Sarah,

I’m sorry for your painful feelings, and can understand why it is a tricky balance to grow compassionate toward others while protecting our own tender hearts. Sometimes we get wrapped up in what we wish we had and overlook what we actually do. Said differently, it makes sense that you’d want something different, but its also not what you have. What a conundrum! A few things came to heart as I read your words.

Perhaps some or most of the pressure arises from your jealousy and envy. Consider that when we are thirsty, if someone else has a nice, tall, cool glass of water, we look on with longing for what they have. When that longing festers, we may even become resentful and angry… why do they get that glass, what did they do to deserve it? This moves us in a faulty direction, such as trying to take their water, or make them feel guilty for drinking it. However, the solution is always to recognize our own thirst, keep our attention on that, then find and drink our own water.

For instance, you’ve been through a lot of changes, and your delicate heart is stable to a point, but still healing. Perhaps as you see your daughter going out, your family (ex, parents, daughter) sharing joy, you feel left out, left behind, “what about me?” That’s normal, usual, and is the thirst. Instead of trying to stop them from gathering, sharing joy, consider approaching your thirst directly by engaging in your own joys, your own loving moments. Self nurture, listen to soft music, take a bath, meditate, walk in nature… reconnect to your own body, your own ability to comfort and nurture your light back to strength, your own heart back to peacefulness.

Then, perhaps what will arise in your view is an appreciative joy for your daughter to have such beautiful parents and grandparents. How loved she is! Consider that she gets to have love and laughter with her dad and mom, and how wonderful that must be! For her, there is almost certainly no competition, no comparisons, just the hugs and toys and laughter. And, deep within us is the yearning for our kids to have exactly that! So, why all the fuss? Said differently, in the absence of thirst, when others connect and have fun, we celebrate with joy for our friends and family finding peace and grace.

In your relationship with your mom, consider that perhaps you’re still stuck in a child-like mode. As a child, it is important for parents to give up their needs for the needs of their kids. When their kids are adults, it is less necessary, and the kids have to grow up and see them as people and parents. Said differently, your mom’s feelings are important, and it sounds like you’ve been selfish. With all the change and grief and difficult emotions its normal, and understandable. Consider that she perhaps wants to spend as much time as possible with her family, including you, your daughter and your ex. So, she says “I want to see them, so i see them. What is your problem?” “But mommy, I am jealous, uncomfortable, and suffering.” It would be lovely if she just took you in her arms and sung you to warmth. If wishes were fishes, beggars would drown! Instead, perhaps she gets bristled and defensive, such as “what about my feelings?” After all, she is a woman and not just your mother, and so has her own dance to dance.

That being said, remember that it isn’t that you should just go thirsty. Said differently, its not as though your side is invalid, unimportant, or meaningless. Your suffering is important, dear sister, its just that if you can manage to settle it on your side, by tending your own needs directly, then you won’t rely on other people changing to make you happy. You’ll just be happy, independent of their lunches, your daughter having experiences you aren’t a part of, or your mom tending her own garden in her own way.

Finally, it can really boost that sense of happiness to spend time wishing for the happiness of others for their sake. For instance, spending time wishing your daughter to have joy and connection and beauty all around her, just because you wish her to have that, to see that, and feel safe, content, and happy. This can be strengthened and well rooted through a metta practice. Consider searching YouTube for “guided metta meditation” if interested. Metta is the feeling of loving friendship and well wishing, and goes a long way to recharge and refuel our steadfast desire for the wellbeing of others. Not only does this make the experiences of others more spacious (such as seeing and respecting your mom’s desires and your own simultaneously) but it also helps our heart becomes strong and equanimitous, which sets us free. Said differently, often times we falsely withhold forgiveness because we feel the other needs to earn it first. Forgiveness is not something that can be earned, only given. Said differently, we forgive and let go of other people’s trespassing for our own freedom, not for them, not because they deserve it… but because we do. We deserve to be free of resentment, which is what forgiveness settles for us.

With warmth,
Matt

Kerry,

I’m sorry for your suffering, and can understand why it may seem the present is so dissatisfying. From your description, it seems like you don’t enjoy yourself very much, such as “needing to change” or “I’m such a…” and so forth. So, instead of settling into the present and feeling “I am a flower, slowing unfolding its petals as the sun and rain come and go”, it becomes “jeeze, I keep screwing up over and over.” A few things came to heart as I read your words.

Consider that perhaps you’re stuck in a loop. Imagine for a moment that your house is very messy. Every time you come home, you see the mess, feel ashamed for it, and try to ignore it to feel happy again. However, it takes a lot of strength, energy, to push away all the mess from your mind. Then, when you meditate, you recapture that strength, root it back into the moment, and all the mess becomes visible again. So, why in the world would you want to meditate… it makes everything look messy!

The solution to the loop is twofold. First, there is no shame in making mistakes, dear friend. Almost all of us have messy houses in one way or another. We are still good people, we still dance and sing with love out in the world. The messy closets are normal, usual, and we work to accept them as is. Not to say that we just “ignore” or continue on like it doesn’t matter, because of course it does. Rather, we accept that we have a messy house, that we want a cleaner one, and will sort and settle our mess over time. Said differently, just because your life has become something you feel ashamed of doesn’t mean there is actually anything wrong with you or your life. It just means you desire something different, which is fine. Its not “wrong”, its only what it is… a set of conditions: a hand me down from our ancestors meeting with our own unique choices and perceptions.

Second, and this is where the magic happens, we can pull our view back to wishing ourselves and others happiness, and rest in that intention. Yes, there is mess, but we wish to be happy. Yes, other people have a mess, but we wish them to be happy. Consider starting a metta meditation practice, which helps this intention become well rooted. Said differently, when we have acceptance of where we are, we bolster the light and warmth within us, which is what turns our “mess of this and that” into an adventure of self discovery. Otherwise, its a pile of garbage, a task we have to do, an ickiness we have to remove before we can be happy. Unnecessary! Its possible to be content, peaceful, and inquisitive as we do our sorting, settling and growing. Consider searching YouTube for “Sharon Salzburg guided metta meditation” if interested. Were I in your shoes, I would even set aside the mindfulness meditation for a few weeks and switch exclusively to metta practice. This will give a warm, smooth base for your mindful practice to grow from.

Finally, don’t forget to play. This “last three years” stuff packs a whollop! Growing a momentum that will help settle all of that isn’t about continuous effort in sorting, its about finding the balance between hard work and joy. Someone said that if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life. Rephrased, if we grow warm through a metta practice, our dance of growth carries joy with it the whole time as we curiously sort out our pile and let it go. Namaste.

With warmth,
Matt

Helen,

I can understand why it would feel painful when someone cancels or stands us up. Consider, as you’re seeing, that it is painful because you make it about you, which is normal, usual, but unnecessary. If you know she has difficulties, why does your patience collapse? Why is it about Helen?

I have a friend that is very similar. Cancels a lot, is late most of the time, and often will get involved in stuff and go long periods without contacting me. It doesn’t bother me, because my garden is in full bloom. Said differently, why fret over people doing what they do? His “neglect” of the friendship only hurts if I make it about me, which would be silly. Instead, I just do my thing, playing with wife, my kids, helping people, and wait patiently.

Consider a lesson my teacher gave me about being a good dharma friend. We are approached, and asked for help in cultivating mindfulness, and suggest a book or practice. Two weeks later, the friend returns, and asks for help again. We ask about the book or practice and find out nothing has been read, nothing has been practiced. That’s OK, normal, things blossom when conditions are right (and not before) so we can simply nod, smile, and say “OK, what’s been going on?” We don’t take it personally, don’t resent, judge or turn away. We just breathe in, refresh our presence of mind, and engage with where they are right then. No “should have read” or “should have practiced”, only “so what’s up, dear sister, and how can I help?”

As we settle and grow our roots into our own actions and intentions, perhaps it becomes more and more obvious that blaming others for our suffering is never helpful or righteous. Sure, she has patterns that bristle your sense of value, but that struggle is on your side, and settled on your side. For instance, imagine what difficulty it is to initiate something when we have anxiety. Pressing her to change in order to reduce your pain is reasonable, but perhaps not compassionate. If compassion were there instead of pain, there would only be the spaciousness inside you, accepting her for exactly how she is. “Fear not, dear sister, when you are ready I will be here with my heart open and glowing.” instead of “Why can’t you be different, you hurt my feelings!”

Picture a gardener getting upset and agitated because one of the buds hasn’t opened yet. Silly, neh?

With warmth,
Matt

Helen,

It almost seems unjust, dear sister, that one of us with a heart as brilliant as your own would carry such a heavy tangle. I’ll do my best, you do yours, and maybe with a little luck we can help it unweave. Don’t despair dear sister, there is always a path to joy. A few things came to heart as I read your words.

Consider that as you grew up, perhaps you learned the impermanence of connections in a way burdened (veiled) by a dad that moves around a lot. Said differently, perhaps because you had little control of friendships, you learned a powerlessness. At any time, you could be up and transferred into a foreign place, ignored, alone. Not knowing the language, not knowing the culture. And, during middle school especially, when bodies change a lot, things get awkward, voices break, hips widen…. what a minefield to get dumped into! Its no wonder it doesn’t feel safe!

So consider that perhaps your response to this was the “mirror dance”, whereby you attempted to adapt who you are to fit the new culture, to “fit in”. But, change takes a lot of time…and so perhaps you wore a mask in the meantime. So, even when you did connect a little, you were so far invested in the personality you created (mask) that it was difficult to be open, relaxed, free, authentic. Plus, how could you know if they loved the real you? Perhaps you felt scared, thirsty, needy, lonely… could they really love you?

Follow that with a few betrayals and its no wonder your view of impermanence slid toward nihilism or meaninglessness. Said differently, sometimes when we lose a loved one, we falsely try to sidestep our grief by “accepting the shitty nature of” impermanence in the world. Instead of feeling the loss, grieving, healing and moving on, it stacks up on itself, like running on a boken bone. So, the lesson we learn is “why bother”, because connecting is painful.

This attitude dims our inner light, often creating a thirst or agitation for warmth, light, truth, connection. Said differently, imagine a tree that has been uprooted many times. There is a rich and needed nourishment from the soil, but she has put so much effort into growing those roots, and they can get torn from her without rhyme or reason (dad moves). So, when she does find a spot that seems fertile, a whole lot of effort goes into growing that root. So, each and every root matters a ton (think of a 40 ft tree with three roots, how strong they each must be). Also, each root gets put under a tremendous pressure.

And, sadly, people are imperfect, so when we dig our roots into them, we often get a mix of light and shadow. They may be a great listener, but smell like cheese. They may like all the same movies as you, but habitually flirt with all men, including your husband. We are all a mix of yin and yang, skillful and unskillful, wise fools and so forth. Consider that perhaps because you had sooooo much of your feeling of safety, home, relaxed, authenticity invested in the connection, it became more dramatic. The harmony was soooo good, and the dissonance was sooooo bad. So, with each friendship comes this package of suffering. In one moment, perhaps they are brilliant, nourishing, succulent. In the next, perhaps agitating, uncomfortable, failures.

So, what to do? This I think distills to two main needs you’re lacking. The first is all about safety, grounding, putting down roots… passing through the veil of personality so you can be authentic with people. Said differently, you’re a mix of a resonant beauty and a tangled mess, and that’s OK. You’re a mix of being authentic and trying too hard, and that’s OK. You’re a mix of a shining bright during the day and retreating to the cave at night, and that’s OK. All lovable, all normal. When we can accept the paradox, the balance, the harmonic, then we can grow those roots directly and within, as we become honest. Honest with ourselves, in being frank with what we’re doing, seeing and so forth. Being honest with our partner, such as not hiding our joy, our imperfections, emotional turmoil, yearning for romance or depth. Being honest with others, such as treating them fairly, shining the light we have the best we can, but using our distinct heartsong.

The second is perhaps a need to play more. Sometimes when we can see deeply, we get so busy puzzling things out we forget that there is an inner child inside us. Our life doesn’t have to be a heavy mess of untangling our issues. When we were kids, we could sit with a stick and some dirt and be on an adventure. So instead of “how do I overcome the inability I have to rest compassionately with other people’s energy”, consider “hmmm, I think this sandbox might be more fun if other kids were here, I wonder where to find them”.

Perhaps if my daughter were to ask that to me, I might say to her “hey, over there… just go talk to them, be open, and see if they want to play”. For you, its a little more sophisticated, but its the same. Consider that making the first move is a lot easier when you move toward them, instead of toward you. For instance, if you hear someone that sounds interesting talking about something you’re curious about, bring out the kid in you and see if they want to play on that playground. Said differently, if they like something you like, or even something you’re curious about, ask them if theyd like to do it. This is like stepping toward some one, and is akin to listening. The trick is, if you spend a month building up the “perfect” moment to ask someone, or try once in a blue moon, then a “no thanks” might agitate a lot. Do it 100 times a month, and 75 won’t seem like any rejection, because you’ll have 25 platonic dates. Or whatever.

Finally, it isn’t your light that makes you lovable. Said differently, its not a big smile that generates intimacy, its not hugs. Its smiling when you’re happy, crying when you’re sad, letting our where you really are, expressing… and then letting it go so you can have the space to listen as they express. This is how heart to heart connections happen in realtime, not in smarmy sentiments, inauthentic perfume, or trying to be warm when we feel cold.

Namaste, sister, may your heartsong come with ease and grace.

With warmth,
Matt

Yawlie,

I’m not sure what you’d like to know… but feel free to post a question (tinybuddha has a rich family of perspectives), or if you’re uncomfortable with that, leave an email address and I’ll get in touch with you.

With warmth,
Matt

Dee,

I’m greatful for Mark’s heartfelt words, and feel he captured beautifully a good plan. Consider one small addition. Turning away is not abandoning him, its actually quite the opposite. By cultivating serentiy for the situation as it rests now, and letting it go, your attentions can return to growing your newly budding garden. As you attend what you can affect (13 year old, photography, healing your heartbreak, etc.) and let your heartsong get pumping, when there is something you can do, you’ll be bright and ready. This gives you both the best chance of connecting. Said differently, let your heart grow where it can, and when the time is right, you’ll know what to do. Cradle him in your arms and help him remember how loved he is, or put your foot in his butt and shove him out of the nest (or anywhere in between). Your heart will know.

Its one of our paradoxes… we can love and hope for the bud to bloom, but it doesn’t until the conditions are right. So we shine and pour and hope for the best.

How is the photography coming? If you have anything you’d like to share, I’d love to see it! 🙂

With warmth,
Matt

That doesn’t seem like something a friend would do. Do you feel passionate about your job? Are you happy? Sometimes when we don’t make progress, like you’ve described, its because we’d be happier doing something else, somewhere else. When we are following our heart, a “friend” couldn’t stand in our way, much like throwing buckets of water at the sky won’t stop the rain.