ll see a large cylinder fall off once it gets to a certain height. Breaking earth’s gravity is not easy, so the cylinder is filled with a high-powered propellant that helps the rocket gain altitude.

    The thing is, once all the propellant is gone, the cylinder becomes dead weight, so it has to be jettisoned. Otherwise, the rocket would fall back to earth, and all of that work would have been for nothing.

    Now for an abrupt segue.

    I entered my twenties as a very angry young man. I was angry at the world for being difficult and not doing what I wanted it to do.

    I was angry with a lot of my close friends because they had the nerve to go on with their lives and do normal things like graduate college and have long-term relationships. They had even stopped drinking every day.

    I was angry with my family and people who cared about me because they were always pointing out all the things I was doing that were not going to turn out well.

    More than anything, though, I was angry with myself. My drinking and drug use were completely out of control, but I could not figure out what I needed to do about it.

    I was angry with myself because I had dropped out of high school and then been kicked out of college a few times, and I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I wouldn’t have had the skill set necessary to do what I wanted even if I had known what it was.

    There was this one James who wanted to do good things with his life and be responsible and all that good stuff. Then there was another James who always showed up and wrecked everything.

    Good James was fighting an uphill battle because not-so-good-James could torpedo months of work with one decision. He was an elite assassin: one shot, one kill, and he always had my life in his crosshairs.

    I couldn’t seem to get traction. I knew I was in a hole, but for some reason I kept digging. When I finally hit rock bottom, I decided it was time to get a jackhammer.

    Feeling Like a Loser

    There’s a particular frustration with being a loser that’s hard to explain to people who’ve never been one. People look at you a certain way, people treat you a certain way. You tend to treat yourself poorly because it feels like you’re going to waste any opportunity that comes your way.

    It’s frustrating and infuriating and debilitating all at once.

    We could dive into all the reasons for this and the psychology behind it, but the simple fact was that I had just turned twenty, and I felt like I had already made irreparable mistakes. The consequences felt insurmountable.

    After a few car wrecks and trips to jail, I moved to West Texas to try again. I was about to be a dad. I knew that things needed to be different, but I didn’t quite understand how to make that happen.

    I talked a little bit about how going to the library and getting into things like meditation made a huge difference in another post, but I’m not sure anything changed my life as much as becoming a father.

    Now, it shouldn’t be surprising for me to say that I was not the kind of guy you want caring for a baby. I was emotionally immature, entitled, self-destructive, and I had zero insight. And those might have been my better qualities.

    I didn’t think about what I did as anything I was actually doing. It was just the way things were. My self-absorption was near 100%, so seeing outside myself was near impossible.

    I remember holding my son for the first time and thinking, “I’m sorry, kid, but you got screwed in the dad lottery.” I’m not being self-deprecating here when I say that. He had gotten screwed in that lottery. But that thought was followed by another thought that I had never really had before: “What if I did something different”?

    I had definitely thought about doing something different many times, but I’d never taken it seriously. People like me didn’t change, so it was always one of those thoughts that floats through your brain that you don’t pay much attention to.

    I don’t know why, but this time was different.

    A weird thing happened at this point. All that anger from being a loser for so long stopped paralyzing me and became rocket fuel for me to do better (I told you the rocket thing was going somewhere).

    All those years of feeling like people were looking down on me and being told that I had potential that I wasn’t living up to, gave me focus and energy that I’d never had before.

    I quit drinking and using drugs and burned through a bachelor’s degree in a few years. I even quit smoking cigarettes, which ended up being a lot harder than I thought it would be compared to everything else.

    I worked as a social worker for a few years and then went back and got a master’s in sociology. It was great information but wasn’t a useful degree without a doctorate, so I went and got a master’s in counseling as well.

    Through all of that, my desire to show people that I wasn’t a loser, my desire for the people who had looked down on me to see success and know they were wrong, drove me.

    Crashing Back to Earth

    Anger was a great propellant until it wasn’t.

    Anger had driven me to make a lot of good decisions and invest in myself and do some things that were good for me, but all of these changes had also changed the world I lived in. I was now able to pass as a healthy person, so I was working and spending time in healthy environments.

    I didn’t need all of that anger to keep driving me forward, and much like the empty propellant tank, it began to drag me back down.

    I still saw most of the people around me as untrustworthy and threatening. I was militantly dedicated to protecting my time and making sure I took care of the things I needed to take care of.

    If I’m honest, there was a deep fear that if I stopped sprinting forward, I was going to start sliding backward, and I’d be a loser again before I knew it. That’s one of the tough things about being a loser—I’m not sure the feeling ever goes away completely.

    Looking back now, I can see where I alienated what would have been some good people in my life, and I was a more difficult employee than I needed to be. On top of this, other people could leverage my middle-finger attitude for their own good, and I made some decisions in my work that I regret now.

    I would have treated a few people differently and handled quite a few situations with more respect if I had recognized that anger could no longer be the driving force in my life sooner than I did.

    None of this is to say that anger is bad or that we should pathologize it or pretend like we don’t get angry. That being said, I don’t know that it’s ever the best option.

    Everything I accomplished was within my grasp the entire time. Anger just gave me the motivation to do it. I wonder what it would have been like to go through college and make all the changes I made without the anger.

    I would have had more friends, and I would not have pushed away some of the people who tried to help and mentor me. God forbid, I might have even enjoyed that time in my life.

    Anger Never Shows Up Alone

    The thing with anger is that it’s a secondary emotion. It never shows up on its own. I tell people that anger carpools, and it’s never the driver.

    Anger is usually our attempt to take a vulnerable emotion and transform it into something a little tougher and more actionable. Things like fear, disappointment, sadness, rejection, and all those other icky, vulnerable emotions leave us feeling helpless.

    Anger, while being destructive, can make us feel empowered and powerful.

    This is especially true for men since we’re not really allowed to experience emotions apart from anger in any real way. I think we’re allowed to laugh at things and people, and we get to cry a little when our dog dies or something, but most of the rest is out of bounds.

    There’s always something under anger. If you can see what emotion you’re actually experiencing, life opens up in a whole new way.

    Looking back, I can recognize that I was anxious and fearful all the time but being angry allowed me to skip over those things and believe I was still in charge of my own life. If I got rejected or felt disappointed, anger would let me blame the situation, not myself.

    I could get lost in complaining about all the things that should have been different or about why the other person sucked instead of allowing myself to feel those things, and maybe change the things about myself that led to them.

    The ego fears change, and anger is a great way to keep us stuck where we are.

    Jettison the Unnecessary

    I don’t get angry a whole lot these days. Don’t get me wrong—it still arises, but I’m pretty good about identifying what’s actually going on and addressing that instead.

    I don’t try to pretend that I don’t have anger, and I definitely don’t suppress it, but I try to allow it to be present without taking over the world. It’s the difference between anger being in the audience and it being the keynote speaker.

    There are a few things that have been more difficult since I’ve started engaging things more honestly. Situations involving conflict or confrontation are a little scarier without my anger.

    It was all definitely easier when I lived in a castle made out of middle fingers, but I’m also able to engage these things in a more honest way and learn from them. A castle protects, but it also isolates.

    I don’t think that I experience more fear or anxiety than I used to, I’m just aware that that’s what I’m experiencing instead of being angry. This has made me a better friend, a better husband, a better father, a better son, and an all-around easier person to deal with.

    I even like myself a little bit these days as well, which is nice.

    Anything we are attached to can become a deadweight if we aren’t willing to cut it loose at the right time. Anger not only has the potential to drag us back down to the earth, but we’ll die in a fiery explosion as well.

    We have to let it go if we want to break the gravity of all the things trying to pull us back down.

  • 20 Journaling Prompts to Help You Love Yourself

    20 Journaling Prompts to Help You Love Yourself

    “Time spent in self-reflection is never wasted—it is an intimate date with yourself.” ~Paul TP Wong

    I’ve found journaling is a polarizing activity. People love it or hate it. (If you are in the latter group, don’t worry, you’ll still get a lot out of this!) Personally, I’ve hit both ends of the spectrum at different points in my life.

    I spent many years in a place of self-loathing. I truly believed I was just not blessed with being born a likable person. And this belief fueled decades of social anxiety, avoiding parties, coming up with lame excuses to leave early, and even being too anxious to call a customer service number to dispute a phone bill!

    I didn’t have the tools at the time to dig into what was really going on inside my head. Like a lot of people, even though I knew the benefits and evidence of journaling, I had plenty of reasons why I never did.

    I told myself I didn’t have the time, that I was too lazy, I was afraid of what I might uncover, and I just didn’t know where to start.

    I didn’t understand what journaling really was.

    Journaling is a self-awareness tool. It’s one of many tools you can use to uncover what you’re really thinking and feeling, or what you really want.

    But you don’t necessarily have to write down the answers. Just like to get healthier, you don’t have to go to the gym three times per week. Sure, it can help get you in shape faster, but you can also park farther away, take the stairs more often, or do a few squats waiting for the microwave to beep.

    There are different paths for different people.

    So don’t fret if you think you need to dedicate an hour a day to writing down your deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings.

    And if you want to do that, more power to you!!

    Why Journaling Helps

    Our swirls of strong emotions tend to consume us. They cloud our vision. They make us behave in ways not in tune with our values. And let’s face it, sometimes they just make us feel like crap.

    Our emotions are the physical and energetic manifestation of our thoughts. They are how we physically experience the thoughts in our heads.

    When the emotion is strong and so loud, it can be hard to hear what thoughts are really driving them. Journaling, especially with prompts, helps to clear through the strong emotions to dig up the stories we’re telling ourselves.

    It helps take all the busyness out of our brains and put them on paper so we don’t have to keep getting exhausted managing the swirl. (Fun fact, thinking literally takes energy and burns calories!)

    And very often, the thoughts that are causing us anxiety, stress, and depression, and leading us to be so hard on ourselves, are mulling around in our subconscious, just below the surface. When they are down there, there isn’t much we can do with them. We need to bring them to the surface in order to see them, question them, challenge them, or change them.

    What Held Me Back the Most from Journaling

    Honestly, the biggest reason I didn’t journal was because I didn’t feel like it. Writing felt like more work than I really wanted to put in.

    The times that I did sit down and write were truly powerful and cathartic. By doing some digging, I was able to uncover the beliefs I held about myself that kept me feeling small. When I put them on paper, looked them in the face, and saw in black and white some of the things I was thinking, sometimes I couldn’t help but laugh.

    But even still, the writing part turned me off most of the time. So I personally switched to doing “mental journaling” more often than not.

    A few weeks ago, a former coworker of mine posted something on Facebook that was similar to something I’d posted. Our former boss (whom I respect very much) “liked” her post and not mine. I went spiraling down a hole thinking “does he like her more than me?”

    By stopping and doing some mental journaling, I was able to realize that I thought I was less “worthy” than my coworker because he “liked” her post. Seriously, I laughed out loud.

    I proceeded to remind myself that my worth is not determined by a Facebook like. But I couldn’t have gotten there if I didn’t stop and do the work.

    If you don’t like writing, you can still gain so much from these prompts.

    That’s what I want you to take away from this: You don’t have to write pen to paper or fingers to keyboard to benefit.

    You can use these prompts to write, or you can use these prompts to think. Sure, you might get more out of it if you dump it all onto paper. But you don’t need to do it that way. Try just thinking about these prompts first if writing isn’t your bag.

    Maybe someday you’ll start writing, but it doesn’t have to be today if you don’t want it to be.

    Three Styles of Journaling Prompts to Help You Love Yourself

    #1 Lists:

    1. Three things you did right this week.

    2. Two flaws you can forgive yourself for.

    3. Five things you are good at.

    4. Three times I was courageous.

    5. Picture someone who you feel judged by and what you feel that person has judged about you. Then write down all the reasons that opinion of you is wrong.

    6. What are two things you need to let go of? (Then picture how you will feel when you let go.)

    7. What are five things your past self would love about your current self?

    #2 Open ended questions and prompts:

    8. Write yourself a permission slip to be imperfect.

    9. Write down something you think you failed at, and what you learned from it.

    10. Write down something your inner critic has said to you and ask, “What is the positive intent behind this?”

    11. What is one thing you want to stop doing, and what is one thing you can do to take a step in that direction?

    12. What is something you are procrastinating on, and how would you motivate yourself if you were a cheerleader?

    13. What is one way you’re being mean to or unfair to yourself, and what would you say to motivate and support yourself with kindness instead?

    14. What is a compliment you received and brushed off because you didn’t feel you deserved it? Now practice fully accepting and appreciating the compliment.

    #3 Fill in the blank “Even though” statements:

    15. Even though I feel ______, I choose to keep working toward feeling ______ by ______.

    16. Even though (person’s name) was ______ to me, I choose to love and accept myself and can show it in action by ______.

    17. Even though ______ seems hard or scary, I know I can do hard things. For example, I’ve ______.

    18. Even though I don’t like ______ about myself, I appreciate how I ______.

    19. Even though I have a hard time accepting ______, I choose to keep working toward acceptance by ______.

    20. Even though I didn’t do ______ perfectly, I choose to learn and grow from the experience. I’ve learned that ______.

    Self-inquiry can be challenging. But whether you put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard or spend some time deep in thought, the journey will bring you closer to the real you. It’s a journey to self-love which is so worth the ride.

  • Why Forgiving Is the Last Step in The Process and What Comes First

    Why Forgiving Is the Last Step in The Process and What Comes First

    “True forgiveness comes when you realize there is something totally radiant inside you, that nobody could ever touch” ~Eckhart Tolle

    I grew up in an emotionally abusive household.

    My father was a man who diligently provided for us, but he left me with scars and shattered self-esteem.

    My mother cooked me my favorite foods and let me sleep in her bed when I was scared, but she attacked my insecurities when I frustrated her. My friends played nasty pranks, but she wiped my tears as we both tried to survive my religious, cult-like school together.

    As a kid, I didn’t have the tools and mental maturity to deal with these complicated emotions. Everything was black and white. I couldn’t understand that people were a big, beautiful, and sometimes toxic mess of gray. After a year-long depression, I discovered the Internet, and I wanted to start healing.

    All the articles suggested forgiving, and I’m glad I ignored that specific piece of advice, because it’s much more complicated than that.

    I decided to focus on healing instead, and a crazy spiral started. There were a lot of extremes, a lot of tears, and a lot of perfectionism. But there were also love and joy, friends, and moments of incredible peace.

    Six years and one day later, I woke up and realized I didn’t obsess about my parents anymore. I could see them as people and forgive them for their cruel actions. I could set boundaries without getting subsumed by a tunnel of rage, and after a nasty fight, I could calm down and let go of any hard feelings.

    How on earth did I manage this?

    Accept the pain.

    Trauma runs deep. There are lasting effects, and we’d be fools to not acknowledge them. Even mental health professionals admit that the goal of recovery isn’t to remove the side effects, but to live in the present without being completely overwhelmed by the past and future.

    And for quite a lot of us, it hurts.

    It hurts for the teenage girl who spent her high school years struggling with depression and eating disorders because her family criticized her weight.

    It hurts for the boy who battled anxiety all his life, and his existing condition was only exacerbated by terrifying bullies and an unstable home environment.

    It hurts for me, a girl who lost years of her childhood to anxiety and fear, and never felt safe around her father.

    For a long time, I kept searching for a path where I could back-pedal. Hold up, let’s forget about the trauma and depression, can I just be a normal kid? Visit friends and insult their slime collection, and laugh about memes, and cry and fall in love? Can my diary be filled with boy-crushes and silly things, instead of obsessive questions begging me, why are you so lazy? Why are you so sad, and depressed, and ugly—

    And that brings me to my next point.

    Don’t get trapped in your abuser’s patterns, and don’t give your power to them.

    At first, I tried to fix myself. I filled pages with goals among goals. Get slimmer thighs. Talk less. Stop forgetting stuff. Stop fidgeting. Stop being lazy. Stop being yourself. Stop. Stop. Stop.

    I was a kid. Your entire world, your survival, depends on two very flawed human beings feeding and clothing and raising you. I thought that maybe if I were better, they’d treat me better.

    But eventually, I stumbled upon an article about abuse. There was this checklist activity, and I checked off twenty bullet points. “Congrats! You’re a survivor…”

    I’m not the problem, I thought, staring at the screen. They’re the problem.

    So, I went down a new road. Instead of trying to fix me, I tried to fix them , and when I inevitably failed, I was angry about the awful way they treated me

    My parents used this rage as another bullet in their gun.

    “Have you ever seen such a rude child?” “F*cking insane” “I’m just trying to speak nicely, stop yelling!”

    And they kept shooting at my heart, every time I said stop.

    “Stop commenting about my ugly skin and my weight. Stop saying I’m a failure, that I’ll never succeed in life. Stop rolling your eyes at me every time I make a mistake, or I forget something.”

    Stop, stop, stop.

    But they wouldn’t stop. Trying to fix them was worse than trying to fix me. Why? Because you can’t find closure from other people. You can’t control their actions.

    After the hundredth argument, I was sitting next to my bed. And then it hit me. They would never look me in the eyes and say, “I’m sorry, I’ll try to change.” Every time I tried to talk about my vulnerabilities, they would rip the wounds open and rub salt and lime into the blood. I would never get the closure I needed from them.

    I sat there for a long time. The tears dried on my face. And then I opened my journal, and wrote, “Dear Diary, I’m so tired…”

    Love yourself during the journey.

    I kept postponing my happiness. I kept waiting for two flawed people, who mentally, emotionally, and sometimes physically abused me, to change so I could finally move on. As a result, I never really tried to heal by myself.

    When I opened that journal, I still operated from the belief “I wasn’t good enough” and I needed to be “better.”

    I tried to have the perfect body. I was terrified to eat carbs and treat myself to a nice meal. I tried to be the perfect artist. At one point I loathed all the writing I’d ever made and threw away entire notebooks.

    It took me a long time to realize, there is no “better.” Are there milestones and visible signs of growth? Absolutely. For as long as I’m a human, I’ll struggle. So, I better start loving the imperfect soul I was given or die in the pursuit of “better.”

    This is why I encourage you to start taking care of yourself. Take the pressure of perfection off your shoulders.

    As an abuse victim, I tried to smash myself into a shape without insecurities so I’d never feel sadness, never cry while sitting on the ceramic toilet ever again.

    The journey is long. I’m still walking it. But every day, there are small opportunities to practice self-love and give yourself rest.

    These days, when I make a mistake, I still berate myself, but there’s a new voice, saying, “Don’t call yourself an idiot.”

    It tells me to go outside and get some fresh air when my brain’s being overloaded by my parents’ screaming voices and the TV fuzz. It tells me, “Things are going to be okay” when I’m recovering from a panic attack. It gives me strength when I want to do nothing more than give up.

    There are loads of ways to build a compassionate inner voice. Journaling, saying kind words to yourself in the mirror, complimenting your work before you attack it for its flaws. It’ll take time. It did for me. But slowly, the critical editor quieted, and I felt better about myself.

    Find an identity outside of your pain.

    This is intricately linked to healing. When I forgave my parents, I hadn’t made the conscious choice to forgive. I had made the conscious choice to heal.

    I wrote short stories, painted my first portrait and just delighted in mixing the colors, and I read blogs and books and laughed. Every day, I woke up and just tried. Sometimes I failed and fell into my spiteful patterns. And other times, I succeeded, and caught the cruel thought in my head, and dismissed it.

    I fed stray cats in my neighborhood. I watched Good Omens and read more Terry Prachett books. I took walks and I improved myself, not from a place of inadequacy, but from a place of kindness and self-love.

    I journaled these experiences, and as I read my previous entries, I realized three things.

    1. I’m not just a survivor.

    2. I’m an artist, a sister, a writer. I’m the girl who plucks dandelions from the grass near the lake and throws shells into the water. I’m the person who keeps my cat from eating plastic wrappers, and who helps my brother with his homework and comforts him when he’s crying. I’m the person who doodles millions of feathers, and faces, and earrings in the margins of her history homework.

    3. The abuse has affected me. It is a part of my life. It bleeds into my work and the themes I communicate.

    My talents and intelligence, they weren’t diminished by the mental abuse. I’m still a radiant person worthy of love and appreciation. These should be obvious concepts, but recognizing these things lifted a load off my shoulders—a load of resentment. And it comforted the deep fear I was never going to be healed. That I was always going to be a little broken, a little empty.

    But when I wrote down all of these experiences, I realized there were vast expanses of my soul my parents could never taint. There’s still pain. I think there’s always going to be pain; it’s a simple fact of life. But now I can comfort myself. I can feel those emotions and move on, without attaching the label “broken.”

    Forgive because you need the space.

    There are still scars. There are always going to be scars. There are always going to be hard emotions and terrible situations, because life is a series of peaks and valleys.

    I forgave them because I didn’t want to keep lugging them around, like a suitcase of rotting garbage. But it was the last step of a long, long process, where I repeatedly had to revisit my trauma, accept hard lessons, and integrate them into my sense of self.

    If I had tried to forgive right from the beginning, it would’ve been a stupid move. I would have constantly justified their sh*ity behavior, since “everyone has flaws, you should forgive and forget so you can maintain a relationship.” And I would’ve never discovered the power of my grief and my rage.

    If I had tried to forgive them during the middle, it would’ve been a false emotion. I would’ve clogged my headspace with my abusers, trying to forgive them for the horrendous things they’d done to me, when I should’ve been devoting that energy to healing.

    Right now, after I did the hard work of healing and gaining distance from my pain, I can forgive them. And when I say I forgive them, I mean I no longer obsess over them. I do get angry. But it’s me setting boundaries and protecting myself instead of my wounded soul lashing out. I may cry during a particularly bad attack of self-doubt, but I no longer waste energy trying to blame them.

    Sometimes, I want to hate them uncontrollably again. My father robbed me of my self-confidence, when he should’ve been building me up. I have this subtle, resigned voice that’s convinced I’ll never amount to anything, and it’s a permanent part of my psyche.

    But forgiveness has opened so much space. Space to process anxiety and tears. Space to fill with love and memories of friends. Space to just exist. And going back to my old ways, where I tried to get them to change, get them to realize how much they hurt me, it feels like putting a noose back on my neck.

    So that’s how I forgave. By healing. By loving myself. By learning how to handle my hard emotions and finding an identity outside my pain.

    Don’t rush yourself to forgive. Society says it’s the right thing to do, be the bigger person. But let me tell you that’s bullsh*t. If you’re just out of an abusive relationship, your version of forgiveness might be constantly excusing their toxic behavior and sacrificing your needs. Heal first. Make art, take baby steps to build healthy relationships, and above all, give yourself time.

    And when it’s the right time, forgiveness will come.

  • How We Can Let People Go When a Relationship Runs Its Course

    How We Can Let People Go When a Relationship Runs Its Course

    “Sometimes it takes relationships that don’t last forever to teach us lessons that will.” ~Unknown

    I recently had to let go of a friendship I had been in for almost eight years.

    In the first few years of knowing each other, we had magnetic pulls. Each time we would arrange to hang out, it was as if time stood still. We talked and shared so much of each other that sometimes five whole hours would pass by as if it had been only minutes.

    We texted each other, sent long emails, and would arrange coffee dates when our lives weren’t so hectic. I looked forward to our exchanges because I always felt uplifted when I left. I would walk away with a new inner growth feeling, and I’m sure she felt the same.

    When our friendship ended, I had to look deep into how we came together. How we became friends was vital because I realized people form bonds over certain aspects of their lives. Those people we gravitate toward are also a reflection of ourselves. We usually have similar habits, patterns, and interests. We wouldn’t be drawn to one another if we didn’t experience similarities.

    I met this particular friend of mine in a healing community. I was in massage therapy school, and I was looking for people interested in being my case study for six weeks. I signed her up and saw her for weekly sessions.

    We bonded over our desire to heal ourselves—both on an outer level, sharing what type of diet cleanses we were experimenting with, and on an inner level, sharing mutual healers and spiritual teachers.

    As we both made personal and spiritual growth progress, we would encourage each other along the way.

    The years passed by, and I started to notice that it was becoming infrequent for us to meet face to face. We became more of a support for each other through just texting. Even the emails dropped off. We lived twenty minutes from each other, yet we struggled to find time to see each other, and when we did, it was usually from my invite.

    I soon noticed more and more distance between us, especially as I entered into a deep space of inner healing. The more inner work I did on myself, the more I could clearly see the aspects of the current relationships in my life. People started to fall away.

    I discovered that as I found my inner strength and the ability to be true to myself, the people with whom I had codependent relationships were no longer interested in what I had to offer.

    My creative gifts were opening up, and I was sharing them. I found this specific friend unable to offer support for my newly found ventures, and she shared critical remarks of what I was doing. She would speak words of upliftment for herself, comparing what she had done to what I was currently doing.

    This behavior of hers was the last red flag I needed from that friendship. I had seen plenty over the last year and a half, so we simply stopped communicating. I’m certain she could sense the falling away of our connection, too. We just really had nothing else in common anymore.

    This experience had me pondering why these endings occur. I wanted to explore the deeper meaning of how people come together and how they fall apart.

    I can guarantee that if you’re human, you’ve encountered these kinds of breakups. They can be sad and painful, especially if we try to cling to them. In my case, I was fully ready to release the friendship. I saw the writing on the wall early on. More than likely, we could have ended it a lot sooner than we did.

    How We Bond

    When we create friendships or romantic relationships, we typically bond over specific aspects of ourselves or our lives. Sometimes those bonds are not formed from a healthy space, yet sometimes they are.

    When we feel a magnetic pull to another person, that energy exchange makes us want to be in their presence more and more. And the more time we are together, the more we see commonalities in our lives and our personalities. We truly become a reflection for one another, both in positive and negative traits.

    Usually, in this grand magnetic charge between two people, we learn lessons from each other to help us grow. Some people say this attraction between two people is there because we have made soul contracts. Sometimes those contracts are short, and other times, they can be lifelong. Looking at it from that perspective can help lessen the pain if a relationship or friendship comes to an end.

    Why the Bond Breaks

    This last year, I found myself in the endings of two soul contracts. One, with my friend I mentioned, and the other was a boyfriend, now an ex. The deep inner work I chose to do is what caused these bonds to fall away.

    I had to look at how we reflected each other and had to look at what we bonded over.

    In the case of my boyfriend, we bonded over the pain of both being divorcees. We bonded over the ways we both felt unsupported and unheard by our spouses. But we also bonded over many similar personality traits. We were complete reflections of each other. We mirrored our wants and needs to nurture a partner, our codependent behavior, and our deeply ingrained manipulations patterns.

    When I finally decided that I needed to change my life, that didn’t work for him. I was ready to let go of all the dysfunction I had been living with, and he was not. I realized we had bonded over extreme dysfunction.

    In the case of my friend, we bonded over personal and spiritual growth. It was a normal, healthy bond. But in hindsight, I can see personality traits we mirrored for one another. We both had issues with speaking up and finding our voices. We both had distrust in sharing ourselves and our gifts with the world. We both had a solid need to be validated by others.

    During my intense year of inner growth, I began to share my creative gifts with others. In doing so, I found I was able to support others to do the same. I no longer needed validation, and I no longer compared what I was doing to what others were doing. I celebrated other people having the courage to share themselves with the world because I was doing the same. The fear that was once there was completely gone.

    Because she had not reached this place for herself yet, she was unable to support me. We were no longer mirrors for one another. We no longer bonded over our inability to speak our Truth.

    Letting Go

    In reaching a place of acceptance and peace over the loss of these two people, I had to see and feel the lessons they taught me. They showed me aspects of myself for a long, long time. And in that seeing, I was able to find within myself why I carried those around and how they served me. Once I saw the patterns for what they were, I let them go.

    Once the patterns were gone, the connections I had with these two people started to unravel. There wasn’t much left. The strong attractions and energy exchanges were gone.

    To say I have gratitude for these two souls is an understatement. They were both profound teachers for me. I loved them both, and I wholeheartedly believe we made soul contracts. I continue to love and honor these people, but from a distance. I no longer have to carry the weight of these bonds, and there is immense freedom in that.

    How You Can Move On

    If you find you are stuck in a place of not letting go of someone, or you are holding onto anger, pain, and sadness over a relationship ending, I encourage you to try the following.

    1. Write down and reflect on what you first bonded over. Don’t skip over this step. You will either see that what you bonded over is no longer serving you, or it was no longer serving the other person.

    2. Write down and reflect on the similar behavior patterns and personality traits you had in common with this person. List both the good and the bad, no matter how painful it appears. Be honest with yourself. In doing this, again, you will see that these patterns are either no longer serving you or the other person.

    3. Write down and reflect on what this person showed and taught you. Even if it was a painful experience, how did they help you to grow? What were you able to walk away with that gave you new insight or meaning into your life?

    As Ram Dass says, “We are all just walking each other home.” His words play out in our daily lives and human connections. The less we cling to endings, the more room we make for new possibilities.

  • Choosing Now to Be Happy: Why the Conditions Are Never Perfect

    Choosing Now to Be Happy: Why the Conditions Are Never Perfect

    “Do you have the patience to wait until your mud settles, and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving until the right action arises by itself?” ~Lao Tzu

    I don’t know why, and I don’t know when it exactly begins, but somehow, we are socialized to believe that happiness depends on the stars aligning, and we subscribe to the notion of a happily-ever-after, whereupon life is supposed to be smooth sailing.

    It sounds ridiculous just saying it out loud, but yes, we do this. I’m guilty.

    If we could only get into this school, have that job, find a partner, have a family, own a house, get a better car, have a different body. It’s usually something beyond our reach—that over there. That’s what we need. That’s what we think would make us happy. Always that, never this. And once we get that, it turns into this, and this is okay for a while, but eventually it isn’t good enough, and we are back to searching for the next shiny thing we are sure will make us happy.

    The problem is we have an insatiable appetite for more. Our desires exponentially multiply, and we become blind to what is right in front of us. We are caught in a cycle of suffering, chasing our tails trying to catch an elusive happiness.

    I remember being in a new relationship, thinking if only I could be married with children, then I would know the happiness I had dreamt about since girlhood. My longing could be cured with an engagement ring and the happily-ever-after many of my peers were already having.

    In marriage and three children later, I still had an empty feeling lingering inside of me. There was a kernel of desire that swelled with each longing, searching for something more.

    Maybe a nicer car or a fancier home would have filled the void and made me happier. I had a laundry list of things I was sure my husband needed to change about himself, which would surely make me happier. There were personal goals to achieve beyond my domestic life. Weight to lose. Always something more. If I could only buy those things, reach those milestones, make those changes, I would finally be happy.

    Then, when my husband unexpectedly died and left me a young widow with small children, I longed for the banality of my married life. I would take it back without hesitation and never complain again, even the silly marital squabbles and socks on the floor. I wanted that, not this.

    In the middle of a pandemic, now a single mom with school-age children and social distancing cutting me off from society, I longed for those other years, even the ones where I was a sad widow who was terribly self-conscious about the life I didn’t choose. At least I could be sad in a gym, or eating in a restaurant, traveling around the world. Now I was stuck at home and lonely. If only I had those pre-pandemic days back, then I could be happy.

    Epicurus said, “Remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” 

    Admittedly, I’ve spent my fair share of time dwelling on what I don’t have. I’ve pined for many things and ignored the dreams that already came true for me.

    I’ve had some good reasons to feel wronged by the universe and to feel robbed of my happily-ever-after. Yet none of that time spent complaining and being angry ever made me happier.

    This is exactly why our happiness should not be conditional. It is impossible to fulfill every desire at every moment. We can not eliminate human suffering, and circumstances are often not within our control. Life happens. If we wait until the conditions are perfect to be happy, we waste precious, limited time.

    On the rare occasion that the stars do perfectly align, the moment will be ephemeral. Life is a shape-shifting, formless experience in a constant state of flow. It is never the same.

    Greek philosopher Herclitus said, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”

    I wholeheartedly agree. I am not the same person I was fresh out of college. I’m not the same woman my late husband married. I’m not the same widow I was five years ago, and I’m not the same person I was before this global pandemic.

    I remember an aunt telling me that she made it her practice to never spend the work week counting the days until Friday. She didn’t want to get caught up with the negativity of constantly watching the clock, living for the weekend while suffering through her job on weekdays.

    “One day I’ll be retired and closer to death, and I’ll want to go back to the days when I could work and still had my youth,” she explained.

    I never forgot that.

    One day this is all going to be over.

    I try to make a conscious effort to be present on my journey, for the good and the bad. It’s easy to identify what we don’t have, but it is transformative to redirect our focus toward what brings us joy, finding the bits of happiness on any given day, no matter our circumstances. Gratitude is embracing happiness in spite of our suffering.

    When life is dumping on you, I know it feels like your pain will be eternal. It can feel hopeless. All of the cliche advice in the world doesn’t help.

    When my husband died, I thought I’d be broken forever. I was overwhelmed, numb with grief, and consumed with anger at the unfairness of my situation. It did not go away in a month, a year, or even a few years. I’m five years away from those darkest days, and sometimes I still feel stung by my broken dreams.

    Yet, I have also had so much good happen in my life since that fateful day. There have been innumerable reasons to smile and enjoy life. When I look back on the past five years, I see myself continuously growing into a better version of who I was. I can be sad about my loss, and also incredibly thankful for my gains.

    My grief helped me understand that the intensity of any feeling does not last. Just as happiness does not continue forever, your suffering won’t either.

    If you don’t believe me, look no further than every historical event in history. World Wars. Economic depressions. Celebrity mishaps that were once fodder for the media, no longer talked about.

    Trying to conceptualize tomorrow during your struggles can feel impossible. We tire ourselves out swimming against riptides. I think in these moments, it is important to give yourself permission to float. The currents won’t always be pushing you in the wrong way. For your own self-preservation, take a deep breath and let yourself float, knowing it won’t last and you’ll find your way again.

    Likewise, when you are fortunate enough to have good times, you should float in those moments too. You should remember that the good times are also fleeting. We have a tendency to want to race off to the next great thing. Enjoy what you have deeply, even the most ordinary moments, because you really don’t know how much they will matter to you in the future.

    When I think about my late husband, I remember the little things. How he used to make me coffee in the mornings. The way he called from the grocery store ten thousand times, asking where he could find items on the shopping list like cumin and flaxseeds, driving me absolutely nuts. Years later, those memories are endearing. I wish I could go back and tell myself to relax. I wish he could call and ask me another stupid question.

    I wonder if it would be easier to cope with suffering if we were socially conditioned to embrace impermanence at a young age—if we were trained to understand it like we are taught to know the invisible force of gravity. Maybe it would have softened the rough edges of being human.

    Today, I try to talk to myself as if I were the younger version of me. I tell myself things like, “This won’t last forever,” “You’ll get through this,” “This too shall pass,” and “You’re strong!”

    When life feels insurmountable, I try to focus on microsteps. I tell myself the things I might say to a child.

    I ask myself: what is the next right step for today?

    On a beautiful, sunny day.

    During a storm.

    No matter what the conditions are, because the conditions are mine. Each day. This is what I have to work with, this is my journey. Now or never.

    It was never supposed to be perfect. If I am committed to maximizing the quality of my life, then I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. So what is that next tiny step?

    Melody Beattie said, “Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

    I remember having a realization after my husband passed away. I had always wanted to be a mother, and I became a mother. But I never thought I would be a single mother—I didn’t ask for that version of motherhood. I felt ashamed of being a single mother.

    I wallowed in a lot of self-pity during those first few years of widowhood, agonizing over my circumstances. Meanwhile, my children kept growing. They were my dreams come true. I had them right in front of me, yet if I spent my days focused on what I had lost, I would lose my chance to enjoy their childhoods. One day they would be grown, and I would be full of regret.

    That’s when I started to embrace it all. The parts I chose, and the ones I didn’t choose. All of it was mine to make meaning out of, to find the joy in, and to be grateful for.

    I think it is important to feel everything—good and bad. It is all a part of your journey. Identify your feelings, but do not get attached to that reality. Circumstances will change. How we feel today is not necessarily how we will feel tomorrow. For me, understanding this was half the battle to cope with personal challenges.

    Mooji said, “Feelings are just visitors, let them come and go.”

    Sometimes a deep breath, a stubborn refusal to give up, and the realization that you have survived 100% of your previous challenges is enough to get us through a difficult time.

    “Life is a tide; float on it. Go down with it and go up with it, but be detached. Then it is not difficult.” – Prem Rawat

    This is it..

  • How I Moved from Depression to a Deep and Meaningful Life

    How I Moved from Depression to a Deep and Meaningful Life

    “Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us.” ~Pema Chödrön

    Standing at the bathroom sink, I brought my gaze up to the mirror. I couldn’t avoid eye contact with the one person I had no desire to talk to. I had questions, and I knew the reflection looking back at me wasn’t capable of giving the answers I needed.

    My solution was a handful of prescription pills to numb my anxiety and Type II Bipolar.

    Every morning I popped a Wellbutrin, Cipralex, Valproic Acid, Lithium, and Adderall. It was the cocktail that got me through the day. It was about the only thing I could stay consistent with in my life. I knew something had to change, but where to start? How do you cultivate a deep and meaningful life?

    My mind and body may as well have lived on different planets. Sure, they shared the same address, but they didn’t know how to communicate. They had no idea how to help each other, or even that they were on the same team.

    At that point in my life, I didn’t understand how my thoughts and feelings could act as a poison to my physical self. Or that my poor habits with diet and drinking were extinguishing any will I had to live.

    And my energy levels were like I had gone on vacation but forgot to turn off the dome light in the car. When I woke up each morning, I could turn the key, but all I’d hear is silence. There was no juice left to get me anywhere.

    My cocktail of pills acted like a jump start to a car with a dead battery. I felt a surge of energy rush through me when it shot into the bloodstream. I’d guzzle a couple of coffees through the day to keep me humming.

    I knew it wasn’t a long-term solution, but it was the first time I felt alive. And for someone who had lost the will to live, pills can often be the first stepping stone to get you back to yourself.

    Imagine yourself walking in darkness without even the glow of the moon to guide you through an unfamiliar forest. Your next step is followed by a crack as the ground underneath you collapses.

    You come to, rub your eyes, blink a couple of times, and find yourself in a blackness that swallows all sense of life. You put your arms out and realize you’ve fallen into a well no wider than a waterslide tunnel. Now imagine hearing a voice echo off the walls that asks you, “Why do you think you’re sad?”

    That’s what depression feels like. Pills, for me, were a rope to help me climb up. But I still needed more to help me find the light once I emerged back into the darkness of night.

    That second stepping stone to a deep and meaningful life is getting support. I had entered therapy before I was prescribed medication, but it wasn’t until I had medication that I could hear what my therapist was asking.

    Therapy was like a first date for my mind and body. And like all great partnerships, they come together to create something more than they are separate.

    During therapy I recognized that my life had felt numb and disconnected from reality for years. I also realized that I had been lying to myself, keeping myself stuck with negative thoughts and beliefs about who I was and what I was (or wasn’t) capable of doing with my life. My therapist helped me unpack what was keeping me stuck and empty. This helped me uncover what I was in search of—a mind-body connection, which reunited me with my soul.

    When people talk about purpose, meaning, and fulfillment, this is language that can only come from deep within the fire of your soul. A person disconnected from their soul has no will to live, they simply exist. They’re carried in and out of shore like a piece of driftwood caught in a tide.

    The third stepping stone is to begin cultivating a deep life. I borrowed this idea from author Cal Newport. He describes it like so: “The deep life is about focusing with energetic intention on things that really matter—in work, at home, and in your soul—and not wasting too much attention on things that don’t.”

    Newport breaks it down into four areas. These areas feed your sense of purpose, meaning, and fulfillment. They are foundational for living a deep life:

    1. Community (family, friends, etc.)

    We all need to feel a sense of belonging. We need to feel we’re valued, needed, included, and supported. And we need to feel comfortable showing our true selves so we can connect on a deep, intimate level.

    To deepen my sense of community, I leaned into my family and friends. I stopped seeing my struggles as a secret and shared what I was going through so my loved ones could support me. I joined a mental-health community group which let me see that others were going through similar experiences.

    2. Craft (work and quality leisure)

    We need to commit ourselves to something bigger than ourselves—a career path or hobby that provides an outlet for self-expression and contribution to the world.

    I started a daily writing habit. It allows me to make sense of the often-chaotic nature of my mind. And it’s given me the opportunity to share my experience with others.

    3. Constitution (a person’s physical state with regard to vitality, health, and strength)

    This is an area we often pass off as something we’ll do “if I have time.” But really, that’s like saying you don’t have time to stop for gas when you’re driving your car on empty. The further you go without filling up, the more likely you’ll feel stressed, burned out, and unable to cope with everything you’re juggling right now.

    I have adopted a belief that nothing I want to accomplish with my life is possible without making health a priority. It has become one of my keystone habits in life. Every day I will move my body with yoga and exercise, as I’ve recognized this is my fuel for living.

    4. Contemplation (matters of the soul)

    This will likely involve doing more of something that enables you to connect with your soul, like sitting in nature or journaling, and also doing less of the things that disconnect you from yourself, like distracting yourself with screens.

    I adopted a meditation practice, which has been an anchor to my sense of self and a connection to the world. I removed myself from social media and now, instead, fill my time reading books.

    Many of us speak of how important these areas are to each of us but get swept away by the urgency of others’ needs and requests when it comes to making them a priority. I found this to be a daily battle that consumed me. Was I living the life I wanted, or was I living the life others expected of me? It made it clear that a deep life is not your default life. A shallow life is your default life.

    I wasn’t happy or fulfilled because a majority of the things I was doing, I did for others. At the time, I didn’t understand that our sense of fulfillment comes from working on things that really matter to us, and that boils down to an intentional use of our time and energy.

    My living room and dining room are adorned with plants. It’s a hell of a lot tougher than I thought to keep them alive. Some need daily watering, where others don’t want a drip until they’re bone dry.

    I don’t want my plants to survive, I want them to thrive. I want the plants to flourish, and that requires daily intention. My only action might be to a put finger into the soil, but that check-in gives me feedback on how it’s doing.

    Community, craft, constitution, and contemplation are living, breathing reflections of your life choices. They require a similar approach to caring for plants. They won’t tell you when they’re thirsty, you have to anticipate their needs and nurture their growth if you hope to enjoy the benefits of a deep life.

    I sit down for a weekly check-in with myself so that I never go too long between waterings. I ask myself, what is the most neglected important area of my life? And what will I do about it? This gives me the power of awareness. A chance to understand why I feel the way I do and what I can do to improve it.

    The deep life isn’t a snake oil solution to the challenges of mental illness. It’s what gives you unshakeable direction when your life feels like it’s falling apart. It’s what keeps you on the straight and narrow when life feels impossible. And it’s the reflection your soul needs because it gives you a why to stay alive and keep going.

    As author Francis Chan said, “Our greatest fear should not be failure but succeeding at things in life that don’t really matter.”

    You matter. Your life matters. And you deserve to have a rich and fulfilling life.

  • The Freedom of Being Ourselves (Whether Others Like Us or Not)

    The Freedom of Being Ourselves (Whether Others Like Us or Not)

    “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.” ~Oscar Wilde

    “Cringey” is what my kids called it. Me? I was just being Sam.

    After hitting “post” on my highly emotive Instagram video—one of those more-than-one-minute jobbies that winds up on Instagram TV—I closed the app and had a brief moment of panic. Maybe I said too much? Maybe I screwed myself by being too honest? Too open? Too… vulnerable?

    A few hours after sharing that five-minute, tear-filled video on not giving up on our dreams, I still didn’t have the courage to log back in to see how many followers I’d lost. Or to even delete the thing, because that would also require logging back in. I pressed on with my day and chastised myself for this classic case of Sam Oversharing.

    Dammit. When will I learn?

    To combat my feelings of anxiety, I usually resort to hitting the trails. The very act of putting one foot in front of the other soothes my worrying soul, infusing me with renewed perspective. So that’s what I did, the day I thought I shared too much: I went for a walk.

    And as is often the case, I began to see things a little more clearly after asking myself three questions:

    1. What were my intentions in sharing the video?

    2. Did I have something insightful and authentic to offer?

    3. Why did it matter what anyone else thought?

    Let me break it down for you, because I had an epiphany that seems so on the nose, I’m almost embarrassed to write about it. How could it not be more obvious?

    The answer to those three questions all circled back to one simple truth: I was just being myself. That’s it. 

    In the process of being ourselves, we let others see us for who we really are. Turns out, I’m an over-sharing, comfortable-with-vulnerability, sometimes dramatic, heart-on-sleeve gal, fraught with insecurities and rich in idiosyncrasies.

    I eat way too many chips, talk openly about my hormones and hairy legs, and appear to care deeply about the validation of others. It’s nice to meet you.

    Look, it isn’t the first time I’ve put myself and all my weirdness on display. I’ve a long history of posting about my Gong Show life and subsequently surviving the fallout.

    That time I was trapped in my new boots at the Toronto airport, yanking on a broken zipper while holding up the line as exasperated travelers sought to help pull them off. I wrote about it.

    That time I thought the dog was missing but had merely forgotten him in the car after he accompanied me on a midnight procurement trip for junk food. Shared it.

    Or when I left my sixteen-year career in finance. I wrote a short novel for that Facebook status, carefully crafting the narrative in case anyone decided to judge me for starting fresh.

    Other times, I’ve taken to the socials to passionately air my opinion on topics near and dear, like shaming the local news media for missing a triumphant story of international competitive success with my kids’ gymnastics team. Turns out, there was something printed after all, I just didn’t see it. So, let’s add “impulsive” to the list of adjectives defining me, and “one who doesn’t always do her homework.”

    My point is this: I’ve come to the conclusion that instead of wincing every time I share something, or show how I actually feel, I’m going to embrace it. I am who I am, and if it makes you uncomfortable, then you can move on. No hard feelings. 

    Since accepting that my unfiltered ways are simply me, I’ve felt unsurpassed freedom. If I get to be me, and it turns out that you like me, well, alright then! If I get to be me, but you shuffle along, that’s cool, too. The people who understand me are the people who are still here. I don’t need everyone and their damn dog to like me. I’ve been there, tried to do that, and it’s exhausting.

    But if we aren’t hurting anyone in our quests to truly be ourselves, why aren’t more people living this way? Maybe it’s because we assume that being ourselves just doesn’t cut the mustard. We’ve been conditioned to believe we aren’t shiny enough, young enough, rich enough, educated enough, or informed enough to exist in today’s performative world.

    And I’m tired of it, quite frankly.

    Part of the reason I left my career last January was this deep yearning I felt to live unapologetically. As myself.

    Although much of my time as a financial advisor was rewarding, I often felt stifled, required to behave as a version of myself that didn’t line up. I had to shove the real Sam back inside myself. Keep a lid on her. Keep her quiet for compliance and reputational reasons. I maintained this through all of my thirties and half my forties until I nearly broke.

    Over this last year, however, I’ve discovered a tremendous shift in what matters to me. Now unencumbered, I’m exploring my true self without any muzzle or handcuffs.

    If I want to submit a piece I’ve written and say how I really feel, I’m going to do that. Because I can. If I want to dive deep into my creativity to see where it leads, I will.

    For me, the pandemic has also illuminated some habits that were inadvertently hurting me. Being stuck at home has shown me that I’m actually quite introverted. I enjoy time to myself and often find it challenging to give my energy to people outside my family. This is just the truth. Pre-pandemic, however, I’d say YES to almost any invitation because my boundaries around my own mental health were not prioritized over the feelings of others.

    Now, if I don’t feel like Zoom-zoom-zooming, I’m more empowered to just say it like it is. “You know what? Not feeling it today. Still love you, but no. I’ve got a date with Netflix and a bowl of Tostitos. Let’s talk next weekend.”

    I used to view this as selfish. But what I’ve learned is I’m not doing anyone any favors if I show up cranky for something I really don’t want to be at. Because I’m a terrible faker—let’s add that to the list of why I am the way I am.

    I’ve also discovered that I am legit a wandering soul. I know this for sure, because the travel embargo has wreaked havoc with my natural tendency to hit the road. And I will no longer apologize for this passion of mine. Yes, I’m grateful for all the blessings and beauty of my own backyard, but you know what? I’m allowed to miss the wider world. It’s part of what makes me me, and I will no longer water it down.

    Because I don’t want to be an actress. Contrary to the world we live in, where every dish we eat, trip we take (okay, the ones we used to take), outfit we assemble, animal we groom, it’s all up for display, but we showcase only the best versions of our lives.

    We don’t want people to see behind the curtains… The dirty dishes strewn everywhere (check). The dental floss we tossed on the floor instead of in the garbage (check). The bottom half of our attire (long undies with holes in them). We take great pains to ensure that how we represent ourselves is attractive, enviable, and meeting a standard that says we have it all together.

    The thing is, I’ve decided wholeheartedly to embrace my obvious not having it all together. See, I know the truth—nobody has it all together. The second I accepted this universal tenet I became far more comfortable just being me. 

    And that has led to a feeling of freedom I’m just now starting to taste.

    I believe this is what everyone wants: freedom. If we are privileged to live in a world where we can show up as ourselves, that is a gift. For sure, not everyone has access to it. Some live in a world where they must hide their beliefs, their gender identities, dilute their dreams or worse, battle through atrocities the likes of which we have nary a concept.

    So, if we are lucky enough to live in a society where we can show up as ourselves so long as we aren’t hurting others, shouldn’t we be rushing to do so? Isn’t it our duty to interact with people in a richer, more authentic, more emboldened way? Aren’t you tired of trying to be someone else?

    It’s not that I don’t value growth. As long as we’re human, we will always strive for improvement. But there isn’t anyone else in the whole wide world like us. Everyone else is already taken. Therein is our own version of a superpower: an essence of what we can contribute because we are ourselves, not in spite of it.

  • To All the Abused Kids Who Are Dealing with the Consequences as Adults…

    To All the Abused Kids Who Are Dealing with the Consequences as Adults…

    “The feeling of being rejected, disapproved of, or conditionally loved by one’s primary caregivers is a monumental, long-lasting burden for a child to carry. It produces chronic shame, guilt, and anxiety. The child is blamed for doing something wrong and in doing so learns to perceive themselves as being bad.” ~Darius Cikanavicius, Human Development and Trauma: How Childhood Shapes Us into Who We Are as Adults

    You’re safe now, but you weren’t before.

    Before you were abused.

    If your experiences were anything like mine, you were told that you were worthless on a daily basis, that your feelings and needs didn’t matter, and that you would never be deserving or worthy of love.

    Your lived experiences were denied, and you questioned your reality.

    Your needs and wants were never met, and you learned that in order to stay safe, you had to put others’ needs before your own.

    When conflicts arose with others, you blamed yourself because the people around you always did. I still struggle with this even now.

    You were taught that you were not enough. That you had to please others in order to be somewhat worthy for a fleeting moment.

    You lived on high alert, bracing yourself for the next insult, anticipating being devalued and demeaned. There was little rest from it, so you learned to be silent. You suppressed your feelings and needs, knowing they wouldn’t be honored, and you hid parts of your personality because you knew you would never be accepted for who you are.

    You were complicit in your own suppression, and you became unaware of your own wants, desires, and even feelings. Your selfhood was stripped away.

    You were told you were too sensitive, too needy, too emotional, and that you didn’t see or perceive situations accurately. You were told you were dumb, too fat, too thin, and/or too self-absorbed.

    When you tried to stand up for yourself, you were told that you were not living in the real world. That everything that was happening to you was your fault.

    Standing up for yourself was dangerous, and you were led to believe that you didn’t have that right.

    This unsafe environment was where you grew up. It was where I grew up too. Where your first memories were formed and where you learned about yourself and the world through your parents’ actions and responses.

    You carried your pain silently as a child and were groomed to accept abuse.

    Your abusers told you it was love—that they treated you that way so that you would become a better person. Yet, in reality, this just made you easier to control and manipulate. With no sense of self or personal value you could be defined in any manner, and you’d blindly accept that definition.

    They told you that you were incompetent, and you didn’t question it because you had been taught that others’ opinions had value and yours did not. Therefore, any statement made by your abusers had to be true.

    You were taught that you were bad. All of your actions, thoughts, and behaviors were wrong, and you were fundamentally unworthy.

    If you were fortunate, as you grew, so did your awareness of your situation, and you began to break free. You cut the toxic ties of your childhood and began to cultivate a sense of self-worth.

    Perhaps you did what no one should have to do: cut off your parents or primary caregivers. You are safe now, but a part of you still struggles to recognize that.

    If your experiences of formative abuse were at all like mine, you know how hard it was to break free and unlearn what you were taught about yourself and the world.

    It’s easy for others to take advantage of you and abuse you because of your experiences growing up and your low self-worth. For me, this manifested in one-sided friendships in which I would give and give and receive very little in return.

    Abuse is so normal to you that you find yourself drawn to it as if it’s home.

    You now find yourself being abused in romantic relationships, in friendships, and in your place of employment.

    I had romantic partners who told me I was ugly, that they were only with me out of convenience. I had friends who told me how flawed I was and how lucky I was to have their crumbs of friendship.

    It feels so normal, so natural, so much like what you were used to. Yet it shouldn’t be!

    You wonder why you wind up in these situations, why you don’t see them for what they are, and why you cannot seem to break free of this vicious cycle.

    On some level you know these relationships and situations are abusive and unhealthy, but because you were never taught to trust yourself and your instincts were disarmed, you question your reality and even deny it.

    Even now I have to make a conscious effort to recognize the signs of unhealthy relationships, and I have had to learn that being seen, feeling supported, and being truly cared for are normal aspects of a healthy relationship.

    When others show you kindness and attention you feel undeserving, and you even question their motives.

    You slinker out of the spotlight because when you were in the spotlight before, you were ridiculed and abused.

    You shrug off compliments, diminisher accomplishments, and let others take the lead.

    You fear speaking up for yourself or offending anyone. People-pleasing is a way for you to get recognition and love, so you go out of your way to do what you can for others, even at your own detriment.

    When you’re wronged and hurt, you accept the abuse, even now, and you take full responsibility for others’ actions even when they are in the wrong.

    I have taken responsibility for my friends’ poor treatment of staff at a restaurant, and even my partner’s sexist, racist comments. I shouldn’t have taken responsibility for any of this.

    If you’ve done all these things as well, know that none of this is your fault.

    The past you fought so courageously to overcome whispers in your ear even in the present. You tell yourself that you’re fine and you’ve grown, but the past haunts you when you least expect it.

    For me, the past rears its ugly head in the face of success, when I’m consistently being treated well by others, or whenever I accomplish more than I had originally expected to. It’s as if the past me struggles to allow the me in the present to feel confident, accomplished, and happy.

    Because you grew up on high alert anticipating abuse, you question and analyze others’ actions. You find yourself asking, “Do they really care about me? Have they given up on me? Is there something they are not telling me?”

    You want to trust others, but you don’t know how. You want to be loved, but you were never taught what love feels like.

    In social situations your emotional energy is consumed by protecting yourself and anticipating threats that are no longer real. You overreact to being teased, and you never allow yourself to talk too much because you feel unworthy of being the center of attention.

    You were taught that others are more important than you, so you hold back when you have something important to say.

    Because of my past I used to withdraw from social situations. I had very few friends and would pull away from people out of fear of being discarded. It has taken me years to learn that I am worthy of friendship, and I now have supportive networks of friends in my neighborhood, at work, and at school for the first time in my life.

    Trusting that others have your best interests at heart is extremely difficult for you, but again, this is not your fault. The people that should have supported and protected you when you were growing up, were out to destroy you.

    When you sense you are being rejected, you overreact and reject the other person first.

    When you sense that you are being excluded, you exclude yourself before others can.

    In disagreements, you don’t stand up for yourself and instead give in because you were taught that standing up for yourself creates drama, and you are not worthy of being validated.

    You are overly accommodating, and you compromise even when you shouldn’t. I am only just now learning to take the lead at work and to voice my opinions with confidence.

    None of what happened to you was your fault, but now you must learn how to let go of these maladaptive coping mechanisms.

    Now you need to learn that you have a right to boundaries, that you have a right to be treated fairly and respectfully, and that your feelings and needs are valid. I know this will take time; it has taken me many years.

    In emotional situations you need to learn not to react impulsively, but to step back and ask yourself, is the perceived threat real, or am I reacting based on how I was treated in the past?

    You need to surround yourself with people who see your value and accept you for who you are, because this is what healthy relationship looks like. Stop making excuses for others’ ill treatment of you and remember that you don’t need to take responsibility for their toxic behavior. That is for them to own, not for you.

    In social situations you need to learn to take compliments and claim the spotlight when you have something interesting or valuable to say. You deserve to be seen and heard, and you no longer have to suppress or edit yourself.

    Go out of your way to do things that help you affirm your self-worth and value. Make lists of all of your good qualities and all of the things that you have accomplished. You have a right feel proud of what you’ve achieved and where you are in life.

    You were never told that you were loved, that you were smart, or that your needs mattered. Now you must learn how to love yourself and find ways to affirm your own needs and desires.

    Tell yourself I am worthy, I deserve to be loved, happy, and respected. Tell yourself I am safe now.

  • When You Keep Failing: How to Recover and Boost Your Confidence

    When You Keep Failing: How to Recover and Boost Your Confidence

    “Success is a series of small wins.” ~Unknown

    You tried everything. Nothing worked. What now?

    I was the Marketing Director of a tech startup, and my work wasn’t bringing in the money or traction that it should. I did everything to improve my results: I read more books, consulted mentors, changed my mindset and tactics, did more field research and experiments, consulted even more books and mentors.

    I won’t go into specifics, as that’s not what this article is about. But suffice to say that I did my best to learn from every book, mentor, experiment, and mistake. And I executed all the best practices. But after months of fruitless efforts, the CEO finally let me go. I didn’t contest it. Even I would’ve resigned out of shame for my results.

    I went back to freelancing. After two months of rejected or ignored client pitches, I updated my profile on job search sites. Four months later, I was broke and still unemployed. One more month and my landlady would kick me out.

    I remember one night, after another day of sending out client proposals, job applications, and going door-to-door to different shops in various neighborhoods to offer my services (and getting rushed out of each), I passed a group of college girls wearing preppy summer dresses. They looked young, carefree, on top of the world. I was the exact opposite: bent, worried, defeated, alone.

    I went home, ate some muesli with milk, and poured my feelings on an article. It was the only form of self-comfort I could afford.

    At that point, I’ve been losing and failing consistently for more than half a year. I’ve searched things like, “How to fix a failed career” or “How to rebound from failure” or “How to get back up when life kicks you the f**k down.” With plenty of other variations.

    And this is going to sound very biased, but I read almost every article that those search queries produced, and I executed almost all of their tips. Yet, nothing worked.

    I was hit by the sobering reality that it’s very possible to consistently do your best, to work so damn hard, to put your soul into something, and fail.

    When you’re stuck and you feel like failing has become your “new normal,”  how do you recover and get back up?

    Remind yourself what winning feels like.

    I ran a 12-kilometer mountain race  once. It was my first 12K run and my first mountain race. I didn’t know if I could do it. I was unfit and overweight at the time.

    During the first five or so kilometers, I was wheezing and ready to give up. But as I kept going, I started to feel better. My steps flew faster. And I finished the race among the top twenty.

    There was a moment in the race where I ran an uphill climb. My lungs and legs felt great, and I kept overtaking other runners. Eventually, I passed all other runners in sight and I was running the trail alone.

    On top of the climb, there is a clearing. I reached the mountain’s peak and, below me, blades of tall, soft Tiger Grass danced with the breeze. The sun was rising. Rays of light glinted across the swaying field, iridescent. The wind blew. I stared into the horizon and the word “triumph” flashed in my head.

    Time passed and I eventually forgot that memory as I got immersed in my work. But it resurfaced one night, as I ate muesli with milk alone in the gloom of my apartment.

    We all need to remind ourselves what winning feels like sometimes.

    See, you can’t go to a job interview or a client presentation feeling like a loser. It would reflect in your body language, vibe, and energy. Soon, you’ll walk, talk, and think like a loser. Even when you’re doing your best.

    So you need to break out of that. And my experience taught me that the best way to do this is to give yourself small victories.

    Ideally, you can gain those small wins in the field you’re pursuing. Let’s say you’re trying to get big-brand clients for your business. If you achieved a few promising meetings, then it’s great.

    But what if you can’t get anything in the field you want? Like me, with my consistently rejected or ignored client proposals and job applications?

    In my case, the memory of that 12K triumph was the first step. If I couldn’t get a small victory where I wanted it, then I can get it somewhere else.

    So I ran. Three to four times a week. And with every run, I’d give myself a goal: Maybe finish a difficult 10K route in one hour, or run a pace of six to seven minutes-per-kilometer for three hours, etc.

    Every time I achieved my goal, I was gaining small victories. Sure, achieving those victories didn’t directly get me a client or a job. But it reminded me of what it feels like to win. Bit by bit, it rebuilt my confidence and energy.

    Small victories aren’t empty words of encouragement. They’re real. And they helped me believe that I can achieve things again.

    How to Get Back Up After Continued Failure

    1. Accept that it’s possible to fail even when you’re doing your best.

    This was the biggest shocker to me. I always believed that if I did my best, I’d get what I want.

    So when all my attempts at the tech startup, at getting clients or work failed, I started to seriously doubt myself. Maybe all my ideas suck? Maybe what I’m doing is all wrong?

    Maybe I have the Midas touch, but reversed; everything I worked on turned into stone, not gold.

    Yes, there’s likely something wrong with my mindset, or how I executed things, or the kind of solutions I came up with. And I needed to change and adjust.

    But I had to accept that, sometimes, we don’t control everything.

    Years later, as I looked back on my tech startup failure, I realized that there were external factors I couldn’t do much about; accessibility of certain technologies, governmental policy norms, the readiness of the target market, and so forth. It was also the first startup I worked with. I had to constantly adjust and make my own solutions. No wonder I failed.

    Likewise, I was able to defeat the thing that kept me from getting jobs or clients: My stubborn pride. Before the tech startup, I worked almost-exclusively with big-brand clients. I was young, ambitious, and making a lot of money. Why should I apply for anything less? So I pitched only to the biggest clients and applied only to the highest paying jobs.

    When the reality of losing my apartment finally kicked me in the head, it was too late. Thankfully, the piece I wrote when I passed those college girls in their preppy summer dresses, was published by a national paper. And several kind-hearted business owners who read it gave me work (bless them forever). So I survived.

    2. Achieve small victories where you can.

    When you’re aiming for small victories, aim to win against yourself, not other people.

    In this context, don’t feed yourself feelings of victory by winning against others. First, it’s unsustainable. Second, it won’t build the confidence you need.

    Bottom line: Achieve small wins from self-imposed goals that are purely for you and about you. No other people in the picture. No trying to win someone else’s approval. And don’t go for outcomes you don’t control.

    I’m currently writing my first novel. I’ve worked on it almost every day, for two to four hours a day, in the past seven months. So far, I’ve written and thrown away three drafts. I’m on my fourth draft, and I might throw it away too. I feel like a failure for not completing what I set out to do.

    So I’m gaining small victories on Medium. I’ve started blogging this January, and I’ve committed to publishing a minimum of two articles a month while working on my novel and my client work.

    Whenever I publish a full article, I feel good about myself. Sure, maybe no one would read my posts or engage with them (aside from a few supportive friends). But I’ve achieved my goal, and this small victory keeps me going.

    If you’re reading this now, maybe you’re in the same phase in life. With that, I sincerely encourage you to gain small wins. Start small and grow your victories from there. I genuinely wish you all the best. Keep strong! Triumph!

  • How to Embrace Your Physical ‘Flaws’ and Feel Comfortable in Your Skin

    How to Embrace Your Physical ‘Flaws’ and Feel Comfortable in Your Skin

    “When you’re comfortable in your skin, you look beautiful, regardless of any flaws.” ~Emily Deschanel

    I started doubting the way I looked at the age of eight following comments from other children, about my twin sister being cuter/prettier than me. During adolescence I suffered from bullying because of my appearance and thought I was ugly. Like many others, I believed for many years that everything would’ve been easier if I was better-looking.

    At eighteen, when I left home for military service (mandatory in Israel), I started to get positive feedback from men and to feel much better about the way I looked. But still, for many years after there was a big gap between my self-perception and how others saw me.

    Today, at fifty-one, even though I’m far from perfect-looking, I have finally come to terms with my appearance.

    In my work, I encounter many women, some traditionally beautiful, others with a pleasant appearance and charm, who feel that due to the way they look, there’s no chance that somebody would want them. And I know children and teenagers who think that something is wrong with them and who feel ashamed of themselves because they don’t look like models.

    Accepting how we look really comes down to developing self-esteem and self-love. Nonetheless, today I want to present to you ten steps that can create a shift in your relationship with your appearance and your body.

    1. Clean your social media feeds of anything that makes you feel bad about yourself and your body.

    Every time you scroll through social media and come across images or ideas that make you feel bad about your life or the way you look, stop following that person or page.

    You may tell yourself that certain content motivates you to change, but you can’t effectively create change from a place of self-condemnation, jealousy, or fear. So if you choose to follow someone, make sure their content genuinely inspires you and helps you feel better about yourself, not worse.

    2. Don’t try to force yourself to love a body part you don’t like.

    I know I might be breaking a myth here, but you don’t need to love each and every part of your body in order to love yourself.

    Trying to force yourself into loving a body part that troubles you might do more harm than good, as it consumes vital energy and evokes harmful self-judgment if you fail.

    If you don’t like the look of a particular part, you can still focus on its good qualities, like its strength, function, or the pleasure it can give you.

    For example, the breasts you judge as too small might produce all the milk needed for your baby. And those legs that seem too big to you might enable you to hike and enjoy nature.

    3. Think of people you love and appreciate who do not have a perfect look.

    I know it’s hard to stop believing that attractiveness is the key to happiness. That’s why I don’t expect that this step and the following one will radically change your self-perception. Nevertheless, I think it’s important to use them as a reality check from time to time.

    Start by creating a list of at least five people you love, appreciate, or look up to, who do not have a perfect look, yet you still find beautiful, charming, or attractive.

    Now think of what makes these people attractive to you.

    I bet that what you most like about them is their heart and personality, something we often forget to take into account when we are so absorbed in our shortcomings.

    I remember that my mother used to look at me with admiration and say how beautiful I was. But since I didn’t think I was beautiful, it used to annoy me.

    Now that my beloved nephew is a teenager, I find myself looking at him in this way. While he inspects his looks with critical eyes and mostly finds faults, I see a handsome young man with the biggest heart I ever saw, exceptional wisdom, and a unique personality, and he takes my breath away.

    4. Think of people who don’t look perfect, who are in happy relationships.

    If you insist that a worthy person would want you “if only…” (you had bigger breasts, blonde hair, or you weighed three pounds less or were four inches taller), think of people you know who are in happy relationships with great people, despite not having what you would consider perfect looks.

    Create a list of five or more such people to remind yourself that someone out there would find you perfect just as you are.

    Recognizing that you don’t need to look perfect to be lovable can help you accept yourself and stop wasting energy obsessing over your appearance.

    5. Nourish your body with things that are good for it and things you find satisfying.

    On the journey to loving ourselves and our bodies, people often suggest we nourish our bodies with healthy foods only.

    Though I largely agree, it’s easy to become obsessive and hate yourself every time you eat something that is considered unhealthy.

    Twenty-eight years ago, when freeing myself from an eating disorder, I integrated into my daily diet the foods that drove me to binge eat, and now I no longer feel the need to overeat them.

    This way, I eat in a more balanced way, experience greater enjoyment, and eliminate guilty feelings.

    And the happiest result of this decision is that it enabled me to lose the extra weight I was carrying and to gain complete freedom from obsessing over food and weight—which means I now feel far more comfortable in my own skin.

    6. Don’t force yourself to do mirror work.

    Another common recommendation that I personally find ineffective is to do what’s called “mirror work.”  That is, to stand in front of the mirror and praise your body.

    If there are body parts that you don’t like, and you feel down every time you see them in the mirror, instead of inspecting them closely from the least flattering angles, look at your body in dim lighting. This will allow you to enjoy the way you look without seeing all the minor flaws that no one but you sees anyway.

    If mirror work does work for you, that’s great. But if you are like me, be good to yourself and abandon it.

    7. Maintain a strong and healthy body.

    Love for our bodies stems not only from liking the way we look but also from feeling healthy and strong and being able to enjoy our bodies’ capabilities.

    I, for instance, am really proud of my body, which today is stronger than ever.

    The best thing Covid did for me is force me to quit the gym. I’ve started practicing yoga at home, and today I’m able to take much more advanced classes than I did a year ago. Recently I started running on the beach as well, and a few days ago I completed my first six-mile run!

    To maintain a strong and healthy body, incorporate physical activity into your daily routine. It may be exercising, dancing, running, walking, or hiking in nature. And if you don’t find any activity that you enjoy, focus on the good feeling your chosen activity provides.

    8. Stop talking to and about yourself in an offensive way.

    Statements like “no normal man would ever want someone with hips like mine” are not only detached from reality but also extremely offensive toward oneself.

    If you already completed step four (noting people who do not look perfect yet are in happy relationships), you must have realized that many worthy people choose imperfect-looking partners because of who they are, which is far more important than a perfect look!

    So talk to (and about) yourself as you’d talk to someone you love, not from a place of self-loathing. You don’t have to say that the part you don’t like is attractive, but if you stop condemning it, your feelings about it may start to change.

    Also, notice when you’re tempted to talk about your physical flaws with other people. The more you focus on your perceived shortcomings, the more you’ll obsess over them, and the less energy you’ll have to focus on the many beautiful things about you that have nothing to do with your looks.

    9. Set your boundaries with people who make you feel bad about your body.

    It’s important to spend time with people who love your body just as it is.

    If you are in a relationship with someone who keeps putting you down for your looks, don’t downplay or justify it.

    You may tell yourself that they’re just being honest, but you don’t have to be perfect for someone to love you, and no one who truly loves you would ever judge you for your looks or talk down to you.

    Even if they say they’re simply encouraging you to take care of your health, you don’t need to tolerate cruel comments about your appearance or constant reminders that you better not eat so much.

    If anyone around you comments on your looks, learn how to set your boundaries with them. Tell them you’re not comfortable discussing your appearance with them and therefore not going to participate in such a conversion anymore, or physically remove yourself from the situation when they start putting you down.

    10. Practice meditation!

    At the end of the day, whether we’re talking about happiness, self-love, or body-acceptance, I recommend practicing meditation (or more accurately, practicing the ability to be present in the moment).

    It’s only when we are present here and now that we can clearly see the reality that is in front of us, instead of the distorted reality created by our minds, and feel who we truly are—not just a body but a heart and soul.

    When we’re present, we’re simply in our bodies instead of judging them, and thus we’re automatically in a state of self-acceptance. Then our true beauty naturally shines through.

  • How a Cancer Misdiagnosis Helped Me Face and Heal from Health Anxiety

    How a Cancer Misdiagnosis Helped Me Face and Heal from Health Anxiety

    “Trust yourself. You’ve survived a lot, and you’ll survive whatever is coming.” ~Robert Tew

    “I have bad news. I am sorry. You have cancer.”

    Sitting in the cold, clinical doctor’s office on a snowy, cloudy January day in Chicago, I was six months postpartum with my daughter, and I felt like I had woken up in a nightmare.

    My husband had gone to work that day when I was supposed to have my stitches removed after the laparoscopic surgery to remove a large cyst, so I was alone with my daughter.

    When Dr. Foley entered the room, I took one look at his face and knew something was wrong.

    “Are you sure,” I asked? My daughter was munching away on her Sophie Giraffe in her stroller next to me.

    “Yes, I am sure. I am so sorry.”

    I started to cry. The first thing I said was “I knew I didn’t deserve a good life.”

    “What did you say?”

    “Nothing, it doesn’t matter now.”

    He told me it was stage 1 ovarian cancer. That I would be okay. He told me I might need chemo and to have my ovaries removed, and I may not be able to have any more children. He then referred me to a gynecological specialist. I waited to see her for three weeks.

    My mom flew out to help me. My husband accompanied me to my appointment with the gynecologic oncologist. The office was bleak. The women in the sitting room showed me my future.

    When it was my turn for the appointment, the nurse came in with the doctor. They were pleasant and made chit chat. I could not tolerate their light-heartedness for very long as they asked me about my daughter and being a new parent. Finally, I said, “Can you tell me about my cancer please?!”

    They looked at me astonished and said, “You don’t have cancer! Didn’t Doctor Foley tell you? He called us and said, ‘I have a disaster here!’ We told him it was not a disaster. What you have is a borderline mucinous cyst, which is common for women your age.”

    I don’t think I have ever experienced more relief or gratitude than I felt then, not even after my children were born. What could be more profound than feeling like you were handed a death sentence and then be given a “get out of jail free card?”

    I went home and felt like I had been given a second chance at life. I opened the windows, I cleaned the house, I smiled again. However, that sweetness lasted only a short time before I began to ruminate and worry again.

    The relief never lasted because there was always another disaster around the corner.

    For the years following, I stayed diligent. I saw cancer everywhere. I felt lumps, I felt bumps, I saw weird looking dots on my body, rashes, twitches that would have me flying into a panic. I avoided school outings because I thought a mom had cancer (turns out she has alopecia!) To this day I still get high blood pressure in the doctor’s office even if I am just going in to have a splinter removed.

    I was living a traumatized person’s reality. On the surface, I was functioning, but underneath I was filled with pain and weariness. This diagnosis was one more trauma to now pile onto a lifetime of traumatic experiences.

    Before I got pregnant, I had made two visits to the emergency room because I thought I was experiencing a heart attack. I routinely felt like I could not swallow and that I was choking even when I had nothing in my mouth. I often felt like I could not breathe or get enough air.

    I had lots of visits to the doctor’s office, a heart ultrasound, tests for asthma, bloodwork, etc. They told me it was anxiety, but I could not believe that my mind would cause such strong symptoms.

    Recently, I spent some time doing a form of EMDR on myself, going into the feeling of terror that I feel with health anxiety. It brought up an old memory of me driving with my dad at about ten years old.

    He was drunk driving with my sister and me on the highway.

    I remember yelling at him, “Dad if you don’t stop driving this way I am going to drive!” I remember that moment like it was yesterday. I remembered that feeling of complete helplessness and being out of control.

    “Aha,” I thought to myself. That’s the first time I felt that feeling.”

    Of course, it makes sense I have health anxiety and that I obsess and try to avoid or control it.

    We all have formulated parts of ourselves that at one time served an important purpose—to keep us safe. My protector identity understands how overwhelmed I was and has worked my whole life to keep that feeling at bay. Health anxiety can be a manifestation of trauma.

    Healing took time and intention. It also happened not in a therapy chair but in a dance studio. It was in this space where I first slowed down and was able to feel safe in my body.

    I started salsa dancing and just doing the warm-up of a dancer. Moving each part of the body with intention and curiosity, helped me get acquainted with my body’s unique inner sensations so they felt more familiar and less scary.

    I also tend to have a more obsessive type brain, and finding a way to channel my anxiety into healthy challenges that I can control has been crucial in getting less reactive to health scares. That means dancing more as well as starting a business.

    My brain needs things to latch onto, and both of these give me what health anxiety was giving me (a place to channel overall anxiety) but in a way that feels healthier and within my control.

    Finally, working on my nervous system and getting into a parasympathetic state has been incredibly healing. When you are trained to be hypervigilant, relaxing feels scary! I have found doing practices like restorative or yin yoga help me feel deeper into my body within my window of tolerance.

    Slowly, with time and consistency, my life and outlook for my future started to change. The change was so profound that people saw me and asked what I was doing differently. I started to fully investigate the power of the body to influence the mind. It was at thirty-six years old I started to feel joy for the first time that I could remember.

    I saw recently on Facebook an acquaintance from high school, his wife, young and beautiful with two small children, died of colon cancer. I felt so much sadness and anger at the unfairness of this. I felt compassion. I see it as growth that I did not start researching statistics or going into a health fear spiral.

    Five years ago, I asked my sister what she felt when she heard the tragic news, and she told me she feels compassion.

    I said to her, “Is that what normal people feel?” I saw every tragedy as a warning to get more vigilant, more hardened in my body and my mind, and as a chance to numb out to not feel the range of human emotions.

    Some days, I do feel anxiety at the uncertainty of the world, and health anxiety can still pop up for me. Part of the healing process is changing the way we relate to something that we cannot change and finding healthy tools to help us a cope.

    If you struggle with health anxiety, like I did—obsessing over every ache, pain, or even minor discomfort, worrying about the potential for a serious diagnosis that could irreparably change your life—it might interfere with your ability to function from day to day.

    Maybe you spend hours googling your symptoms and diagnosing yourself, and regularly find yourself in doctor’s offices for the relief of hearing you’re okay—which is likely short-lived. On the flip side, your health anxiety may prevent you from taking good care of yourself, if you skip necessary medical appointments to avoid confirming your worst fears.

    The irony is you might end up creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. Excessive worry can create physical symptoms, like changes in heart rate and blood pressure, tightening in your chest, and difficulty breathing, which can further convince you that you have a terrible disease—and potentially cause health issues down the line.

    Maybe you’ve experienced trauma that made you feel helpless, like me, and that’s why you fear the unknown and being out of control. Maybe you lost someone you love to a serious illness, and you’re afraid it could also happen to you, if you’re not diligent. Or maybe you have a health condition, and you’re afraid of it advancing into something even more dangerous. Whatever the cause, it is possible to heal.

    The first step is recognizing the stories you’re creating in your head and how worry is interfering with your ability to enjoy the people and things you love.

    The next step is accepting that you need help—and then finding the courage to seek it.

    Perhaps, like me, you’ll find it beneficial to try EMDR to help you work through old traumas; and you may want to adopt a practice that calms your nervous system and gets you out of your head and into your body, like yoga or tai chi.

    Or you might need the guidance of a therapist who can help you learn to challenge your fear-based thoughts and beliefs, reduce the coping behaviors that only increase your anxiety, and sit with the discomfort of uncertainty when it arises instead of creating even more anxiety.

    In the end, that’s what it all comes down to: learning to accept that “bad” things may happen in life, but we can’t prevent them by staying hypervigilant and avoiding all activities that could potentially put us at risk. We may feel safer when we do these things, but we’re really just living half-alive in our attempts to protect our lives.

    I do not know the outcome of much of life. What will happen to me, my children, the people I love, the world? In moments of joy, I often feel a twinge of grief. I can now hold both at the same time. I understand sadness and grief in a new way, not something to be afraid of, to numb out or push away, but simply a feeling to let move through me so I can fully experience the range of human life.

  • Free Online Festival: A Different Kind of Trauma Conference

    Free Online Festival: A Different Kind of Trauma Conference

    Hi friends!

    Last year I invited you all to join the Embodied Trauma Conference, a powerful, healing event hosted by Tiny Buddha contributor Karine Bell.

    This free, five-day online summit featured a series of talks from twenty-two thought leaders, all focusing on different aspects of healing from trauma—including developmental, sexual, racial, and intergenerational.

    This year she’s offering a FREE follow-up event that I’m sure you’ll find transformative. It’s called Tending the Roots: A 4-day Odyssey of Resilience & Reimagination, Culture & Community, and it takes place next week, between April 21st and 24th.

    This event will focus on our personal and communal healing, and you can expect educational and experiential workshops, and also music, movement, and art.

    It will be a time of learning and connecting, experimenting and experiencing, and interacting and playing together.

    Closed captioning will be available, and there will also be separate Zoom room spaces with creative activities for kids during some of the main workshop sessions (if you need something to keep them entertained while you tune in!)

    Who is Tending the Roots For?

    This festival exploring trauma healing and transformation, with our bodies as the site of liberation is for…

    Humans, big and small. Lovers and skeptics. Those longing to connect despite wounds around connection. Dreamers and activists, Aspiring activists, body-centered practitioners, therapists, parents and caregivers, educators, artists, musicians, and anyone interested in dancing with and tending to the flame of our life energy in creative, life-supportive ways.

    If you’d like to learn how trauma opens up portals of resilience and growth and connect with like-hearted people dedicated to healing in their own lives and in the world, sign up for the FREE Tending the Roots festival here.

    I hope you find this unique event both cathartic and liberating!

     

  • Why I No Longer Fight for Acknowledgment When Someone Devalues Me

    Why I No Longer Fight for Acknowledgment When Someone Devalues Me

    “People will teach you how to love by not loving you back. People will teach you how to forgive by not apologizing. People will teach you kindness by their judgment. People will teach you how to grow by remaining stagnant. Pay attention when you’re going through pain and mysterious times. Listen to the wisdom life is trying to teach you.” ~Meredith Marple

    “The ad was a misprint. We can’t offer you any monetary compensation for your writing, maybe dog treats.”

    This is an actual response from a successful animal-themed magazine I was going to write for. This letter went on to say that if my love for animals exceeded my need for money, then they would be happy to have me write for them, which I took as a personal offense since I am a huge animal lover.

    You can’t make this stuff up!

    With experiences like these, I am no stranger to feeling devalued in my career, and I have a hard time accepting a lack of consideration and respect. Case in point…

    Another magazine responded that they were interested in a particular piece I wrote, then proceeded to drop communication. Dozens of follow-ups went unanswered until the one day I had enough. I felt so disrespected, as if I didn’t matter enough to at least receive a response. I wrote a type of letter I had never written before to this magazine, and in turn, I learned a hard life lesson.

    My email detailed how disappointed I was in the lack of etiquette from the people who ran this once-favorite magazine of mine.

    I had let my anger build in true Sagittarian form and let out my storm of personal truth.

    I received a response!

    The editor apologized and forwarded this angry email onto the person above her, but guess what happened next?

    I tried submitting again, and again, even recently, again!

    No response.

    I am convinced that they have purposely ceased communication with me now.

    While the way I was raised and what I believe to be basic human decency justify this act of standing up for myself, all it really did to this person with different values, I’m sure, is make me look immature and emotional. And I imagine I burned a possible bridge.

    Now I realize that, regardless of what I did, they may have continued to handle their submissions with the same disregard, but after the initial, indignant warrior high, I had nothing but regret.

    What I learned is that in many situations, standing up and fighting for acknowledgement isn’t necessarily the wisest action.

    This of course depends on the situation.

    In this situation, I should have simply moved on instead of taking it so personally and allowing this one encounter to take up so much energy in my heart and fill my being with negativity.

    There’s also nowhere to move forward when you’re living within the emotion of anger and hurt. All I did is get myself worked up over something that was beyond my control. And I failed to look at the situation objectively and consider the many reasons why they may not have responded to my emails.

    I was also disrespecting myself by putting so much hope, belief, and self-identification into what, at the end of the day, is a business. There’s truth to the line, “It’s business, not personal,” yet I never seemed to grasp that enough to create emotional separation, which is what I do now.

    Maybe my emails truly did get lost in the shuffle. Maybe the editor had something going on in their personal life that was overwhelming and they simply didn’t need this submission. Maybe my email was just one email too many. Maybe they’re understaffed and often far behind with emails. I can’t possibly know what’s really going on in someone else’s mind or life, and that’s the way I need to look at these situations to move on with grace.

    This world is made up of many different people with different priorities and life situations. I learned that there is nothing wrong with sticking to my values and asserting myself, but it doesn’t help anything to challenge someone who is coming from a different world than my own.

    Now, I ask myself…

    Is standing up, speaking up, worth burning a bridge?

    I think about the other person’s life and workload, and where they may be coming from, not to justify, but to understand.

    I journal or create art to let the hurt out.

    I take deep breaths.

    I exercise the frustration and inevitable lack of closure out from my body.

    “Sleeping on it” also has great value, as well as genuine quiet contemplation time.

    A lot of times standing up against personal injustice doesn’t change the inflictor, but it will always change you, for better or worse.

    At least that is what I have found.

    Most of all, if being vulnerable with someone makes me feel horrible in my own skin because they clearly hold different values, I now walk away. I simply try to acknowledge the difference in character and move forward on my own path.

    These experiences continue to crop up in different forms, and I believe have changed me for the better. People who have broken my spirit by devaluing and ignoring me have actually led me to having more empathy. I have the desire to reach out to people more because I have observed what a lack of human acknowledgement can do to a person.

    I am by no means perfect—none of us are—but I promise myself that I will always get back to people in a timely manner because I know what it’s like to feel disregarded and unimportant.

    I am deeply in tune to other people’s pain, which at times can make me feel unbelievably heavy but somehow creates a profound desire in me to reach out with as much love as possible.

    I also really appreciate people who do respond to emails, letters, phone calls. These people remind me of who I want to be and also remind me that I get to choose who I align myself with in my personal and professional life.

    I learned a lot from the times that I have acted out from my own opinions and values.

    I learned that pushing my perspective on someone else often creates more harm, and in most cases won’t change how they view a particular situation. They may forever be on the opposite side of that long, thick tug-of-war rope.

    Sometimes I think it’s better to let go, turn away, and face forward to the people and life that you desire. If the bridge is broken, don’t burn it, you never know, but don’t try climbing onto it because then you will inevitably fall and lose yourself in the process.

    I say, continue to hold true to your values and stances and spread love by living them instead of spreading animosity by insisting on obtaining justice from those who don’t share the same life views.

    Finally, keep seeking out your people, your friends who would never ignore or purposely disrespect you, because those people will reinforce to you that you deserve attention and acknowledgement, whether everyone values you or not.

  • How Happiness Sneaks Up on Us If We Stop Chasing It

    How Happiness Sneaks Up on Us If We Stop Chasing It

    One day a man met a hungry tiger. He ran. The tiger chased him. Coming to a cliff, he jumped, catching hold of a tree root to stop himself falling to the bottom where, horror upon horror, another tiger waited to eat him.

    He hung on for dear life to that thin root.

    Then a little mouse appeared and started to nibble at the root. The mouse was hungry and the fibers started to snap.

    Just then, the man saw a ripe red strawberry near him, growing from the cliff face. Holding the vine with one hand, he picked the strawberry with the other.

    How sweet it tasted! How happy he was!

    Buddhist Koan

    There’s no good time to have a heart attack. They really mess up your plans.

    The timing of mine could have been worse, though. I guess I should be grateful.

    It didn’t seem that way: alone, midnight, searing pain in my spine, chest, arms. Raw fear.

    At least I was at home. That’s something to be grateful for.

    Three months earlier I’d been directing a show in India. Then a short trip to run a corporate training in Malaysia. I was home in the UK for less than two weeks before I’d flown to China for more corporate work.

    Back from China, I drove north to Scotland to sort out my mother, moving her into a care home. A lifetime of books, pictures, clothes, and memories distilled to… almost nothing. How do you fit a lifetime into a small room?

    Through all those trips, in airports, mid-workshops, late in the night, I’d had shooting, crippling, breath-stopping chest pains, which I always found some way to ignore. They passed.

    I was in my fifties and fit. I was fine. There’s always some explanation, other than the obvious, when the obvious is too scary to face.

    The day of my heart attack, I drove eight hours from Scotland to England and, exhausted, collapsed to bed.

    I was woken by pain at midnight. At least I woke. That too is something to be grateful for.

    It wasn’t a good time to have a heart attack, but it could have been worse.

    There’s a lot I can be grateful for.

    “Looks like a heart attack,” said the paramedic, studying an ECG print-out in the back of the ambulance. “Let’s get you to the hospital to confirm.”

    “Yes, a heart attack,” confirmed the doctor, some time before dawn. “We’ll find you a bed and work out what to do with you next.”

    “Not a good time,” I thought, wires taped to my chest, old men wheezing and muttering in the other beds. “I’m due in Greece on Tuesday.”

    My clogged arteries didn’t much care I’d booked my flights. Things happen when they happen.

    ***

    I was in the hospital for ten days. There were daily discussions about how to treat me. My heart attack had not been very bad, but not very good either.

    Open-heart surgery or stenting?

    In the end they couldn’t decide, so they left it up to me. Open-heart surgery is more invasive but maybe safer in the long term. Stents could be done in an hour and I could go home. They might not be enough though.

    My choice.

    I chose stents. Attention to my body is the foundation of what I do. I couldn’t bear the thought of being cut open. At least, I couldn’t bear it as long as there was some other way.

    A good choice?

    Time will tell.

    I had to wait four days between decision and surgery. Four days in the hospital when I should have been in Greece.

    The morning after I chose my treatment, I experienced something very strange. Not another heart-attack, though it happened in the region of my heart. I discovered I was happy.

    Not happy about anything. Not happy because of anything. Just happy.

    Completely, unconditionally happy.

    I’d woken at 5am. It was June, so already it was light. The hospital was quiet.

    Sunlight streamed through the window, and I lay looking at the tree outside. My bed was curtained-off, so I was wrapped in privacy.

    I started reading my book, relishing the early hour, and being left alone.

    A bird sang outside.

    I felt spacious.

    I was happy.

    It was simple. It was quiet. There was a bird in the tree outside, singing, because that’s what birds do.

    All that existed was a very quiet “now.” Book, sunlight, scrubby early-morning birdsong.

    I was alive.

    I didn’t know for how much longer, but in that moment, I was alive, and that was enough.

    ***

    Two months later, I spent a week on an island off the Atlantic coast of Ireland. I was taking myself through a disciplined rehabilitation.

    Each day I walked a little further.

    I ate well and slept a lot.

    I worked my stress and anxiety, which I’d ignored for decades.

    A small Irish, Atlantic island in summer is warmer than in winter, but not much else changes. There’s wind and rain and wild beauty. I walked, morning, noon, and night. Each day I went further, took more risks. Slowly, I learned to trust my body again.

    On the third day, I stood at the top of one of the larger hills. There was a gale blowing off the sea, and the rain was sheeting down.

    It was viciously cold.

    My waterproof jacket had given up, and spiteful rain ran down my spine.

    I sheltered behind the hilltop cairn, and muttered, “This is vile.”

    Then a warmness of the heart.

    “I’m happy again,” I thought. Once again, not happy because, or happy to, or happy that, or happy for… Just happy.

    ***

    A few times in the eighteen months since, I have felt it.

    A moment of simple happiness.

    What is it?

    We spend so much time seeking happiness through achievement:

    If I can afford this house, I’ll be happy.

    If I am in relationship with this person, I’ll be happy.

    If I get this job or pass this exam…

    If I live by the sea…

    If I had more friends…

    If I had…

    If I…

    We seek happiness from outside. We see it as a consequence of things beyond ourselves. As if happiness was a perk of a new job, a company car, or access to the gym, or some secret room in a house we want, one day, to occupy.

    But happiness is not a by-product. Happiness is.

    We seek happiness from outside, extrinsically, ignoring that it lives only inside. Happiness is intrinsic.

    The things that come to us from outside, extrinsic rewards, are not in our control. To rely on them for happiness is to put ourselves at the mercy of fate and luck. If we find happiness within, though, it is truly ours. We can learn to nurture it.

    The new house, job, love, car, will not make you happy, though they may distract you from your dissatisfaction for a while.

    Only embracing happiness in this moment will make you happy.

    Like a grouchy old house cat that will not let you pet her, spurns the food you lovingly put out, and hisses if you get too close, happiness will, unexpectedly, curl up on your lap and comfort you from time to time.

    Does that mean that we cannot make ourselves happier? That happiness is arbitrary and we must suffer until it visits us?

    Though we can’t force that grouchy old cat to come, we can learn to sit quietly, giving her space and encouragement. We can learn to quieten our mind and allow the happiness of being alive—in this moment—to enter us. We can invite happiness in, by opening to it.

    Not doing things to become happy. Letting ourselves be happy.

    If I stop seeking outside of myself and start experiencing what it is to live this moment, then happiness might curl up in my chest and comfort me.

    Happiness lives on a mountain in a summer gale. It sneaks into an early morning hospital room. It is here now if, between one word and the next, I pause my typing, and I wait.

    It lives inside me, not in things I want, or think I need.

    It’s here.

    Now is a good time to be happy.

    Now is the only time there is.

    I am grateful I am here, now.

    I am grateful that, somewhere inside me, now, there’s happiness and if I stop looking for it out there, perhaps it will come to sit on my lap.

    How sweet it tasted! How happy he was!

    Buddhist Koan

  • How to Create Happiness Outside of a Relationship and Enjoy More of Your Life

    How to Create Happiness Outside of a Relationship and Enjoy More of Your Life

    “Remember, being happy doesn’t mean you have it all. It simply means you’re thankful for all you have.” ~Unknown

    For many years I was single. But I wasn’t just a regular single, I was a miserable one.

    Rather than enjoying a time in my life when I didn’t have to care about anyone else but myself and using it to devote my full attention to my purpose and passions, I chose to ride the “woe is me” train.

    I would complain about being single daily and covet other women’s “luck” in dating. I would blame every guy I dated for “just not being ready,” or somehow else at fault.

    I didn’t realize I was the common denominator in all my failed relationship attempts.

    I was the one who chose to spend time with these men and ignore the big red flags that would crystalize themselves early on.

    Instead of taking time to patiently vet and reject men that were not good for me, I allowed my desperation to entertain any man that would show interest.

    My inability to find happiness outside of a relationship was ultimately what kept me single.

    The saying “you attract what you are” was true in my case. I was miserable single, so I kept attracting miserable relationships. 

    I continued down the same path until I decided that something needed to change.

    I realized that I had outsourced the job of making me happy to the many men that I dated.

    Their presence, their commitment, and their interest in me would determine how happy I was. Unfortunately, due to my questionable taste in romantic partners, that would often mean not so happy. So, I decided it was time to change that.

    That is when things started to shift, and I called in the life and love that I wanted. Here is what I did to find happiness outside of a relationship:

    Dealing with the Absence of a Relationship

    One thing I have learned is that in the absence of a romantic relationship I had to find fulfilling activities that made me happy.

    When you are single you have a lot of time. Time to think about everything you feel is missing.

    I would spend my evenings watching romantic movies on Hallmark wishing my life were like the plotline of the movie.

    And more often than not, all it did was make me more miserable. So, I decided to utilize that free time in the evening in a better way.

    I came up with a beautiful nighttime routine that included coloring, listening to music, and reading a book on spirituality or personal growth.

    I would fill the void with activities that filled me up.

    Same for the morning times. Instead of lying in bed and scrolling through Instagram until all I saw were couples and babies, I started running.

    Not only did I get into the best shape of my life because of it, but I also discovered a new passion for running and working out that quickly turned into a hobby I’m now passionate about.

    By dealing with the absence of a relationship head-on I found activities that made me happy.

    Dealing with the Sadness of Singleness

    The second thing I did to find happiness outside of a relationship was learn to deal with the sadness that singleness often brings with it.

    It’s no secret that being single can suck.

    No matter how often single people are made to believe that being single is a blessing, it can be hard to see it when that blessing seems to last forever.

    What I have learned is that rather than avoiding, suppressing, and denying the sadness, I had to learn to embrace it.

    I needed to allow the ebbs and flows to pan out accordingly. By deeply feeling the sadness and despair, I also enabled myself to feel the joy and excitement that followed after.

    Reminding yourself that no emotion lasts forever, and that you will eventually overcome it, is the light at the end of the tunnel that keeps you going.

    Therefore, you must make it a habit to tune into your inner well-being daily. Here are three ways I do it:

    1. Start your mornings with a meditation practice that centers you and puts you in tune with how you are really feeling.

    2. Start journaling your thoughts to better understand your fears and worries. You can commit a few minutes in the morning or evening to it.

    3. Commit to a daily gratitude exercise. Multiple times throughout the day, stop what you are doing and simply list three to five things you are grateful for. They can be as simple things as your home, furniture, or the body parts that serve you well.

    There are many different habits that you can choose from. The only thing that matters is that you create a safe space and routine that allows you to feel your emotions without judging them.

    This will help you deal with the sadness of singleness.

    Dealing with the Uncertainty of Dating

    The last thing I had to learn in order to find happiness outside of a relationship was how to navigate through the dating space without feeling burned out or discouraged.

    Dating nowadays feels like you are entering the twilight zone. With many different terms and stages describing the act of dating, many people are not sure what they are doing anymore.

    Are you dating, hanging out, hooking up, or maybe just “chilling”?

    If you don’t know, chances are you are stressed by the uncertainty. And that feeling of anxiety sucks.

    It’s a constant ride on a roller coaster of emotions controlled by the other person.

    So, how can you learn to deal with the uncertainty that dating oftentimes brings with it?

    The first step is to increase your self-esteem and remind yourself that your relationship status does not determine your worth.

    When a romantic relationship does not progress the way you want, you may feel discouraged and disappointed. These feelings are valid and should be honored; however, you have to remember that they are only feelings. That means they will pass.

    Instead, use affirmations to build yourself up daily and celebrate all your minor successes, the positive impact you have on the people around you, and how far you’ve come as a person. This will help you remember all the great qualities you bring to a relationship and will be a blessing to the person you are with in the future.

    The second step is to focus on the fun.

    In a world of billions of people, it may take some time to find the one person you would like to spend the rest of your life with, who happens to want the same.

    Uncertainty is part of the dating process. Rather than shying away from it, try to focus on the fun of dating. Meet people without any expectations and instead decide to just have a good time and enjoy their company.

    By doing that, you will naturally feel less anxious, because you are not trying to control your date’s experience, only your own.

    Because of today’s societal pressure to be boo’d up by a certain age, it can often feel depressing when you are not in a committed relationship. Which then leads to unhappiness.

    However, by taking matters into your own hands and deciding to create happiness for yourself, you allow yourself to experience life and live in the present moment.

  • Where My Depression Really Came From and What Helped Me Heal

    Where My Depression Really Came From and What Helped Me Heal

    “How you do one thing is how you do everything.” ~Unknown

    One afternoon, during a particularly low slump, I was getting out of the shower. Quickly reaching for something on the sink, I knocked an old glass off the counter, shattering it onto the floor.

    In most cases, one might experience stress, frustration, or sadness upon accidentally breaking an object that belongs to them. They might feel agitation on top of their already poor mood. But in the moment the glass shattered, I felt instant relief.

    It was an old item I’d gotten at a thrift store, and the image on the glass was all but worn off. In the back of my mind, I’d wanted to get rid of the whole glass set, and the shattering of one of its pieces served as a firm confirmation it was time to let go.

    In that unexpected moment of relief, I realized I was holding on to the glasses out of some strange obligation and a fear that I wouldn’t have the money to replace things if I gave them away.

    I marveled at this interesting aspect of my consciousness I had not noticed before, wondering, “What else am I doing this with? How many things in my life are subtle burdens that I tolerate out of some vague sense of obligation? Does it really make me a “good person” to tolerate so much, to hold on to so much unwanted baggage from the past?

    Suddenly, I remembered something I had recently learned from one of my mentors about depression: We must stop clinging to people, places, and things that no longer deliver the joy they once did. Even more importantly, release things that never delivered joy, even when we thought they would.

    This sacred practice is all too underrated. We must cut the dead weight in our lives, even if it is unnerving. Whether it is a negative relationship, a job in which you are disrespected, a habit that is draining your health, or even some unwanted items in your home that are taking up too much space.

    It is our stubborn unwillingness, our fear of letting go, that keeps us in low spirits, day after day. In these instances, we are waiting for the impossible. We are waiting for things to miraculously improve without us having to do anything different.

    Even though I was in a bad mood, I thanked the glass and the sudden shattering for its lesson. The humbling realization was that I was a clinger—someone who stuck with people, places, and things long after they’d proven they were not right for me.

    As the saying goes, “How you do one thing is how you do everything.” The glasses that I didn’t really want any more were a small symbol of how I was an energetic hoarder. I kept things until life forcefully yanked them out of my hands.

    Often, I clung to subpar situations out of fear. I was afraid of being left alone, with nothing, so I’d gotten myself into the habit of anxiously settling. And as we all know, settling is no way to live a satisfying, dignified life.

    When we settle, the parts of us that aspire to grow are denied respect. We subconsciously tell ourselves it is not worth it—we are not worth it.

    My habit of settling had gotten me into more binds than I could count—low-paying jobs, incompatible relationships, boring days, and restless nights wondering what I was supposed to be doing. Why weren’t things better?

    The simple answer was, I didn’t choose anything better. I didn’t know how.

    When we don’t know ourselves, we don’t know what we want and need. And when we doubt our worth or our ability to make things happen, we hold ourselves back from what would make us happy. This is where depression breeds, along with burnout, stress, and apathy.

    So how can this painful spiral be prevented? And if you already find yourself in this predicament, how can you climb out of the hole?

    1. Assess everything in your life.

    What just isn’t working, no matter how hard you try, in work, your relationships, your habits? These are the areas where you need to make a decision. Either let something go or make a change that is significant enough to transform how you feel about the situation.

    2. Find the hope.

    Hopelessness is a huge aspect of lingering depression. The problem is, people often try to talk themselves into being hopeful about something that actually isn’t going to work (e.g.: a relationship that was meant to end). Instead of clinging, let go and seek out new things that feel truly hopeful instead.

    It’s not always easy to let go, especially when it pertains to relationships, and particularly when you’re not hopeful there’s anything better out there for you. Start by asking yourself, “Why do I believe this is the best I can do, or what I deserve?” And then, “What would I need to believe in order to let go of this thing that isn’t good for me and open myself up to something better?”

    3. Change anything.

    When we are stuck in a rut, it usually means things have been the same way for too long. Routine and consistency can be a poison or a cure, depending on the situation. If you’re feeling stuck, look for how doing the same thing every day isn’t working. Sometimes, making any random change is enough to shake you out of that rut.

    This could mean taking a new route to work or doing something creative when you usually binge watch Netflix. Sometimes little changes can give us a surprising level of new insight and self-understanding.

    4. Lastly, admit to what you really want.

    If you won’t risk being hopeful and taking action toward what you really want, you will default to a life of tragic safety. You will shy away from the truth, clinging to all the things that don’t really resonate with you. Ironically, you have to be willing to risk loss to in order to acquire valuable things in life.

    So start by being brave enough to admit what you really want in all aspects of your life, and perhaps more importantly, what you need. What would make you feel fulfilled and excited about life again?

    —

    We often think of depression as a vengeful disease that robs us of our joy and vitality. But when we begin to look at our lives with more honesty, we can see depression for what it really is: a messenger.

    I like to think of depression as the first phase of enlightenment—a reckoning we must endure to come out the other side with clarity. When we stop pushing negative feelings away, we can discover why they exist and what steps will resolve them.

    For me, this meant letting go of how I thought my life should be and embracing how it was. Rather than lamenting about the past or obsessing about the future, I started taking practical steps to improve the present. This included cleaning up my diet, giving up a job that no longer worked for me, and digging into attachment styles to learn how to improve my relationships. The more action I took, the more hopeful and empowered I felt.

    The road to happiness isn’t nearly as direct as we would like it to be, but this gives us the opportunity to access what we truly wanted all along: self-understanding, self-acceptance, and self-empowerment. Depression isn’t a problem, but a road-sign. The question is, will we ignore it, or let ourselves be guided?

  • Why We Need to Be Present to Enjoy Our Lives, Not Just Productive

    Why We Need to Be Present to Enjoy Our Lives, Not Just Productive

    “Presence is far more intricate and rewarding an art than productivity. Ours is a culture that measures our worth as human beings by our efficiency, our earnings, our ability to perform this or that. The cult of productivity has its place, but worshipping at its altar daily robs us of the very capacity for joy and wonder that makes life worth living.” ~Maria Popova

    I was high on productivity. I had one full-time job, two part-time jobs, and a side hustle. I was getting everything done. Sounds perfect, right?

    Then I started hating my life.

    I had read enough books and articles to tell me how I was not doing enough. Enough self-help gurus had told me that what I needed to do was max out every single hour I had to be minutely close to being “successful.”

    My co-workers often got intimidated by my jam-packed calendar. I don’t exaggerate when I say that every minute of my life was scheduled. Sheldon-level scheduled, with dedicated “bathroom breaks” and everything.

    I ran three to-do lists: daily, weekly, monthly. This was my way of setting out for maximum efficiency. I said “yes” to my boss so often I had become his favorite. Work-life balance, what’s that?

    Tasks were flying off my list like never before—so many horizontal breakthroughs! I wore this as my badge of honor for a while, this art of getting it all done. And why not? I was rewarded for it in money, praise, promotions, awe.

    But then it didn’t feel so great. Instead, I became downright miserable.

    Why Busyness-Productivity Is A Mirage

    I don’t claim that productivity is bad. Doing fulfilling work by minimizing distractions and getting deep focus is truly rewarding.

    But it is crucial to stop and question why you’re doing what you’re doing. It is necessary to pause and reflect on the value of your tasks and actions. Otherwise, productivity translates to useless busyness.

    When I became this productivity freak, I never stopped to ask if any of the things I was doing were giving my life meaning. I was doing a demanding full-time job that didn’t provide me any purpose. My days became a blur of mindless task completions. My mind, heart, and soul were absent from my work. Any given Monday didn’t look so different from a Tuesday three weeks prior.

    And it wasn’t even like I was happy.

    I was meeting all my deadlines, but I was spending no time with my family. There were enough accolades to prove all my achievements but not enough art to fulfill my soul. I answered every email I received within twenty-four hours, but I hardly focused on long-term self-growth.

    On the outside, my life never looked better. But on the inside, I was worse than I had ever been. Distraction, schedules, irritability, and deadlines were the monsters that ruled my life.

    After a month-long burnout, I hit the problem nail in the head. I knew I needed to move on. But how? I resolved to take a calculated leap of faith. I found a client willing to pay me for my freelancing services for at least two to three months and made a thick emergency fund by cutting out on expenses. Then, I quit the unfulfilling full-time job and gave my heart to work that I truly found meaning in. I stopped making productivity my goal. I opted to choose presence instead.

    Presence > Productivity

    I read Annie Dillard’s, The Writing Life, in which she memorably wrote, “how we spend our days, is of course, how we spend our lives.”

    After reading this book, I realized that productivity would only be fruitful when coupled with presence. I knew then that presence was what would make my rewards meaningful.

    What is presence? Presence is the art of being in the moment, the luxury of pausing, the virtue of stillness. It is being alert, aware, and alive to this moment.

    There’s a reason why our culture runs for productivity instead of presence. Productivity helps us shut away from reality. It keeps us “busy” into a future that is yet to manifest.

    It is so much easier and convenient to take the shield of productivity against the beautiful, buoyant, and sometimes disruptively painful present.

    Performing one task after next gives us an excuse to not fully live, not completely concentrate, not unbiasedly accept.

    I used to be that way—trying to avoid the truth that I was not finding my work meaningful. I wouldn’t accept that this job was emptying me slowly, living in denial of a reality I was living. Was I not getting things done? I was, more than ever before. But was I happy? I had never been more unhappy with my own choices.

    Being productive every minute of every day meant I could avoid the fact that many of my friendships were depleting, toxic, and unhealthy. I was lying to myself that it was all to have a good social life. In reality, I would go out of my way to avoid being alone, to avoid answering the big questions pertaining to my life that can only be answered in solitude.

    But coupling our actions with productivity and presence can have an astounding effect on our lives. It can make every task we do driven with intention, purpose, and meaning. Presence is what helps us reap the internal rewards that come with doing fulfilling work.

    Choosing Presence

    If you are anything like me, choosing presence over productivity can take some practice. Productivity was my normal mode of operation. It was easy; it came naturally. But opting for presence in my actions wasn’t so simple.

    The art of being present and intentional in all my tasks was like writing with my non-dominant left hand. I searched for help and stumbled upon Tim Ferris. He often says to think of your epitaph to cut through all the noise and maze of productivity. It is a way to find out what truly matters to you by getting a super-zoomed out version of your life.

    As morbid as it sounds, that is what I did. I imagined what I would like to carve on my epitaph, and the important stuff came into a laser-sharp focus:

    I needed to write. I needed to make time for solitude, for serendipity, for hobbies. I wanted to create more memories with my family. I wanted to let go of draining friendships and put all my energy into relationships that filled me with fulfillment, meaning, and growth. Taking it one step at a time, I decided to hand in my resignation. I landed my first writing gig in under two weeks.

    And hey, it’s not like I don’t struggle to write with my left hand anymore. But I am growing each day. It takes some practice and effort to make room in your calendar to “be present.” I am learning to be uncomfortable by turning the volume down of “getting things done.”

    I have noticed that it is the minor changes that count. It is taking a little more time to craft that email mindfully. It is that courageous “no” to a project that can help you surpass your quarterly KPIs but take away from your family time. It is choosing to take a soothing fifteen-minute walk break over checking off another mindless to-do list task.

    Presence is a process. It requires the discipline to focus on the present moment when productivity pushes you to see a non-existent future. Presence is your un-busy existence of utterly unadulterated joy. It is your creativity’s cradle. It is your time to just be.

    So do it. Make the hard choice. Live your life with presence to help you find joy in the now instead of pushing toward some destination in the future. None of us really know where the future will bring us, but we can all choose to enjoy the scenery along the way.

  • Feel Hurt in Your Relationship? How to Get Your Needs Met and Feel Closer

    Feel Hurt in Your Relationship? How to Get Your Needs Met and Feel Closer

    “The less you open your heart to others, the more your heart suffers.” ~Deepak Chopra

    I used to handle hurtful situations in relationships the same way. I’d get angry, shut down, get irritated, or just give my partner the silent treatment. This just led to more of what I didn’t want—separation, loneliness, and frustration.

    So one day I made up my mind. I was going to change my approach and try something different. Cause we’ve all heard that famous saying from Albert Einstein: “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

    I was tired of not getting the level of intimacy in my relationships that I longed for. I was tired of feeling alone, frustrated, and separated from my partner, especially during the moments when I felt most hurt.

    It all turned around in one single moment.

    People think that change happens incrementally over time, but in my experience it’s often a defining moment in time where you make a new decision that changes everything.

    Turning Separation into Intimacy

    Let me take you back to this moment… I was upset, lying in bed next to my partner. Earlier that evening we had attended a birthday party, and my partner’s ex was there. Truth to be told, it made me jealous.

    Looking back, I had no real reason to be jealous, but that’s the innate nature of jealousy—it’s never rational, it’s emotional. On instinct, I handled the situation as I always did when I felt jealous, inferior, or threatened. I shut down, got irritated and cold, and gave him the silent treatment.

    “What’s the matter?” my boyfriend asked for probably the hundredth time that evening. (Have you ever been in a situation where your partner asks you the same question over and over again, and you repeat the same answer over and over again, secretly wishing that he’d read your mind?)

    “It’s nothing,” I replied with a cold tone, and turned my back on him. That’s where I started to ask myself what was really going on. What I realized was this: At the core, I was not really angry, upset, or irritated. I was hurt and afraid. I felt exposed and rejected.

    So I made a new choice there and then. I told him what the situation was really about: me not feeling pretty enough, not lovable enough, scared that he would choose someone else and leave me. And believe me, it was extremely scary to be vulnerable and expose myself in that way. I was way outside of my comfort zone, but it was truly worth it.

    When I dared to communicate honestly from my heart, I received what I needed: love, connection, and confirmation. This shift that I made during the conflict changed everything and made us, as a couple, closer than ever before. It opened up the door to a new level of communication and intimacy.

    Today, instead of pointing fingers at each other, we always try to take responsibility for our own thoughts, actions, and emotions. To stay honest and vulnerable, even when the stormy weather of negative emotions desperately tries to separate us and impose conflict.

    Assuming you’re in a healthy relationship with someone who would never intentionally hurt you, you too can turn conflict into deeper intimacy and not only feel closer to your partner, but also better meet your needs. Here’s the process that I follow to turn hurtful situations into intimacy:

    1. Stop and notice your emotions.

    The first step is to become aware of your emotions. Just stop and catch yourself when you feel hurt, angry, disappointed, jealous, irritated, lonely, etc. Don’t beat yourself up for having those emotions. To become aware of them is the first vital step in the process.

    For me, it was feelings of jealousy, irritation, anger, and separation that came over me.

    2. Ask yourself what story you’re telling yourself about the situation.

    What thoughts and beliefs do you have? It’s often very helpful to write down your story. The story in your head generates the emotions in your body, and it’s therefore crucial to become aware of your specific story.

    In my case, the story was the following: “My boyfriend still has feelings for his ex. He’s mean and doesn’t respect me. I don’t want to be close to him. I want to punish him and make him suffer. Also, I knew it; I can’t trust people, they always leave and hurt me.”

    3. Scrutinize your story.

    The stories that we play in our minds are often influenced by past memories and experiences. And they tend to trigger strong emotions, which makes us blindfolded; we aren’t capable of acting or thinking rationally.

    So, what we need to do is to scrutinize and question our story. Is this really true? Do I know for sure that this is the way it is? What are guesses, assumptions, and projections, and what are the actual facts?

    In my case, I had very few facts. My boyfriend had not left me, nor had he said or done anything that implied that he had feelings for his ex. When I scrutinized my negative and destructive story, I realized that there was little evidence to support it.

    4. Identify the root cause.

    Ask yourself what it’s really about. What are you not willing to see or feel that needs to be seen or felt?

    In my case, the root cause was me not feeling pretty enough, not lovable enough, and scared that he would choose someone else and leave me.

    This can be a tough one, but give yourself some love and credit for being brave enough to acknowledge your shadow. It’s key to be kind toward yourself, because this stage requires vulnerability. Trust me, the reward of doing so is immense!

    5. Reveal your true needs.

    When you know the root cause, ask yourself: “What is the underlying need that is not being met right now?” Is it to be loved? To feel connection? To feel special and significant? To feel safe? To tell what your heart is experiencing?

    Also, separate the needs that stem from fear and the needs that stem from love.

    Instinctively, I would have answered that I needed space and some time alone to think and reflect. That may sound rational and sound, but that was only my ego trying to avoid facing the real issue and pain. That only increased the distance and separation between me and my partner. To help you navigate this and to find the real, underlying need, ask yourself, “Is this need based on love or fear?”

    For me, the underlying needs were love and connection. I needed to feel my boyfriend’s love and presence. What I desperately longed for was a hug from him. A sincere hug that made me feel safe and seen. A loving hug that ultimately made me feel loved, significant. and special.

    6. Dare to be vulnerable with the other person.

    “Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” ~Brené Brown

    If this is a person that you truly want in your life, that you like a lot or love, then you have to take the risk of being vulnerable. You have to open up and tell the other person what you really feel. But really take time and contemplate this one. Not everyone deserves your vulnerable communication.

    I know that this can be very scary. The first time I did it, I stumbled on my words and I wasn’t able to look my partner in the eye. That’s how scared I was. But I did it anyway. And the reward was huge.

    So take a deep breath and speak your truth, tell the other person how you’re experiencing the situation right now, and dare to express your real underlying need(s).

    7. Take responsibility and own your thoughts and feelings.

    See the situation as an opportunity to acknowledge what you need to work on in life. See it as an opportunity to get closer to yourself and other people. Most importantly, don’t expect others to fix you.

    On my side, I realized that I have a hard time loving myself. But that was not my partner’s problem to fix. At the end of the day, I had to find a way to love myself, with or without his love.

    —

    Next time you are in a situation where you feel hurt, stop and reflect. Use the steps outlined above to move from separation to intimacy with the people you love.

    And remember to be loving and kind to yourself while you do it. No one is perfect, and you show courage by even wanting to look at the situation from a new angle. So stay curious and compassionate toward yourself and others. You got this!

  • On Those Hard Days When You Feel Like Nothing You Do Matters

    On Those Hard Days When You Feel Like Nothing You Do Matters

    “Just a reminder in case your mind is playing tricks on you today: You matter. You’re important. You’re loved. Your presence on this earth makes a difference whether you see it or not.” ~Unknown

    Today I woke up feeling like nothing I do matters. I didn’t want to wake up feeling like this, but I did.

    I got myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, and went through the motions until things inside my mind started to feel unbearable.

    The first thing I did was try to reason with myself, tell myself that, of course I matter. I tell everyone else in my life that they matter and they’re enough just as they are. But there is a tiny voice in my mind that feels loud. Just chanting, “You know you’re trash, people are lying to you. You know you do terrible things and have hurt other people. Just give up.”

    It reminds me of every mistake I’ve ever made. It attacks me with memories of my hurting someone with how I worded something or reminds me of someone who blocked me on social media, or just said, “I don’t like her because of xyz.”

    This feels immobilizing. By the time I am done with this thought process I cannot leave the living room chair I am sitting in. I pull a blanket up to my chin, curl up into a small ball, and start crying. “You’re right,” I say to myself. “You win. I should just give up.”

    My mind is spiraling with everything I have ever done that went unnoticed, that no one cared about. The essays I wrote that only a few people read. The points I made that were later recycled and went on to be successful once someone else made those same points that didn’t seem to matter when they came from me. And I have the overwhelming feeling that I deserved the bad reception, because I, too, am bad.

    Never mind that there are dozens of things that I’ve done that were greatly appreciated. That made a difference. That moved someone else enough to say, “This helped me.”

    Never mind that sometimes we can’t control algorithms, SEO, and the like.

    Never mind that sometimes you make a stupid spelling mistake even though you re-read your piece fourteen times. You just didn’t notice it, but people were turned off from the piece because of it.

    That’s the thing, being a mental health advocate, I feel like my whole purpose on some days as I struggle to get by is to hear someone say, “This helped me.” And if I helped no one, then why did I do it?

    But while I was busy worrying about who I have helped and if my helping got noticed, I may have forgotten to help myself.

    All the clichés, the putting on my own oxygen mask first, filling my own cup to fill others, they are reminders that I need on a daily basis, or I risk becoming my own victim.

    And honestly, to me, there is nothing worse than someone who is helping other people just to be a martyr. They continue toiling to help others but neglect themselves so that they can say, “I almost died doing things for other people.”

    Who are you useful to once dead, or even just burned out? The fight for mental health awareness and to end the stigma is long arduous. And if my goal really is to help others, to be there for the long haul, then I must find a reason to also do it for myself.

    That mean voice feels so loud, but suddenly an argument erupts in my mind.

    The other side finally feels empowered to speak because I kept pushing, although mentally exhausted, against the part of me that was convinced I deserve nothing. I told the quieter voice that it was okay if I messed up. That this doesn’t negate everything I have done that has helped someone, and yes, even if that was just one person. Even if it just helped me to get it out there into the universe.

    And really, the main thing is this: Everything we do doesn’t have to matter on a grand scale. It doesn’t have to leave others speechless. It doesn’t have to change the world. Just doing it is something to be proud of.

    Suddenly I feel a small sense of ease. I am tired from arguing with myself. I am tense from sitting in a tight ball with my jaw clenched this whole time. I unravel myself. I release my jaw. I inhale deeply and release more tension as I exhale. I choose to open up my laptop and write about what went on in my mind just now.

    If you’ve ever felt this way, like nothing you do matters and it’s never good enough—like you have to do more or be more so people will notice that you matter and you’re good enough—here’s what I’d like you to know:

    You are allowed to simply live. You are allowed to just be you. You are allowed to just exist and for that to be enough. You are allowed to be content with just breathing on some days. And you are allowed to be proud of yourself for wanting to help others, even if on some days it seems you’ve helped no one but yourself. It’s enough. You’re enough.

  • How 10 Minutes of Daily Meditation Can Calm Your Mind and Relax Your Body

    How 10 Minutes of Daily Meditation Can Calm Your Mind and Relax Your Body

    “Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of these things and still be calm in your heart.” ~Unknown

    I began the morning with a meditation. After taking my dog out and brewing the coffee, I sat in my sunny living room, my little dog Frankie nestled beside me. I perched cross-legged, a blue pillow on my lap for warmth. I closed my eyes and began to focus on my breath.

    When ten minutes passed, I raised my hands in appreciation. “Thank you for this day. Thank you for my family and for our health. Give me strength, wisdom, and love.” Then I extended my hands forward, “So that I may give strength, wisdom, and love.” Finally, I stretched both arms out sideways, wiggling my fingers in my peripheral vision, a reminder to be fully aware. This is how I start every day.

    It wasn’t always this way. My older brother Marc tried to get me to meditate when I was fourteen. Although he was a patient teacher, I didn’t understand the point of the exercise.

    “Let’s sit together. Close your eyes and concentrate on your breath.”

    “Why do I have to do this?

    “Just sit, Lise. It’s good for you to learn. We will do it together.”

    “OK, but why?”

    Marc tried, but I resisted. I stopped meditating as soon as he went back to college.

    Years later, as part of my psychology training, I took classes which touted meditation as a stress-reducing technique. During the classes, there were demonstrations which I always enjoyed. I sat back, breathed deeply, and felt a deep flow of relaxation inside me. But, back home, I had no follow-through. Once the classes were over, so was my meditation.

    My breakthrough into daily meditation happened in 2020, one of the few good things that arose from that dreadful year. I was home, virtually every minute of my life. I didn’t have to dash from of the house, brave traffic, and arrive at the office by 9:00. Mornings stretched more languidly. It was easier to find those ten minutes to breathe every morning.

    Now I sit every day. I scan through my body, noting points of tension, areas of pain and pressure. Simple awareness of the tension shifts any pain, and my body settles.

    My mind, free from my constant to-do lists, drifts along, as if floating on the waves of a gentle sea. I hear the sounds of the house around me, the heater outside, working mightily to warm our home; Frankie the dog beside me, sighing. My stomach muscles unclench. I notice thoughts drifting in. I don’t attend to them. The thoughts fade away. Peace.

    Of course, that’s when meditation goes well. Sometimes every minute slogs on. My scalps itches. “I forgot to return that phone call,” I think, and my body tenses into high alert. “Oh no, I have to write that woman back!” My throat tightens. “What if that editor doesn’t like my submission?” My stomach jams into a knot. I cannot let these thoughts go. “I suck at meditation. Why can’t I just breathe? When will these ten minutes be over?”

    Sometimes meditation goes like this. It isn’t always peaceful, and it doesn’t always feel good. The key, I’m told, is to keep at it. Like any skill, the more we practice, the better we get at it. It is no accident that we say one “practices meditation.” I didn’t get decent at writing in one year either.

    If you are like the fourteen-year-old me, you might be asking, why meditate at all? There are so many benefits I don’t even know where to begin; here is a partial list. Meditation…

    • Soothes anxiety: When you learn to focus the mind, your thoughts don’t spin off into anxious “what-ifs,” spiraling into anxious ruminations.
    • Calms anger: Focusing on breathing calms the mind, stopping our internal tirades over people who have wronged us.
    • Improves the immune system: The body is not designed to be in a constant “fight or flight” mode. When we are tense, our immune system works poorly. When we relax, our immune system resumes its work.
    • Lowers blood pressure: Meditation is a proven technique for improving hypertension.
    • Manages emotional reactivity: This is a big one. It is easy for me, sensitive soul that I am, to feel hurt and wounded by other people. Meditation allows me to detach from the provocations of the moment, and to tap into inner peace. Once I have calmed myself, I find freedom from reacting emotionally. I can bring more thoughtfulness and wisdom to my relationships.

    Happily, the benefits of meditation extend past the ten minutes into the whole day.

    Now that I practice regularly, I notice when my shoulders leap to attention. With mindfulness, I can lower those shoulders down.

    I notice when my stomach tenses up, and I can breathe that tension away.

    I notice when my mind anxiously swirls around my to-do list and I can tell my mind to relax.

    The awareness that comes from a regular ten-minute mediation follows me throughout my day, helping me stay calmer and more serene.

    A while ago, I was getting ready for a radio interview, as part of my recent book promotion. I had an hour to spare, and I thought I’d make a quick phone call to an insurance company.

    This “quick” phone call dragged into an infuriating forty minutes. I was on hold, listening to inane music, on some incessant torture loop. Finally, the customer service rep came on, but we had with a terrible connection. I could barely hear her, as she was undoubtedly on another continent, and I couldn’t understand her either.

    After a brief exchange, which I barely fathomed, she declared she couldn’t help me. I got off the phone in disgust.

    “I’m so aggravated! I just wasted an hour on the phone with this stupid company and now I have an interview in fifteen minutes. What a colossal waste of time! I have this radio interview and I am so upset I can barely think!”

    My husband gazed at me. “Why don’t you do your meditation thing?”

    I glared at him. I really just wanted to righteously complain. But my husband was right; I was a wreck.

    I sat in my bedroom and closed my eyes, focusing on my breath. Immediately I sensed my body’s distress. My heart rate was elevated. I breathed rapidly. My shoulders were raised and my stomach was in spasm.

    “My god,” I thought. “My body is completely dysregulated, all from one stupid phone call.”

    Quietly, I focused. I felt my muscles relaxing and my heart rate slowing. I ended the meditation, feeling like a different woman, and started the interview with a smile on my face.

    That is the power of a regular ten-minute meditation practice.

    Let’s be clear. Everyone, no matter how busy, has ten minutes to spare. You can do this, and build yourself a calmer, more peaceful life, in a healthier body.

    One final tip: it is best to find a regular time of day for your meditation practice. Do your breathing every morning, or every bedtime, or every evening after work. Otherwise, you will keep putting it off until later. If you are like me, you might even put it off for forty years.