Tiny Buddha

Tag: anxiety

  • What Your “Negative” Emotions Are Trying to Tell You

    What Your “Negative” Emotions Are Trying to Tell You

    “Life will only change when you become more committed to your dreams than you are to your comfort zone.” ~Billy Cox

    It might sound like a senseless paradox to say that the “bad” or “dark” things about you are actually your “light” or “positive” qualities. However, this isn’t just a feel-good platitude; it’s literally true. The things we struggle with the most are our greatest sources of empowerment.

    Because this process is not exactly front and center of modern mental health and wellness movements, committing to your own healing can seem daunting and hopeless. Few people have truly learned how to welcome their painful, suppressed emotions, listen to what they have to say, and come out the other side stronger.

    But in today’s world, it’s become increasingly difficult to avoid, suppress, and force ourselves into fake states of positivity. Clearly, our “negative” emotions are bubbling to the surface where they cannot be ignored any longer.

    We see anger and pain overflowing into the social and political sphere, in schools where violence occurs, and all over the news. According to ScienceDaily, “121 million people worldwide are impacted by depression, and 850,000 commit suicide every year.”

    It’s no wonder so many of us get stuck in apathy, pessimism, and distractions. Life is challenging us right now, and the first necessary step is to actually acknowledge that we are in pain. This sounds incredibly simple, yet so many people choose to fight their symptoms rather than committing to understanding them.

    On social media I see a lot of hashtags exemplifying our resistance to pain, like #depressionwarrior and #fightanxiety. And while it’s totally understandable to want to conquer the pain you’ve felt for so long, mental illness is not something to be battled and conquered. It doesn’t need to be fought, but rather, listened to and respected.

    Just as the physical body has innate intelligence, so does the emotional system. We don’t want to wage war against the very emotions that are trying to alert us of a problem and walk us through the solution. From a basic state of resistance, no healing can occur.

    In 2018, I gave up on a painful relationship, moved to a new apartment, started a new job, and finished writing my first real book. I grew up in so many ways, and processed more trauma and healed more aspects of myself than I ever thought possible. For the first time, my growth and progress were unmistakable—I didn’t need to squint to see that I had become wiser, stronger, and more capable in the real world.

    But my radical transformation was not exciting or easy. It wasn’t a fight, and it sure wasn’t the kind of glamorous story of triumph that goes viral nowadays. My life circumstances pushed me into a sort of hibernation—a state where I spent most of my time reading, meditating, resting, crying, and just doing whatever I had to do.

    This is the thing: True healing doesn’t look cool. It’s not a fighting and a conquering, but a softer, more intuitive process. This is why society resists it so much.

    True healing requires us to be counter-cultural. It requires us to be awkward, to stay in on Friday nights, to take strange trips or buy strange things that we can’t quite explain to other people.

    Healing requires vulnerability and radical allegiance to yourself.

    This is why much of my healing took so long. Prior to 2018, I wasn’t ready to commit to myself no matter what. I was too impressionable and willing to change for other people.

    The biggest lesson I learned is that my mental “illness” was not really illness or dysfunction at all. In truth, my emotions were messengers I had been ignoring, judging harshly, and trying to get rid of. My negative emotions were on my side, not against me.

    Negative emotions are not something you need to fight or fix any more than you’d need to fight or fix your immune system as it tries to ward off an infection. This is the great misunderstanding of our time.

    Many people never heal from mental illness because they mistake the symptoms for the problem. The symptoms are your obvious negative emotions, but the root problems are hidden. For example, you may be depressed because you don’t express yourself freely. On top of this, you may have a deep-seated fear that if you express yourself, you’ll be scolded.

    There are often several layers of negative beliefs and fears in our subconscious (or “shadow”), but all we ever see are the symptoms (e.g. depression, anxiety, etc.). I lived much of my life trying to solve my emotions until I learned a much more effective approach: listening to my emotions.

    So how do we actually heal?

    1. Listen to your mental “illness.”

    This is the simplest first step you can take. Every time you feel unpleasant symptoms arise, no matter what they are, make time that day to stop and listen. You can do this through a simple meditation in which you quiet your mind and let the emotions have space to express themselves.

    If it suits you better, you can also write all your current negative emotions on a page. There’s no need to worry about any emotion besides what is activated in the moment. What are you currently struggling with? Oftentimes, it will be connected to your other issues any way. Let that particular emotion speak.

    2. Ask your mental “illness” questions.

    Another thing I learned is how surprisingly easy it is to get answers from your subconscious mind. As soon as these emotions are given time, space, attention, and unconditional love, they waste no time revealing what you need to know.

    Maybe the message is simply that you need more time in your day to rest, or that you need to leave a serious relationship. Whether big or small, the guidance you receive will help you shift your life in a way that soothes your symptoms. This is the beginning of true healing.

    3. Practice gratitude for your symptoms.

    This is probably the most challenging thing on the list. Your symptoms really are guiding you and alerting you to what is out of alignment in your life. However, we’ve spent so much time suppressing and denying them that they’ve caused us significant pain.

    Our symptoms are like children throwing tantrums. If we don’t listen, they get louder and angrier. This is why we need to “make up” with our symptoms just as we would with a friend with whom we had a fight.

    Once you literally start to notice how your symptoms are subtly guiding you toward solutions, it becomes much easier to feel grateful for them (and trust them!). This step took me a bit of practice, but over time I found that I could have gratitude for my symptoms without any effort or forcing.

    4. Commit to the long haul.

    At first this may seem discouraging. But when I look back, I see that most of my wasted time was spent desperately trying to rush to the “perfect” life. I wanted to magically arrive at a place where I had no emotional or physical issues, and everything looked pristine on the surface. It was during these periods that I felt the most dissatisfaction and pain.

    Committing to the long haul means you have decided that no matter what, you will not abandon yourself. You will not try to skip out on true progress and growth for a quick and easy “fix.” You will not try to appear perfect from the outside.

    Once you make this commitment, your healing can occur faster and with more joy and ease throughout the process.

    So if you are at your wits end, pause. Stop resisting your circumstances and try a new approach. What if your emotions weren’t out to get you? What if they honestly wanted to help move you forward?

  • How Going Offline for 10 Days Healed My Anxiety

    How Going Offline for 10 Days Healed My Anxiety

    “Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a while, including you.” ~Anne Lamott

    I wake up anxious a little past 4am. My heart is beating faster than usual, and I’m aware of an unsettled feeling, like life-crushing doom is imminent. For a moment, I wonder if I just felt the first waves of a massive earthquake. Or perhaps those were gunshots I just heard in the distance.

    But no, it’s just another night in my bedroom in the Bay Area, and everything is utterly fine. But somehow, my central nervous system isn’t so sure.

    The problem is the thick swirl of news media, social media, and talk among friends I carry with me every day. It’s a toxic milkshake of speculation, fear, and anger that I consume, and it has me deeply rattled. I absorb this stuff like crazy.

    I suspect I’m not alone.

    I know for a fact that my anxiety isn’t just some vague menopause symptom, but the result of my deep immersion in the current zeitgeist. I know this because recently I left the whole thing behind for ten glorious days. I went to Belize, and left my phone and my laptop sitting on my bureau at home.

    For most of that time, my wife and I lived on a small island thirty miles out to sea with only a bit of generator electricity. We avoided the extremely spotty Wifi like the plague. Instead, we woke with the sunrise, and sat on the deck outside our grass hut, watching manta rays swim in the shallow water below us and pelicans perch nearby. The biggest thing that happened every morning was the osprey that left its nest and circled above us.

    It was life in slow-mo all the way. And it was transformative.

    For ten entire days I didn’t think about politics or how America is devolving into an angry, wild place where public figures regularly get death threats, and social media has become the equivalent of High Noon with guns drawn.

    The toxic interplay of who is right or wrong, or the future of our democracy ceased to exist as we sailed toward that island on our big, well-worn catamaran. In fact, by the time we reached our refuge, those tapes had disappeared altogether.

    Instead, we swam and we rested. We snorkeled. We read. We had some adventures involving caves and kayaks, and we hung out with the other guests. The two Belizian women who cooked for us observed us Americans with our expensive toys, and they took it all with a grain of salt. In their presence, I could suddenly see how silly and overwrought all this intensity has become.

    Ironically, when given the opportunity to present a gift to a school in one of Belize’s small seaside towns, I brought along a laptop and an iPad I no longer used. An elementary school teacher received the gifts with gratitude. Yet, as I gave them to her, I noticed I felt wary.

    I could swear she seemed wary as well.

    What new layer of complexity was I bringing onto these shores? And was it even necessary for life to go on happily and productively?

    When we returned to the so-called civilized world, here’s what I immediately noticed:

    1. I was now leery of all my previously trusted news sources.

    Suddenly I could clearly see the anguished bias all around me, going in all sorts of directions left and right. The newsfeeds I’d previously consumed with abandon now seemed more biased than I’d realized. I was left with one option—either drop out and start reading the classics for entertainment, or proceed with caution.

    2. I had more time to sit alone with nothing in particular to do.

    Before my media fast, that was a bad idea. Hey, I had social media to check and emails to catch up on. The day’s events were going by in a high-speed blur, and I had to keep up. But now life had slowed to the pace of my emotions. I could breathe again. And so, for a while at least, I enjoyed spacing out.

    3. My anxiety disappeared. For a while.

    So did my knockdown ambition, and my desire to overwork. Everything had just … chilled. Enormously. For a while I slept easily. I no longer drove myself to do the impossible, and my to-do list now seemed balanced and reasonable. In turn, I no longer woke up with my heart pounding, nor did I have qualms overcome me during the day. Instead, I got ideas. Inspiration landed on me, and I was energized enough to pursue it.

    4. Life became lighter and more fun.

    Now I found my day-to-day routine to be far more delightful. It simply was, and for no particular reason. I laughed more. I found myself singing while I did chores around the house. Since I wasn’t consuming the same fire hose of media, I now had time to have more fun.

    5. I complained less.

    Now that I was unplugged, I found that I didn’t have to share my opinion on every last political matter happening around me. Nor did I need to engage in fights on social media. In turn, I didn’t lie awake as much, gnashing my teeth.

    6. I thought about things I’d long forgotten.

    Like my childhood. I tapped into long buried feelings sitting in that glorious deck chair of mine, like how it felt to be a vulnerable kid at school, and what joy I found in standing in the water, letting the waves rush my legs. I rediscovered the great internal monologue I have going all the time. It had long been forgotten.

    7. I had more time just to hang with people.

    This was, perhaps, the greatest gift of all. To quietly sit at a table, chatting over empty coffee cups with relative strangers, or perhaps my wife. There we all were, on our island for days on end. So we might as well talk, right? I found people to be fascinating once again.

    In fact, I was discovering JOMO—the Joy of Missing Out. Turns out this is a thing. Those exact words were projected on the screen behind Sundar Pichai, CEO of Google, at a recent developer’s conference. Apparently even the tech people want to turn off their screens.

    So one must ask the question: did all of this good stuff last?

    In a word, no.

    It’s been several months since this experiment ended, and I am, of course, back online. The pull is simply too great to ignore and avoid. Since I actually make my living online, disappearing off the grid is not even an option. And yet, I’ve learned a lot.

    I no longer subscribe to certain reactionary newsfeeds. While I may be more out of touch, this is alarming material, guaranteed to not make me feel better. So no, I no longer read these emails. And I cherry pick what I read in my newsfeeds with care.

    I no longer reach for my phone as soon as I open my eyes every morning. I also try not to check my email on my phone at all, something I often did while waiting in the Bay Area’s many lines. In fact, I’ve learned to leave my phone at home when I go out.

    Instead, I chat with other people while waiting in the line, or I just look around. Or I zone out and enjoy what brain scientists call the “default mode,” the fertile, random, and enjoyable hopscotch the brain does while at rest. I realized now that I’d been missing that hopscotch. Instead, I enjoy the fertile luxury of a good daydream.

    My late daughter Teal would have understood my need to drop out perfectly. Even at age twenty-two, she refused to have a smart phone. She embraced the world, eyes forward and heart engaged, making friends wherever she went. And she did so until her sudden death from a medically unexplainable cardiac arrest in 2012.

    “Life is now,” she liked to say. Usually she reminded me of this as she headed out the door with her travel guitar and her backpack, on a spontaneous decision to busk her way across the other side of the world.

    At the time, I couldn’t begin to fathom what she was talking about. “Too simplistic” I thought, dismissively, as I wrote it off to my daughter’s relentless free spirit. But as it turns out, Teal was right. So now I am left with this very big lesson.

    Not only is life now, life is rich, random and filled with delight. The trick is to unplug long enough to actually experience it.

    Illustration by Kaitlin Roth

  • How to Tackle Fear and Anxiety Cognitively, Behaviorally, and Spiritually

    How to Tackle Fear and Anxiety Cognitively, Behaviorally, and Spiritually

    “The beautiful thing about fear is that when you run to it, it runs away.” ~Robin Sharma

    During my first-grade choir concert, my classmate, Meg, fainted from the top row of the bleachers, and in a subconscious gesture of empathy, I went down right after her, breaking my glasses and flailing on the gymnasium floor.

    It’s possible that this triggered some kind of coping mechanism in my brain, because I started fainting again and again.

    One time I fainted at the dentist’s office—immediately after the dentist injected me with my first round of Novocain—then months later in a hospital parking lot after a small medical procedure.

    I also fainted a few days after getting my ears pierced. I was showing my grandmother my new gold studs, and I happened to look toward the TV just as Nellie Olsen fainted during a Little House on the Prairie rerun, and that was enough, over I went.

    What affected me the most during those early years of growing up was not the tangible act of fainting, but my anxiety anticipating when and where I would faint next. Whenever I wasn’t moving, whenever I tried to be still, my thoughts traveled to the fear of fainting. And because of that, I tried to keep my mind constantly active.

    I had several tests, and the doctors found nothing medically wrong with me. I literally scared myself to the point of fainting. Though I never let fear prevent me from doing things, inner struggles and cautious dread were always present. It made living in the moment very difficult.

    Going to church became a major source of stress for me. I had time to think, worry, and become anxious. These were ideal fainting conditions for me.

    I’d have panic attacks during Sunday mass without anyone knowing. Moments of pulling my hair, pinching my skin, feeling my heart pounding out of my chest were common, all while trying to will myself from fainting.

    This continued for years.

    I seemed to outgrow my anxiety attacks after high school, and I continued through college and beyond, without thinking much about my prior angst. I got married and had three children. Then, during my late thirties, my anxiety returned with a vengeance, escalating to a fear of driving on the highway.

    Things got worse in my early forties when I developed major health concerns. Again, there was nothing physically wrong with me; I was purely manifesting physical symptoms from worrying about a certain disease or medical condition. It was quite a skill—one that I was not proud of, but one that certainly awakened me to the power of my mind.

    My fear ran deep and was so powerful that it physically controlled me.

    The more I tried to ignore my anxiety, the more it escalated until it gradually controlled the person I was becoming. I didn’t like “me” anymore.

    I was afraid of everything. I talked to my doctor, read every Louise Hay book, went to biofeedback, performed EFT, and saw a few therapists. I would do anything to remember who I was before the fear of living got in my way.

    The funny thing was, no one else noticed because this overwhelming anxiety never stopped me from doing anything. It just sucked the spirit out of me. No one knew that, to me, life felt really scary.

    I wanted to crawl up in a ball with my kids. I wanted to control every waking move I made and make sure we were all safe.

    I remember a profound moment one fall day after finishing a run. Out of breath and standing there with my hands on my knees, I looked up at the trees and saw a leaf floating from a tree. I stood and prayed that I’d learn how to let go and release my inner struggles and be as light and free as that leaf.

    That was when I decided I would not consume my every waking moment with this fear. I would be the person who chose to live life fully.

    So this is what I know now.

    To let go of something, you need to lean in.

    This is counterintuitive. We all have a built-in “fight, flight or freeze” response to stress, which is a physiological reaction that occurs in the presence of fear and is exhibited by the urge to flee, run, or freeze and do nothing.

    In many ways, anxiety can protect us from harmful situations. In other ways, when the threat is not harmful, it can prevent us from functioning at our fullest capacity and experiencing all that life has to offer.

    I spent many years of my life trying to push fear away and running as fast as I could from it. But what I needed to do was to allow myself to lean into fear, to work through it, to face it head on. I needed to show my anxiety and fear that I wasn’t afraid anymore.

    This was a frightening act. But the alternative was to continue to run—and this was even more terrifying.

    So I began to allow, to surrender, to trust. I stopped fighting and made a conscious choice to choose love over fear—again and again. Battling and rejecting a part of myself had only caused feelings of isolation and anguish.

    I searched to understand the power of my subconscious and began to process fainting as my defense mechanism. I realized that if I was going to move through this fear, I’d have to love and accept myself, including the anxiety within me.

    I stood firmly anchored in the ground of acceptance. Of all of me. And the result was a newer, more powerful version of myself—one that no longer was afraid to live.

    If you’re struggling with anxiety and/or fear, here are eight ways to move forward. In more severe instances, you may need the help of a medical professional.

    Cognitively

    Acknowledge your fear.

    This is a major first step. We often ignore our fears and anxiety for so long that they progress into a part of us.

    Compartmentalize your fear, separating it from yourself. Then peel back the layers and find out what it is that you fear. Is it disappointing others? Rejection? Failing? Something else? Recognize that it’s holding you back from becoming your true self.

    Fear is sneaky. It can be quite obvious, presenting as physiological symptoms, or it can be much more obscure. Procrastination, perfectionism, and overwhelm can all be forms of fear.

    Explore if any of these are showing up for you and consider how they may be contributing to your lack of progress.  When you pinpoint the underlying fear and how it is presenting itself, you diminish the power it has over you.

    Initially, I believed I was afraid of fainting. After much reflection with my coach and therapist, and as my thoughts evolved, I was able to identify my underlying fear—the fear of dying. Every time I fainted, my blood pressure would drop and I’d lose consciousness, essentially looking death in the eyes over and over again.

    Once I recognized this, even though it was still scary, the awareness allowed me to use coping skills to move forward.

    Lean into your fear.

    When you feel like running or fleeing, it’s time to face your fear with courage. Although our automatic response is often to run away, numb our feelings, or somehow distract ourselves, escaping only temporarily relieves anxiety. Fear will return, possibly in a different form, until you choose to confront it with kindness.

    Bring yourself into the present moment by noticing the sensations in your body. Where Is fear showing up as discomfort for you? In your chest? Your stomach? Your throat? Fully experience it.

    Befriend your fear.

    Let fear know that you’re not afraid of it. Ask it: What are you trying to tell me? What do you want me to know?

    What I learned from asking these questions was that fear was trying to keep me safe from harm. A part of my past needed to be acknowledged and fear was whispering, “You can’t move on and become your most powerful self until you work through this, my friend.”

    Then thank it for trying to protect you in the only way it knew how.

    Behaviorally

    Exercise.

    For me, running has always been a huge stress reliever. Whether it’s running or yoga or something in between, movement calms you down by releasing chemicals called endorphins.

    Make healthy choices.

    When I feel stressed, I limit my sugar and caffeine intake, since sugar crashes can cause irritability and tension, and stimulants like caffeine can worsen anxiety and even trigger panic attacks. A well-balanced diet full of healthy, whole foods will help also alleviate anxiety. Be sure to eat breakfast to keep your blood sugar steady, and stay hydrated to help your mind and body perform at their best.

    Breathe.

    Since I have made yoga and meditation a part of my daily routine, I’ve noticed a difference in how I react to stressful situations. Slotting this time into my morning ensures I get it done before the day gets busy. When you’re in the middle of a panic attack, it’s harder to move into meditation and deep breathing, so it’s helpful to make this an everyday practice.

    Spiritually

    Trust.

    Fear and anxiety can stem from self-doubt and insecurities. If you regularly work on accessing your inner wisdom, and acting on what you learn, you’ll develop more trust in your ability to do what’s best for you and handle whatever comes at you. You can begin to strengthen your relationship to your inner wisdom by journaling, meditating, and sitting in silence. This is an ongoing process that requires exploration.

    One of the most effective ways to build self-trust is to take small steps forward. Know that it can (and most likely will) be scary, but once you step out of your comfort zone, you’ll see that much of what you were afraid of was in your imagination. To make this easier, I often recall a time when I trusted myself, despite my self-doubt, and things turned out positively.

    Surrender

    When you have done all you can, let go. Discern what is outside of your control and find the courage to release all expectations of it. You may just find a sense of relief in allowing life to unfold naturally.

    —

    I still have moments when I get anxious and overly worried. In these moments, I think about the influence my mind has over my body. Perhaps it’s not about resisting my mind’s ability to control me, but rather redirecting its incredible power to work in my favor.

    And with that, I can move mountains.

  • Grief Isn’t Something You Live Through, It’s Something You Live With

    Grief Isn’t Something You Live Through, It’s Something You Live With

    “Obstacles do not block the path, they are the path.” ~Zen proverb

    I thought the concept of a “cold sweat” was unreal and paradoxical until the evening of August 27, 2014. That was my first cold sweat. My first of a lot of things.

    My heart jack-hammered in my chest.

    I heard my pulse in my ears.

    I gasped for air on my dorm room floor in New York, while my mom tried to calm me down on the other end of the phone in Los Angeles.

    “It’s just a panic attack, sweetie. Just breathe deep.”

    No, no, no, I thought. Panic couldn’t possibly evoke this kind of physiological response. My arm hurt, my chest hurt. Was it possible to have a heart attack at age nineteen?

    I didn’t sleep for days after that. I was afraid I wouldn’t wake up again.

    Every night, I would set my laptop on my nightstand. A close family friend with insomnia agreed to stay on Skype with me all night long while I slept so that I wouldn’t feel so alone. She stayed up with me three nights in a row.

    I stopped attending classes, social functions, and missed almost the entire first week of my sophomore year of college.

    Finally, on the night of August 31, I decided to take a walk with some friends. Those same feelings as that night in my dorm room came over me. They took me to the emergency room. An EKG, blood pressure test, and Xanax later, the doctor came in.

    “Tell me a little bit about what’s going on with you.”

    “Well, I keep feeling like I can’t breathe, sometimes my heart starts to—”

    “No,” he interrupted. “Tell me what’s going on with you. Not your body.”

    I looked at him perplexed for about ten seconds, and began. I told him that my father died suddenly in a hit-and-run crash in December. I told him I had to come right back to school afterward because my scholarship was riding on my attendance. I told him how heartbroken, lost, and alone I felt living on the opposite side of the country—away from my family—during the worst period of my life.

    He told me what I had been vying to hear for months.

    “You need to go home.”

    Without argument, I nodded, went back to my dorm room, and told my mom to book my flight. I knew I had to go home, but hearing that vocal validation was what I truly needed. Within minutes, months of torment and post-traumatic stress melted into relief.

    Unfortunately, while the doctor told me what I had been longing to hear, he also diagnosed me with generalized anxiety disorder and panic disorder. Even upon returning to LA, starting a new school, a new job, and a new life, waves of panic continued to ravage my mind and body. And they always hit unexpectedly.

    Although I came home to properly cope with my grief, that task was still put by the wayside. Now, I had to deal with my anxiety and panic first. I had to find the right pills, the right dose. No matter what pills or what dose, I felt emotionally hollowed.

    In attempts to keep my anxiety levels down, the pills were making me tired all the time. I didn’t experience any more anxiety or depression, but I didn’t experience happiness or joy either. I had to try something else.

    In the boredom of a frigid December night, three years into my turbulent grief journey, I opened up the app store on my iPhone. Truth be told, I was looking for a crossword game, but instead I stumbled upon a free meditation app.

    I selected their grief meditation, settled into the plush carpet of my bedroom floor, popped my earbuds in, and began. Breathe in, breathe out. The sound of ambient ocean waves that underscored the guided meditation was like the waves of my grief—coming and going, never knowing when the next one would strike, sometimes dramatic and thunderous, sometimes muted and repressed.

    It wasn’t until the meditation ended and I opened my eyes that I realized there were tears in them. This is what my anxiety pills hadn’t been able to achieve. An actual outpouring of emotion. What I needed was to experience my grief, not silence it.

    But, I also needed to experience it in a place where I felt safe—and that place soon became that very spot on my bedroom floor. So vastly different from the spot on my dorm room floor across the country that was tainted with sadness and anxiety.

    For the longest time, I thought meditation was the silencing of your thoughts and emotions. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Soon I realized that meditation was the observation of these thoughts and emotions, without the heartache and turmoil of getting wrapped up in them.

    Every day, I gave myself ten minutes to meditate, to grieve. A year later, I weaned off my anti-anxiety pills, and never looked back. Two years later, and nearly five years since my father’s passing, I continue to meditate daily. Only now, it is as much a way to celebrate my contentment as it is to cope with my grief and panic.

    My grief and my panic disorder will always be a part of who I am, but I no longer see them as afflictions. Rather, they are facets of my overarching journey.

    Meditation took the place of my medication. But, that’s not to say that there is a right or wrong choice between the two. Without the help of my anti-anxiety pills, I would’ve never been able to see clearly enough to know that meditation is an option.

    There is no shame in needing the help of a pill, much like there is no shame in needing the help of a mindfulness practice. A practice that has taught me acceptance is the most critical part of our journey.

    So I began to accept. Accepting that pain, panic, and pills were part of my journey to peace. Accepting that grief is not something you live through, but something you live with.

    Accepting that all of these things were the path all along, not the roadblocks I thought they were.

  • How Observing My Emotions Helps Me Let Go of Anger and Anxiety

    How Observing My Emotions Helps Me Let Go of Anger and Anxiety

    “Even when in the midst of disturbance, the stillness of the mind can offer sanctuary.” ~Stephen Richards

    One night my four-year-old daughter woke up crying, startling both me and my husband from sleep. He rushed into her room and I came in shortly thereafter, and I immediately got annoyed with how he was handling the situation. I’ll admit this now: I can’t even remember what he did, but in that moment I knew I would have done it differently and it made me feel irritable and angry.

    I left the room and went into the bathroom. While I sat there, I remembered something I’d heard to do in order to become a calmer, more mindful person: Observe myself and describe my emotions and what was going on in my body as if I was telling a doctor about medical symptoms.

    I simply noticed what was going on inside me as if I was another person watching myself and ran through what was happening. I described how I felt agitated and how my stomach felt knotty. I described how the anger felt hot and prickly and how it was consuming my chest.

    Then the most amazing thing happened: My anger completely vanished.

    I was astonished. Usually I can talk myself out of negative or overwhelming emotions with some time and patience by coming up with new thoughts or convincing myself to simply let go. But this, this was something different. It happened so quickly and easily.

    I was really struck by this experience, and a week or two later I tried doing something similar while I was meditating before bed one evening. That night I felt stressed out and sad, and I could feel how I was carrying a frown around with me, and a feeling of heaviness.

    During my meditation, I kept pulling myself back to the present moment and noticing how and where I was carrying those feelings. I didn’t judge them or try to change them; I just observed them. Within a few moments a strong feeling overcame me. I can only describe it as a wave of knowing that told me “those feelings are not you.”

    It was so soothing. I felt how I was the observer, and although my sad and anxious feelings were certainly a real part of my human experience, I saw that I didn’t have to become engulfed by them. I didn’t have to let them rule me or my life.

    I’m a person with a lot of emotions. I tend toward anxiety and sadness, though I certainly have some anger, or at least irritation, thrown in there for good measure. Being able to separate myself from these emotions has been so freeing.

    I’m not saying that emotions aren’t valid, or that we shouldn’t have feelings about things that happen in our lives. I do believe, though, we can move forward in the most helpful and joyful way possible if we take the time to observe those feelings and get some distance from them.

    If I’d stayed mad and acted out at my husband that night, over something so inconsequential that I can’t even remember the details of it now, a month or two later, would that have been the best outcome for me? I don’t believe so; middle of the night arguments never end well.

    I think noticing and describing emotions allows for the best outcome. If you’ve been mistreated by someone, by all means, allow yourself that anger and frustration. From there, though, step back. Take a look at what you’re saying to yourself and where that frustration lives.

    Once you’ve done that and given yourself some distance, then make your next move. Making a decision from a place of stillness and reflection can only make your life better.

    This is a practice that, well, takes practice. I have to remind myself to do it, and frankly, sometimes I don’t want to. A stubborn, bratty part of myself yells something along the lines of “I want to stay mad!”

    It’s worth it though, at least to me, and I’m incorporating it into my life more and more. I’m finding myself a calmer and more centered person, and that’s something I’ve wanted for a long time. Here’s everything that’s been working for me and how it can work for you, too.

    Get comfortable with the idea that you’re an observer. The older I get, the more I realize how much of what I do is just a pattern, a repetition of the ways I’ve done things before. That has allowed me to identify less with what my mind is telling me and to give myself permission to simply observe what’s happening instead of taking it all so seriously.

    Avoid judging yourself and your emotions. Just this morning I started getting worried about the sadness my daughter was expressing about going back to preschool after a break for vacation. I started getting frustrated at myself for getting sucked into my feelings and not doing better, but in that moment I realized I needed to let go of criticizing myself and instead just observe. And, as usual, it helped.

    Give yourself the time and space to practice. This is not what we’ve been taught to do. At all. We’ve been taught to try to control our emotions, we’ve been taught to express emotions in healthier ways, we’ve been taught to give in and feel emotions. The idea of observing our emotions? I didn’t hear of that until I was thirty-seven years old.

    Try to see your emotions as separate from the real you. I believe that at our core we’re compassionate and loving beings. The stories our minds tell us—about how we’ve been wronged or how things should be different—are just that: stories.

    Let yourself observe what the mind is telling you. Let yourself observe how those stories are causing you to feel. Take the time to really describe, in vivid detail, what you’re telling yourself and what you’re feeling physically. Are your shoulders up to your ears? Is your chest tight? Are your firsts clenched? What’s your face doing? Do you feel hot? Do you feel like you’re in slow motion? Describe it all.

    When you take the time to do that, you’re taking the time to see that those feelings, those emotions are separate from you. You’re the loving being who is observing them. You’re the one with the power to let them go.

    Just try it. Taking the time to increase my awareness and observe myself has improved my life in just a short time, and I think it can make anyone’s life more peaceful.

  • The Strength It Takes to Pull Yourself Out of a Panic Attack

    The Strength It Takes to Pull Yourself Out of a Panic Attack

  • How Yogic Breathing Helped Me Overcome Chronic Panic Attacks

    How Yogic Breathing Helped Me Overcome Chronic Panic Attacks

    “If you want to conquer the anxiety of life, live in the moment, live in the breath.” ~Amit Ray

    I’ve battled chronic anxiety and PTSD my entire life and am no stranger to that tight pressure grip that dread and panic can have on the body and mind.

    On my worst days, I’d feel my chest and throat tighten as I struggled to breathe.

    Chronic panic attacks would leave me curled up in the fetal position, unable to move or stop panting.

    On my best days, I’d manage to get by, thanks to my numbing out with food and alcohol, self-medication, or mindless TV watching.

    I wasn’t just battling anxiety; I was in denial about the low-grade, high-functioning depression that, like a dark little storm cloud, hovered over me from the time my eyes opened in the morning till I finally fell asleep at night.

    I tried everything I could to shake it, to blow past the inner turmoil that never seemed to stop churning.

    But I couldn’t.

    I couldn’t make it stop, and I couldn’t make it go away.

    At least not long-term.

    Some things I tried provided brief momentary relief or comfort, though eventually, the feelings of dread, fear, defeat, and overwhelm would resurface yet again.

    I felt trapped. Powerless. Out of control. Doubtful I’d ever be able to experience anything other than this miserable existence.

    I come from a long lineage of various family members with a history of mental disorder and addiction, so I guess you can say it’s in my blood.

    As a young child I grew up witnessing my mother struggle with severe depression, bipolar disorder, and substance abuse problems, all of which eventually led her to several meltdowns and even a suicide attempt.

    So naturally, I was an anxious and fearful little girl who often felt very unsafe.

    My young mind learned early on that in order to survive I had to constantly be on guard.

    My nervous system became accustomed to the constant stress-mode of being in “fight-freeze-or-flight.”

    As my way to cope and make sense of it all, I sought out things that would help me feel in control of myself and my life, even if I accomplished this by numbing out, distracting, or shrinking and playing small.

    How I Found Peace and Courage Through Yogic Breathing

    It wasn’t until I embarked on the yogic path that things really changed for me.

    I turned to yoga in search of answers and natural anxiety relief during one of the lowest points in my life.

    I found comfort in this ancient practice, which taught me that I am not my past and I am not where I come from.

    Thanks to my yoga practice I realized that my anxiety didn’t have to define me.

    I learned that I could indeed rise above my fears, even in the midst of a full blown panic attack.

    I could learn to calm my racing mind and hyper-aroused body by learning to control my breath.

    This is one of yoga’s cornerstone teachings and it’s called pranayama or yogic breathing.

    “When the breath wanders the mind is unsteady. But when the breath is calmed, the mind too will be still.” ~Hatha Yoga Pradipika

    It wasn’t easy to employ these techniques in the middle of an attack, but with practice, time, consistency, and dedication, my panic attacks gradually shifted.

    They lessened their hold on me.

    I haven’t had a panic attack in almost three years.

    So how’d I do it?

    Each time I’d feel the onslaught of an attack, it took everything I had in me to channel my inner yogic warrior and brace myself for the internal battle about to take place.

    “I am not my fear; I am not this panic,” I’d remind myself over and over again as I struggled to breath.

    Sometimes I’d believe myself, other times I wouldn’t, but I kept reminding myself…

    “I am not my fear; I am not this panic.”

    Using The Warrior Breath for Victory

    I used various yogic breathing techniques each time I needed to calm my panicky mind and body.

    One proved particularly effective, so it became a go-to.

    It’s a science-backed technique called Ujjayi Breathing, also known as Warrior Breath and Victorious Breath.

    Uijayi Breathing has a host of mental, physical, and emotional benefits. This breathing technique is known to:

    • Increase resilience for coping with stress, anxiety, anger, and depression effectively
    • Regulate emotions
    • Balance the nervous system
    • Decrease stress response
    • Increase rest/ digest/ relaxation/ regeneration response
    • Regulate blood sugar levels
    • Lower cholesterol
    • Improve sleep cycle and quality
    • Improve digestion
    • Boost immunity
    • Improve respiratory function

    When you practice Ujjayi you create a sound like the ocean’s waves or an animal’s hiss by gently constricting the back of the throat.

    It sort of sounds like Darth Vader in Star Wars.

    Various studies have indicated that Ujjayi can be effective in working with PTSD. It’s been used with Vietnam veterans and natural disaster victims.

    When paired with deep abdominal breathing, Ujjayi can help you deactivate your body’s panic response while activating the soothing, regenerating response.

    The wave-like sounds of this breathing exercise can also provide you with some much needed soothing in the middle of the storm.

    Just a few minutes of Ujjayi breathing can offer you a welcomed sense of control as well as a wave of calm groundedness.

    5 Simple Steps to Take During Your Next Panic Attack

     1. Find solitude. 

    This is probably instinctive during a panic attack, it was for me at least. It’s important to set yourself up to win during this critical time window, so step away from the crowd and go somewhere quiet and where you feel safe. Remind yourself: “I am not my fear; I am not this panic.”

    2. Control your breath.

    In the throes of a panic attack, your body and mind can feel completely out of control. Your breath tends to be short, shallow, and frantic, so it’s important and essential to do what’s in your power to regain control by shifting your breathing. Start to slow your breath down intentionally.

    Here’s how to practice Ujjayi:

    – Place the tip of your tongue on the center of the roof of your mouth, keep it there.

    – Breathe only through your nose.

    – Take a full exhale with the mouth closed.

    – Start breathing like the ocean—constrict the back of your throat as you inhale slowly for six counts and exhale slowly for six counts.

    – As you’re inhaling, engage the lower belly by expanding it outwardly.

    – As you’re exhaling, contract the lower belly by bringing it inwardly toward your spine.

    – Keep repeating this breathing pattern of inhaling for six and exhaling for six until you feel a shift in your body and you’re no longer struggling to keep the pace (preferably a minimum of three minutes).

    3. Breathe with awareness.

    Once you’ve gotten control of your breathing rate with Ujjayi, start to bring awareness to your breathing. Bring your entire awareness to your breath as the air flows into your nostrils and out of your nostrils.

    Follow your breath with total attention. Observe your breathing. Is it long? Let it be long. Is it short? Let it be short. If the mind wanders, bring it back to your breath. Follow the breath and watch it with full presence. This is an excellent mental training that will get easier and easier the more your practice.

    4. Name it.

    Once you’ve connected to your breath and have brought awareness to it you’re ready to notice what is coming up for you and name it.

    A recent study out of UCLA found that the simple act of mindfully naming or labeling our emotions has the power to lessen their intensity. The study looked at brain scans of subjects as they named emotions and found that the part of their brain associated with fear and reactive emotional responses actually became less active. So name what you’re feeling and don’t hesitate… Name “fear,” “panic,” “dread,” “anger,” “scared,” “anxious,” “worried,” “resentful,” and so on.

    5. Keep breathing.

    With each inhale and exhale keep making the ocean’s sound and find your flow with it. Imagine the waves ebbing and flowing around you as you breathe the waves through you. Feel the waves within you. The more you flow with the waves, the more you’ll dissolve panic and activate inner calm.

  • Anxiety Is Not My Enemy: How I’ve Learned to Accept It And Cope

    Anxiety Is Not My Enemy: How I’ve Learned to Accept It And Cope

    “You are strong for getting out of bed in the morning when it feels like hell. You are brave for doing things even though they scare you or make you anxious. And you are amazing for trying and holding on no matter how hard life gets.” ~Unknown

    I couldn’t take it anymore. I no longer wanted to answer to the heart beating on my ribcage, my sweat on my palms, or the breath that got caught in the upper part of my lungs. I wanted the swirling thoughts in my brain to settle. I imagined them falling like leaves finding their place on the ground after a gust of wind forces them into a cyclone.

    Driving my daughter to daycare, I couldn’t calm myself. We had just moved to a new town in what was our last relocation.

    Over the past thirteen years, my husband and I had moved across the country and lived in several cities—Baltimore, Milwaukee, San Diego, Winston-Salem, NC, Oxford—and I was tired. Tired of the stress of packing and unpacking our things. Tired of finding new doctors. Tired of making new friends. Tired of setting up daycare for my toddler. Tired of finding her new therapy providers to address her gross motor delays. Tired of finding new babysitters. Tired of rebuilding our home.

    If tired had been all I had felt, I may have coped better. But, as always, anxiety was there. Like a childhood friend—or foe, or frenemy—it never leaves my side. As long as I have had memories, anxiety tagged itself in.

    So, when driving my daughter to her first day at a new daycare, my thoughts were sent into a tailspin.

    It wasn’t until this last move, during that drive down yet another College Avenue in yet another new city, that I realized my anxiety was something I needed to deal with.

    I asked myself: What if my daughter sees this? Will she learn to live in fear? Will she worry about big things and small things, just as I do? Will she learn to stress over things she cannot change or that have yet to happen? Will she see my tears on our way to her new daycare and wonder if she, too, should be crying?

    My daughter is fun-loving, silly, humorous, and independent. Life never gets her down, even though she was born eight weeks early, spent five weeks in the NICU, and continues to struggle with muscle weakness.

    She cannot run with her friends on the playground. Yet she has friends. Lots of them. All of the children in her classroom call out “Evelyn!” when she arrives in the morning. Teachers from the other side of the building know her. It may be because she uses a walker, or because she has special braces on her feet. More likely, it’s because of her outgoing personality and willingness to try anything.

    She has an empathy that cannot be taught. She pats babies’ backs when they cry. She hugs me when I look sad. At snack time, she shares her crackers. She always wants to play and is sure to include others. All this and she is only three.

    She never worries what others will think of her slow walking. She just walks. She never judges others for being different. She just plays. She never worries about hiding her disability. She just sits down with the group of children playing with the Legos.

    During that drive, with the tears streaming down my cheeks, I knew this excessive angst was something I should not pass on to her. She deserved better.

    My daughter needed a mother who worried less and enjoyed more. A mother who could show her that happiness is found from within. I wanted her to learn that she is worthy of a peaceful life.

    At this point, my suffering had spanned thirty-six years. As a child, when I had started a new grade in school, I cried the night before. When we visited relatives’ homes, they would call me “bashful” or “shy” or some equivalent when really I was none of those things. I wanted to engage more, but fear of saying the wrong thing held me back.

    When I started college, I was certain I would fail. My dream of studying abroad was almost squashed by fear of living in a new country.

    I was afraid of learning to drive, going to school dances, and being invited (or not) to birthday parties. Even attending Girl Scout meetings in grade school meant I had to interact with others whom I feared didn’t like me. I never knew if that was really how others felt. My anxiety didn’t care about truth.

    Anxiety whispers to me: You’re not good enough. You’re not smart enough. You’ll fail at that. No one will like you. You can’t do that.

    And then the questions start: What if you get lost? What if you have to eat in front of strangers? What if food gets stuck in your teeth? What if your car breaks down? What if….

    So, by the time we reached my daughter’s daycare, when the tears wouldn’t stop, I had had enough. I vowed to get help.

    That night I found a therapist who has taught me the importance of my anxiety.

    “The anxiety won’t completely go away,” my therapist told me. Even though I had hoped she had the secret to an anxiety-free life, I knew she was right. Anxiety is natural. It is useful. Just not at my level.

    I explored it, feeling its crevices and textures. It’s a part of my personality. It makes me me. Anxiety was not the problem. My inability to cope was. Allowing it to take over my thoughts until I became frozen was.

    Now, I’m learning to accept myself. I check in with myself. I allow myself to feel what is there, yet I can step aside enough to analyze what is really happening.

    Through our therapy sessions, I found compassion for my anxiety. It’s there to tell me something. It often points out the paths in life that are most worthwhile. My instinct to fight back, to push myself through the angst, was right. Each time I face my anxiety, I come out the other side victorious. Yet the energy drained from me each time leaves me fatigued. As I reach each threshold between relenting to anxiety or jumping into something something fearful, exhaustion fills my body. I feel as if I could go to sleep and never wake up.

    “I don’t want to have to force myself to do things every time I get anxious,” I told my therapist.

    She responded, “What if you looked at it as not forcing yourself but rather you made a choice to do something despite your fear?”

    Being proud of myself for my achievements despite my anxiety never occured to me. My anxiety didn’t have to be my enemy. It wasn’t the harrowing fight between knight and fire-breathing dragon that I thought it was. My anxiety tested me, pushed me, and ultimately made me who I am. Accepting it would not be conceding, but rather it meant I could live with more sanity.

    It’s not easy to live with anxiety, but with the aid of a few goals, my days now start with more purpose and end with more peace.

    Through my self-exploration, I found a mantra that recenters my focus from one of fear to one stillness; Feed my mind, body, soul. I found a way to leave my ego on the side—that which feeds my negative thoughts about myself—and relax into the present moment. Days on which I manage to include all three elements of focus, I feel the most calm.

    It takes work to achieve them all. One usually fights to take on more weight than the others. But when I insist on balance, I can settle my rattled brain for at least a little while. I do this work daily. The triangle image hangs in my thoughts as I try and balance each side into a perfect equilateral shape. When achieved, I go to bed feeling like my soul has evened out.

    As my therapist had suggested, reframing my self-language focuses on the mind. Just as my daughter can find compassion for the people around her, I am learning to find compassion for myself. I’m not broken. I have emotions and needs and fears. I can allow those to exist. I honor them for what they are while also finding pride for choosing the tough road time and again.

    Giving my mind a safe place to find quietness has also enhanced the this portion of my triangle. But when the battle is with anxiety, that is a difficult feat. Meditation is tougher than I thought. ‘Doing nothing’ is actually doing quite a bit. Yet, when I am able to put aside the noisy chatter in my head, the peace is exhilarating. At times, when the anxious voice is shut out—along with all of the upcoming things I should be worrying about—I feel as if I am floating off my couch cushion.

    Yoga, kickboxing, Zumba—all help drain the anxiety from my body. As the sweat glistens on my skin, the anxiety has no place to be. My heartbeat increases, my blood flows freely, and my focus is on finishing the workout. My body feels cared for.

    I feed my body foods it needs to thrive. I’ve cut back on coffee and leaned more on tea. Fruits and vegetables find their way into every meal and snack. Sugar is limited, although to ban it altogether would go against what is good for my soul.

    My soul begs for me to feed my own inner energy. I engage in activities I enjoy, even when I don’t think there are enough hours in the day. I nurture myself.

    Through writing, I find great solace. It’s meditative and brings me a joy I cannot find elsewhere. Sentences and stories flow through my head, often taking the place of the anxious ones. Just like anxiety, I was born this way. Since childhood, I’ve liked storytelling. The more time I schedule for writing, the less time anxiety can claim.

    I cook. Providing nutritious meals for my family is a privilege. When engaged in new recipes, my focus shifts to one of worry about the future to one of creating something to enjoy.

    I even find time to watch my favorite television shows. When my daughter is at school, and my husband is in the office working, I take my lunch to the couch and turn on Netflix. I often find the comedies. When something can make me laugh when I’m alone, I know it’s the distraction from the tough parts of life that I need.

    I am a work in progress. Some days, anxiety sneaks up on me. Panic can be overwhelming. Instead of criticizing myself for being weak, I allow the feelings to come. I try to slow down. I accept that in that moment, I feel overwhelmed. It will pass.

    Now, when I drive my daughter to daycare, I don’t cry. I sing. I no longer worry about what the driver next to me will think when he sees my mouth moving and hands tapping.

    My daughter and I say “hi” to the busses on the road. We pretend her stuffed Elmo is driving, and we laugh at her silly jokes. She tells me to go “this way” and points the wrong direction to which I respond, “no, this way.” That banter always makes her giggle. We talk about which friends will be at school and what she’ll play outside.

    Through it all, she smiles. And now, so do I.

  • How Practicing Patience Can Relieve Stress and Anxiety

    How Practicing Patience Can Relieve Stress and Anxiety

    “Patience is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting.” ~Joyce Meyer

    I used to say, “Patience is a virtue I don’t have.” So, of course, that is how I lived my life. Hurried, exasperated, impatient, and stressed out.

    Not only was I a creating a world where I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off—because everything had to be done now, and anything that got in the way of that had to be removed immediately—but I was creating this world for those around me.

    My children often bore the brunt of my impatience. If they didn’t get dressed fast enough, or show up at the dinner table as soon as I called them, or get into the car when it was time to go, they met my wrath. And, I had a wicked tongue.

    I was constantly haranguing them to stop “being lazy,” “quit dawdling,” etc. Somehow, their lack of speed equated into being lazy or “less than.” Where did I pick up such a mentality?

    Do you find yourself constantly speeding to work, rushing through the grocery store, and generally snapping at people who can’t keep up? How does this make you feel inside?

    For me, it made me feel wound up like a tight ball. I felt a constant sense of anxiety. And, it didn’t make me feel good about myself—certainly my best self was not shining. Mostly, it made me feel chronically stressed out.

    Researchers have recently been able to prove through MRI scans of peoples’ brains under stress that stress causes certain areas of the brain to shut off. This means there is less activity in the brain—which leads to a depressed brain. This also leads to an angry brain because there is less neurological activity happening to process things that are going on in your day-to-day life. It’s like a traffic jam in your brain happens because you don’t have enough snowplows to clear the road.

    This frustration can lead to a trigger-happy mouth—one that blurts out frustrations and snaps angrily at people. Because, the brain is thinking so hard, it hurts!

    This used to be my life: constant impatience and its ensuing anxiety > chronically stressed brain > chronic depression > inner rage and anger.

    The thing with not having any patience is it clouds your entire life. You are so busy rushing from one thing to the next, expecting immediate gratification, that you are often not only disappointed but also emotionally and physically depleted.

    What happens when you yell at your children to hurry up? You’re met with resistance, that’s what happens. They yell back—more stress. Or, they go even slower!

    Does this resolve the issue in the end? No. It only makes matters worse. And, what was the issue in the end? I believe the issue was you had an attitude problem.

    The attitude is this: I have so much to do I can’t possibly get everything done in the day. So, I must rush about doing everything so I can make good progress on my to-do list. If someone or something impedes my progress on my to-do list, I get angry because I can’t possibly get everything done.

    Sounds like a vicious cycle, doesn’t it? The thing with being impatient is it is intimately tied to the judgmental and critical sides of ourselves. This is because whatever is happening in the moment is deemed not good enough in some way shape or form.

    In this case, it’s not happening fast enough. The moment and what’s happening in it has been judged! And it has been criticized.

    Once this occurs, suddenly you find yourself trying to control the situation and making it happen faster. When this doesn’t work—for example, if the person in front of you is driving really slowly—you get angry, which causes your cortisol stress levels to rise. And, we all know stress isn’t good for us.

    So, how do you stop this vicious cycle and where do you find patience? I was at a loss, myself. I didn’t even realize I had a patience problem, because I was telling myself the story that I didn’t have any patience to begin with. From this point of view, why bother since I didn’t have any?

    Well, we believe what we tell ourselves, and if I keep saying I don’t have any patience, well then I won’t.

    The first thing I needed to do was look at the story I was telling myself and change it. I began by saying to myself, “Patience is a virtue I practice daily.” It was a way to shift my mindset. Maybe I couldn’t jump straight to “I am the world’s most patient person” immediately. So, I found a middle group that shifted my old thinking into a different kind of habit.

    I had to write this down. And, whenever I found myself a) telling myself I am not patient or b) in a situation where I was feeling impatient and starting to get frustrated, I’d repeat the mantra “Patience is a virtue I practice daily.” Thus, I could accept the situation as a learning experience for practicing the virtue of patience.

    The other thing about patience is it allows you to slooooow down and actually experience the world. I used to be so concerned about getting to the next wherever I was going—finish a project at work, order off the menu, find a parking spot—that I never actually lived.

    I mean, I certainly wasn’t paying attention to where I was in the moment, or even being in the moment. I was too busy focusing on something else. It’s like I was not living at all. I was simply doing.

    There is a huge difference between doing and living. Many of us wind up confusing the two. This is especially true in western cultures, where output of an action, product, or thing is given so much value. It seems it is given much more value than say, actually sitting there in the parking lot waiting for the person to pull out and enjoying the moment—like noticing the birds chirping in the trees, or the sun in the sky.

    Sometimes we need to realize we have a patience problem and challenge the assumptions that got us there in the first place. Otherwise, we live a lesser life. We live a life in constant stress, we act a diminished version of ourselves, and most importantly, we don’t actually live and enjoy our lives.

    Here’s an exercise for you to try:

    What is the story you tell yourself about how patient you are? If you realize you say to yourself you’re the most patient person in the world, that’s wonderful! If you realize you often tell yourself you’re not patient at all, then consider a different statement you could be telling yourself instead.

    One of the other stories I used to tell myself that was absolutely sabotaging was “I don’t have time for this.” I would think I had to hurry to make the yellow light, because I don’t have time to wait at the red light. So, I’d rush ahead.

    I used to say “I don’t have time for this” when a slow person was entering a store, so I’d rudely rush right past them instead of even considering if there was a way I could help them.

    Or, I’d say I don’t have time to make small talk with my colleagues in a meeting and would just focus on the work at hand. Needless to say, this didn’t help me develop strong bonds with people if I didn’t have time to talk with them and learn something about their day or what’s going on in their life.

    I realized after a while that I had a patience problem. The way I realized this was because I was so stressed and anxious all the time. And, I was constantly angry. This is not an enjoyable way to live your life.

    So, one day I did a thought experience on that “I don’t have time for this” story I was always telling myself. When I was sitting at a light saying I don’t have time for this, I replied back to myself “Yes, you do have time for this.” And so it went all day. Every day.

    I challenged that story I was telling myself and I rebutted it. You know what happened? One day I found out all that time I was trying to save in a day by rushing around everywhere, maybe added up to ten whole minutes at the of the day.

    Was all that angst to get it done so quickly or all that pressure I put on other people worth a whole extra ten minutes? Who even notices an extra ten minutes in the day? Nobody. That’s who. So, what exactly was all this getting me for being so impatient and driving so fast and furious? Nothing. Well, actually it was getting me miserable, that’s what.

    Now, when I’m feeling a little impatient I realize I actually do have time for it. And, this makes me calm and relaxed instead.

    It’s okay if I didn’t make the light and have to wait at it for a minute. I have time for this. It’s okay if my kids arrive at the dinner table when they get there. I have time for this. It’s okay if I spend some time to connect with my co-workers before we begin the meeting. I have time for this. In fact, I have an embarrassment of riches of time! And so do you.

    The last thing I’ll talk about here is a little exercise that I like to do to bring myself off the ledge whenever I am having “a moment.” It’s called count backward from five.

    I know most people have heard of just count to ten if you’re upset about something and that will help. I never did find that very helpful. It was like I was just counting up on my frustration! Then, one day I learned the count backward from five technique. Just start counting: five – four – three – two – one.

    It has a strange calming effect. It is as if whatever it is that is bothering you is dissipating as you count backward. Usually, when I start counting backward from five I notice even by the time I get to three that something has lifted. I feel a shift in my agitation. By the time I get to one, I’m kind of over it. Try it. You may find it really helps you get through a moment.

    In the end, learning how to change your story and your habits when it comes to patience will help you heal from unnecessary anxiety and stress in your life. Will life still be stressful? Sure. But, at least you aren’t inflicting more of it on yourself with a patience problem.

    Surprisingly, when I learned to finally create healthy habits around patience, I began to get a lot better at compassion too. That’s because compassion requires patience.

    That crying child that you wish would stop? Having patience with that and slooowing down enough, makes you pause just enough to consider this child is in pain or frightened. You’ll realize you were once a child and when you felt pain or were frightened, you wished for comfort.

    Maybe instead of scowling at the child wishing they would shut up, you smile at them instead and say, “It will be okay.” In a way, you are also saying this to your inner child in some small fashion. It will be okay and you are okay.

  • How to Release Emotions Stuck in Your Body and Let Go of the Pain

    How to Release Emotions Stuck in Your Body and Let Go of the Pain

    “The human mind is a relational and embodied process that regulates the flow of energy and information.” ~Daniel J. Siegel

    We are emotional creatures, and we were born to express emotions freely and openly. Somewhere along the way, however, many of us learned to repress emotions, especially those deemed “negative,” in order to fit in, earn love, and be accepted. This was my experience.

    I grew up in a home where the motto was “Children are to be seen, not heard.” There was little emotional expression allowed, let alone accepted. No one was there to validate or help us process emotions in a healthy way. Anger was met with anger, fear went unacknowledged, and there was plenty of shame to go around.

    My parents didn’t model how to deal with difficult emotions, as they struggled with that themselves. When those emotions showed up, I often felt overwhelmed and inadequate, ashamed of my failure to be a “good girl.”

    I learned to bury my pain deep inside, feeling invisible, ashamed, angry, alone, and unable to ask for what I needed. Trying to hide the pain—from others and myself—I built walls, put on masks, and soldiered on. For better or worse.

    My pain was buried so deep, I didn’t realize it was there until I had my own children. Motherhood opened up old wounds, the house of cards fell apart, and I began to unravel.

    In my thirties, faced with growing angst and creeping depression—and motivated to be the best parent I could be to my children—I began to deal with repressed memories and old emotional residue that has left me suffering from C-PTSD, chronic back pain, sciatica, headaches, and anxiety.

    As a child, I hid from the emotional pain by delving into the world of books, music, and academics. As an adult, I realized I was strong enough to face it. I wasn’t a little child anymore; I didn’t have to hide. Now I was more mature and had the resources I needed to finally face the pain that used to overwhelm my young brain—and begin to heal it.

    The truth is, we all hide our emotions occasionally. We pretend, avoid, and deny uncomfortable emotions in an effort of self-preservation, as a defense mechanism.

    We do this most often with difficult emotions like shame, fear, or anger. When we experience events that emotionally overwhelm us and we’re unable to process what is happening, accept our emotions, and express them through our body and mind, we hide them deep inside us where others can’t see them. And we end up hiding them from ourselves too. Yet, they’re still there.

    The unresolved emotions get trapped in our body, where they build and fester, draining our energy, leading to burnout, emotional imbalance, and eventually disease. When we chronically repress emotions, we create toxicity in our body, mind, and heart.

    This unprocessed emotional energy is stored in our organs, muscles, and tissues. It leads to inflammation and chronic health problems, and it undermines our overall well-being.

    3 Steps to Processing Emotional Energy Stuck in Your Body

    The opposite of repression is expression. In order to process our emotional distress and move it through and out of our body so it doesn’t get stuck there, we need to learn to express our emotions in a healthy way, in the body and mind. But first, we need to learn to recognize and accept our feelings as they come and go.

    Step 1: Recognize (self-awareness)

    The challenge is to recognize the emotion and feel it in your body. This is where mindfulness comes in. The goal is to notice what is happening within our body, accept it, and feel it fully, without judgment.

    If you’ve ever come across Tara Brach’s teachings on radical acceptance, the practice of R.A.I.N. should sound familiar. R.A.I.N. stands for recognize, allow, investigate, and nourish (with self-compassion), and it “directly de-conditions the habitual ways in which you resist your moment-to-moment experience,” according to Brach.

    Buddhist teachings tell us that human suffering is caused by aversion and resistance to what is happening. Acceptance is liberating, and the practice of R.A.I.N. teaches us to accept our moment-to-moment experience instead of running from it. It teaches us to face any difficulty head-on, with self-compassion and the understanding that it will eventually pass.

    We have to feel it to heal it—we have to fully experience the emotion in order to process and integrate it into our experience.

    But we must feel it in the body; this is the critical point. As Brach writes, “If the process of including difficult emotions in awareness stops at the level of cognitive understanding without a fully embodied experience, the genuine acceptance, insight, and inner freedom that are the essence of true healing will not be complete.”

    Practice mindfulness to get better at recognizing your feelings and observing the bodily sensations connected to those feelings as they come and go throughout the day. Offer yourself self-compassion as you go through more difficult emotions.

    PRACTICE:

    Sit still for a few minutes with your eyes closed. Listen to your body and become curious.

    What does your body feel like right now? Is there any pressure or tingling? Where? Do you feel heavy, hot, contracted, warm, or cold? What is the texture, weight, and shape of the sensations you notice in your body? What emotions are those sensations connected to? Can you breathe into the parts that call your attention? What do those parts of your body want to tell you? What do they want?

    Step 2: Respond (self-expression)

    Emotions need to be expressed to be processed. The goal is to move the energy of emotion through and out the body so we can let it go.

    This self-expression must be authentic and embodied. Remember, true healing occurs when body and mind integrate, so express the emotion on the bodily level first and foremost.

    Still sitting, ask yourself: What does this emotion you just connected with need from you? What feels right in this moment? What do you need?

    Maybe you feel the need to cry, scream into a pillow, go for a swim, walk or run, dance it out, hit a punching bag, do some gardening, tapping, yoga or TRE, paint your feelings out, or simply breathe deeply while facing the sun—whatever feels cathartic in that moment, do it.

    You will free the poisonous emotion that you carried within yourself and free yourself from its shackles.

    Follow this step with one of the best forms of emotional healing—journaling. Writing can be a very therapeutic experience of self-discovery, reconnecting with our true self, and processing our deepest feelings and emotions.

    When we write, we give our internal world a voice. We process and make sense of what is happening within us and around us. And we gain perspective; by writing about our fears and hurts, we can look at them from a distance, detach from their grip, and eventually let them go. That release can be truly healing.

    Practice journaling every day to get better at expressing and processing your feelings. Don’t censor or judge yourself; let it all out, completely unfiltered. Over time, your journal will become a safe space for you to free yourself, get unstuck, and move forward.

    We often don’t have the time and space to process emotions in the moment, so make sure you allow yourself the space to feel the emotions you’ve had through the day and journal about it at the end of each day.

    WRITING PROMPT

    What is happening in your life right now that you wish you could change? What is the biggest source of frustration? As you write, notice the sensations in your body. Tune into the parts that are numb, in pain, or frozen. What are they trying to tell you? What needs healing, attention, or change?

    Step 3: Reset (self-care)

    If we’ve habitually neglected our bodies and ignored our emotions, we have to re-dedicate ourselves to body-mind self-care and indulge in healing habits that will bring in the feeling of well-being.

    The goal is to realign back with your authentic self, reset back to a relaxed and open state, and come back into wellness and balance.

    Take time to slow down and be alone, get out into nature, make art, listen to music while you cook your favorite dinner, meditate to cleanse your mind and relax your body, or take a bubble bath or a nap to restore. Take good care of yourself to awaken to life’s joy and simple pleasures that will nourish your body, mind, and soul.

    My Own Healing Journey

    When I decided to take charge of my own healing, I had no idea where to start. A lifelong bookworm, I quickly discovered writing to be therapeutic. It became my refuge, a place where I could connect with my inner world in an authentic way. Writing became my most trusted way of processing emotions I didn’t even know I harbored inside since childhood. I discovered shame, anger, fear, grief, and eventually, self-compassion.

    With mindfulness, I learned to allow my pain to surface, if only for a brief time, then surround it with tender love and care. My pain was a part of me, and I was done running from it; it was time I faced it.

    I learned to sense into my body, little by little, as the anxiety of reconnecting with my physical sensations was very powerful. But I realized the only way out was through—through the body—so in order to move the stuck emotions that had a tight grip over me for decades, I had to allow and accept them; I had to feel the anger, the shame, the grief.

    Slowly, I learned to give my inner child the support she never received. I listened to and validated her pain—and helped her let go of it. I learned to love and accept her. And I finally learned to love and accept myself.

    Healing is a taxing process. Remember to give yourself all the care and compassion you would give to a friend doing this hard work. Offer yourself understanding, love, and care. This is hard work, and you are doing the best you can with what you’ve got.

    Trapped emotions get in our way. They sabotage our efforts to create the life we want and make us miserable along the way. Freeing this emotional energy stuck in our bodies can shift our lives in a positive way. It’s healing and liberating. And you are worth it!

  • Freeing Your Truest Self When You’re Anxious to Please

    Freeing Your Truest Self When You’re Anxious to Please

    “Stress, depression, and anxiety are caused when we are living to please others.” ~Paulo Coehlo

    I came from a broken and very poor family. My father left the house during my teenage years, and it was just my mother, little brother, and I remaining.

    Like most single parents going through the hardships of singlehandedly caring for two children, my mother was often anxious about my well-being. And she overcompensated for her anxiety by being overbearing.

    I unfortunately inherited this anxiety.

    For the longest time, it was a daily battle for me.

    You know the feeling.

    Your muscles tense up, you feel an overwhelming sense of fear, and your heart begins to race.

    It’s the uncomfortable worries that surface as you play out worst-case scenarios in your head.

    Though we can feel anxiety about debt, work pressures, or any number of challenges, for me, it was mostly triggered by the fear of not being good enough and disappointing other people.

    My struggle with anxiety was one of the most crippling experiences, and as a result, I never grew.

    So, is it really possible to overcome anxiety?

    I realized the answer is yes, but first I needed to understand where my anxiety was coming from.

    Anxiety is Your Brain Trying to Protect You

    There’s a small, almond-sized part of your brain known as the amygdala whose main job is to look out for your survival. For example, if a mountain lion were chasing you, your amygdala would trigger fear so that it would activate your body to run for your life or grab a weapon to fight.

    Your amygdala doesn’t only watch out for your physical survival. You feel the same kind of fear when you are nervous about giving a public speech or going on a first date.

    When you experience anxiety in these situations, it’s your brain’s way of trying to help you survive emotionally.

    Unfortunately, your amygdala is not the greatest at accurately gauging how dangerous a situation might be. It often blows things way out of proportion.

    I remember what it felt like when I was a kid and wouldn’t see my mother the whole day because she was always working late. I’d wait for her to talk about something I was excited about only to have her turn the conversation toward things about myself that I should be improving.

    Even though this was her way of trying to make sure I survive in the world, because we were barely getting by, the constant requests to do things better made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.

    It felt like no matter what I did, I could never fully please her. If I accomplished something she requested of me, I’d get a quick “thank you,” then she’d move on to talk about what else I should do.

    I found it most hurtful when she would talk about how great someone else was. She’d update me about some amazing thing that one of her client’s children had accomplished and suggest that I should try to follow in that person’s footsteps.

    All that did was make me think that something was wrong with me.

    I ended up with low self-esteem, and because I thought I was worthless, nothing was scarier than the thought of making mistakes and failing, because that would confirm that I was not good enough.

    This was why I never took too many risks and searched only for options that seemed to have a guarantee for success.

    My anxiety made me develop a behavior of perfectionism, and it was ruining my life. The more I let it make my decisions for me, or lack of decisions for that matter, the further I felt from who I wanted to become.

    Ironically, becoming a perfectionist was my brain’s solution to helping me feel good enough.

    “Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect, and act perfect, we can minimize or avoid the pain of blame, judgement, and shame. It’s a shield.” ~Brené Brown

    This toxic behavior put me in an endless cycle of working hard to achieve all sorts of cool things so that one day, I might feel good about myself. In reality, every accomplishment felt anti-climactic. I was always dissatisfied and constantly looking for the next big accomplishment to chase.

    No matter how much I succeeded, it was never enough for me, just like I never felt like I was enough for other people.

    It wasn’t until I met someone who could see the real me that I finally figured out how to overcome my anxiety.

    The Power of a Safe Space

    When I was a teenager, a man named Anthony saved my life. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve gone down a much more self-destructive path.

    He never questioned the mistakes I’d made unless I wanted to talk about them. And when I didn’t want to talk about them, he’d openly share his own horrible mistakes.

    I never once felt judged by him, nor did I feel like he had a set of expectations for me.

    Anthony helped me feel safe.

    I realized for the first time that for most of my life, I didn’t feel safe to be who I was.

    I was almost always in survival mode, shielding myself emotionally. All my behavior was in reaction to the anxiety of not feeling good enough for other people.

    Being in a safe space finally helped me put my guard down and look at myself objectively. It was in these moments that I became deeply aware that being a perfectionist wasn’t the answer to my anxiety, and that I was heading down a path toward depression.

    I didn’t come to this realization sooner because the pre-frontal cortex, the thinking part of the brain, is turned off when the brain’s in survival mode. This pre-frontal cortex is what’s capable of rational behavior, critical thinking, and emotional regulation.

    The only way to calm down the survival mode of your brain is to place yourself in environments where you feel safe.

    The thinking part of your brain will help you understand where your anxiety comes from and figure out an effective way to handle it.

    It was in this safe space that I finally realized that I had the power and responsibility to stay true to myself.

    How I Overcame My Anxiety

    Deep down, I hated myself for constantly giving in to other people’s expectations of me and for letting their standards determine my self-worth.

    But the reality is that I let this happen.

    And here’s the even harsher truth.

    I let it happen because it’s much easier to live a life that someone else wants you to live.

    The scariest part is that once you take ownership of the one life you have, you have no one to blame if things go wrong. At least following someone else’s path gave me the right to blame him or her.

    My brain would rather me let others’ standards dictate my life and sacrifice my mental health than do anything that might make me experience the emotional pain of looking like a failure and falling short of someone’s standards.

    Now that I knew all my anxiety was coming from my brain being in survival mode, I needed to figure out a way to regularly calm it down.

    This was when I discovered meditation. 

    I learned that brain scans in studies have revealed that meditation calms the amygdala and activates the thinking part of your brain.

    I started using the free version of an app called Headspace, and I learned how effective it can be to simply be present and enter a state of awareness.

    For most of my life, I’d been tossed left and right by my circumstances and was a slave to my emotional reactions. Meditation helped me become more aware of why I was behaving the way I did, especially in these reactive moments.

    I finally saw that almost all my anxiety led to irrational thoughts and behaviors.

    For example, I remember when I decided to start my business, it was hard to build my audience. Nobody was reading any of my articles, and I wasn’t getting any traffic on my website.

    I’ve given up on other ventures plenty of times before, and I was ready to give up on this one too. I took it personally and started telling myself the familiar narrative that I didn’t have what it takes. I just wasn’t good enough. Then I recognized that I was reacting to my anxiety as I’d always done, and I could choose a different way.

    I was able to be aware and think to myself, “I’m feeling anxious right now because this moment feels similar to a couple of painful experiences I had in the past.”

    The moment I became aware of this I gave myself the power to make a choice rather than to habitually react.

    So I told myself, “The old you would put yourself down and give up, but the new you can try to assess the situation objectively and see what is really setting you back.”

    After doing this, I was finally able to grasp that I didn’t have business challenges because of my character, but most likely because of the strategies and tactics I was using to market myself. Once I used different strategies, I got different results.

    Your Best Life Starting Now

    In order to live our best life, we have to calm our anxiety about disappointing other people and not being good enough and find the courage to be true to ourselves.

    It is one of the hardest decisions you will ever make, but it will also be one of the best.

    The first step to changing my life for the better was having awareness. The next key step was focus.

    What you focus on is usually what you will gravitate toward.

    The key to living your best life is not to run away from who you were, but to run toward who you want to become.

    As I meditated, my anxiety calmed down and I started to have such a clear idea of the person I wanted to be.

    I no longer wanted to be the anxious person who thought he was worthless. I wanted to become a great husband, father, and leader. Rather than worrying about not being able to meet these expectations, I started to engage the thinking part of my brain to figure out what needed to be done.

    I didn’t have all the answers, but I knew I could only make this life I wanted a reality if I started making changes and learned as I went.

    I wanted to learn what it took to become a better husband, so I started going to marriage counseling.

    I wanted to become a better parent, so I researched how children are wired and how to best communicate with them.

    I wanted to be a better leader, so I invested in credible leadership and coaching courses.

    And I did these things not because I wanted to prove something to myself, but more because it mattered to me deeply and I knew it was a part of who I truly was.

    I’ve spent too much time running away from opportunities for growth because I was afraid I might not be good enough. The problem, though, was that I was running away without knowing where I wanted to go. I ended up in destinations where I felt more lost than ever, and my anxiety kept catching up to me in the end.

    Now, whenever I experience anxiety, I tell myself, “This is anxiety.” I thank my brain for looking out for me and then I ask myself, “What do I need to focus on in this moment, and how can I get it?”

    Then, surprisingly, the anxiety calms down and the thinking part of my brain activates to try and figure out the best way to go about things.

    This is what changed everything for me.

    And I know it can for you too.

    While people might have expectations for you, the world desperately needs the power that comes from you living your most authentic life.

    If you are battling anxiety about not being good enough or pleasing other people, take a moment to slow down and acknowledge what you are experiencing. Then, identify what you need to feel safe so you can turn on the thinking part of your brain and start uncovering the answers you most need. That might mean meditating, talking to a close friend, or even just getting out in nature for a walk.

    It’s time to take a deep breath, be compassionate with yourself, and decide who it is you want to be.

    Stay aware and focused and you’ll be there sooner than you think.

  • How to Be Less Anxious About Things You Can’t Change

    How to Be Less Anxious About Things You Can’t Change

    “One of the happiest moments is when you find the courage to let go of what you can’t change.” ~Unknown

    Over the last few years, I’ve had to deal with a frustrating problem.

    It’s something that’s not uncommon, but it can be debilitating, and it has affected me every day. Some days have been incredibly tough, and they’ve tested my tolerance and my patience.

    The problem is chronic back pain.

    Every day I get up, knowing that throughout the day I’m going to have a discomfort that could oscillate between a mild annoyance and an intense burning. At some point, it’s going to distract me. Either while I work, while I eat, while I meditate, while I exercise, and sometimes while I sleep.

    You’d think by now I would’ve gotten used to it, that it would’ve become the unwelcomed friend that I’d learned to live with. Unfortunately, that’s only the case sometimes.

    But I am (slowly but surely) learning firsthand the value of something incredibly profound that the meditation teacher Shinzen Young once said:

    “Suffering = Pain x Resistance.”

    When it comes to the suffering we experience when dealing with physical pain, it’s not always easy to know exactly what is pain and what is resistance to that pain.

    In my own situation, every now and then, when the pain is very uncomfortable, I’ll start to ruminate. My mind will begin to make up stories about how severe the pain is, how much worse it’s going to get, what I could’ve done to prevent it, and anything else to resist the experience.

    But there are certain things you can’t know and certain things you can’t change. I’m doing the best I can to try and prevent the pain—I’ve seen a number of specialists, all with varying opinions.

    My focus now is, how can I reduce the resistance and alleviate the suffering?

    This is broadly related to another important existential issue and something that I want to explore with you in a little bit of detail.

    We all have to deal with situations that we have no control over; illness, death, and loss are inevitable. I’m going to share with you how I’ve faced this, in the context of my back pain, but it’s highly likely that you’re going through something comparable in your life right now. It might be something less obvious, like a part of your job that you’re not entirely comfortable with, or it may be a lot more serious, like the terminal illness of someone you love.

    Either way, we’re facing the same question: How can I be less anxious about the things I can’t change?

    Here are four things I’ve done to manage this anxiety.

    1. Keep track of the stories my mind is telling me about any situation.

    One thing that you realize by paying attention to your pain is that the mind is a master storyteller. The natural response to any uncomfortable situation is to create a mental novella equipped with a list of assumptions, a worldview, and a timeline about the past and future.

    Your job, however, is to tease out fact from fiction. If I have pain when I’m working, my mind might start to tell me the story of how I’m going to be late to the project I’m working on, or that I’ll never figure out how to overcome the pain, or any number of things that one, aren’t either true or knowable and two, aren’t the least bit relevant to the situation at hand.

    If you write down a list of the ideas you have about the thing you can’t change, you’ll start to see recurring themes and you can see the movie that’s playing in your mind without getting absorbed in it.

    2. Meditate on the pain and resistance and figure out which is which.

    Remember the Shinzen Young quote I shared earlier: “Suffering = Pain x Resistance.” Well, understanding when resistance to the situation is making up the bulk of your suffering is an incredibly useful skill to learn.

    You can do this in meditation by inquiring into your thoughts and feelings. I may ask myself “If I could accept this pain completely, just for a few moments, what would the pain feel like?”

    If the pain decreases significantly, it’s clear that the experience was dominated by resistance. If, however, there is little change, then it’s the physical pain itself that is the problem. More often than not I’ve found that resistance is worse than the pain itself!

    3. Highlight the positive aspects of the thing I can’t change.

    This is pretty much good old-fashioned re-framing. Focus your attention on what’s positive about the thing you can’t change, and very importantly, celebrate the little wins.

    For example, I try to tell myself, “My back hurts today, but at least it’s not stopping me from going to the gym.” And if I have a day where the pain is less serious than other days, I’ll make a mental note of it, and try to express it in some form, e.g.: “My day was good. I got a lot of work down and it was relatively pain-free.”

    4. Practice the art of letting go.

    This practice is something that comes hand in hand with noticing resistance. We don’t often think of letting go as a skill, but it is. In the same way we can become adept at holding onto something, we can learn how to do the opposite.

    There are two aspects of letting go that you can practice. Firstly, the depth of letting go; that is, how completely can you consciously let go of something that is bothering you.

    If I have a pain in my back and I exhale deeply, telling myself it’s okay, but five seconds later I’m thinking about how frustrated I am about the pain—well, I have a lot of practice to do.

    The second aspect is how appropriately you can do so in the moment, i.e.: how good your timing is.

    For example, if you spend all day worrying, but then you get home and right before falling asleep you let go, then your timing needs some work. If, however, you catch your mind telling you a story in the moment, and you can objectively see that it’s just a story, you’re on the right track! Meditation is one way to help you see things as they come up in real time.

    Learning to become less anxious about things you can’t change is an incredibly valuable life-long skill. It’s unfortunate that typically we have to come to learn this through real challenges and discomfort, but making the best of tough times is one of the beautiful things about being a human being!

    When have you learned to be less anxious about things you can’t control? Let us know in the comments; we’d love to hear from you!

  • There Are a Gazillion Little Ways to Be Kind (and It Benefits You Too)

    There Are a Gazillion Little Ways to Be Kind (and It Benefits You Too)

    “The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands.” ~Robert M. Pirsig

    One day while grocery shopping I was reaching for a head of lettuce when I heard a shrill, high-pitched wail from a few aisles over. It sent shivers up my spine. It was one of those sounds that grabs your breath and pulls it to your heart.

    It brought me back to a time I had long forgotten—a memory engrained in my brain from about twenty-two years ago when my children were toddlers. I remember those days of being exhausted and trying to wrap up the weekly shopping trip before the tantrum.

    Most people in the store tried to ignore it, but the shrieks came like contractions about every six minutes. People started rolling their eyes. One lady commented that children shouldn’t be allowed in stores. I felt really bad for this parent. I mean, we were all children once, right? It’s pretty rude to fault the parent for something that occurs naturally as a part of being human.

    Eventually, as I filled my cart, I ended up in the same aisle as the mom and child. Mom was spent. There was a Ziploc bag of Cheerios tucked next to the child and a stuffed animal that had probably been picked up off the floor of the aisle about fifty times.

    It is during times like these when we, as humans, need to pause and show some compassion. As a woman, I wanted to support a fellow sister. As a parent, I wanted to support a fellow parent. As a human, I wanted to let her know that stuff like this happens and it’s okay, and in a few years she’ll laugh telling stories like these.

    What I wanted to convey is that this was simply a very human moment.

    I think we’ve conditioned ourselves to overlook many things in life—to shrug it off, roll our eyes, and simply walk away. We evade interaction on a very basic level. We miss so many opportunities to extend our human kindness to each other.

    We live in a fast-paced world; we’re always on the go. We’re too worried about getting from Point A to Point B. Our brains are filled with thoughts and worries. We’re trying to stay two steps ahead of ourselves. Often this results in the failure to stop and do something nice for someone else.

    I think what’s happened in the world today is that we see poverty, abuse, disease, war, hunger, bullying, and violence so often that it is overwhelming. We feel dispirited. What we must remember, no matter how distressing the news is, that we have the power to make a change. It starts with us understanding that because we are human we have been bestowed with the power to change the world with kindness.

    What we need to remember is that when we offer kindness to strangers, we not only brighten their day, we brighten our own. When we express kindness to each other we establish or strengthen connections with each other. Sometimes it’s just a fabulous reminder of our humanness.

    The beautiful thing about kindness is that it lives in your heart. It’s always there waiting to come out and make an appearance. You always know it’s a true kindness when you don’t expect anything in return, like gratitude or reciprocation; you simply want to make someone feel better.

    Also, kindness is good for your health. Being kind regulates our heart rate; we get a warm, cozy feeling. Our brain releases dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins, all of which make us happy. And oxytocin also reduces inflammation in the heart, so kindness is literally good for your heart!

    Committing regular acts of kindness or simply showing kindness to others on a regular basis lowers blood pressure and reduces your chances of dying early.

    Regular practice of kindness also decreases pain and anxiety while giving your energy a boost.

    What are the human benefits of kindness?

    * Kindness builds empathy. It can help us to put ourselves in another’s shoes. It encourages us to do nice things for others because we would like others to do nice things for us.

    * Kindness builds gratitude. We look at the situations others are experiencing and we become grateful for what we have. Even when it’s not a lot, we can find the gratitude easier when we are kind to others.

    * Kindness creates a ripple effect of kindness. One simple act of kindness can put a smile on someone’s face for the rest of the day. It can make someone feel good. In their energy of feeling better that they, chances are they are going to say something nice or do something good for another person, and that baton of good feelings will get handed to another as the days go on.

    * Kindness gives a boost to our own self-worth as well as to the self-worth of the person we are giving the kindness.

    * Kindness is calming. It gives a new perspective for us to step away from a woe and allow that warm, cozy feeling to run through our veins.

    * When we are kind, we become a better human. Everything about us changes. Our demeanor, outlook, and our way of thinking. We become a conduit of hope.

    As for me in the grocery store? I played peak-a-boo for two aisles. I managed to get a smile and the baby’s tears dried up. She even offered me a Cheerio, which I pretended to eat.

    Something as simple as a childhood game relieved a bit of stress for another parent. It was a very simple act of kindness that didn’t cost a thing. To the mom, it was an unsaid acknowledgement of “You’re not alone and I understand what you’re going through.” It really is that simple.

    What did I walk away with? Well… I had pulled up some memories from a quarter century ago that made me smile. That evening when I got home I actually pulled out the kids old photo albums and started to recall my own adventures with them. I felt good knowing that I didn’t add to someone else’s stress by being rude or uncaring, and I made a child smile. I think that’s a pretty good day.

    You don’t have to wait until you see a screaming child in the grocery store; there are a gazillion little ways to spread kindness:

    Hold the door for someone (even if you are running late).

    Smile at people.

    Give up your seat on the bus or train.

    When you see a homeless person, look them in the eye and offer them a meal.

    Stop at an accident to see if anyone needs help.

    Help a parent get their baby stroller up the stairs.

    Volunteer somewhere.

    Let someone ahead of you in traffic without complaining.

    Help someone reach something off the high shelf.

    Visit an elderly neighbor.

    Buy lemonade from a child’s stand.

    Tell someone you love their outfit or hair.

    Tell someone they are a good parent.

    Leave a generous tip.

    Offer someone a tissue if they are crying.

    Do you have anything to add to the list?

  • To Reduce Stress, Stop Globalizing and Put Things in Perspective

    To Reduce Stress, Stop Globalizing and Put Things in Perspective

    “I’ve had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened.” ~Mark Twain

    Life happens. And sometimes when life happens, we can get pretty stressed out. I’ve found that the way we view situations can either reduce our stress or make it worse. Here is just one way we aggravate situations, possibly unnecessarily, and how we can adjust our perspective to keep stress in check.

    A colleague of mine claims that he is “calendar-challenged.” He is often unable to attend meetings at the last minute or shows up late. I am, by contrast, a planner. I live by my calendar and know what I am doing months in advance. The different approach that my colleague and I take in the way we plan—or don’t plan—can cause friction.

    I could interpret my colleague’s behavior as merely irresponsible and chalk it up to a fairly ingrained part of his personality. That situation is irritating at worst. Or, I could take his lackadaisical approach personally by assuming that he doesn’t value me or my time. That’s somewhat stressful. I could even interpret his behavior as intentional and assume that he takes delight in making me angry. That is really going to stress me out.

    Do you see how my interpretation of the behavior can be as benign as “he’s not a planner” and it can escalate all the way to a vengeful person determined to sabotage my career?

    When we draw conclusions about a situation without checking the facts first, we can escalate it into a full-blown crisis in our minds. In other words, our negative thinking can spiral out of control, rapidly increasing our anxiety, unnecessarily.

    That’s called globalizing. How we think about our circumstances can make all the difference in the level of stress we feel.

    Many of us have experienced a workplace where budget cuts or a bad economy results in layoffs. The pall that can settle over an organization going through a period of like this can cause a great deal of stress, even for those employees still employed.

    Enter globalizing. I have what I call “straight to bag lady” syndrome. I can become convinced that if I lose my job I will never find another one, I will become homeless, and then I will be forced to live on the street.

    During the downturn of 2008 when many organizations were shedding employees like leaves in the fall, I occasionally went into this spiral in my mind. My good friend and colleague, however, did not. When I would ask her if she was stressed out by the loss of colleagues around us, she would say, “Yeah, I’m not going to worry about it. Even if they let me go, I assume I can just find another job.”

    Wow. What I wouldn’t give to have her attitude.

    She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that there was a good chance she might lose her job. However, instead of globalizing and assuming everything would just get worse and worse, she was able to stick to the facts in her mind and not globalize. She knew she still had a job. She knew there was a good chance she might lose her job. If that came to pass, she had a plan in mind. Being a bag lady was not part of her plan.

    About a year into our firm’s layoffs, my colleague really did lose her job and she put her backup plan in place. She started her own business, something she had always wanted to do. Most importantly, throughout the year of layoffs, a legitimately stressful time in her life, she didn’t drive herself crazy with worry along the way by imagining the worst.

    I’ve heard that our bodies and brains respond to an imaginary worry in the same way they would if the imagined situation was actually happening to us. Why put ourselves through the stress of something that just isn’t as bad as we think?

    Globalizing places a very negative filter over our perception, causing stress and anxiety to feed on itself. We are, then, far more likely to interpret every situation as disastrous and to give the least benefit of the doubt to every person we encounter.

    The loss of a job is made worse by globalizing that we will never find another job again. The loss of a partner is made worse by globalizing that we will never find anybody else with whom to share our life—or that every member of our pool of potential candidates is horrible. The loss of a marriage is made worse by globalizing that we are not loveable.

    The best way to reduce anxiety is to look at the facts rather than our subjective interpretation of them. It is all the more important to doublecheck facts if we have come from anxious environments, where the people around us were globalizing up a storm.

    Digging into our own background to make sure we have not applied a negative filter to everyone we encounter is an important step. Doing so will cause us to lose the opportunities presenting themselves in times of perceived crisis or to miss out on all the people who would never dream of acting in a negative way toward us.

    Is my colleague’s calendar issue just an irritating quirk, is it part of an overall pattern of behavior that evidences one’s disrespect for another’s time, or is it evidence of something worse, such as intentional sabotage? Is my fear of going “straight to bag lady” based in reality in any way?

    One way I bring my perspective back to an objective one is by whipping out a pen and some paper and making a list that separates the facts from my fears.

    I can list the times that my colleague’s lack of organization affected me. Then I can all of the ways my colleague is respectful of me. When I step back and look at both lists, I will have a better picture of what that calendar quirk of his really means, if anything.

    My lists may show his calendar challenges as an anomaly compared to a long list of behaviors in which he is respectful and supportive of me. In that case, I can chalk up poor planning skills to an irritating and innocent habit, find a workaround to the problem, and be thankful I work with such a good guy. No one is perfect.

    On the other hand, if I see that there is a pattern of behavior in which my colleague seems to genuinely devalue me and my time, or the list reveals someone who is intent on sabotage and it is directed squarely at me, then I have clearly defined the problem at hand. Regardless of the results, they will bring my perspective much closer to reality instead of the anxiety-provoked interpretation that may be in my head.

    In gauging my risk of becoming a bag lady, I can write down all of the factors I have working in my favor. If I have solid work experience, a good education, and a good network of contacts, is there a reasonable expectation that I will find work, even in a poor economy?

    I can also list the backup plans available in case it takes a while to find another job. Perhaps I have savings, supportive friends and family, or an available line of credit at the bank. Since someone is always hiring even in the worst economies, I may need to start exploring other geographic areas or industries with opportunities.

    Reigning in our brains from globalizing a situation—even if it reveals that a problem does exist—still relieves our stress significantly. It defines the problem and it clarifies the extent of it, which enables us to respond appropriately. A problem accurately defined is already partially solved.

    Keeping globalization in check also means that we reduce the stress of the people around us. If we are constantly overreacting to others, assuming they have done something intentionally when their behavior is well intentioned—though perhaps imperfect—we are creating conflict that need not exist. People around us will distance themselves from us, since no one feels they can trust an overly sensitive, over-reactive, and accusatory colleague.

    If I freak out every time another of my colleagues is laid off, then the people around me will also keep their distance. They are focused on keeping their own anxieties in check and a frenetic worrisome person in their midst only makes it harder. Anxiety is contagious, but fortunately, so is calm.

    Are you inadvertently making a difficult situation even worse? Unfortunately, it is human nature to globalize about how badly things might be. It is our ego’s misguided attempt to gain control over an unknown. If we think about the worst-case scenario, then we will be prepared if it turns out to be true, right? Wrong. Globalizing just leads to the escalation of a situation.

    Regaining an objective perspective prevents us from floundering in negativity and enables us to move forward into a resolution that accurately addresses the situation.

  • Why I Stopped Trying to Fix Myself and How I Healed by Doing Nothing

    Why I Stopped Trying to Fix Myself and How I Healed by Doing Nothing

    “Everything in the universe is within you.” ~Rumi

    When I was twenty-three, I lost my job through chronic illness. I thought my life had ended, and I spent the next few years an anxious, panicky mess—often hysterical. Eventually, I took off to scour the globe for well-being techniques, and searched far and wide for the meaning of life and how to become well again.

    If you’re chronically ill, like I was, whether physically or emotionally, you’ve probably experienced the same misunderstanding, the same crazy-making “well, you look okay to me” comments, the same isolation, depression, and frustration that I felt.

    You’ve probably been on a bit of a quest for self-recovery. And so, you’ve probably also felt the same exasperation when trying to figure out which self-help theories actually work. It can be overwhelming, right? I thought so, too, but I came to find it was actually really simple!

    Searching the Globe for Self-Help Techniques

    So many people are full of advice: “Try CBT/ tai chi/ astrology/ vitamins/ rest more/ exercise more/ zap yourself with electricity/ eat better/ stop being lazy (always helpful!)/ do affirmations/ yoga/ meditation/ wear purple socks…” Okay, so no one ever actually recommended trying purple socks, but there were so many weird and wonderful recommendations that I found myself lost, which might explain why I went away to find myself!

    I traveled far and wide with my illness, training in every holistic therapy there was (which I loved; I’m curious, and well-being is my passion). But I was always searching for a ‘cure’ for my brokenness. I connected with yoga, meditation, and mindfulness on my journey, and I heard the very familiar Rumi quote: “Everything in the universe is within you.” This served only to confuse me even more as I struggled to analyze what it meant!

    In Bali, though, I felt I had found home in yoga, meditation, and mindfulness. I felt connected to myself. I felt like I understood that all I needed was within. My anxiety had gone, my panic had gone—and my chronic illness had gone, too! Then, I came home to the UK, and it immediately returned.

    I was disheartened. I still lived yoga and mindfulness—I loved it and I taught it at home—but the joy had gone from what I had once thought of as the answer. So, how was I absolutely okay in Bali and not at home? Was I a fraud? What was going on? There was so much thinking…

    What I Learned About Being Human

    It wasn’t until a year later that I discovered why, when I heard something differently. A colleague introduced me to a mentor who shared some profound insights about how the world really works.

    She explained the basic underlying reality of humanity: that underneath all of our thinking about “how to be happier” is a healthy wholeness and perfection that is already innate—without having to do anything. You see, the reason that I had felt any anxiety or panic at all was because I had just forgotten the truth of what it is to be human.

    The Power of Thought: All You Need Really Is Within

    Our human reality operates entirely through thought in the moment. Everything we feel is a result of our thinking. If we feel anxious, it’s because we are experiencing anxious thinking. If we feel happy, it’s because we are experiencing happy thinking. Our entire reality, therefore, really does come from within! It is an inside-out world.

    When we were born, we were perfect and whole, and not anxious. Then, when we gained the beautiful power of thought, we learned that the external comfort blanket was super comforting, because “it made us feel better,” right? Wrong. The blanket is an object, with no capacity to make us feel anything. One hundred percent of the comforted feeling came from our own thinking about the blanket. It’s the same with all of life.

    So, when I was in Bali, I thought I was okay because I was enjoying yoga and meditation, which I loved with all my heart. Thinking that the external could impact me, I felt 100% whole. I returned from Bali and my thinking about the external changed; it felt like I wasn’t happy, because I thought that I needed to be back in Bali. But the thinking came from me: the happiness or unhappiness was all dependent on my thinking in each moment.

    I didn’t remember this, so I attributed my happiness to the external. But it wasn’t, because we are always living in the feeling of our thinking in any moment. Everything comes from within.

    The Innate Wisdom Under Our Thinking

    The funny thing is that as much as this seemed profound to me when I heard it, it was also as if I already knew. It is innate wisdom that we just forget to tap into as we bustle through what feels a hectic pace of life.

    As I began to remember this wisdom, I found that I would start to notice my thinking; I’d become an observer of it, almost in a mindful, meditative kind of way, but I no longer needed to sit and meditate to be happy.

    New insights would come up as I stayed in the conversation about life, and more and more would drop away: the absolute reliance on meditation and affirmations in particular (though the joy returned for meditation when I realized there was less pressure to love it and just followed it because it was in my heart).

    Because under my thinking—under your thinking—is an innate wholeness that is always accessible to you in any moment, if you just see that your reality is entirely experienced through thought in each moment.

    Analysis Paralysis

    We spend hours of our lives analyzing how to be happy, how to stop being negative, how to meditate, how to be less attached, how to be more empowered, how to be more creative, how to be more whole. Don’t get me wrong, this can be interesting, if (like me) you have your own small self-help library! But it’s more important to drop out of your head and into your heart—like I did in Bali, and like I did when I allowed my thinking to just flow and stopped analyzing it.

    I still love yoga and meditation—I teach both and connect with them—but it’s to follow my heart, and I don’t need it. I’ve observed with clients, though, that sometimes it’s easy to misunderstand these concepts and get wrapped up in over-complication, analysis paralysis, denying true feelings, and forcing, trying to be ‘positive.’ This is why I ditched affirmations completely.

    Don’t Miss the Point: Clarity Through Trusting and Flowing, Not Forcing

    Some people miss the truthful essence of this beautiful wisdom. I’m a believer that we often try and force happiness and positivity through techniques like affirmations—and even in some meditation practices that suggest people need to “let go of thinking.”

    We can’t let go of thinking; it’s part of being human. And affirmations serve only to suppress our true feelings, which is dangerous. When we allow our thoughts to just flow through us instead, dancing with them through life, we create space where we would once have analyzed how to solve them; and it’s in this space where clarity can arise and we can see the truth.

    The truth is, we humans are a vessel of energy, and, I believe, part of something greater that has a plan for us—and through this human life, we are blessed with the amazingly abundant, creative power of thought. All we really need to do is let go and flow.

    All we really need to do is allow the feelings that arise from our thinking, conscious of the fact that our reality is constructed through thought. We just have to observe what comes up, embracing pleasant feelings and allowing the darkness without paying it much attention. Like an uninvited guest, it will eventually pass through, without you needing to do anything to get rid of it.

    These days, I laugh at the thoughts that come up and watch them with curiosity, marvelling at the creative capacity of beautiful brain, and knowing that underneath all of my thinking is the real truth: that I am entirely whole, perfect, and complete. Just like you. And you know what? I’ve not been anxious, panicked, or chronically ill ever since I remembered this truth of being a human living life through thought.

    I’m not suggesting that our illnesses are “all in our head” and that we can think (or stop thinking) our way to health. Everyone is different, and there are many different causes for the illnesses we experience, chronic or otherwise. But for me, everything changed when I allowed my thoughts to just flow.

  • Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal – Last Day for Three Free Bonus Gifts!

    Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal – Last Day for Three Free Bonus Gifts!

    Hi friends!

    Today’s the day! Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal is officially available for purchase, and today is the last day to claim the three free bonus gifts.

    Stored high in my closet I have a collection of more than a dozen journals from my childhood and teenage years.

    The early ones are full of angst, pain, and rage. During the later years I began to use journaling not just to vent my feelings but also to reframe my thoughts and recognize and overcome negative patterns. This helped me feel less stressed, depressed, and fearful and more peaceful, empowered, and optimistic.

    This is what compelled me to create this journal: I know from personal experience how journaling can help us move through difficult feelings and overcome mental blocks that prevent us from feeling happy, relaxed, and free.

    Whether you’re worried about the future, people you love, what people think of you, or any of the many things we can’t control in life, this journal can help you let go and calm your busy mind.

    Filled with quotes, prompts, and questions, along with coloring and doodling pages, Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal provides a number of different activities to help you reframe your worries and minimize anxiety in your daily life. 

    If you grab your copy today, you’ll receive the following:

    A series of four meditations on letting go (led by yours truly), each with an EFT tapping session led by Naomi Jansen and an introductory chat with Naomi and her One Mind Live co-founder Stephen Fearnley

    An exclusive audio interview with me and Ehren Prudhel, host of the soon-to-be-launched podcast Next Creator Up, focusing on worries related to pursuing a new dream (more specifically, my first feature screenplay)

    A series of three vibrant desktop wallpapers featuring adorable Buddhas and calming quotes

    All you need to do to claim your bonuses is pre-order your copy from any online vendor and then forward your purchase confirmation email to worryjournal@tinybuddha.com.

    We all worry; it’s just part of being human. But it doesn’t have to control us. Not if we proactively choose to work through our worries, one moment and one page at a time. I hope these exercises help you as much as they’ve helped me!

  • Perspective Coloring Page from Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal

    Perspective Coloring Page from Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal

    Hi friends! We’re now less than two weeks away from the launch date for Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal. As you may have noticed, I’ve been sharing some of the coloring pages over the past few weeks, all colored by yours truly, to give you a sense of what the journal has to offer. So far I’ve shared:

    In addition to coloring pages, the journal includes questions, written prompts, and doodle prompts to help you reframe your worries and minimize anxiety in your daily life.

    Really, it all comes down to perspective. Everything seems more difficult and overwhelming when we’re wading through the muck of a disappointment, crisis, or tragedy, knee-deep in our messy emotions. But oftentimes when we step back and view things in a different light, life suddenly seems more manageable, and sometimes the painful seems not only tolerable but also useful.

    There’s a Taoist fable that I’ve found particularly powerful because it reminds me not to panic when things go “wrong.” You’ve quite possibly read it before, but perhaps it’s something you need to read again today:

    A farmer had only one horse. One day, his horse ran away.

    His neighbors said, “I’m so sorry. This is such bad news. You must be so upset.”

    The man just said, “We’ll see.”

    A few days later, his horse came back with twenty wild horses following. The man and his son corralled all twenty-one horses.

    His neighbors said, “Congratulations! This is such good news. You must be so happy!”

    The man just said, “We’ll see.”

    One of the wild horses kicked the man’s only son, breaking both his legs.

    His neighbors said, “I’m so sorry. This is such bad news. You must be so upset.”

    The man just said, “We’ll see.”

    The country went to war, and every able-bodied young man was drafted to fight. The war was terrible and killed every young man, but the farmer’s son was spared, since his broken legs prevented him from being drafted.

    His neighbors said, “Congratulations! This is such good news. You must be so happy!”

    The man just said, “We’ll see.”

    You can’t see the whole picture from where you’re standing, so take a deep breath and remind yourself that things likely aren’t as bad as they seem. And even if the worst thing happened, you could handle it and maybe even grow and gain in ways you can’t possibly predict.

    From now until June 26th, you’ll get three bonus gifts, including a guided meditation series on letting go, when you pre-order Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal. All you need to do is order a copy here and forward your purchase confirmation email to worryjournal@tinybuddha.com.

  • Accept Yourself Coloring Page from Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal

    Accept Yourself Coloring Page from Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal

    Hi friends! If you’re a regular reader, you know I’ve recently been sharing some of the coloring pages from Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal, which includes questions, written prompts, and doodle prompts to help you work through worries and minimize anxiety in your daily.

    So far I’ve shared:

    Today’s page is one of my favorites, and not just because I love Rose Hwang’s beautiful illustration and enjoyed using so many bright colors.

    I love this page because it reminds me that imperfection is all about perception. What you consider a flaw someone else might consider a strength. What you feel tempted to hide someone else might perceive as beautiful.

    There’s a Japanese term, Kintsugi, that refers to the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with powdered gold or other precious metals. This practice began in the 15th century when Japanese military commander Ashikaga Yoshimasa wanted to repair a broken tea bowl in a visually pleasing way. Kintsugi has come to be known as way to honor an object’s history, rather than attempting to hide the damage.

    I think about this sometimes when I look at my left leg. I have a series of scars toward the top, remnants from a time when I channeled my depression and shame into self-harm. For a while I was too insecure to wear shorts or a bathing suit because I worried that someone might see them and judge me. Now when I look at them, I try to visualize the faded lines in gold.

    Then I remember those lines are like a map that led me directly here. Every other scar, physical or emotional, is a testament to my strength, not my weakness. And every idiosyncrasy, from my introversion to my sensitivity, is a gift, not a curse, that has enabled me to make a difference in the world.

    The same is true for all us: our scars, our quirks, our imperfections—these aren’t things we need to hide. We are who we are because of them, not in spite of them. And every colorful piece of our past and personality is part of what us makes us beautiful.

    From now until June 26th, you’ll get three bonus gifts, including a guided meditation series on letting go, when you pre-order Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal. All you need to do is order a copy here and forward your purchase confirmation email to worryjournal@tinybuddha.com.

  • 5 Journal Prompts to Help You Let Go of Anxiety and Find Peace

    5 Journal Prompts to Help You Let Go of Anxiety and Find Peace

    “You don’t have to control your thoughts. You just have to stop letting them control you.” ~Dan Millman

    There was a time when my mind was completely consumed by worries, and I lived in a perpetual state of panic.

    I worried about things I’d said and whether people were judging me, things I should be doing and whether I was using my time well, the state of my life, the state of the world, and just about anything else one could worry about.

    Life always felt scary and uncertain, so I always felt unsafe, and worrying gave me the illusion of gaining some semblance of control.

    Well-intentioned people advised me to just be positive—then I’d feel a lot better about life. But I’ve always found the concept of positive thinking somewhat frustrating.

    First, it made me feel guilty, since no matter how hard I tried to avoid negative thoughts, they’d inevitably pop into my head. Secondly, it was exhausting. To constantly monitor your mind takes monumental effort, and it seemed contrary to my goal—to be less burdened by my brain.

    Still, there’s no denying that our thoughts influence our feelings. When we sit around dwelling on everything that could go wrong, or everything we think we did wrong, we end up feeling drained and depressed.

    So what’s the solution then? How can we allow ourselves to be human and simultaneously ensure we don’t drown in our fearful thoughts?

    For me, journaling has been key.

    Journaling has helped me find solutions to my problems, identify and let go of things I can’t control, and change my perspective on the things I want to change but can’t.

    It’s also helped me recognize my own strength so that I can worry less about what’s coming and trust more in my ability to handle it, whatever it may be.

    If you’re looking for a little mental relief this week, I recommend starting each weekday with one of these five journal prompts from Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal: A Creative Way to Let Go of Anxiety and Find Peace. 

    The beauty of these particular prompts is that they help us focus on the moment, be kind to ourselves, and have faith in ourselves and our journey, wherever it may lead.

    5 Journal Prompts to Help You Calm Your Anxious Mind

    1. Today, I choose to let go of the things I can’t control, including…

    2. I recognize that I don’t need to have all the answers right now. Today, I give myself permission not to know…

    3. Dear inner critic: You always focus on everything I’m doing wrong, but I know I’m doing a lot right, including…

    4. I know I’m strong enough to handle whatever comes at me, because I’ve survived a lot, including…

    5. Instead of worrying about making the “wrong” choices, I trust that no matter what I choose…

    —

    You don’t need to write anything specific or lengthy, though you can take all the time you have and need. The important thing is that you get in the habit of thinking about yourself and your problems in a new way.

    It’s not about suppressing thoughts or replacing them with positive ones. It’s about directing your mind to useful thoughts so you can spend less of your life feeling worried and overwhelmed.

    Just like gratitude journaling can help us feel happier and more optimistic, keeping a worry journal can help us feel calmer and more at peace.

    If you’re interested in pre-ordering a copy of Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal, which officially launches on June 26th, you can reserve a copy here.

    Once you receive your purchase confirmation email, forward it to worryjournal@tinybuddha.com and you’ll receive access to the following free bonus items:

    • Four guided meditations on letting go (of control, the need for approval, stresses/pressure, and self-judgment)
    • Three colorful desktop wallpapers with cute Buddhas and calming quotes
    • An exclusive interview with me and Ehren Prudhel, founder of the soon-to-be-launched podcast Next Creator Up, in which I discuss how I’ve overcome worries related to writing my first feature film

    I hope these prompts (and the other activities in the journal) help you as much as they’ve helped me!

  • 3 Ways to Stop Worrying and Feel Less Anxious

    3 Ways to Stop Worrying and Feel Less Anxious

    “There isn’t enough room in your mind for both worry and faith. You must decide which one will live there.” ~Sir Robertson

    Do you consider yourself a worrier?

    Maybe even a perfectionist or Type A personality?

    When I’m not at my best, I can be all of those things combined. (Not cute, I know.)

    Because of this, I know exactly what it feels like to be stuck in my head, with tightness in my chest and emotional wrenches in my gut.

    If you also struggle with worry and anxiety, then I feel you. I rode the worry struggle bus for a long time—until I finally addressed my psychology.

    Why Your Psychology Matters Most

    My aunt once told me (after I called her in the middle of a freak out), “You’re worried because you’re trying to control the future Kari, and that’s impossible.”

    Woah. Paradigm shift. That’s when it all ‘clicked’ and I realized that my issues with worry and anxiety were all self-created.

    Then it got me wondering… If I created this worry and anxiety with my thoughts, maybe I can create relaxation with my thoughts too.

    After researching the psychology of worry, I learned some practices that helped transition me from an uptight chronic worrier into a pretty relaxed person. I still have my moments, but it’s nothing like before.

    Today, I’d like to share three of my best practices with you. I hope they can help you reduce your worry and anxiety too.

    Let’s start with the most practical piece of advice.

    1. Practice using coping imagery.

    This involves visualizing yourself handling worst-case scenarios with confidence.

    And just to be clear: You’re visualizing the worst-case scenario, not the best case. It’s like defensive pessimism, which can actually help with anxiety more than positive thinking.

    So instead of worrying about being crushed by the worst-case scenario, try visualizing yourself handling it with confidence.

    Here’s an example (that I cringe to share with you because it seems so silly in hindsight):

    I recently started dating a guy who I developed some serious feelings for. I had the most successful first date of my life with him, and it’s been amazing ever since.

    But instead of getting excited about the potential, I started worrying about all the things that could go wrong. (Like I said, being a worrier is self-created misery!)

    Specifically, I was worried that in the future we wouldn’t be able to see each other for weeks because he was crazy busy. I grew anxious over feeling devastated in the future by the potential lack of quality time I crave.

    Although it wasn’t even a problem yet, I started worrying about making plans to the point where I started sabotaging the romance by “trying too hard.”

    I let my anxiety consume me, and I became the chaser instead of allowing something beautiful to naturally unfold. I hated that I started to sabotage something beautiful, but in that moment, (it felt like) I couldn’t help myself.

    And this is where the switch happens.

    Instead of worrying about how devastated I would feel if we couldn’t spend time together, I started visualizing myself feeling okay if I didn’t get to see him. (I chose “okay” instead of “happy” because it needs to be realistic.)

    Instead of thinking about the void, I thought about all the other wonderful things I could do with my time, like surf or entertain my hobbies.

    This seriously helped put my mind and body at ease! Here are more details for the process:

    How to Do It

    To practice using coping imagery, start by imagining the situation that brings you anxiety. How do you feel? What are you thinking?

    Then, start to imagine a warm glow of confidence radiating from you. Imagine being in that situation feeling totally confident and capable. How does it feel? What are you thinking?

    Then, imagine something going wrong—something that you’re worried about—and imagine yourself handling that situation with confidence and ease too. What thoughts and feelings helped you handle it

    Get comfortable with these thoughts and feelings and keep mentally practicing them.

    This “mental rehearsal” helps activate neuroplasticity, your brain’s ability to rewire itself and form new neural connections, like new thought loops.

    The more you practice using coping imagery, the more you strengthen the new thought loops for positive thinking (or defensive pessimism) and weaken the thought loops for worrying.

    In time, you’ll naturally become less of a worrier because your brain has been trained to think confident thoughts instead of worrisome thoughts.

    2. Be willing to feel uncomfortable.

    Worry and anxiety often come from trying to protect yourself from pain. And I don’t blame you. Our primal brain is wired to seek pleasure and avoid pain; and anxiety is often caused by worrying about the potential pain that we might feel in the future.

    Sometimes we’re so afraid of emotional pain and loss that we forget that they can’t physically harm us.

    And this is where the saying “make peace with discomfort” will serve you very well, because your ability to be uncomfortable is directly related to your ability to be a relaxed person.

    Sometimes we assume that we need to be comfortable in order to be relaxed. But sometimes being relaxed simply means feeling uncomfortable and being okay with that.

    The more discomfort you’re able to tolerate, the less you’ll worry about preventing it from happening.

    For me, I had to develop the skill of tolerating uncertainty (which is an uncomfortable feeling for me) in my dating life. Although uncertainty feels uncomfortable, I learned to make space for it instead of worrying about making it go away.

    If you want to develop the skill of tolerating discomfort too, here’s how you can do it:

    How to Do It

    A great way to train yourself to tolerate discomfort is to take cold showers. Yup! Even just a five-minute cold shower a day can train your brain to tolerate discomfort.

    Not into cold showers? Another great practice is setting aside fifteen minutes every day as your “uncomfortable practice periods.” These practice periods will help you develop the skill of tolerating discomfort.

    So whenever you start to feel uncomfortable in your daily life, use it as practice. Hold space for the discomfort and make peace with it as best you can.

    For example, if you really hate public speaking, then use your weekly company meeting as a place to practice being uncomfortable by speaking up at least once.

    The more you practice feeling uncomfortable, the better you will get at being uncomfortable. And the more uncomfortable you’re willing to be, the less worry and anxiety you will feel.

    You’ll learn to let life unfold naturally without worry.

    3. Plan what you can and let the rest unfold.

    During the months preceding graduation from college I experienced the biggest bout of anxiety and worry that ever consumed me.

    What if I don’t get any interviews? What if I totally flunk the interview I get? What if I get the job and hate it? What if, what if, what if?

    Fueled by tons of stress, I worked really hard to apply to dozens of jobs before I graduated. In constant panic mode, I refused to leave my desk to play because I was convinced that every ounce of my energy needed to be dedicated to solving this problem.

    In the end, I ended up getting a job through a friend who happened to mention the opportunity through random conversation.

    I couldn’t have planned for that.

    All my preparation paid off, but there was one lesson that I took away from all the unnecessary worry and anxiety:

    If I had done everything the same, but did it all in a relaxed fashion, I would have created the same result.

    “Let go of the idea that gentle, relaxed people can’t be superachievers… One of the major reasons so many of us remain hurried, frightened, and competitive, and continue to live life as if it were one giant emergency, is our fear that if we were to become more peaceful and loving, we would suddenly stop achieving our goals.” ~Richard Carlson

    Sometimes we get tripped up thinking that stress is somehow essential for getting things done. And while some stress is beneficial, extreme stress and anxiety are not necessary for success.

    You can be a totally relaxed person and still get everything done—without worry.

    How to Do It

    Sit down and write down all the things you’re worried/stressed about. Then pretend like you’re coaching someone else with those problems.

    What advice would you give them? What steps would you have them take?

    Then, follow those steps and stop there. Don’t worry about whether or not you did enough. You followed your own advice, and you can relax about the rest.

    Plan what you can, and then breathe. Don’t let your mind continue to race about all the things that could go wrong (unless you’re using Coping Imagery).

    Just have faith that what’s meant to be will be, and let the universe carry you for a while.

    You’ve Got This

    Together, these three steps helped me seriously reduce my anxiety and worry. Will you join me and try them too?

    Start by making coping imagery and “uncomfortable practice periods” daily habits. This will help you develop the skill of tolerating discomfort, and your worry and anxiety will lessen.

    In time, you will get better at letting life unfold the way it was always meant to be.

    Some days you might still find yourself on the worry struggle bus. But maybe this time you’ll feel like you’re in the driver’s seat.