Tiny Buddha

Category: Blog

  • How to Foster Gratitude If You Have a History of Childhood Abuse

    How to Foster Gratitude If You Have a History of Childhood Abuse

    “The pressure to be grateful kept me away from the more painful and real feelings of grief, anger, and abandonment. Growing up, gratitude was one more brick on the pile that kept all of the secrets of abuse in place. It was just one more thing that made me feel like being who I am, as I am, isn’t enough.” ~Vicki Peterson

    The pathway to gratitude for a person with developmental trauma is not always straightforward.

    You try your best and even purchased a journal specifically to try the ritual for yourself, but all you can think of to be thankful for is the usual stock stuff, like a roof over your head and your warm bed.

    Sometimes you think, “I should be grateful for this or that,” but your heart remains silent.

    If so, you’re not alone.

    Gratitude practice has become a part of self-development and therapy, but doling out “be grateful for what you have” advice to a traumatized person can make her feel worse.

    It happened to me, too. I tried, but the feeling wasn’t there, and the everlasting “something must be wrong with me” was banging in my head.

    Then one day I was walking along the fjord, watching the waves softly touching sandy shores. Consciously, I thought about how fortunate I was to live in this picturesque place, but wondered, “Why can’t I feel it?”

    “Your childhood holds the key.” The thought suddenly touched my mind and began to unroll like a serpentine ribbon thrown into the air.

    And it all started to make sense.

    Meet the Ungrateful Pig

    I grew up with an unhappy mother who struggled with a legacy of emotional abuse and personality disorder that had been running in her family for generations. A fragile feeling of self-worth, chronic anxiety, and depression kept her in the prison of a perpetual drama.

    She couldn’t cope in any other way than projecting her pain onto us—my dad and me. The people who loved her and whom she loved, too, in her own destructive way.

    Mom tried her best, and she never failed to satisfy our physical needs. She even sewed me bright dresses, when my friends wore the boring, shapeless outfits of our communist past. But the price was high: total obedience and gratitude, even for abuse.

    Be grateful that I gave you life. I nearly died! 

    Do you know how many children don’t have mothers, you ungrateful pig?!  

    Say thank you for not sending you to an orphanage.

    You have everything you need. Why can’t you just shut up and be grateful? 

    Was I grateful?

    Yes, I was, as my instincts advised. Mom not only minimized or dismissed my feelings and needs, she also wanted me to like the pain attached to the gratitude. Any gratitude I felt was therefore melted together with shame, anger, and hopelessness. That forced gratitude was abuse itself.

    And saying thank you, I felt violated to the core.

    I grew up and accepted my mother for who she was. I forgave her in time, but gratitude remained a stumbling block on my healing path. So, I shoved the journal to the back of my bookshelf, somewhere between Nietzsche and the South Beach Diet.

    How could I appreciate the word “gratitude” when even the meaning of it was lost to me? How could I trust myself, my experiences, and my feelings?

    Now I understood, but I still didn’t feel. Until last week.

    Let me explain.

    The Path to Gratitude Lies Through Curly Hair

    A week ago, I was chatting with my hairdresser while she handled my curly hair. It’s the type you’d think you set in perfect shape, and a moment later it turns into something else, like a pool of ink shifting at the slightest movement of paper.

    We talked about families and politics, then straight versus curly hair types, and she complimented mine. Unexpectedly, I felt grateful for the unruly hair I have: it fits my face so well.

    But I always knew that. What made the difference this time?

    Silke, my hairdresser, is one of the loveliest people I know. She’s genuine, kind, and funny, and I enjoy spending time with her. When she complimented my hair, I felt good not just about this physical part of me but about myself, too. At that moment, something shifted, and I finally moved from “I think” to “I feel.”

    I still have to put in some work to exercise it, but I finally know how gratitude feels.

    Nothing’s Wrong with You

    As a kid, you had no place to go and no strength to fight the adults in your life, so you hid your feelings to protect yourself. To feel again, you need to accept and own your unique experiences, both good and bad.

    You have to process those forbidden, muted emotions you still carry inside—sadness, anger, and shame—to make space for joy, compassion, and gratitude. To reconnect with your wise self and modify your perception of life.

    When you’re able to hold the good and the bad at the same time and see the other side of the events, you may feel gratitude for the strength of your resilience that helped you survive. Warmth toward someone who gave you love when your parent couldn’t. Be thankful for the compassionate and sensitive side of you that is attuned to others’ needs.

    But you don’t have to be grateful for pain.

    Gratitude Is Good for You

    Gratitude brings positivity, improves well-being, and gives your health a boost. Do you want that? Great, let’s go!

    Here’s what I want you to do. Pay attention to the things in your everyday life that make you feel good, and tune into your senses. Notice those subtle, but clear “here and now” sensations in your body—they are the vital parts of each experience you want to know.

    Notice how gentle the warm sun feels on your skin and how soothing the birds’ singing is.

    Feel the warmth in your chest when you look into the eyes of a child, and the bobbles in your belly when your lover holds you in his hands.

    Regard how the smell of a freshly baked bread takes you back to your happiest memories, and a subtle caramel taste of your favorite tea.

    Note a smile on your face in response to a friendly smile of a stranger passing by, or how good it feels when the evening breeze caresses your hair.

    Be aware of the sensation of sand stuck between your toes, and the rhythm of your breathing.

    Then, before bedtime, you can recapture these “here and now” sensations of joy, no matter how brief they were. Learn to pay attention to your surroundings and your body.

    For example, tonight I’ll go to bed feeling relaxed and joyful after spending a day with an old friend. We had a great time walking in the park, talking about things that matter to both of us, and revisiting shared memories. I’ll remember being listened to and understood and recall the sense of warmth in my chest. I’ll end my day on that authentic note of gratitude.

    There are many tiny things you can notice every day if you pay attention and exercise your awareness—they are the source of joy and gratitude. Zoom in to them!

    Learning to be aware of the moment and related bodily sensations take time and practice, but it’s worth it. It helps to recover the authentic feeling of gratitude and minimize the numbness many people with a developmental trauma are dealing with.

    You can do it!

  • The Power of Compassion: How to Make Do in an Unfair World

    The Power of Compassion: How to Make Do in an Unfair World

    “A good head and good heart are always a formidable combination. But when you add to that a literate tongue or pen, then you have something very special.” ~Nelson Mandela

    Ever thought, “Life is so unfair!”

    Is it, really?

    Has life given you circumstances that keep you in a deep, dark hole of disadvantages that seem impossible to clamber out of?

    Has life decided that you need to live in abject poverty and watch everyone in your life suffer from being denied everything a human needs to be human?

    Has life put you in a position where you wouldn’t dare to dream of something better, for yourself, for your family, about anything, ever?

    My story is specifically about my home, Cape Town, South Africa.

    A place so breathtaking, it reminds you constantly that a higher power must truly exist.

    A place filled with the friendliest people, with a strong sense of family and community.

    People who smile easily and see the bright side of even the darkest realities.

    And, under it all, we have all been touched by the far-reaching hand of hardship.

    Elders have seen extreme poverty and prejudice, while raising large families as best they could under unrelenting circumstances.

    Families have lost loved ones in struggles for a better world at the southernmost point of the African continent.

    And the struggle continues.

    In 2020, the struggle persists.

    Sixty million voices go unheard every single day, with a slew of injustices hurled at them every so often, for good measure.

    Senior citizens have no means to support their modest lives, and no one to care for their needs.

    Unfair, with a lifetime of regrets.

    Able-bodied, competent, grown men and women are forgotten by the system, and left as easy prey to life-shattering temptations.

    Unfair, with daily desperation.

    With an unemployment rate pushing 30%, what will they do, and what will become of them and their families?

    The youth stare a bleak future straight in the face.

    Unfair, with overwhelming depression.

    Children lack the little they need to blossom into the future of this world.

    Unfair, with blissful oblivion.

    How long must they be happy in the little they all have?

    Every family has a story to tell.

    And sadly, the vast majority all sound like a broken record, playing the same tune over and over again.

    My family’s story is no different.

    Grew up in poverty, shared a home with ten other people, had very little to eat, had no gas or electricity, no vehicle, walked long distances in harsh conditions just to get to school every day, no telephone, no television, no appliances, no hot water, problematic plumbing in an outhouse, no healthcare, no dental care, one pair of shoes per person, worn until their soles were irreparable, clothes made from offcuts by the matriarch of the family, left school before the age of fourteen, helped support the family by taking on manual labor, stayed home to take care of eight to fourteen growing children…

    And the list of unimaginable challenges goes on.

    Sounds like a village situated in the remote parts of an undiscovered jungle somewhere, forgotten by time and progress.

    Yet, they survived.

    And tragically, so did the circumstances.

    In the age of social media, digital business, and limitless telecommunications, harsh circumstances still exist.

    While some miraculously overcame unbelievable odds, beat the system, and thrived, others were left at the mercy of history chasing its tail in a vicious cycle.

    And today, millions of people in South Africa still live this way, with no way to step out of the madness.

    As a kid, I remember both my mother and grandmother employing domestic workers who lived in an informal settlement (either with their families, or apart from their families who lived in a faraway state), in a makeshift dwelling that could go up in smoke, literally, at any moment, from a neglected candle.

    As an adult, I do the same as my mom and gran before me, and the very same set of criteria exists that has existed for four whole decades.

    No one has come to the rescue.

    Delving into the lives of those loyal domestic workers, it is not hard to imagine that the younger generations of their families walk the paths they always have.

    Unfair, hopelessly so.

    Same story goes for the gardeners, and brick layers, and handymen, and janitors, and security guards, and petrol attendants (who?), and car guards (huh?), and caretakers, and garbage collectors, and…

    But wait, there’s more. Devastatingly, there’s more.

    Add to the list, that layer of society who, until now, have managed to live marginally above the breadline (living pay check to pay check) and have a relatively “comfortable” life, who have now lost their gainful employment and don’t know where to start to earn a living wage to keep their families fed, clothed, and cared for.

    How do they get to win and rise above these life-altering, unexpected curveballs?

    The only immediately viable solution for them all that I can see is compassion, kindness, and generosity.

    Compassion from others, kindnesses from strangers, generosity of family and friends.

    And let me just assure you right now, in case you’ve ever wondered, that there is enough to go around on this magnificent planet.

    Interest in the well-being of others—the children, the youth, the family men and women, the seniors.

    Thankfully, this place called Cape Town has scores of beautiful people who practice compassion as a part of everything they do.

    Parents and siblings protect each other from the wolves at the door.

    People make the best of their dire conditions, and are grateful for all that they have, even if all they have is their health.

    Families and friends check that their family members and friends are “okay.”

    And would you believe that, even though you now know almost everyone’s story, they’ll do all that they can to convince you that they actually are okay?

    There’s a term for that: “making do.”

    They make do with what they have, they make do with what has been given to them, they make do with what they receive, they make do with what you can spare them, they make do with how they live, they make do with what they get paid for their hard, often physical, work. They make do.

    Their dignities are intact, in their minds at least, if not in reality.

    Unfair, to you and I, definitely.

    To them, it’s just life.

    And it’s in all of our hands.

  • How to Survive Hard Times: 5 Lessons from Volunteering in a Hospital

    How to Survive Hard Times: 5 Lessons from Volunteering in a Hospital

    “Once we accept our limits, we go beyond them.” ~Albert Einstein

    Why do you want to do it? It was a question I was asked repeatedly by friends before I started my volunteering placement in a spinal injuries unit, the uncertainty in their eyes reflecting back their own fears around life-altering disability.

    It was difficult to put into words what drew me to becoming a patient support volunteer. I was content in my job, had an active social life, hiked and swam every weekend, but still there was something missing. My own life felt sheltered, and I wanted to feel part of a bigger world where I could make a difference no matter how small.

    So every Monday night I would dash out of work early, change into my volunteer t-shirt, scrub my hands, and join the nursing staff on the evening shift.

    My first night walking the long, hospital corridors, I felt real trepidation. What would I say to someone facing paralysis? How would it feel to be told you’ll never walk again? My own worst fears played out as I passed rooms filled with wheelchairs and complex lifting paraphernalia. How would I cope in their shoes?

    My job was to befriend and support patients who were frequently far from friends and family. I quickly learned that the smallest gestures can make the biggest difference.

    Turning the pages of a book, reaching for a cardigan, sucking on a straw are simple gestures that we all take for granted—until you have a spinal injury. In typical British fashion, I would also make endless cups of tea while listening to tales of long, gruelling days in the rehabilitation center.

    And never once did I hear anyone complain—rehabilitation was viewed as a precious opportunity to regain control of their lives. In their journey toward independence, I would delight in each small step of progress. Going from sitting to standing up was a huge victory, like climbing Mount Everest with an equivalent emotional high.

    Through the ups and downs of rehabilitation, I learned that nothing is certain with spinal injuries. People who are told that they may never walk again sometimes defeat the odds. And what is possible is often far more than what’s not possible.

    From the first tentative steps, their journey progressed to the first tentative outings to cafes and restaurants. I was struck by the steely determination my patients showed in navigating the complex logistics of a world designed with only the interests of the able-bodied in mind.

    So much of my own fearful attitude toward disability, I realized, had been colored by negative societal stereotypes. Wheelchairs symbolized confinement when in reality they provided much longed-for independence.

    Patients are not objects of pity. Nor are they the heroic figures portrayed in the media. They are ordinary people gradually adjusting to changed circumstances—a capability that we all have within us.

    Supporting people in such life-changing circumstances put all of my own struggles into perspective. Worries about jobs, money, and relationships shrivelled to miniscule proportions. I felt a profound sense of gratitude for my own mobility—something that I’d always taken for granted but which I was starkly reminded can be taken from me at a moment’s notice.

    My volunteering experience gave me a whole new perspective on life and taught me a handful of powerful lessons about surviving hard times, including…

    1. It’s not what happens to us, it’s how we respond.

    None of my patients were responsible for what happened to them, but they all took responsibility for how they responded. Our attitude to adversity is everything and ultimately shapes our thoughts, feelings, and actions.

    Life will always throw up challenges and we have very little control over them. The only thing we can control is our response. We can choose to be a victim and remain powerless or we can face situations head-on and choose to live the very best life we can.

    That choice is always within our control and determines what sort of life we ultimately live, irrespective of our circumstances.

    2. We’re all more adaptable than we think.

    Time and again, I was reminded that we can adapt to the very worst that life throws at us. We’re designed to withstand trauma and have an innate ability to not give up.

    Coming to terms with life-altering injuries is a gradual process of adjustment where we learn that sometimes our beliefs do not always match reality.

    Few things in life turn out to be as bad as we imagine them to be. What at the beginning appears impossible gradually becomes manageable as we adjust and adapt to a new normal.

    Some doors close but new doors open. It may not be the life we’d planned, but it is what we choose to make it.

    3. How you feel today isn’t how you’ll feel tomorrow.

    How we respond emotionally to a life-changing situation can rapidly change from day to day.
    I would worry about patients who were in despair one week only to find that their attitude had changed the following week.

    In life, we encounter many dark nights of the soul, where in the intensity of the moment, life can feel completely hopeless.

    But if we hold on until the next day things can change. An incremental shift in our thinking, a gradual acceptance, or a sudden change in our circumstances can radically alter how we view our situation from one day to the next.

    “It won’t always feel like this” is a mantra that always rings true no matter what situation we’re in or where we are in our life’s journey.

    4. Take small steps forward each day.

    Rehabilitation is all about gaining mastery of your situation.

    Patients were encouraged to take small steps each day toward greater independence. When you’ve suddenly lost your mobility, each step you take is filled with trepidation.

    But when we’re immobilized, taking action is the only way forward. The first step is the hardest but leads to the next and the one after that until you’re finally on your way.

    When faced with life’s difficulties, the only way out is through.

    5. Be patient.

    One of the most frustrating things about a spinal injury is not knowing how long recovery will take.
    Some patients set their sights on set calendar dates and would suffer frustration and disappointment when the outcome did not meet their expectations.

    Patience is a lifelong skill that puts us in control of our situation by allowing us to mindfully experience the journey toward a positive outcome.

    By not putting timeframes on our expectations, we can simply observe the different learnings along the way and live more peacefully in the present knowing that we will reach our destination when the time is right.

    —

    Volunteering in a spinal injuries unit has expanded my horizons in ways I never expected and has given me a new perspective on life-altering disability. My patients have shown me that it is possible to move far beyond the limits that are imposed upon you to make the most of the life you still have.

  • Dear Childhood Friends, Thank You and I Miss You

    Dear Childhood Friends, Thank You and I Miss You

    “Sweet is the memory of distant friends. Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.” ~Washington Irving

    Why is it that the older we seem to get the more and more we miss friendships from days long past?

    You know the ones…

    The friendships where you felt 100% happiness being in their presence.

    Where you felt as if you could be your true self—goofy, silly, honest, and real.

    Where you would get lost in conversations, imagination, and being fully present in the moment.

    Where you went on adventures, told them your secrets, and laughed until your bellies hurt.

    They knew you, and you knew them, and it just… clicked.

    You swore you would be BFF’s forever, maybe even got one of those adorable half-heart necklaces, but somehow along the journey your paths drifted.

    You wonder what happened; but you know what happened. Life happened. They went one way, you went another. 

    Leaving a sadness in your heart, you may or may not have been aware of at the time, because life simply went on.

    You met other friends, classmates, co-workers, acquaintances, and as you began to juggle all things life, career, and family the years passed by.

    Until one day, a photo of them pops in your social feed and the floodgates open up as you reminisce on the memories of a simpler time.

    Remembering how important that person was to you.

    How their friendship helped shape who you are today.

    How you truly were 100% yourself around them before life experiences dimmed your essence.

    You think about how much you miss that person in your life.

    About how you wish you hadn’t let the bond of friendship drift as your heart literally hurts.

    You think about reaching out to say hi. To tell them how important they were in your life. How grateful you are for the friendship you shared. 

    That you miss it.

    That you miss them.

    But you fear it would be weird.

    Justifying to yourself:

    They are too busy.

    They have their own life.

    It has been “too long.”

    And as your mind talks your heart out of reaching out, you breathe a heavy sigh and keep scrolling.

    —

    We have all had these friendships.

    And maybe not just one.

    At various stages in our lives we have those special friendships that go that ‘next level.’

    Whether it was your childhood friends, high school friends, college friends…

    There is something about the bond of growing through a time of transition with someone that creates an unshakable foundation.

    And it is not until you find yourself lost in the throes of adulting, longing for connection, that true-authentic-next-level connection that you reminisce and reflect on how special those bonds truly were. 

    Because no one tells you, when you transition into adulthood, parenthood, and midlife how badly you will miss those friendships more than you ever knew was possible.

    How creating authentic, soul-connecting friendships seems to be harder than it once was.

    And how these special friendships will forever be embedded in your heart.

    If you are like most, you may look back and feel some regrets.

    Regret for letting those friendships drift.

    Regret for not saying the things you wanted to say, or saying the things you wish you didn’t say.

    Regret you did not tell them how important they were to you and how they have shaped who you are today.

    Regret for not recognizing the specialness of the bond you shared.

    But the thing is, it is not too late.

    To tell that friend how much they meant to you.

    To apologize for something that you may still regret.

    To tell them how much you valued them.

    To tell them how much you cherished all of the laughs, the trials and tribulations and memories which were made.

    Because although you both may have grown separate ways through life, your roots are forever entwined. 

    So today, I challenge you to choose love.

    To choose bravery.

    To choose vulnerability.

    To choose connection…. re-connection.

    If you have a friend who’s been on your mind but have been hesitant to reach out and tell them how much they impacted your life, tag them in this post. Send them a little note. Add them on one of your social media platforms. Reach out and let them know you are thinking of them with no expectations, but simply to share a smile, a memory, a reminder of how much you value them.

    For what I would give to have one more conversation with one of my best friends who is no longer here.

    To tell her how much I admired her resilience, her dedication, her strong morals.

    To tell her I’m sorry for not being a good friend when I was consumed with my inner demons.  

    To thank her for some of the best memories I could have asked for.

    To tell her I valued her friendship, honesty and love more than anything and I only hope my daughter can have a friendship like we had.

    To thank her for giving me an empathetic ass kicking when I was in the throes of an eating disorder and binge drinking and saving my life.

    Be brave.

    Choose love.

    Choose connection.

    “Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I’m glad for that.” ~Ally Condie

  • 7 Awesome Things That Happened When I Started Surfing at 55

    7 Awesome Things That Happened When I Started Surfing at 55

    “It’s never too late for a new beginning in your life.” ~Joyce Meyer

    I sat on the beach, watching the sandpipers skittering back and forth, pecking at the water’s edge. A dead horseshoe crab washed back and forth in the surf.

    Finished at fifty-five, I thought. I’m as useless as that poor crab.

    Several years ago I was laid off after thirty-three years at a Fortune 500 company. “Workforce rebalancing” was the term they used, but for me it simply meant a month’s severance pay and colleagues solemnly shaking my hand. Hand over your badge… there’s the door, good luck.

    Much of my identity and self-worth had been invested in my career. I had received awards and affirmation from managers and peers. I was the “go-to” person for answers. I helped shape company policy. To be summarily ejected was jarring and unsettling, like being on a spacewalk and having your lifeline cut.

    So I had retreated to my happy place, the beach. Being by the water, watching the endless waves, the wheeling gulls, always had a calming effect on me. But this time was different; I felt unfulfilled, restless. Something was missing.

    A plane droned by, pulling a banner ad: “Learn to surf—North End Surf Shop.”

    Perhaps it was some sort of reactionary thing to being given the boot, but suddenly the idea of surfing seemed very intriguing. Why not? I had body surfed. I had ridden a boogie board. What would it be like to ride a surfboard? I had seen kids doing it. Could I do it at fifty-five? 

    Before my saner side prevailed, I drove to the surf shop. I went inside and a kid about seventeen was behind the counter. Here was the quintessential surfer: long blond hair, deeply tanned with a Hawaiian shirt. “Hey,” he said amiably.

    I said I wanted to take a surf lesson. He looked at me for a long moment and seemed on the serge of saying something. “Sure,” he was all he finally said. I filled out some paperwork, noting the release of liability form, and he handed me a waterproof shirt. “Just go out there,” he said, indicating the back door. “They’re just starting.”

    As I approached the class, pulling on my shirt, the instructors and students looked at me with curiosity. Some of the kids said stuff behind their hands. What was I doing? I was easily thirty years older than the oldest student. I was in pretty good shape, but I had some stiffness and aches and nowhere near as spry and agile as these kids.

    We learned the basics on the beach—how to lay on the board, how to paddle, how to pop up (jump from a prone to a squatting position). I noticed the kids were much better than me at the pop up.

    I learned that there were better times to surf depending on the tides and wind. The sea was fairly calm that day with waves about waist high. We all entered the water.

    I laid on my board and my instructor, Blake, towed me out. Our boards were the “soft top” variety, made of soft foam, nine feet long, three fins and internal stiffeners. They were not as hard as the standard fiberglass surfboard, and safer in the event of a wipeout.

    We stopped when we were about 100 yards out. Blake was treading water and the waves seemed much bigger on the board than they did from the beach. I pushed the theme from Jaws out of my head.

    “Okay,” Blake said. “When a wave comes, I’m gonna push you. I want you to paddle as hard as you can. When you feel the wave has you, pop up. OK?”

    “OK,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt.

    Blake held the board as several waves raised, then lowered me. Too big, or too small. ““OK,” Blake said. “Here comes one. Get ready…OK…ready? Here goes! Paddle!” He shoved me and the board lurched forward.

    I began paddling, holding my head up as I had been shown. Back and forth, one side, then the other. Blake shouted encouragement from behind me. “Dig, dig, dig!” he yelled. “Paddle! Paddle!”

    I felt the wave catch me and I popped up. But something was wrong–the nose of the board was dropping. It dug into the water and I flew forward, landing on my face. I flipped the board over, and paddled back out to Blake.

    “Hey no worries,” he said. “We call that pearling. You were too far forward. It’s a common beginner mistake.”

    We tried several more times, with several more episodes of pearling, as well as missing the wave, falling off the board, or blowing the popup. I began to feel frustrated, foolish. I should be back sitting with the dead crab, not out here with a bunch of teenagers who by now were popping up and yelling to each other.

    Finally, a wave came and everything fell into place. I popped up, wobbled, almost lost my balance…. but suddenly I was standing on my board.

    In an instant I became acutely aware of all that was going on around me: The wave breaking beneath my board; me, standing, moving with the wave. The beach, far off, beyond the tops of other waves. The offshore wind blowing spray off the wave crests.

    Blake was faintly shouting encouragement far behind me. It was a feeling unlike anything I had ever experienced, as though all me senses were suddenly heightened. My peripheral vision seemed acutely sharp; I was aware of all the was happening around me.

    Oh man, I thought. This is AWESOME. Why didn’t I try this sooner?

    In the time left in my lesson, I screwed up many more times, but I also stood a few times as well, with the same feeling. I was hooked. Surfing was simply the most fun thing I had ever done.

    Since that day, I have bought my own board, taken several more lessons, and am getting better each time I go out. Surfing has changed my lifestyle in a number of ways.

    1. Surfing got me back into the gym.

    To be a good surfer, you need good core strength as well as strong quads, chest, arm and upper back muscles. These are all essential to paddle, do the pop up, and support yourself once you’re standing.

    I went to my gym after a long absence and asked about developing a program specifically tailored for my new passion. One of the staff reviewed some YouTube clips I sent. He saw how people did it and took particular note of the pop up. He customized a routine for me.

    The popup is the hardest part. You’re supposed to start laying prone with your hands next to your chest. You push yourself up and bring your dominant foot between your hands and leave your other foot further back. Once stabilized, you rise up. When you become proficient, you do this in one seamless motion.

    2. My surfing workout gave my workout purpose.

    My routine had me grunting, doing pushups on a bosu ball to develop stability and my triceps. Lunges helped build quads, I focused on my back with the pull-down latte. There was a machine for my delts. I had to set the beginning weight at a level I’m embarrassed to report, but gradually increased it as I gained strength.

    None of it was easy, none of it was fun. But I found there’s a world of difference between simply exercising and exercising for a purpose. Every pushup, every lunge, every grunt meant that my next time in the water would make my experience that much better. It made all the difference in the world.

    3. Yoga? Surely you jest.

    No, seriously. Blake had recommended taking yoga for flexibility and balance. I realized if I was ever gonna plant my foot at the centerline, I needed flexibility: Hamstrings, hip flexors, quads. There was a class offered at my gym. My first class was not unlike my surfing lesson.

    We started out with downward dog. Being a complete novice, I had no idea what this meant. I watched the instructor and the people around me. Geez… that guy’s head is much lower than mine… my legs are bent. The instructor gently speaks: Now let’s go into pigeon. Now plank. Wait, what? I was hopelessly lost

    I studied the poses on YouTube. By the next class, I was able to keep up…. sort of. Gradually, eventually, I could move with the class and from there, I concentrated on doing the positions correctly to gain greatest flexibility and balance.

    4. Eating junk food does not help me advance as a surfer.

    I had noticed at North End that Blake and all the other surfing instructors were all munching on apples, nuts, trail mix. As I researched how to advance in my new passion, I learned the importance of a healthy diet. Protein, obviously, to help build muscle mass, but also lots of fruits and veggies.

    My goal was to advance to the seamless popup, which required an explosive push up… enough air to swing your feet under your chest and waist in the blink of an eye. Twinkies, my beloved Bavarian cream donuts, Oreos—they all had to go.

    I found the surfer’s diet wheel that outlined the best balance of veggies, protein, carbs, fruits and so forth. I changed my diet accordingly. Result: More stamina when paddling to get out past where the waves were breaking, quicker turns when I saw a wave coming. Better shape out of the water as well.

    5. Surfing gives me a sense of community.

    Like any sport, surfing has rules. Safety: Know your limits, don’t surf alone. Equipment: Use the board that’s right for you and/or the wave conditions. Etiquette: Don’t be a wave hog and take off on a wave when the person next to you was waiting longer and it was his or her turn.

    Ignore the rules and risk being known as a “kook” and shunned by the locals. Know the rules, and you’re generally accepted. After a while, you can tell who’s out by their boards and/or their style: How they pop up, how they turn, if they are regular or goofy foot.

    Waiting out past where the waves break, bobbing up and down—this is known as the line up. As you’re waiting for the right wave, it’s generally acceptable to engage in small talk. It’s understood that conversation may suddenly be broken off if your companion sees a choice swell coming.

    In and out of the water, if you’re there enough, you develop friendships. The better surfers are usually very helpful in helping you advance, providing tips and tricks to get you past rough spots.

    6. Surfing builds my self-confidence.

    Surfing presents the challenges of wave selection, timing, and proper paddling. Ideally, your wave will just be rising into a hump, you start to paddle and by the time it breaks, you’re standing. However, sometimes the wave is “pitchy”—it breaks quickly—and it’s almost cresting when it reaches you.

    You need to make a split-second decision: Do I go for it…or let it go? Most of the time, the beginning surfer says no way, paddles backward, and the wave continues by in a thundering break.

    Going for it requires nerves and commitment. Once you start paddling, there’s no turning back. You need to paddle hard, and taking off on the face of even a smallish wave as the board is tilting down can be hair raising.

    The natural inclination is safety—hell no, I’m not taking this wave. But you need to just go for it, eschew self-preservation, ignore the internal voices that scream Nooo!      

    Once you’ve taken the plunge, the exhilaration of not besting nature, but working with it, being a part of the wave is phenomenal. That moment, that abandonment of reason, is addicting.

    7. Surfing fosters spirituality.

    It’s difficult to be anxious, stressed, or depressed when you surf. A good diet and regular exercise are natural mood boosters and the self-confidence that the sport builds are great good stress busters.

    For me, there’s something about the ocean that is extraordinarily calming. It’s a gigantic emotional sponge that sucks all away all my negativity. I’ve had awesome conversations with God while sitting out in the lineup, gently moving up and down with the waves, looking at the far-off beach. Sometimes dolphins swim by so closely you can hear and see the spray from their blowhole.

    * * * *

    For me, the pivotal moment was seeing the banner ad on the plane as I sat on the beach. I had two choices at that point: Wistfully watch the plane disappear out of sight; or act, take a leap of faith, risk embarrassment but try something new, something challenging.

    I’m glad I chose the latter. At the time, I didn’t know if I would be successful. I really doubted it. All I knew was I had to try. Now I have a new circle of friends who share a common passion. I’m in better shape, I’m less stressed, and I’m in the zone when I’m bobbing up and down waiting for my next wave.

    “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do,” said Mark Twain. “So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

    Dream. What could be your thing?

  • How to Create a Healthy and Lasting Romantic Relationship

    How to Create a Healthy and Lasting Romantic Relationship

    “You cannot create a conscious relationship with someone who isn’t committed to doing their work. But you can create a better relationship with yourself, and sometimes that looks like releasing yourself from the idea that you can change another person or convince them to grow. Choose yourself.” ~Sheleana Aiyana

    What are the ingredients that make a loving, romantic relationship flow and sustain for many years? And what kind of love/relationship is best for long-term success?

    These questions have been at the core of my pursuits personally and professionally for some years now, and let’s face it, these questions are at the forefront of most of our minds given the high divorce rate. So, when I fell in love last year, I knew I was about to embark on a transformational journey.

    I met a woman. And for the first time in my life, I thought I’d met “the one.”

    I had never previously had feelings or thoughts like that before, at least not to the extent I experienced them at the time. It was that passionate, physical, chemistry-rich, soul-connected kind of love. But, as the months carried on, there were disagreements, arguments, different views and perspectives on many topics, and old habitual patterns and insecurities that were affecting our ability to create the relationship we had both claimed we wanted. 

    After less than a year, we came to the existential crossroad every couple before us in the history of humanity has navigated their way to at one point or another in their romantic relationship:

    Do we blame the other for how we feel and what we experience, call it quits, and move on because it is too hard and difficult to face it all?

     Or…

    Do we fight for this? Do we work for this? Do we take responsibility for our individual experience of life—and face all of the wounds from childhood and previous relationships that are being projected into and triggered by this relationship—together, in the container of this relationship so we can come out stronger together and healed?

    Ultimately, after some mutual and non-mutual “we’re in and we’re out” for a month or two, I opted wholeheartedly for the former, while my partner opted for the latter.

    While I was unequivocally heartbroken, frustrated, and angry, I was also able to find real compassion for her and her decision. The work, energy, and courage it requires to face a lifetime of inner pain and trauma are immense. It is far less work to simply blame others, past and present, for how we feel and experience life.

    It is the kind of mirror only that type of relationship can offer, and it can be absolutely terrifying at times. Although I perceived the situation as a beautiful chance to heal and grow together, I understood where she was in her healing process and how she perceived the situation, so I understood why she chose to walk away.

    But this is when I realized the difference between a healthier long-term relationship that lasts and the more unhealthy or short-lived relationships that don’t.

    Relationships of any kind, but especially intimate and romantic, are no small undertaking. We come to each other with completely different life experiences, upbringings, personalities, backgrounds, cultures, beliefs, wants, desires, needs, traumas, attachment patterns, etc. And for some crazy reason we expect it all to flow and for love to naturally sustain itself, or we deem our partner the wrong person when it doesn’t.

    I believe relationships are innately complex:

    From a soul perspective, we have our karmic energy to work out and deep life lessons to learn from our partners and relationships.

    From a biopsychosocial standpoint, we have hormones and chemicals firing, coupled with a history of attachment schemas from our childhood caregivers.

    From a physical perspective, we have sexual wants, needs, desires, fantasies, and blocks.

    From an emotional perspective, we each have in us masculine and feminine energies that crave love, intimacy, freedom, expression, safety, and polarity. And we can throw in different love languages as well.

    This is why romantic relationships that have the right foundational ingredients are, potentially, one of the greatest containers for challenge, growth, healing, and unconditional love we can experience as humans. They are amazing mirrors for our edges and our trauma on the deepest levels, due to the complex processes going on at all times. They provide a constant opportunity to heal and be healed.

    The question is, will we choose to recognize these edges, patterns, and wounds, and if so, what will we choose to do with this awareness?

    Behind the complexity and at the core of it all, I learned that building and sustaining a lasting, healthy romantic relationship doesn’t depend on having everything in common or seeing eye to eye on everything. At the core, the relationship has to be anchored, by both partners, in a foundation of consciousness and love.

    So what is a conscious relationship? What does that mean?

    Both partners agree to commit and unite in love through being open and conscious enough to recognize their individual habitual patterns and the trauma being triggered by one another. And they face them head-on as a team so that they can heal individually and thus be more conscious and capable in how they bring love, intimacy, depth, and beyond to one another in any given moment.

    The 5 Foundational Pillars of a Lasting, Love-Filled, Conscious Relationship

    1. They need to be the right person.

    We can debate all day about what that means objectively in relation to the aspects above, but we each know when we are with someone we can’t keep our hands off of, we think about all the time, we visualize a future with, and we simply can’t imagine not by our side. Simply put, we are in love, and we know it.

    Important to note: This means we also need to be acutely aware and conscious of our own unhealthy patterns in partners, what is healthy for us and who/what is unhealthy for us. If you feel they are the wrong person or “something is just missing” and you can’t put your finger on it, you need to look in the mirror at your attachment patterns and wounds before blaming them for their shortcomings.

    If you have truly done this, and you feel it isn’t something that needs to be healed or worked through personally, it likely means they simply aren’t the right partner for you. Even if they check a lot of the boxes on paper and you have deep love for them.

    At the end of the day, you have to trust your heart and your higher self, even if it doesn’t logically make sense. But for the love of god, don’t trust your ego or patterns. It is really easy to mistake the two.

    2. You don’t need to have everything in common and like all of the same things.

    In fact, not liking all of the same things or being the same person means you will be challenged to go outside of your comfort zone consistently. This is a beautiful opportunity to explore yourself, explore your partner, challenge yourself, and try new things in the world you otherwise never would have tried. And the research shows that this adventurous, on-your-toes mentality keeps the spark alive. So, be different. Differences can actually be better for the relationship.

    3. You don’t need to be at the same levels of growth and personal development.

    We weren’t. But both partners need to be open and committed to doing whatever it takes to be a healthier and more healed partner, individually. And likely for one partner this will be easier or harder and less or more natural. But it is a crucial conscious choice, nonetheless.

    4. You don’t need to be perfect in the relationship or be in the perfect relationship.

    You don’t need to be the perfect dream partner and have healed all of your stuff, and neither does your partner.

    I wasn’t perfect in the relationship, and neither was she. I wasn’t fully healed, and neither was she. But I realized this didn’t matter; what mattered was how consistently and consciously we questioned our beliefs, perceptions, and patterns and strived to be and do better for ourselves and the relationship out of love and respect for one another. Which brings me to the last and most important foundational pillar at number five…

    5. Both partners need to be equally committed to looking at themselves first and foremost.

    They have to be willing to do whatever they can to become more aware of the projections, wounds, and trauma that are limiting the amount of love, intimacy, and healing energy they bring to each moment, and to the relationship as a whole.

    Then from this conscious space they have to engage in the work, as a couple, to heal and grow together while staying deeply committed and devoted to the container of the relationship. Put simply, they both need to want it and be willing to do what it takes. This is where we as a couple really broke down.

    At the end of the day, every romantic relationship, and every interaction and moment with another human being for that matter, is an opportunity to help heal one another or an opportunity to wound one another further.

    We can consciously choose courage, humility, and a deep commitment to the love and the circle of the relationship by remaining open-hearted and expressing and owning our hurt in the face of our wounds being triggered; or we can cower and blame other(s) and situations, close our hearts, say and do hurtful things, and run away—only continuing the cycle of wounds and trauma and ensuring the same relationship patterns with any new partners we bring into our lives.

    It is also extremely important to note that not everyone is ready for this type of conscious relationship. Frankly, most people are not. And this is why the majority of relationships and marriages that could last don’t.

    You might not be ready, or maybe your partner isn’t. You can try and try to get on the same footing, but if someone you love simply isn’t in that conscious space or isn’t ready to at least try and do the real work and take responsibility for their experience, pushing them over and over becomes abusive. And this is something I had to realize and make peace with in my relationship.

    No matter how hard it is to accept because of how much we may love them, we have to know when it is time to release someone and wish them well on their own unique healing journey.

    We have to know when to move on from someone who isn’t capable of or willing to put in the work and effort, at this point in their journey, to create a healthy, conscious relationship and to heal themselves at that level.

    And while letting that person go will be one of the most difficult things you’ll ever do—it was for me —it is also the only healthy and loving choice one can make in that situation. For yourself and for them.

    We must keep faith and know that someone just as amazing, who is ready to do the work and be a conscious and devoted partner, will eventually come into our life. I truly believe this will happen for me and everyone on this planet that wants it, as long as we are committed to becoming more conscious, more loving, and doing our own deep inner work.

  • If You Think Contentment Will Make You Lazy and Unproductive

    If You Think Contentment Will Make You Lazy and Unproductive

    “To be content doesn’t mean you don’t desire more, it means you’re thankful for what you have and patient for what’s to come.” ~Tony Gaskins

    There’s a thought I want to share with you that used to keep me up at night.

    It’s a toxic idea that caused me stress and burnout and actually got in the way of my productivity and creativity (and more importantly, my happiness).

    Nevertheless, I hung onto it, and eventually came to see that it wasn’t just me. It was actually prevalent in many developed societies.

    The thought went something like this: If I accept who I am, where I am, and what I have, then I will become unproductive and lazy.

    Unconsciously, it boiled down to the following misconception: acceptance = contentment = laziness.

    A few years ago, I may not have admitted to you that I believed this, but I certainty acted as if it were true. I was by no means lazy; I was self-motivating and self-employed, working day in and day out. But at the end of the day, no matter how much I had “achieved,” no matter how many things were crossed off the to-do list, I would still find myself sitting at home with two thoughts.

    1. I didn’t do enough today.

    2. I need to do more tomorrow.

    These thoughts never allowed me to truly relax, and this caused a cycle of anxiety and tension. At some point, like many of us, I came across the idea and practice of self-acceptance. But no matter how much I tried to tell myself that everything was okay, I simply couldn’t feel that this was true. I couldn’t shake the thoughts about not having done enough, not being enough, not being content with the moment.

    Unsurprisingly, this was terrible for my mental health.

    Finally, I was talking about this with a friend of mine, and they casually asked me the following question.

    “What would having done enough actually look like to you?”

    And then it dawned on me. I had absolutely no idea. In truth, there was no such thing as enough—it was a constantly moving target. “Having done enough” was just a vague notion I used to fuel this myth of anxious productivity that I’d bought into.

    I didn’t need to be anxious to be productive, I didn’t need to be productive to be content, and being content would not make me lazy.

    I even started to realize that the opposite was true. When I accepted whatever was happening, I would be more content, and when I was more content, I would have more energy and confidence, which translated to more productivity.

    Humans are creatures of habit, and it was ritual and routine—not fear and anxiety—that would determine what I achieved. The worry that had driven my life for years was a complete falsehood!

    I’ve learned it’s possible to be both content and productive—no anxiety required. Here’s how.

    5 Ways to Be Content and Productive

    1. Start small.

    If you’re stuck in the habit of feeling you never do enough, don’t try and challenge it all at once. Try letting go of your attachment to a couple of ideas and see where it gets you. For example, maybe you feel that relaxation is something you only deserve on days where you’ve completed your to-do list. You could reframe this so relaxation is something on your to-do list that is a priority rather than a bonus.

    2. Run an experiment.

    If you’re convinced that feeling content with some aspect of your life could be detrimental, why don’t you try it out?

    Why don’t you try a week where you don’t stress yourself out about eating clean, going to the gym, or working on some non-essential project. Record what you do anyway, then compare the difference in outcome between weeks where you are allowed to feel content regardless of whether you meet all your expectations, and weeks where you anxiously push yourself. You may find that you do more than you expected you would without the internal pressure.

    After a while you may also find that your sense of contentment doesn’t hinge upon your day-to-day achievements—but if it does, then maybe you need to look at reward-based motivations, rather than punishment-based motivations.

    3. Focus on the process and not the outcome.

    This is time-tested wisdom, but it’s not always easy to follow. Think about it as a value you have, rather than something you do or a skill you acquire. To value the process over the outcome is to place your attention on what you are doing rather than why you are doing it.

    Fixating on the end result or outcome makes it easy to get trapped in cycles of future-oriented rumination. This is not only unpleasant, but also takes up energy that you could devote to the task at hand. On the other hand, if you focus entirely on the immediate task—the what and not the why—then you are more likely to fall into the flow-state, and less likely to fall victim to worries and mental chatter.

     4. Less desire, more trust.

    There are two ways we can look at the idea of hope. One is the hope you have when you want or desire something. Like when you hope for a promotion or a bigger car. The other is a more general and vague sense of trust that you have. Like, I have hope that things will turn out okay.

    If you can reduce the first type of hope, the desire for something else, while increasing the second type of hope, trust that everything will be okay, then self-acceptance will become a habit, not just an ideal.

     5. Approach goals indirectly.

    Economist John Kay calls this process obliquity. Sometimes when we strive aggressively to achieve a goal, we can trip over our own feet. This is why some goals, such as happiness, are best achieved by taking an indirect route.

    For example, instead of saying, “This year I want to meet my soul mate,” you could say, “This year I’m going to meet more people and be curious about what they all have to say.” Instead of saying, “This year I want to be happier,” you could say, “This year I’m going to put aside thirty minutes a day for things I enjoy—like writing songs—and give 100% of my attention to those things for thirty minutes.”

    If you feel that you need to do more, but that feeling is never going away, maybe it’s time to try experimenting with the feeling that you can try and do less?

    How have you struggled with feelings of self-acceptance and the belief that you’ve never done enough? Let us know in the comments, we’d love to hear from you.

  • How I Stopped Blaming My Ex for Our Painful Relationship

    How I Stopped Blaming My Ex for Our Painful Relationship

    “To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.” ~Lewis B. Smedes

    When it came to my ex-girlfriend, I had difficulty letting go.

    She was a girl I’d had a big crush on for a couple of years. Funnily enough, once my crush on her began to fade, she suddenly started taking a liking to me and made it known that she was into me through our mutual friends.

    I had my doubts about our compatibility from the start. We hardly shared any common interests, and I found it hard to connect with her in conversations. But my friend said things would be different once we started dating, as had been the case for him and his girlfriend, so I decided to give things a go.

    We broke up after a year of dating, yet we kept coming back to each other over the next two years. Like so many couples, we didn’t know how to be together, nor how to be without each other. We weren’t just incompatible; we were toxic together, and our relationship was full of drama.

    When our turbulent relationship came to an end, it wasn’t letting go of the relationship that I had trouble with; it was letting go of the negative thoughts and feelings that I held toward her. I blamed her for what she had put me through during our time together.

    Though I could go on blaming her, I knew that on a deeper level that the fault didn’t lie solely with her.

    I would get irritated with her for the littlest of things. And though I have always been an optimistic person, during the relationship, I was very negative.

    I was convinced that we couldn’t last even a week without fighting. And like a self-fulfilling prophecy, it always came to pass.

    We eventually parted ways once we each moved to different parts of the country.

    However, the feelings of blame and resentment I was holding from the relationship still bothered me long after it was over.

    Years ago I came across a quote from Buddha that went like this:

    “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” 

    I wanted to let go of these feelings since I knew holding on to them was doing me no good. Yet an intellectual realization alone is often not enough; to let go of negativity, we often need a practical step to take.

    And that’s exactly what I found in Rhonda Byrne’s book The Magic.

    Her book contained an exercise on healing relationships through gratitude. She said that focusing on what we are grateful about the other person could help heal and eliminate feelings of negativity.

    As I started looking for things to be grateful for, I noticed that there were indeed lots of things to appreciate—things that weren’t immediately apparent because my mind had been fixating on all the negatives.

    Like the times when she could be really sweet and caring, and the wonderful and thoughtful birthday gifts she gave me over the years. And most importantly, she never judged me and helped me accept parts of myself that I had trouble accepting.

    The relationship made me realize how judgmental I could be, something that wasn’t apparent to me earlier. It also taught me how powerful the thoughts and feelings we put into a relationship are, whether positive or negative.

    The feelings of resentment I held toward her did not magically go away overnight, possibly because I had stubbornly held on to them for so long.

    It took me a few times of writing them over the years before the blame and negativity started fading away. And I’m glad to say that those feelings are no longer present.

    As I see it now, it’s impossible to change what happened. The only thing I can change is the perspective with which I look back upon the relationship.

    True, we didn’t have the best of relationships, far from it. But I wouldn’t have learned the things I did if everything had been perfect. I guess relationships are like that. There are no failed relationships. The only failed relationships are the ones in which we fail to learn anything.

    Changing my perspective has brought me a lot of peace and helped me let go of the thoughts and feelings that were bothering me.

    I hope if you hold feelings of resentment toward anyone, you can let go too by shifting your perspective and finding some way you’ve learned, grown, or benefited from the relationship. In the end, we are doing ourselves the biggest favor by letting go.

  • How to Hear Your Intuition When Making a Big Decision

    How to Hear Your Intuition When Making a Big Decision

    “Your brain can play tricks, your heart can be blind, but your gut is always right.” ~Rachel Wolchin

    Have you ever wondered why it can feel so incredibly difficult to make a decision? The pros and cons lists, the endless stream of thoughts talking us into it and then against it, the anxiety about potential disappointment, doing it wrong, or regretting it can leave us paralyzed with self-doubt.

    I can very much relate to this cycle. In the past, I had extreme difficulty making decisions. I would become completely obsessed with all aspects of the process, seeking to talk it out with anyone that would listen and write list after list on what direction would be best.

    I eventually realized that my “process” wasn’t working. I ended up only increasing my confusion and self-doubt. The more I talked about the different options and sought others’ opinions, the less clarity I had, which then sent me out to involve even more people in the process. This was a cycle that became endless and maddening for those closest to me.

    I had read about accessing my intuition, which was supposedly there to guide me, yet I still didn’t know how to tap into this alleged “whisper” that already knew the answer. How exactly was I supposed to find it, hear it, and apply it? I assumed no one else had this problem as badly as I did and that it would require years of self-exploration to fix it.

    When we have difficulty tapping into our intuition and trusting in ourselves, the “how” of it all can feel overwhelming.

    I am happy to share that tapping into this part of myself did not require years of self-exploration but rather a willingness and openness to exit my conscious mind—the thinking part of myself—and explore my subconscious—the emotional and feeling part of myself. As I learned how to deeply relax and soothe this deeper part of myself, clarity became natural.

    Three Ways to Access Your Intuition

    1. Giving Our Mind Permission

    We can feel extreme resistance around connecting to our body when we’re stressed or feeling anxious to figure something out. We want to stay in our heads and solve it logically, not allowing ourselves to abandon the problem for even a few minutes. We don’t realize this only creates more indecisiveness and stress, raising our cortisol levels, which impacts our ability to think clearly.

    Important decisions are made through accessing faith within ourselves, where our mind and body connect in harmony. Like so many matters of the heart, this can feel very counterintuitive.

    The more deeply we can relax, the more powerful our mind will be to gain clarity and make the right decision.

    This can look like talking to our conscious mind, letting it know we’re working on things: “I’m working on it; this is how I will give you the clarity you’re asking for.” This gives us permission to exit our head, lowering the resistance we are feeling. We assure the mind we’re not going to abandon it forever, but just for right now. We will be returning. This quiets the chatter we’re hardwired to have on a continuous thought loop.

    If permission doesn’t enable you to calm your mind and access your intuition, it can help to get out in nature, channel your excess energy into a creative project, or simply practice stillness in the chaos of it all. This helps us get past the impulse to “do” something out of fear and worry. Exiting our reasoning mind and connecting to this deeper part of ourselves allows the emotional waves to pass and for clarity to come.

    2. Identifying What We’re Feeling

    Building trust and faith in ourselves starts with connecting to our body and what we’re feeling. Where are we holding tension or feeling sensations related to the outside stress within us? What does it feel like? Where does it feel lighter or heavier?

    As we practice exiting our thinking mind, we’ll feel different sensations as we further relax into what we want and allow it to come in. The distinctions may feel extremely subtle at first, yet as we deepen our awareness through the relaxation, we’ll start to identify nuances within our choices that will guide us to the one that is most in alignment with what we want. We want to stay open and note any gentle intuitive nudges in one direction over the other.

    I once had to make a hard decision about my oldest son’s schooling that brought up all kinds of mixed emotions. My husband and I agreed early on to transfer him to a bigger school for elementary, as his current school was very small, and we wanted him to have a different classroom experience with his teachers and peers.

    I have a hard time with endings, and while knowing this about myself, my emotions still wanted to take over. A decision that, in the big scheme of things, that didn’t need to feel so stressful was activating old pain points in me.

    I started to become a first grader myself again when my parents made decisions that felt like hard transitions. I didn’t want him to feel unheard, unsupported, or angry. I realized I was caught up in my own triggers, my own experience, and completely letting fear and worry take over.

    I felt deeply conflicted and fearful of making the wrong decision for my son, yet I knew the answer wouldn’t come from talking it out.

    I practiced visualizing a pendulum and paid close attention to which way it was slightly drifting. Was it leaning a little closer to yes or no? When facing similar feelings of uncertainty, I still love to close my eyes and notice if the pendulum is swinging a little more right or left and explore that direction a little more.

    3. Evoking Curiosity

    Evoking curiosity allows us to discern between whether we’re reacting versus responding to the issue.

    Curiosity allows us to be right where we are in the moment without judging ourselves for being indecisive or for not knowing the answer right away.

    For example, as I chose to get curious and compassionate with myself rather than closed off and frustrated when I felt like I couldn’t come to a decision for my son, I was able to go deeper into the “why” of what I wanted.

    As I leaned into each scenario, remembering what was discussed when calm and fully in my conscious mind, I started to feel a subtle, yet distinct difference when I relaxed into each choice.

    I was able to observe myself getting caught up in short-term fears such as how I would be viewed by the school we were leaving, what would the other families think, and what if I regretted it and went crawling back in six months?

    I’ve learned that the compulsion to project out into the future and let worry take over was endless, and that it cut me off from the joys of starting a new chapter for him filled with new possibilities.

    I started to differentiate between my intuition versus my ego’s need to have a constant issue or problem requiring my full attention. I’ve also learned through this practice to listen to myself, paying attention to these differences, and to have faith in myself.

    I was then able to choose the option that most clearly aligned with my “why.” I was able to see how fear was paralyzing me from making a decision and how my “why” for wanting to pursue other choices was valid and there for a reason!

    Curiosity allows us to explore our options with ourselves in an open, nonjudgmental, compassionate way so we can then respond from a place of clarity instead of reacting quickly and emotionally.

    To evoke your curiosity, ask yourself: What are the reasons you want or don’t want it? Are your reasons legitimate? What is the thinking process behind what you want? Is it reactionary? What needs to be done to truly own this decision?

    As we continue to ask questions, we soothe the subconscious part of ourselves that is scared, agitated, and anxious, and stop triggered emotions from taking over and leading.

    We can give ourselves permission to put the fear away by asking ourselves, “What would I want to do if I weren’t scared?”

    This allows the conscious part of us to step in and make decisions, managing the reactions coming up that are deeply rooted in our subconscious, our childhood, past triggers, and past disappointments.

    When we awaken this connection within us, we begin to identify deeply with what we need now, rather than the unmet needs of our past.

    With practice and patience, I am confident decision-making will feel like a completely different experience, turning what once felt impossible into a deeper way of connecting and knowing ourselves.

  • How to Rebuild Your Self-Worth After Your Breakup

    How to Rebuild Your Self-Worth After Your Breakup

    “Self-love, self-respect, self-worth: There’s a reason they all start with ‘self.’ You can’t find them in anyone else.” ~Unknown

    After my divorce, I felt like I was the most terrible person in the world.

    I had zero self-worth, zero confidence, and zero belief in myself

    If you’re going through a breakup or divorce now, your self-worth may suffer too. You might feel worthless. You might feel value-less. You might feel like a failure.

    Think about it. The person who loved you, who wanted you, who fell in love with you is now rejecting you.

    If you’ve been together for a couple years, you may take this hard. If you have been together for a couple decades, you may feel absolutely devastated.

    They wanted you before and you felt complete. They rejected you now, so you must be a terrible person.

    I’ve discovered that it’s not our partners who crushed our self-worth and self-esteem. Mine was already pretty low.

    If you came from an abusive family or had a painful childhood, your self-esteem was likely already at rock bottom.

    All this relationship did was bring the issue of self-worth to the surface. You now believe all the terrible things you used to tell yourself.

    Your former partner has confirmed the sneaking suspicion of all the things that you thought about yourself. Their breaking up with you has confirmed to you that you’re useless, unattractive, flawed, and an all-around bad person to be around.

    Not only did your former partner disappear from your life, but now all you have is yourself and these terrible feelings about yourself.

    You lost your ex and gained yourself, except the person you gained is this terrible person that was rejected by the person they loved. It’s a sad and destructive cycle. Your inside world is burning and your outside world is up in smokes!

    I know this all too well because this was how I found myself after my divorce.

    All of these strong feelings about yourself will make you want to stay in bed. They will make you want to give up on the world.

    Your partner thinks you’re horrible and you do too. Why even live? Suicide didn’t cross my mind, but I sometimes wanted to disappear from the world.

    If you’re going through heartbreak right now, here’s what it’s going to take to repair your relationship with yourself and rebuild your self-worth so you can become a more confident, happier version of yourself.

    9 Steps to Rebuild Your Self-Worth After Your Breakup

    1. Accept where you’re at.

    After my divorce, I realized that my self-worth had taken a major hit and that I had been harboring all these feelings toward myself for a very long time.

    The first step is self-awareness. Acknowledge, accept, and notice the feelings of low self-worth within yourself. No judgment, okay? You don’t have to dislike yourself and dislike the fact that you dislike yourself. Just accept your feelings toward yourself for what they are.

    2. Start noticing how you talk to yourself about yourself.

    Your mind is constantly talking to you and saying negative things about you, fueling your low self-worth. Your job is to find a strategy to deal with your mind. Use mindfulness, journaling, observation, or even therapy to get an accurate picture of the thoughts you’re thinking about yourself. Awareness is the key to turning your thoughts and feelings about yourself around.

    3. Think of yourself like a child that you love.

    Imagine you are a parent who is speaking to this frightened child who is feeling terrible about themselves. What would this parent say? How would they comfort this tiny person? How would this parent speak to, treat, and help this helpless person who is struggling with loving themselves?

    Start treating yourself as your own loving parent. Whatever the parent would say to the child, say to yourself. Whatever the person would do for the child, do for yourself.

    4. Use affirmations, encouragement, and positive self-talk.

    You may never have done anything like this in your life, but it’s a great way to reprogram your mind.

    I did this practice for a couple years almost every other day, using affirmations that affirmed my worthiness and my value. I wrote things like:

    • “I am worthy.”
    • “I am enough.”
    • “I am complete.”
    • “I love myself.”
    • “I value myself/”
    • “I have everything I need within me.”
    • “I love myself even if no one else loves me.”

    These statements may sound weird and unnatural, but I’m telling you that they work. People have been telling you the opposite your entire life. Now you have to reprogram your mind and the thoughts you have about yourself.

    5. Use visualization to help you see what’s possible.

    Start imagining what it would feel like if you believed in yourself, accepted yourself, and had confidence in yourself. How would you act, react, and feel if you felt good about yourself?

    Imagine and see what positive self-worth looks like. Look for people who have healthy self-worth and use them as an example. Think about people who are close to you, that treat you well. How they treat you is how you want to ultimately treat yourself. Start closing your eyes and feeling what having high self-worth would look like.

    6. Start acknowledging the inherent qualities you have within yourself.

    All the good things in yourself that you’ve discounted and ignored, start taking note of them.

    When I was first trying to build my self-worth, I would wake up and think about all my good characteristics and virtues. I would say things like, “I’m thankful that I’m using my gift of writing to help other people,” I’m glad that I’m using my gift of compassion to be service to others,” “I’m glad that as an uncle I can bring happiness to the little people in my life.” I noted and recognized every positive quality, little and big .

    7. Start making improvements in your life to change your quality of life.

    Like that parent who treats their kid well, you’re going to treat yourself well. Whatever that means to you, do that.

    For me, this meant getting out of the conflict-ridden legal field to work in NGO with the community. It meant world travel. It meant becoming a coach. It meant getting plenty of sleep. It meant minimizing my life so I wouldn’t have so much stress in it. I continually did things to improve the quality of my life because I was with someone I was starting to fall in love with—me.

    8. Exit from everything that is harmful to you.

    Thoughts, media, friends, family, and anything else that was negative, I stepped away from. If it didn’t make me feel good about myself, I didn’t go near it.

    I know it’s better to process and work through the things that distress us, but as I was trying to rebuild my self-worth, none of that mattered. I was going to solely focus on having positivity in my life and ruthlessly cutting out everything that was harmful, dangerous, or self-sabotaging. This included relationships, activities, media sources, movies, reading materials, advertising, and everything else that didn’t serve me.

    9. Becoming comfortable with yourself.

    When the negative chatter, self-sabotaging relationships, and damaging people in your life all get out of the way, you’ll have the time and space to learn about who you are. This is the process of finding yourself and getting to like this person that’s underneath it all. Meet this person, discover their likes and dislikes, and be curious about them just like you would with someone you’re interested in.

    —

    None of these things are one-time things, or just for you to read today and go back to the rest of your life.

    If you’re serious about your relationship with yourself, you have to commit to it. You have to keep showing up for yourself. You have to ritualize and habitualize all the practices I’ve shared.

    I learned how to improve the relationship with myself and it improved every aspect of my life.

    Now, I’m thankful to my ex for helping me put a spotlight on my self-worth. I have done so much work to heal the self-sabotaging parts of myself.

    You too can use the pain of heartbreak to rebuild your self-worth after your breakup and become the most whole, complete, and happy version of yourself.

  • Free Online Embodied Psychology Summit – Starts on the 22nd

    Free Online Embodied Psychology Summit – Starts on the 22nd

    Have you ever felt like you’ve rehashed your issues over and over, but you’re still far from healing? Maybe you’ve done talk therapy for years, and it’s helped to some degree, but it feels like you’ve been missing something you need to finally start feeling happy, free, and alive.

    If this sounds familiar, I highly recommend the FREE ONLINE Embodied Psychology Summit, which starts in just a few days, on Wednesday the 22nd.

    In this five-day event, you’ll hear from forty renowned teachers and therapists and learn to ignite the wisdom of your body to heal trauma, stress, and pain.

    This conference is for those who:

    • Want to gain knowledge about psychology, somatics, trauma therapy, plant medicine, attachment/intimacy work, internal family systems work, experiential developmental psychology, social/cultural justice and therapy, stress and resilience, and applied poly-vagal theory.
    • Feel like they’ve hit a wall in their talk therapy and are looking for a fresh perspective on healing.
    • Are interested in incorporating somatic methods of healing into their daily practice.
    • Want to listen, connect, and move from the inner wisdom of their body and feel empowered by the capacity to regulate their own physiology.
    • Seek to deeply connect with the inner landscape of their body in order to move and interact with themselves and others with a heightened sense of awareness.
    • Want to fulfill the highest expression of themselves and bring a new dimension of joy into their lives.
    • Want to connect with others in a like-minded community engaged in psychology, embodiment practices, and self-inquiry

    If you’re ready for a more fulfilled existence, click here to reserve your spot and you’ll immediately receive ten free bonus items!

  • When You Feel Bad About Feeling Sad and Anxious

    When You Feel Bad About Feeling Sad and Anxious

    “You don’t have to be brave all of the time. You are not damaged or defeated. Have patience. Give yourself permission to grieve, to cry, and to heal. Allow a bit of compassion, you’re doing the best you can. We all are.” ~Unknown

    Growing up, I received the message that everything had to look a certain way. It was only okay to feel positive emotions, and any expression of unruly emotions was totally unacceptable.

    It wasn’t that anyone directly said this to me. I wasn’t given a written set of rules to follow. I wasn’t given any speeches or trainings about how to present myself in public. But the message came across.

    It was relayed to me in phrases like “Don’t cry, you’re fine,” “Relax, people are watching,” “Just ignore them,” and “Don’t let things bother you.” It was conveyed to me through subtle criticisms of my reactions, which in my mind translated to “You aren’t good enough if you feel bad.”

    In many ways, I was raised to feel uncomfortable with my emotions. I came to believe that negative emotions were a defect within me rather than a natural and essential part of my being. It wasn’t anything my parents did deliberately to try and hurt me. In fact, they were probably trying to avoid seeing me in pain. They were simply following what most people and parents do.

    We advise others to avoid their pain and upset feelings. To snap back into shape, even after immense tragedy. 

    We hear things like “Your cousin died? Well, he’s in heaven now.” “You had to put your dog to sleep? Well, he’s just crossed the rainbow bridge; and anyway, you can always get another dog.”

    People don’t advise you to sit with uncomfortable emotions. They don’t tell you it’s okay to feel sad, hurt, or scared.

    As a young and impressionable little person, I internalized my parents’ messages and fought against every “negative” emotion I had. That is, until the feelings I was trying so hard to avoid took over my body and manifested themselves as a series of seemingly unexplainable health issues and panic attacks.

    As I got older, I became so anxious that I couldn’t hide it anymore. Once I reached the point of being uncontrollably uncomfortable, I set out on a journey of self-exploration.

    I came to realize that my only choice was to examine what I was feeling and explore what those feelings could tell me about myself. For the first time in my life, I decided to figure out what my emotions were really about. I decided to find out why I was so damn anxious.

    Many of us are embarrassed and ashamed of our own feelings and thoughts. 

    We think our unfavorable emotions make us weak, and we worry that other people would think less of us if they knew how bad we actually felt. If we allow dominant ideas about tough emotions to take over our own thoughts, we can wind up feeling shame for the rest of our lives.

    When we’re emotional, we can feel completely powerless, like we’re never going to gain any kind of control over our thoughts, bodies, or surroundings. It can feel so uncomfortable to be upset that we choose to numb ourselves rather than risk feeling any pain.

    For so many years, I had it all wrong. But once it clicked, everything changed.

    The point of being alive isn’t to numb our feelings; we’re always going to feel something, and sadness is always going to try expressing itself in our lives. That’s a fact of life. We can try to avoid it all we want, but the more we distance ourselves from this reality, the more control it gains over us. 

    Freedom comes when we can feel our tough emotions expressing themselves, but no longer let them rule our lives. 

    The more we try to avoid our true nature, the more whatever we don’t want to feel shows up with a vengeance.

    The more I tried to rid myself of worry, sadness, negative thoughts, and panic attacks, the more they seemed to persist. The more they persisted, the more reactive I got to feeling anxiety. And the more reactive I became, the more power anxiety had over my life.

    When we try to get rid of anything in life, we create resistance; and the more we resist something, the more it shows up. Famous psychologist Carl Jung stated that “what you resist not only persists, but will grow in size.” So, the goal here isn’t to get rid of anxiety, panic attacks, or sadness, it’s to work on our intolerance of those feelings. It’s to learn how to manage ourselves through the discomfort of it all.

    We don’t gain comfort, self-compassion, and calm by resisting or wishing things were different; we reach true calm by letting it be okay when we’re sad and anxious, and then letting it go.

    The more you fight it, the more it will show up; the more you let it be, the less power it will have over you.

    This is, of course, easier said than done. It’s a natural instinct to try banishing anything that feels uncomfortable. However, by continuously practicing deep acceptance for what is, we put ourselves in the best position to change it, or even achieve freedom from it, so that we can move past it.

    Here’s what I did to pull myself back from numbing myself and stumble into my new world with tolerance of my emotions:

    1. Know that it’s okay to be anxious and upset.

    Without a doubt, the most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed and stressed out. It’s okay to feel lost and unsure. It’s alright to have no idea how you’re going to hold it together sometimes. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be happy all the time. It’s okay to acknowledge when times are tough. It’s alright to feel anxious, even if it’s uncomfortable.

    2. Become an observer of your life.

    Instead of judging and getting angry with myself for feeling a certain way, I decided to be an observer of my emotions and environment. I chose to slow down and watch. I remind myself that when we’re busy judging ourselves for the way we feel, we aren’t honoring ourselves.

    Our emotions are involuntary; we have no control over them. However, what we do have control over is how we decide to respond to those emotions. When we accept our emotions as they come, take ownership of them, and avoid taking them out on the people we love, we train ourselves to manage our emotions from within.

    3. Decide who you want to be.

    I’ve found that it’s much easier to be happy, nice, and upbeat when your life is going well. It’s a lot harder to hold onto yourself when stress and anxiety are high. Knowing this, I work at trying to stay true to who I am, even in unfortunate situations. Even if I’m feeling agitated or upset, I know I can choose to respond in ways that allow me to shine through. Just because I’m not feeling so great, doesn’t mean I need to take it out on anyone I care about.

    4. Know it’s okay to feel strong emotions.

    During hard times our emotions can feel more intense. We may lose hope or be more reactive. Even though it’s totally fine to maintain an optimistic perspective of life, it’s also important to allow ourselves to process and feel the full spectrum of emotions.

    5. Remember that even negative emotions have a place in our lives.

    Sadness, anger, frustration, boredom, anxiety etc. all have a place in our lives. The key is not to avoid or numb these emotions, but to experience them and learn to manage them effectively so they don’t run our lives.

    Unfortunately, many of us don’t know how to manage our negative feelings—in part, because we’ve been taught to repress them. As children, many of us are told not to cry, which leads us to believe that crying is bad.

    As adults, when we experience emotions like depression or anxiety, our natural impulse is usually to mask those feelings. We may have an inner voice telling us to forget about it; we may even turn to drugs, food restriction, or binge eating to distract us from our emotions.

    As human beings, we’re simply incapable of numbing a select set of emotions. So, when we numb sadness, we also numb happiness, joy, and other positive emotions. What’s worse is that as we struggle with our own negative emotions, we may create even more suffering. It’s hard work to deny something we’re truly feeling. It takes energy; it wears us down. So rather than try to ignore our feelings, it better serves us to work on observing them.

    It’s alright to admit that you’re hurting or struggling. We all go through hard times. And maybe we can find a bit of comfort in remembering that we aren’t alone. But first, we must accept what’s happening. Then we can decide how we want to best deal with it.

  • How to Love a Lying, Cheating Heart

    How to Love a Lying, Cheating Heart

    Brett’s name flits onto my screen with an incoming email.

    “Call you right back,” I say, hanging up on a friend.

    Last time I talked to Brett, the Obama family lived in the White House. Last time I thought of him? Last year, as Melania took her third crack at presidential Christmas décor, and I failed to muster enough spirit to fetch our pre-lit tree from the garage.

    Brett’s message came in through the contact form on my website. He invited me to meet for coffee; full respect if I decline.

    Four years ago, it was me who reached out to Brett. On a dreary morning in early December 2015, I called his office to report that our spouses had been having an affair.

    The receptionist had put me on hold. I held my breath, rehearsing: I don’t know if you remember me. My husband Sean used to work with Rebekah—

    A soft click, then Brett’s voice on the line, “Jess.” He held that syllable of my name as if it were a preemie, just born. “I’m so sorry about Sean.”

    I slumped on the sofa. Five weeks in, I was still surprised to be greeted with condolences. “Thanks, Brett.” I said. “And I’m sorry for what I’m about to tell you.”

    A heart attack claimed Sean, in the Houston airport, on November 4, 2015. I woke up that morning a stay-at-home mom whose super-achieving husband was about to become CEO of a mid-sized company. By lunchtime, I was an unemployed widow, and sole parent of a heartbroken nine-year-old.

    My love story with Sean had begun in 1995. He was my biggest supporter, my closest confidante, and the co-author of a lifetime of inside jokes. When Sean died, I lost my best friend in the world. Two weeks later, when a good friend—who thought I already knew—let slip that Sean and Rebekah had been having an affair… I lost him again.

    I knew I was a mess, and resisted the urge to ricochet my pain onto Brett. But I finally decided to call him once I’d cottoned on to Sam Harris: “By lying, we deny others a view of the world as it is. Our dishonesty not only influences the choices they make, it often determines the choices they can make… Every lie is a direct assault upon the autonomy of the person we lie to.” Bingo.

    Years earlier, newly enchanted lovers Sean and Rebekah had set up dinner with Brett and me at Redwater Grille. I got to know Brett a little that night, and (since she didn’t attend Sean’s funeral) that evening was the last time I saw Rebekah. We sat next to each other in the leather booth. She took a bite of her salad, then held her French-manicured fingertips in front of her lips, “I fink I broke my toof.” Her cheeks were flushed pink. She looked timid and wide-eyed, like an anime character.

    “Lemme see,” I said, and she lowered her hand a little. The white porcelain veneers on her two front teeth were chipped, revealing a black half-moon and craggy yellowed ridges. “It’s not that bad,” I said, patting her arm as she scooted past me toward the washroom. “You can barely notice.”

    Sam Harris would not have been impressed with me that day.

    I told Brett about the affair in order to show him the respect I wished I’d been given. That doesn’t mean he welcomed my call. He never took me up on my offer to provide phone records or boutique hotel receipts. I don’t know what happened next in Brett’s world. Maybe he forgave his wife.

    Not me. A couple weeks after talking to Brett, I went for revenge. No public shaming. No, “You banged my husband—prepare to die.”  I owed Rebekah a few medical details, and I felt I owed myself the gratification of parceling them in unpleasantries and delivering them at a wildly inconvenient time.

    Christmas Eve 2015: I dropped off my son to sleep over with a cousin, walked my dogs by the river, and then settled into an armchair under a cozy blanket at home. In the late afternoon twilight, I pulled out my phone and fired off an onslaught of text messages.

    I felt like a boss for eight seconds, then realized how easily she could have thwarted me: Block caller—pass the eggnog. Damn.

    I re-sent the messages to Rebekah’s Skype account, instructing her to let me know she got them. No response.

    I paced, stared out the window. Lights twinkled at my neighbors’ houses. Smoke plumed out from their fireplaces. I called Rebekah’s cell. Called family’s landline. Nothing. I looked at my car keys, hanging next to the garage door. If Rebekah didn’t acknowledge me by midnight, I’d be crashing down their bloody chimney.

    Around the time that each of us should have been eating Santa’s cookies and going to bed, it occurred to me that Sean had once been Rebekah’s boss. I logged into Sean’s personal email account and wrote to Rebekah’s work account with the subject line, “Immediate action required: Possible HR concern.” Instant reply. She shot back, saying she’d sue for me harassment.

    I deleted her empty threat. Boom, bitch.

    Four years later, I’m curious how Brett’s life has unfolded. I’m keen to know how my revenge plan landed at Rebekah’s end, and I just want to ask Brett what the hell happened?

    For me, shrieking, “How could you?” toward Sean’s side of our empty bed turned out to be pretty unsatisfying. The only answers I’ve ever gotten are the ones I’ve cobbled together with my Nancy Drew skills. Brett’s email invitation said, “A LOT has happened since Sean’s passing (and the events around his life which somewhat entwined us.)” He’s right—we’re entwined. I can’t wait to talk to him.

    Brett’s late. He texts: Urgent call from his son’s school. I order a latte and grab the last free table—a tall two-seater, inches from other patrons.

    I stand up when Brett arrives and walk to meet him near the door. Brett’s tall, broad-shouldered, and athletic. We’ve both aged in the eight years since we last saw each other, but he’s still young-looking for his early fifties, and an attractive guy. We hug and say hello. I gesture across the crowded cafe, point out the lack of privacy and say, “You wanna get outta here?”

    He gives me a quizzical look. I burst out laughing, realizing what I’ve said. We end up in the sunroom of a quiet restaurant. It’s the mid-afternoon lull, and we have the place almost to ourselves. Our table is directly under a blazing patio heater. I tuck my winter parka into the corner of the booth and settle in. I order a burger and an iced tea. He gets a cranberry soda.

    Brett tells me that when I called him back in 2015, he and Rebekah were 90% down the road to divorce. He hadn’t been a perfect husband. She’d been happy to lay all the blame on him. He says that his conversation with me was a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s been a long process, but their divorce will be finalized soon.

    Brett mentions that he’s writing a book. Same here. He’s had a lot of physical pain and health problems from the stress of all this. Me too. He’s been learning mindfulness practices in order to heal. The enemy of my enemy is my new bestie. The server checks to see if we want drink refills. We do.

    Many years ago, I knew a fitness fanatic who followed a zero-sugar diet, but one Saturday each month he’d go to the movies, sneak in a bag of Goodie Rings and a bag of Twizzlers, and polish off the cookies and red liquorice while watching the show.

    I feel like that guy, watching Fatal Attraction, when Brett starts dishing about Rebekah.

    “She’s got these kinks in the bedroom…” (om nom nom)

    “She’s pretty much slept with all her bosses…” (nom nom nom)

    “Our son suspected her of cheating on me. He confronted her, and she tore a strip off him so deep, she cut him right to the core.”

    (gulp)

    My text onslaught to Rebekah had ended with: “My Christmas wish? That your children find out what a worthless, selfish, life-destroying coward their mother really is.” A pang of guilt flares in my belly. I take a sip of iced tea.

    I tell Brett about a three-day trauma release workshop I recently completed. “There was a dead ringer for Rebekah in that class. I could barely look at her. She looked exactly like her, but ten years younger.”

    “Ten years? Coulda been her. You should see what she spends on plastic surgery.”

    I raise an eyebrow.

    “Well, she kinda has to—a lot of people see her naked.” (Nom nom nom)

    When it’s time to pick up our kids, we thank each other for the meeting. I zip up my parka. Brett says, “I hope this was half as good for you as it was for me.”

    It was better. I’m giddy on a schadenfreude rush.

    One morning a week, I venture into Rebekah’s neighborhood to see my physical therapist. When I get to the stop light near the hospital, I always hold my breath, worried that she’s in a nearby vehicle, scoffing at me in my fourteen-year-old minivan. After today, I’ll never be nervous about bumping into Rebekah again.

    That night, my stomach hurts. Snippets from my conversation with Brett bubble up.

    He told me that Rebekah’s family emigrated from Hungary. I’ve spent the last two years learning as much as I can about healing trauma. One of my teachers is Dr. Gabor Maté, who was born in Budapest. He was two months old when the Nazis invaded. His grandparents were killed in Auschwitz, his father was sent to a forced labor camp. He and his mother starved. He speaks about the long-ranging impact of those experiences on his own life, and the rippling impact on his relationships, on his children.

    Dr. Maté’s story shapes an outline of what might also be true for Rebekah’s parents.

    Brett said Rebekah’s father was a problem drinker. Mine too. Colorful details self-populate into my imagined picture of Rebekah’s early life.

    One area of trauma research that I’ve been particularly drawn to is epigenetics. Our bodies contain molecules that prompt genes to either express or to remain dormant. That’s why some people with genetic markers for cancer will develop the disease and some won’t.

    Traumatic experiences can be a stimulus for gene expression, and, beyond that, traumatic experiences code into our genetic material to help our offspring recognize threats.

    When children live through trauma, they stop coding for connection and start coding for protection. This can affect the way they’re able to relate to others. I can’t know if any of this is true specifically for Rebekah, but when I attacked her, I sensed that pain point.

    The first eleventy-bazilion views of Brené Brown’s TEDx talk The Power of Vulnerability—those were mostly me. Listening to Brown, I could see the people in my life filing into two camps: On one side were those who believed they were worthy of love and belonging, and on the other: the tortured, the troubled, the pain-in-the-ass people with whom having a relationship felt like driving a pot-hole riddled road. The erosive force that kept those people lonely, insecure and disconnected: shame.

    When I assaulted Rebekah’s worthiness, I was trying to crush her f*cking windpipe. I wished for her children to see her as a coward because that was the most hurtful thing I could think to say. I wanted her to die of shame.

    I picture the scene Brett told me about: Their teenage son confronting Rebekah about the affair. I can see her yelling, red-faced, her finger pointing into his chest. Her big blues eyes are narrow with contempt.

    I imagine the boy shrinking back. His nervous system floods with chemicals that will help him build neural pathways to avoid this danger in the future. He’s coding for protection. He’s learning to doubt himself.

    My wish has come true. This boy has seen his mother wearing the coward’s ugliest face: the bully. I wished for something that has hurt a child. If I’d eaten a bag of Goodie Rings and a bag of Twizzlers I could purge that feeling from my system, but I have to lie here in the gurgling awareness that the pain is being passed to another generation.

    The next day I feel achy and drained. Brett follows up with a text, thanking me for meeting. I thank him back. He told Rebekah that we met for lunch, and she wasn’t pleased. He adds: “It appears she feels no remorse toward what she did to you and me.” That should piss me off, but it doesn’t. I read Brett’s text again, trying to spark some outrage. Nothing.

    The way Brett’s framed it for me, expecting Rebekah’s contrition looks like a baited steel-jawed trap. I don’t feel outrage because I can see the hazard, and I’m not caught.

    It dawns on me that I’ve been able to come to terms with Sean—against admittedly long odds—partly because I relinquished the requirement that he apologize. Of course I wanted Sean to be sorry, but given, y’know, the circumstances I don’t get to hear him say those words. I’ve wanted Rebekah to be sorry too, and she’s alive. She could make amends if she chose, but if Brett and I need that, we’re giving her the power to withhold it.

    Brett and I did not deserve to be betrayed. We didn’t deserve to be lied to. But the most hurtful lie of an affair is the romantic whopper that nobody ever apologizes for: That two people are moved by an overwhelming chemistry—the whole world falls away . . .

    Raise your hand if you fell away while your partner was sneaking around with someone else. Hey—would ya look at that. We were all still here.

    The chemistry of an affair is a complex chain reaction. Bonds are broken. New bonds are formed. Highly reactive, unstable isotopes are created. When Rebekah took up with my husband, she also created a relationship with me—not as an unfortunate byproduct, but as an inevitability. To this day, she tries to ignore that fact. I started off unaware that she was a force in my life, but her impact was perceptible, long before I knew what was causing the change.

    Rebekah’s instinct is to erase me from her world. That’s not so different from my attempt to snuff out her life force in a stranglehold of shame. It’s not easy to find common ground with someone who wants to banish you from existence.

    At lunch that day, Brett gave me the piece that changed the equation: He was upstairs in their bedroom when Rebekah got the call that Sean had died. He heard a sound coming from the kitchen, an animal wail he didn’t recognize as Rebekah’s voice—until she started sobbing. I know the sound he means. My body emitted that same tortured cry over the loss of the same man.

    That kind of pain isn’t just common ground; it’s primordial, alchemical. We couldn’t see one another, but Rebekah and I were in that pain-place together.

    That’s enough for me. I want to stop contributing to the suffering. My well-being doesn’t depend on anyone’s remorse; it depends on my decision not to create more pain.

    It’s not Christmas Eve, but somewhere in the cosmos right now, there’s a shooting star, a streak of light making its way through the darkness. In Rebekah’s real name, I wish upon that star:

    May your children know you as worthy, generous, creative, and brave.

    When I sent that hateful message to Rebekah, I thought I was taking my power back. I imagined my spite as a ballistic missile, swift and on target. Now, I see a reeling, desperate woman—all alone—waving a word-slingshot like a maniac.

    I’m stronger now.

    This new wish? There’s a mushroom cloud over it. Shockwaves ripple out from its epicenter. This wish is seeping into the groundwater.

    May you know yourself as worthy, generous, creative, and brave.

    May we all.

    Boom, fellow bitch.

  • Deconstructing Shame: How to Break Free from Your Past

    Deconstructing Shame: How to Break Free from Your Past

    “We cannot grow when we are in shame, and we can’t use shame to change ourselves or others.” ~Brené Brown

    “I don’t deserve to be happy.”

    “I’ll never be good enough.”

    “I’m not worthy of love.”

    Sound familiar?

    I hear phrases like this all the time in my work helping women walk through divorce. I heard it for years while I was working in women’s ministry. And it echoes back to me from my own experience. I’ve walked through a lot of broken stories from numerous aching souls.

    These phrases all boil down to one core emotion: shame.

    Throughout my life, I have been all too familiar with that emotion. I spent almost seventeen years in a destructive marriage, had multiple miscarriages, was diagnosed with cancer, had a hysterectomy because of the cancer, almost lost my mind, and had a mild heart attack from all the stress. On top of that, my mother committed suicide—she shot herself in the head.

    And then I went through a high-conflict divorce. It was so costly, my net worth plummeted and I was left with very little.

    I was a single mom and I had to choose whether or not I was going to go back to corporate and never see my kids because of the unspoken price tag of working in corporate (eighty-plus hours a week—a steep price to pay). So I went to countless interviews and couldn’t land a job because, even though I was an executive level that had managed multimillion dollar initiatives and people globally, I didn’t have that magic sheet of paper—a degree that made people think I was smart enough.

    For as long as I can remember, I bought the lie that I wasn’t enough, and I believed that I deserved abuse, pain, and grief. For most of my life I was ashamed of breathing. I apologized for everything—for other people’s disapproval, for the wrong mixture of words, for my entire being. I thought I deserved every bad experience I had, thanks to my former conditioning.

    We humans are good at gathering shame inside us. Victims of trauma and abuse experience a tremendous amount of toxic shame, and if that is not your story, odds are you have internalized feelings of unworthiness from shaming messages you’ve received from parents, teachers, and peers in your formative years.

    Beliefs of unworthiness, then, often stem from childhood, when you have a heightened vulnerability to experience shame that either results from a harsh self-critical inner dialogue, the belittlement of efforts, achievements, or ideas, or physical, sexual, or emotional abuse.

    Experiences, good or bad, initiate neural firing in the brain. Over time, with repetition, especially when accompanied by emotional intensity, neural circuits form our habitual responses to experience. In other words, the more we engage in certain thoughts and behavior, the more we become prone to having such thoughts. Any state of mind can become reality with reinforcement.

    So, if in our childhood our efforts to be loved were met with negative responses, our brain structure would respond by developing patterns that reinforce our feelings of unworthiness. We would be conditioned to perceiving everything through a shame filter.

    When we view ourselves through such a filter, we are tempted to cover ourselves for fear of exposure. We become a chameleon of sorts, adapting to identities that others place on us.

    We then live in a constant state of fight or flight; from a physio-biological/physio-neurological standpoint, there’s so much cortisol pumping through the body that the brain gets foggy and you experience fatigue, frustration, angst, and dis-ease (which becomes disease). Your adrenals are in overtime.

    When we cover ourselves like that, because of our shame, we tend to disconnect, isolate, and hide. We create a protective insulation of sorts.

    When my kids were little they were scared of the dark, just like most kids. As a new parent I tried all the techniques to get rid of the “monster” they were afraid of so that they would go to sleep. I tried a nightlight, and I even put water in a spray bottle, claiming it was “monster deterrent” and sprayed their room to allegedly keep the monsters away.

    It was stupid of me to play that game with them; young as they were, they were too smart to fall for it.

    So I finally sat them down and said, “Look. Here’s the deal… if you see a monster, he’s coming to you for a reason. Next time he comes into your room, instead of being scared, welcome him in and say, ‘Hey man what’s up?’ And then you’re welcome to go downstairs and share cookies and milk with your new monster friend.”

    My son was so excited. He couldn’t wait to see the monster so that he could bring him downstairs for cookies.

    Every morning he’d wake up and say, “Mom, I tried staying up all night, but the monster never came…” Because he wasn’t fearful anymore, he slept all night long.

    Combating shame is kind of like that. It starts with pulling back the curtain and getting real and raw, looking it square in the face. When you bring it into the open it loses its power over you. When you bring it into the light, you can deconstruct it, recalibrate, reconstruct your story, and reemerge.

    Lasting change occurs in your fundamental belief system, which can be updated. The term “plasticity” refers to this capacity to change the brain. That means it is possible to “flip the script” and engage in new, empowering thoughts and behavior. Thus, transformation occurs by confronting limiting beliefs you’ve built about yourself and identities others have given you.

    You can literally rewire the shame memory with new experiences of self-empathy, and inner compassion.

    You can break free from shame. And, your story can become a catalyst; you can leverage your loss to serve others like I did. But first you need to own your power, and that starts with shifting your mindset, especially if you’d holding a victim mentality, as I once did.

    When I was deep in the pit, I had a friend who said, “You don’t wear that look well.” I burned with shame, but it was true. I had allowed myself to become a victim who focused on how unfair life was for me.

    So I started taking inventory of my life and began practicing gratitude. Before my feet hit the ground in the morning, I sit in gratitude. I’m grateful that my clients allow me to help them walk in complex situations and they trust me to guide them. I’m grateful for a chance to slow down and catch my breath.

    The power of choice is the one thing that separates us from all the animals on the planet. At any moment you can choose joy, love, and gratitude. Or you can choose anger, resentment, and powerlessness.

    Does this mean that you won’t have challenges? Absolutely not. You’re going to get the challenges you need that will help you live your purpose.

    When I started obsessing with gratitude my life began to shift, and yours can too.

    Anger and powerlessness create negative energy that attracts more negative energy. When you move into gratitude, you instantly move things into your energy that you can become more grateful for. The faster I come into gratitude the better I feel. Gratitude is a healing energy. 

    Of course, it took a lot more than gratitude to help me break free from shame, especially the shame that was thrust upon me. My transformation was the result of shifting mentality, understanding emotions, and changing habits. Through it all I learned we have to give up the story of not being enough. We are enough. We have to bring your shame into the light. We can create a new rulebook for yourself.

    Listen, when you awaken one person you awaken generations and a tectonic shift occurs and nobody is the same. A dark room can’t remain dark when a bright light comes into it.

    It’s scary bringing shame to light, but the minute you do that you step into a newfound freedom, you learn who you are outside of the identities everyone else has given you, you fully become yourself. The worthy, deserving, more-than-enough you that you have always been.

  • 5 Easy Exercises That Will Make You Lose Your Mind

    5 Easy Exercises That Will Make You Lose Your Mind

    “Lose your mind so that you can gain a new way of knowing.” ~Holly Lynn Payne

    You know those moments when your thoughts seem to be going off in all directions? No logic, no control. All fighting for your attention like a class full of overexcited school children, one shouting even louder than the other at a teacher who’s lost control and ends up running out of the classroom crying.

    “What if I don’t get this job?”

    “What if they don’t like me?”

    “Why hasn’t Rico returned my calls?”

    “What if he doesn’t really love me?”

    “Did I turn down the heater?”

    “I feel like a failure thinking about my money situation.’”

    “He should have called me back if he really loves me.”

    “I should start budgeting tomorrow.”

    “I am going to do yoga every day next month.”

    “I should really lose some weight.”

    “If this is how it is, I don’t want to see him anymore.”

    “Is reality really even real?”

    “I feel feverish; do I have Corona?”

    “What if the sun doesn’t come up?”

    “I am going to text him now.”

    “No, let’s not text him now, I am too upset.”

    “I feel a weird tingling in my hand, am I dying?”

    In such a situation you feel like you are going crazy, right? You want to stop it and get out of there and just want some peace and quiet. Precisely because it is so uncomfortable to have thoughts like these, it is a great motivation to let go of your mind and find your silence inside. These moments make you want to lose your mind, and that’s actually awesome!

    Meditation is a great ally in my life on all levels; sitting in silence helps me get in touch with a deeper level of experiencing—more happiness, more flow, and more magic. But I speak to a lot of people who find it very hard to start meditation. Even if they try, they get stuck or they struggle.

    It is my mission to make meditation easy for anyone who’s interested, because it really is easy once you get it.

    Through my years of spiritual practice, retreats, and meditation training I ran into a few exercises that almost feel like a cheat code to get around the mind. They are so easy, so accessible, you don’t need any practice and they don’t take long at all. But they deliver on a silver platter what so many people are looking for after years of trying to quiet the mind with meditation.

    Whether you are a newbie or a veteran, it doesn’t matter; these exercises offer something for everyone.

    What’s important for all these exercises: Let go of expectations, just observe what is happening; there is no right or wrong. Experience how it feels for you and stay in the feeling; don’t try to understand it in words.

    1. Ping pong

    The next time you find yourself caught up in some type of love story or money trouble or worry in your head, pay attention and you will see you have thoughts that say completely the opposite.

    Think about this classic example of contradictory thoughts:

    “I never want to see him again.”

    “Why doesn’t he call me?”

    When you have opposing thoughts like this, take a step back in your mind and look at both thoughts. It’s just like looking at a ping pong match, right? Then just stay there for a while and feel what happens.

    2. Look

    Go for a walk outside; it doesn’t matter where or when. Focus purely on your surroundings. Just look with your eyes, really look, without commenting in your head on what you see. It doesn’t matter if it’s a beautiful forest of a busy shopping street, just keep your attention on what you experience in the moment.

    If at any moment a thought pops into your head, don’t grab hold of it; just observe it and let it float by, like a cloud in the sky. In the meantime, keep your attention on your surroundings and keep walking.

    3. Five breaths

    This might sound very simple, but when it comes down to it, it’s harder for a lot of people then they might think, and that’s what makes it so fun and so eye-opening. It’s a great way to see how many thoughts, big and small, are popping up in your head every breath.

    So just sit down, close your eyes, and breathe five slow breaths in and out, in and out, counting as you go—inhale, exhale, one; inhale, exhale, two. Counting will give you something to hold your mind, which will help you keep it clear of other thoughts.

    If you can make it to five with a quiet mind, see if you can add another five, and then more after that. If thoughts pop up, simply bring your focus back to your counting and your breath.

    While you practice this the invitation is to see what happens for you. How does your mind feel? How does your body feel? Are you experiencing anything different?

    4. Wait for it

    Sit down, close your eyes, and say to yourself, “Hmm, I wonder what the next thought is going to be.” Focus on the space inside your head where thoughts seem to come from and sit and wait for the next thought while keeping your focus.

    5. Hum!

    The amazing Indian tradition of Brahmari is a great emergency tool for calming a chaotic mind.

    Just close your eyes and go “Huuuummmmmmmmmmm” and keep the “mmmm” going for as long as you can until you hear the “mmmm” in the center of your brain. You can also use “Ohm” or “Aum” if you like, since they end with “mmmm” as well. Do it as long as you can, for as long as you like, and see how it calms and relaxes you.

    —

    These five exercises will give you an experience of silence in no time at all, and they’re all great first steps toward a regular meditation practice. When one doesn’t work just move to the next one, not forcing anything. Be playful with it.

    If you do these exercises regularly the silence will become longer and clearer. But beware: They might just make you fall in love with losing your mind!

  • Slow Down and Relax with ZoneOutTV (100 Free Subscriptions!)

    Slow Down and Relax with ZoneOutTV (100 Free Subscriptions!)

    Every now and then you just need to shut off—shut your phone off, shut your brain off, and give yourself a little space to simply be. We all do, especially now.

    Let’s face it, it’s been a crazy year, with the pandemic, economic upheaval, and social justice conflicts, not to mention the upcoming election.

    It’s always a good idea to create time and space for mindfulness and relaxation, but it’s even more imperative when life gets extra stressful and chaotic.

    If you, like me, need a little help unwinding and quieting the voice in your head, I suspect you’ll love ZoneOutTV. I know I do. And I’m grateful the team has offered 100 free annual subscriptions to the Tiny Buddha community.

    “ZoneOutTV is what you turn on when you’ve had enough… enough news, enough politics; enough social updates; enough email; enough texts. ZoneOutTV is your refuge from being programmed, sold, directed, educated, informed, and manipulated. When it is time to slow down, relax, and enjoy we are here for your soul.”

    About ZoneOutTV

    ZoneOutTV is an easy, drug-free escape from anxiety and insomnia with gentle sounds, message-free content, and virtual travel to beautiful places.

    The expanding series of simple, beautiful videos with natural sounds features a vast range of hour-long and infinite-loop episodes of beautiful environments, natural habitats, fun critters, and surprising locations.

    This subscription-based service—accessible via Roku, FireTV, AppleTV, Xbox, Desktop, laptop and mobile—features content in various categories, including:

    • Nature
    • Urban
    • Animals
    • Holidays
    • Lifestyle
    • Guest Artists
    • Sleep

    New episodes are published monthly, providing a wide variety of options to calm and soothe your busy mind, along with free monthly sample episodes, available without requiring any personal information.

    ZoneOut is nothing like regular TV. You can watch your favorite videos on a loop, for meditation, reading, holiday celebrations, and so forth; you can adjust your settings to play all videos in a given category; or you can choose from the wide variety of sleep episodes, carefully crafted with dark screen visuals and gentle relaxation inducing natural sounds, for a non-drug insomnia solution.

    You can use your TV with a timer to help you relax into sleep, use your smartphone with headphones to help calm your mind, or use the web version in a separate browser while you’re working to help create mental quiet and boost your productivity.

    Get a Free Year of ZoneOutTV

    The first 100 readers to redeem this coupon code will get a free one-year subscription (valued at $49.99):

    TINYBUDDHA

    This code is valid through August 31, 2020. You can redeem it by clicking here, then clicking on “start free trial” on the top right of the page. From there, click on “monthly” on the left, then enter your info on the right and check the “promo code” box. After you’ve entered your info and promo code, click “Apply.” Then click the big yellow “Redeem now” button below the form and you’ll be all set!

    If you’re reading this after all 100 subscriptions have been redeemed, you can still enjoy the service at no cost by signing up for a free 60-day trial, using the code TINYBUDDHA30.

    I hope you enjoy ZoneOutTV as much as I have!

    **Though this is a sponsored post, you can trust I only promote products and services I love and can easily personally recommend.

  • How to Heal from Gaslighting and Stop Hurting Yourself

    How to Heal from Gaslighting and Stop Hurting Yourself

    “Gaslighting by parents can extend way into adulthood, but it may have particularly harmed you during your childhood. Children need to learn to trust themselves, and when they’re taught that what they see, hear, or feel isn’t real, that can lead to a lifetime of self-doubt.” ~Suzannah Weiss

    Some of us grew up in families where our feelings and what we were experiencing were denied or pushed aside, what some people call “gaslighting.”

    What is that? When someone—often our caregivers/parents—sows seeds of doubt in our minds that make us question our own sense of personal truth and reality.

    They did a good job of convincing us that what we saw, we didn’t see; how we felt, we didn’t feel; and what we wanted, we didn’t want.

    This left us feeling very confused about what was true, and as we grew up, we had a hard time trusting ourselves. We searched and searched for someone “out there” to give us answers on how to be and what was right for us.

    We didn’t feel comfortable making decisions, and many of us became co-dependent, anxious, and sometimes avoidant. Some of us disassociated because the stress we experienced from denying our truth and the emotional abuse that was happening was very challenging.

    If you’re getting uncomfortable, imagine what that’s like for a little soul.

    This was what I grew up in. Constant shame and blame for how I was being, what I was saying, and how I was experiencing things.

    As a child I had an issue with getting dizzy. It really scared me and I experienced a lot of panic internally. My dad told me that I was just imagining it and to “get over it.” I didn’t know how to soothe myself except for eating, and I started to believe that there was something wrong with me.

    Around age five I remember crying really hard, pretty much throwing a tantrum when my dad made me go up to the puppets who scared me, and he filmed me and screamed at me to stay there.

    No one ever asked me, “Hey Deb, what do you want?” It was more like “This is what you’re going to do, think, and feel” and if you don’t, you won’t “get the reward.”

    I always wanted to be with my parents; I felt scared and alone without them. I was very clingy, and my mom would tell me to go outside and play and shamed me for wanting to always be with Mommy and Daddy.

    “If you don’t do anything right, don’t do it at all.” This was the hidden and not so hidden message in our family system. The problem with that was no matter what I said or did, it wasn’t right in my family’s eyes; it was wrong, stupid, or I got punished for it.

    Many people, especially my dad, teased me for being fat, eating all the time, and dressing like a boy. I didn’t want to wear a dress and take ballet; I wanted to play sports and ride my skateboard.

    I didn’t have any say in what was right for me, everything was chosen for me according to “the family rules.”

    There was a lot of yelling and the silent treatment, a mixed bag of emotional experiences. If I spilled milk or broke something, they would scream at and sometimes punish me, as if I did it purposely.

    I didn’t really know how to make sense of what was happening, especially people getting angry with me whenever I asked for anything and/or shared how I was feeling, and this created a lot of anxiety.

    Eventually I disassociated through self-harm, going numb and using substances like food and sleeping pills and compulsively exercising.

    Some may say coping in this way was a bad thing, I say it saved me. It gave me a way to escape from the stress I was experiencing.

    I had a hard time concentrating in school because my nervous system was overactive. The teachers and my parents called me stupid; in actuality, I was a pretty damn smart little kid. That’s how I found coping mechanisms to protect myself and  keep myself safe.

    Self-love and self-honoring were so far from my comprehension that, in order to learn them, I had to first allow myself to feel whatever I was feeling and see the ways I was denying myself, which wasn’t easy. It went against what I learned in order to feel safe and loved by my family.

    My healing journey was to stop gaslighting myself, allowing however I was feeling and experiencing to be okay. You see, the way people treat us when we’re little often becomes the way treat ourselves as adults.

    I can’t change what happened to me, but I can notice how I treat myself today. When I catch myself denying my personal reality, thinking “I shouldn’t be feeling that way, wanting what I want, or needing what I need” I take a deep breath and sit with it.

    I recently fell in love with someone. I got really excited about the feelings I was having because I haven’t had them for a long time. I finally took a risk and asked her out, but the feelings weren’t mutual, and I instantly felt rejected.

    At first, I judged myself and told myself I shouldn’t feel for her if the feelings aren’t reciprocated; I was trying to protect myself from the hurt. But what hurt most wasn’t her rejecting me; it was my judgment about why she rejected me.

    As I went deeper, it triggered a childhood wound of needing to reject/abandon myself to get love and acceptance from someone else. That part of me needed my acceptance and loving. I also needed to remind myself that my feelings weren’t “wrong.” No feelings are wrong.

    The whole “good/bad/right/wrong” man-made song is why we have a hard time honoring how we truly are inside. This is where the healing takes place; we need to see the misunderstandings that lead us to believe what we believe, and this is not done with our conscious thinking.

    Our conscious thinking is a story maker, always weaving stories about what things mean based on our beliefs about ourselves and the world. It’s a protector, it’s part of our conditioning; how we’re truly feeling is most often in our “unconscious memory.” Why? At the time we experienced these things we didn’t have the emotional maturity, so a part of our psyche tucked it away. But now, as adults, we can access our unconscious memory, starting with shadow work.

    Shadow working is inner child healing. It’s the first step in healing and living authentically, and it is a process; the key is to let go of judging ourselves for how we’re being and be more compassionate and loving.

    To get started with shadow work, I would suggest noticing when you’re triggered by someone else. Instead of pointing the finger, take a deep breath and allow yourself to feel however you’re feeling.

    Most often, the people who trigger us reflect back to us what we’re carrying internally, how we treat ourselves and/or what’s asking for love and healing. For example, if someone ignores us, that can trigger an abandonment wound and our unlovability. The shadow would be to notice how we’re abandoning ourselves.

    If you’re in a place to write, at the top of the page start with “I’m upset because…” Keep writing as long as you need to and then read what you wrote. You’ll notice why you’re really upset as long as you’re not blaming the other person and you stay connected to how you’re feeling.

    If you don’t have the option to write, stop, take a deep breath, and ask yourself, “What am I believing is true about myself and/or this situation?” Ask yourself why you feel this way. Most often it will take you back to the original cause. However, we do have a protector part that may keep us from seeing what’s really going on internally; this part does it’s best to keep us “safe” and it does this by keeping us from feeling our deep hurt and pain.

    This is where compassion is really important and being willing to see honestly, because that’s not so easy. Most often what comes forth is the idea of not being good enough, not feeling worthy, and/or not feeling lovable.

    Realizing those are misunderstandings we bought into because of what happened to us is where the true healing takes place. This is where we do inner child healing, this is the root cause of what we’re experiencing, this is where we give that part of ourselves unconditional acceptance, compassion, love, and a true understanding

    What’s important is to get our minds and bodies in alignment with our truth: we’re beautiful, valuable, worthy, and lovable all the way through. This shifts how our energy is flowing in our body; when our energy pattern shifts internally, our views of ourselves, others, and our reality changes to match our energy.

  • When You Want to Get Back to Normal but Life Will Never Be the Same

    When You Want to Get Back to Normal but Life Will Never Be the Same

    “Don’t waste your time looking back on what you’ve lost. Move on, for life is not meant to be traveled backwards.” ~Unknown

    When I was thirty-eight, I was diagnosed with an aggressive breast cancer. During my treatment, one thought persisted: “I can’t wait until this is over and life goes back to normal.”

    I clung to the belief that things would go back to how they once were, and all that needed to happen was for treatment to end. It gave me something to focus on that felt real during a time of disruption and uncertainty.

    Unfortunately, when treatment ended normal didn’t come.

    My hair grew back thinner and was now curly, when it had previously been straight. I had reconstructed breasts that felt strange. And the mental and physical fatigue from treatment didn’t go away; I needed daily naps just to get through the day.

    Words would often get stuck on the tip of my tongue, unable to come out. And I sometimes had trouble fully recalling recent events.

    I felt fragile, as if I were something less than my pre-cancer self.

    Worst of all was the near-constant worry that my cancer would come back and that I’d never regain my stamina. I was a corporate finance attorney who needed to get back to work full-time yet couldn’t.

    My life didn’t just feel different, it had been turned upside down.

    There was a voice in the back of my head that kept telling me that cancer had somehow changed me and that I needed to figure out how. But that sounded like more work than I had the mental energy for. And I was afraid that figuring it out would disrupt my life even further.

    So, I convinced myself that I just needed more time. And when asked how I was, I told people that things were starting to get back to normal.

    Although time did help heal my body and my memory, I still felt off. It was as if I was a bystander watching a movie of my life play out in front of me. The star of the movie looked and sounded like me but didn’t feel like me.

    This continued for about a year. Until the day I heard my boys laughing hysterically and wondered… when was the last time I laughed? I couldn’t remember.

    In that moment, I decided that it was time to figure out how cancer had changed me and what that meant for my future.

    Once I admitted this to myself, I discovered that I was angry about all the things I’d lost because of my cancer. That listed included things both big and small. Lost income and clients. A vacation to Disney World with my boys. My pre-cancer hair and nails.

    I knew that I needed to grieve these losses but was worried that I would get stuck in grief. Because daily gratitude had helped keep me positive through cancer treatment, and because I had gotten lax in my practice, I recommitted to it. Every night I was grateful for at least three things that I had experienced that day.

    And then I realized that there were things to be grateful for because of my cancer. Cancer forced me to slow down. I was spending more time with my boys. And I was learning to be more resilient.

    So, I started adding these to my gratitude practice as well.

    One of the things I was especially grateful for was the help my family received. Even from people I barely knew. They brought food, took my boys to school, and/or scheduled play dates to distract my boys (and give my poor husband a break).

    Reflecting on these acts made me realize that my core value of serving others had changed. I still wanted to serve people, but in a more personal way so that they could live happier, more fulfilling lives, which isn’t exactly fulfilled through corporate finance work.

    That’s why I had felt so off. My values had changed, but I hadn’t been listening.

    I didn’t know exactly what that meant for my future. But it didn’t matter because I finally had clarity around what was different and how to start moving forward to create my new normal. My redefined value was my compass for doing that (and eventually led me away from practicing law and toward starting a new business).

    Although this story is specific to my life, my experience isn’t unique. A natural part of living includes life-altering experiences and events. Things that bring uncertainty and disruption (and remind you of how fragile life really is).

    A cancer diagnosis or other illness. Death of a loved one. Even a divorce.

    It’s human to want things to return to normal. But instead of getting stuck in that trap:

    1. Identify and then grieve your losses.

    Disruption brings loss (often many things). It’s normal to feel anger, sadness, and other emotions as a result. To move on, you need to grieve your losses and process your emotions.

    Get help if you need it. Human beings were made to connect with and help one another, so there’s no shame in doing what we’re made to do. Plus, it will help speed up the healing process.

    2. Practice gratitude while also focusing on the positives that have come from your situation so that you don’t get stuck in grief.

    There are many things to be grateful for in daily life, regardless of what’s going on. I recommend focusing especially on the little things that you might once have taken for granted —like the smell of hot coffee that helped jolt you out of bed after a late night, the feel of hot water on sore muscles during your morning shower, or the windchimes outside your bedroom window that lulled you to sleep.

    And no matter how difficult life gets, there is always something that you can learn or take from it. Identify what you have learned, how you have grown, and/or the good that has come from your experience.

    3. Reconnect with your personal values to determine how they might have changed.

    Life-altering experiences have a way of altering your viewpoint on life. And that can result in changes to your core personal values. Your values are your inner compass in life, so it’s important to take the time to determine how they might have changed.

    For example, you may have previously valued accomplishment above all else, but now peace is a top value that’s changed how you define success—which means it’s okay if you’re doing less.

    When life gets disrupted, you can’t go back. But you can take back control and create your new normal.

  • Stop Striving, Start Stopping: How to Enjoy Life More

    Stop Striving, Start Stopping: How to Enjoy Life More

    “Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.” ~Andy Rooney

    Three months ago, I was blessed with an awesome opportunity—a free weekend break to Snowdonia, Wales.

    Having experienced chronic health conditions for the past six years of my life, I had been hibernating.

    My days were a black-and-white routine: wake up, drink a smoothie mix, go to work, meditate, come home, lie down, eat, sleep. Yet, my mind was always so busy filled with endless tasks, big dreams, and an expanding sense of pressure as I craved more than what I had.

    When this opportunity arose. I immediately felt fear. What if I couldn’t handle the journey? What if I didn’t get enough sleep? What if I couldn’t find food that I could tolerate?

    Yet, another part of me glittered with gold.

    An adventure. A story. A long lost, forgotten part of me.

    And so, I called a friend.

    The next morning, we were on our way to Wales.

    The seven-hour journey flew by in an ultimate sense of flow.

    We arrived at a quaint, quiet hostel high up on the hills. Sheep scattered their white wool; tiny snowdrops on a vast, barren land. A grey sky painted watercolor clouds, and deep, green trees sang and swayed as they gave way to the wind.

    We sat quietly and observed. High ceilings and red carpets held the space of silence. The wind outside howled and stormed, brewed and bawled, concocting a frenzied feast for the night.

    We drifted off to sleep in our new world. A no man’s land, which oddly felt like home.

    We rose the next morning, with no clear plan but to simply wake and see where the wind would take us. Our eye lashes fluttered as we peered outside to see what surprises the storm had scattered and sown for us.

    We chose to drive around the winding hills of wanderlust, each corner revealing yet another crystal blue lagoon, laced with grey slate and white sheets of snow.

    We parked the car on the left-hand side of the road and looked up in appreciation. Our eyes glistened at the sight of rolling green fields, rusty iron gates, and trickling rivers gently cradled by bracken and boulders. A tiny, snow covered peak painted delicately, precariously and prettily, just waiting to be explored.

    And so, we walked.

    We walked and we walked and saw a lonely red hat, left and long forgotten. My boots stampeded the squelchy mud mashed with fresh fallen snow. We marched on.

    I was determined to reach the top.

    One hour into our climb I squealed with delight, “Look, we’re nearly there!”

    “No,” he said. “That’s just the beginning.”

    And he was right.

    As we reached what I had thought was our peak, another higher, rockier, snowier mountain suddenly arose before our eyes.

    “Oh,” I said.

    And so, we continued to climb for hours and hours.

    Much to my surprise, with every peak we reached, yet another one revealed itself. Each with its own intricate beauties—blue laced lagoons; pretty white blankets of pure, untrodden snow; higher heights with a dazzling white glow.

    Three hours in, I finally realized my drive to reach each new peak was limiting my boundless joy.

    The joy of climbing, the joy of tumbling. The joy of dancing, the joy of being.

    The joy of appreciating, the here, the now, the moment.

    I stopped and turned.

    “I think that’s enough,” I said.

    For once in my life. I didn’t want to reach the top. I didn’t want to conquer the next big challenge. I wanted to stop. I wanted to breathe. I wanted to play.

    And so, we breathed.

    We filled our pale pink lungs with cold, crisp air as we slipped and slid on sheets of ice. We looked at the highest height and laughed. We didn’t need to reach the top. What did we have to prove?

    We had it all right here.

    And so, we made our descent.

    Slowly, lovingly, and longingly.

    Appreciating every layer as if it were the last.

    But this time, we didn’t just walk and walk and walk. We climbed, we ran, we hopped, we danced. We rolled, we sunk, we stepped, and we laughed.

    The blue laced lagoons became sheer slate drops. The pretty white blankets became sludgy stained snow. The dazzling white glow dissolved into a land of green, bracken grass.

    And it was all simply perfect.

    We rolled down our final descent and laughed as we realized that in a land of a thousand acres, we had found the exact lonely red hat that had greeted us at the start.

    We crept through the creaking iron gate and sat on a piece of solid, set stone.

    And for the first time, I knew.

    That the next big thing, the next best thing, the next mountaintop would always be ahead of us. And I realized how much of my life I had wasted. Wanting, waiting, striving. When all there ever really was, was really right here.

    And in the right here, right now, everything was good.

    No matter what the view.

    There was always something to celebrate.

    Every layer of our life is worth living.

    Returning home from this trip, I reflected on my drive, my ambition, my constant search for success. And I realized, this search was, in fact, fueling an unsustainable state of health. On those vast lands, of everything and nothing, I had felt more energized, more free, and more in flow than I had in six long years. For the first time, I felt alive.

    And so, I hope this story inspires you to simply stop striving. For this pattern has tainted so much of my beautiful life here on earth. Stopping the striving, and the endless soul searching, leaves space for our inner peace, our inner flow, our inner glow.

    The mountains will always call us. Higher heights will always tempt us. Newer sights will always blind us. Yet, we have a choice. The choice to sacrifice our present for a future that may never come. Or to lovingly embrace our present as if it’s the only thing we know for sure we have—because it is.

  • How to Get All the Benefits of Meditation by Balancing

    How to Get All the Benefits of Meditation by Balancing

    “Use only that which works and take it from any place you can find it.” ~Bruce Lee

    Ding.

    The meditation timer chimes, and through a small miracle of willpower you managed to sit through an excruciating ten-minute meditation session.

    What you should feel is a sense of accomplishment. After all, you often skip it altogether.

    But instead you feel frustrated having just spent the entire session fidgeting, lost in fantasies that involve bragging to a friend about meditating today.

    Your “monkey mind” is strong. It’s like a whole jungle of monkeys in there.

    I went through the same thing back in 1998 when I first came to the cushion. My mind was like an overgrown garden full of angry racoons.

    Sitting on a pile of pillows, back aching, knees screaming, and mind racing, I would wonder, “Am I doing this right?” But the promise of freedom from my inner turmoil kept me coming back to the practice.

    And, even though I always felt a little better afterward (if for no other reason than I was doing something good for myself), it took months to see more tangible and lasting results.

    What I didn’t realize then was that I already knew how to meditate. I had been doing it for years as a young boy, but it didn’t look anything like the exotic (to me) methods I was trying to learn from my grandmother’s dusty old books.

    In fact, I had completely forgotten about the temporary state of calm, clarity, and focus that settled over me like a soothing balm on those dusty summer afternoons of my childhood.

    Now I meditate every day, but I’ve also returned to some of those earlier “practices” from my youth. Methods that you should know about too because I know how hard it is to adopt a consistent practice.

    Our Attraction to Distraction

    When it comes to focus, you’re fighting an uphill battle.

    Our world is a sea of distraction that you’ve been swimming in your whole life.

    Bombarded with ads, alerts, and alarms, you watch films that jump from one scene to the next with dizzying frequency. Texting causes your brain to slavishly listen for the next “ping.” One-click shopping allows you to gratify any urge almost as quickly as it arises.

    The mind must be trained to focus, and I think you’ll agree that we live in an environment engineered to do just the opposite.

    So don’t feel bad if it’s difficult to quiet your mind and maintain steady attention.

    Traditional meditation doesn’t come easily to anyone (no one I’ve met, at least). And even those who are completely sold on its many benefits often struggle to maintain a consistent practice. Yet they stay committed to the idea of it, hoping they’ll find their groove someday.

    If this sounds like you, don’t despair. There is an easier and fun way to experience that meditative state, one that doesn’t require the traditional butt-on-cushion approach.

    Don’t get me wrong, a formal meditation practice is wonderful and rewarding. It helps you cultivate consistency and discipline; connects you to a tradition; and lays the foundation for more advanced spiritual practices.

    But, while you’re working on that, wouldn’t it be great to start enjoying some of meditation’s benefits right away?

    A Balanced Approach

    As a boy I suffered with intense anxiety and emotional turmoil.

    Maybe it was my parents’ divorce that left me feeling scared and angry. Or possibly the bullying that terrorized my early years.

    I was weaker than the other kids and would become paralyzed with fear when they took turns choking and punching me in the schoolyard. Sometimes I would lie about not feeling well so I didn’t have to go to school.

    I hated that place.

    Paying attention wasn’t a struggle because I didn’t even try. I learned that it was futile. Instead, I stared out the window, daydreaming about running free outdoors.

    And when school let out that’s exactly what I did.

    Across the street from my house were the railroad tracks, the unofficial boundary line of a special world we called the “Pipeyard.”

    This piece of land was dotted with old warehouses and crisscrossed by dirt roads that provided access to the piles of steel pipes being stored until they could be sold to oil leases and other industries.

    There were big fat pipes you could climb inside, and skinny pipes that flexed when you walked out to the middle of them. Sometimes they were piled ten feet high, while other racks were almost empty, allowing the pipes to roll as you climbed on them.

    For an unattended eighties kid, it was the ultimate playground.

    But this dangerous place wasn’t just for fun, it was my sanctuary. A place where I could spend hours alone, balancing back and forth above the dusty weeds.

    And that’s when the magic happened.

    All of my worries and anxiety would disappear. On those narrow pipes there was no room for the nagging fears, the unhelpful inner dialogue, and vague uneasiness that haunted me.

    I would enter a kind of meditative trance, immersed in the sensory experience of my feet touching the surface of the pipe, the little wobbles in my legs, the sound of high-top sneakers scuffing against rusty steel.

    There was power in the simplicity of it.

    It helped that I was outdoors. Alone, quiet, and focused single-mindedly on the task at hand.

    The physicality got me out of my head and into the present moment. When a yoga teacher tells me to get grounded, I know exactly what that feels like.

    In balancing, every moment is novel.

    Step onto any elevated surface with the intent to balance, and your mind will immediately sharpen—a protective mechanism evolution hardwired into our nervous system.

    You could say it’s the ultimate meditation hack.

    With even a little time balancing, you’ll find how quickly you adapt. There is constant and immediate feedback telling you to relax, bend your knees, breathe… and focus.

    Do it for a little longer, and your mind becomes increasingly clear, perceptions heightened—creating a magical experience where time seems to slow down. The same things you experience after a great meditation session.

    The World Is Your Playground

    The beauty is that you don’t need anything (or to go anywhere) to get started.

    No need to endanger your health and safety like I did as a seven-year-old!

    Begin by standing on one leg. If that’s hard, stand near a wall or chair so you can catch yourself. Simply walking along a seam in the sidewalk or on a low curb will be a good starting challenge for many.

    If you connect with this practice, it’s easy to set up obstacles at home.

    I built a balance beam in my living room from an eight-foot-long pine beam purchased at The Home Depot. It cost less than $20, but even a simple 2” x 4” laid flat on the floor should keep you occupied for a while.

    Once you catch the balance bug, something clicks and you’ll see obstacles everywhere you go: Parking curbs, low walls, railings, fences, logs, rocks.

    Balancing is a blast. It adds an element of play, creativity, and adventure to your day. Remember the game “hot lava?” Whatever you do, don’t touch the ground!

    Here are a few things to keep in mind for better results.

    Don’t do anything reckless, please. Stay off the railroad tracks and bridge railings.

    Keep in mind your physical condition and abilities.

    Always test logs, rocks, or railings for strength and stability before you hop on. I’ve taken some spills, but I’m in good shape and know how to safely take a fall.

    Start with simple, small, and safe.

    This is about adding just enough challenge and complexity to focus the mind. And it doesn’t take much. Especially if you don’t have much experience balancing.

    Here are three tips to help you maintain or regain your balance:

    Breathe deeply into your abdomen by imagining you’re inflating a balloon in your gut with each inhalation. Inhale to fill the balloon, and as you exhale the balloon deflates.

    Relax (especially your upper body) as much as possible on each exhalation. When you do this, relax and bend your knees until you regain your composure.

    As you exhale and relax, drop your awareness down toward the object you’re balancing on. One of my qigong teachers would often say, “Where the mind goes, energy flows.”

    With these safety and balance pointers in mind, you will be poised to start benefiting from your new meditation practice.

    Meditation Is Back on the Menu

    The benefits of regular meditation are undeniable, and now you can drop into that state of mind many times a day.

    The more you do it, the better you get. Your nervous system becomes conditioned to enter an optimal state faster and more effectively with each session.

    Balance evokes the memory and energy of play, often becoming a game to see how long or far you can make it without falling.

    The cool thing?

    Your motivation to do a more traditional practice will likely increase.

    Why?

    Because you’ll be in the habit of dropping into a meditative state. We enjoy doing things we’re good at, and meditation is no different.

    Do your neck, back, and knees get sore during sitting practice?

    Not a problem with balancing. You can alternate between standing in one place or moving. We sit too much already, it’s better for us to spend more time in mindful movement.

    Think of balancing as a form of dynamic meditation practice, similar to Tai Chi, qigong, or yoga. For balancing to be more meditative, be quiet, move slowly, and bring your full awareness and attention to your body and breath.

    And finally, don’t forget that balance is a fundamental physical ability, one that declines with age.

    For you, that shouldn’t be a problem.

    Finding Stillness in Movement

    Meditation won’t always be so difficult.

    Sure, there are good and bad days, but at some point you get past the struggle and mostly enjoy it.

    Fortunately, there are easier ways to get most of the benefits that don’t require the superhuman discipline required to meditate consistently in today’s distracting world.

    Keep it fun, make it a game, and have some adventures.

    Stay safe out there.