Tiny Buddha

Tag: appreciate

  • Because I Lost My Mom: 6 Gifts I Now Appreciate

    Because I Lost My Mom: 6 Gifts I Now Appreciate

    “The only thing you sometimes have control over is perspective. You don’t have control over your situation. But you have a choice about how you view it.” ~Chris Pine

    I had a happy, carefree childhood up until a point. I remember lots of giggles, hugs, and playfulness. One summer, as we were sitting in my grandmother’s yard enjoying her homemade cake, my mum’s right hand started trembling.

    My worried grandmother encouraged her to eat, but her hand continued to tremble. I remember her troubled look. She must have sensed something was wrong.

    Just three months later, she was gone. Acute leukemia meant that on Monday she received the results of a worrying blood test, on Wednesday she was admitted to the hospital, and by Friday she had died. I was only ten years old.

    My aunt broke the news to us that Friday afternoon by saying, “Your mum has gone to the sky.”

    If I were to explain what the news of her passing felt like, I would say it was like being hit by lightning. I’ve read that in cases of sudden death, children can stay stuck in some sort of confusing reality: They hear what happened and react to the news, but they don’t quite comprehend it. Somehow, deep inside, they don’t really believe it.

    In my case, and for years following my mum’s death, I thought that she had gone to the sky, but that she would come back. It was just a trip, or a bad joke.

    She would most definitely come back.

    As you might be guessing, I did not get much support in dealing with my grief. On the contrary, the message I got was that life should go on. That a page had turned, but the preceding pages weren’t worth reading.

    This is also how all the adults around me acted. So, even though lightning had struck me, I simply stood up and continued to walk, despite all the invisible damage it had done.

    The wake-up call to locate that damage and try to repair it came years later when I started experiencing health issues that my doctors said were linked to chronic stress. That’s when I finally decided to face my grief. My young adult body was giving me a clear sign: There were too many unprocessed emotions, desperately needing to find a way out.

    Once I allowed myself to finally feel that my heart had been shattered in a million pieces, I started putting those pieces together and redefining who I was.

    If my life were a book, grief would be the longest chapter. When I meet someone for the first time, I almost feel like saying, “Hi, I’m Annie, and my mum suddenly died when I was ten.” That’s how much it defines who I am.

    Negatively, you might think.

    Indeed, her absence still causes tremendous pain. I never felt this more than when I had my own children a few years ago. Becoming a mother does not mean that you stop being a daughter who needs her mother. You also become a mother who would like her children to have a grandmother.

    My mother is not there to spoil my daughters, and they will never get to know her. There is no one I can ask to find out how I was as a baby. She isn’t there to listen to my worries or fears while I navigate parenthood.

    I still get a ping in my heart when I see ten-year-old girls with their mums, seeing myself in them and re-living the immensity of such a loss. And as I am approaching the age she was when she died, I’m terrified that I will share the same fate and that my girls will grow up without me.

    Nevertheless—and I know this might sound contradictory, but aren’t grief and life full of contradictions?—in many ways, her absence has also been a gift.

    Thanks to her:

    –I fully embrace the idea “live every day as if it is your last” because I know that there is a very real possibility that this day might indeed be my very last. While you might think this means living life with fear, quite the opposite is true. It means living life full of appreciation, gratitude, and love for this body that is still functioning, for the people around me, and for life itself.

    –I choose to be truly present with my children and close ones and cherish deep relationships because I want to make the time we spend together count. If the memories we are creating are shorter for whatever reason, let them be powerful.

    –I have a job that gives me a deep sense of purpose and meaning because anything else would make me feel like I am wasting precious time that I don’t necessarily have. I’m honored to be making a difference in other people’s lives by helping them think differently about their lives and helping them through their own grief. I make it my goal to share my gifts with the world while I live on this planet.

    –I am (relatively) comfortable with the challenges that life throws at me. When you survive after the tragedy of losing a parent, you don’t sweat the small stuff as much. I still find myself getting upset by little things like anyone else, but I’m able to quickly change my perspective and realize that many of the things that upset us are not as important as we first think.

    –I know that I cannot control life because life is utterly uncontrollable. In fact, I was a control freak for years, trying to make sure nothing tragic would ever happen to me or my loved ones again, until I realized that this was a reaction to my mum’s passing. I now know this isn’t a way to live life, and that is liberating.

    –I take care of my health to feel good in my body, not because I want to live until I’m 100, but because I want to live well. I don’t want my days to be filled with the common ailments that people usually accept, such as headaches, brain fog, or digestive issues. I can only enjoy life fully if my body is allowing me to do so.

    If you have experienced early loss but cannot possibly imagine feeling anything positive about it, there is nothing wrong with you. I am sharing my story to perhaps inspire you or even give you comfort.

    Perhaps all you can do right now is stay open to the possibility that at some point in your life, you might be able to see things in a similar way. Ultimately, the path of grief is entirely unique.

    Would I wish early loss on anyone? Never.

    Has grief made me happier? Perhaps.

    Has it made me wiser? Definitely.

    Just as a friend once told me, “You can’t appreciate light without the shadows.”

  • 5 Ways to Start Valuing Your Time and Making the Most of It

    5 Ways to Start Valuing Your Time and Making the Most of It

    “It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

    Oh, how I loved sleeping when I was a teenager. I would sleep for twelve hours, just as babies do.

    And guess what else?

    Another favorite activity of mine was taking selfies until I finally had a perfect one, editing it, posting it on social media, and waiting for likes. And scrolling through the feed.

    Wow. So unusual nowadays.

    I didn’t care what I was doing with my life. I chose a university degree just for fun and finished it just because I started it. I don’t even like what I chose. I had no goals, no ambitions. I was just drifting through life.

    But then adult life got in the way. Suddenly, I was married and had a child.

    What a turn.

    Now I don’t even have Instagram.

    Do you know why? Because I started valuing my time.

    And I am here to tell you that you need to do it too if you want to live a fulfilling life.

    Why should you value every second of your life?

    When I became a mom, I barely had time to brush my teeth. I didn’t have time to do anything that wasn’t related to my son.

    I started regretting all the time I’d wasted before.

    But let’s be clear: It’s not about productivity. It’s about living your life to the fullest.

    You see, when you value your time, you start valuing your life. You set your priorities straight and start doing things that matter to you. And that’s when life gets really good.

    Although my situation might be different from yours, time is one thing we have in common. And you’ve heard it a million times, but time is our most precious commodity.

    It is non-negotiable. You can’t buy more time, no matter how rich you are. And you can’t save time either. You can only spend it.

    Time waits for no one. So the sooner you start valuing your time, the better.

    Here are a few things that have helped me start valuing my time and life more that might help you too.

    1. Set your priorities straight.

    Oh, priorities. They are so important, yet we often forget about them.

    If you want to start valuing your time, you need to set your priorities straight. Ask yourself what is really important to you and start making time for those things.

    Ask yourself:

    • What do I want to do, achieve, and experience in life?
    • Who and what matter most to me?
    • What makes me happy?
    • Where do I see myself in five years?

    For me, the answer to these questions was simple: I want to value time with my son more. And I want to find a way to balance work and life.

    What I don’t want is to be glued to my phone while my son is next to me, or to watch movies instead of making small steps toward having my own business.

    Self-care is on my list of priorities too. I make sure to have enough time for myself. Even if it’s just ten minutes a day (to have a cup of coffee in silence), it makes all the difference.

    Self-care keeps me sane and happy. And when I am happy, I can give my best to my family.

    2. Realize the importance of limited time.

    We all have limited time on this earth, and we need to make the most of it.

    The idea of limited time gives so much magic to this life. It makes things more precious. And when you start realizing life is precious, time becomes more valuable to you.

    On top of that, it makes you more aware of your mortality. It might sound depressing, but it’s not. It’s actually very liberating. Just think about it: If you knew you’re going to die soon, what would you do differently?

    Do it now so you don’t end up with regrets about how you spent your time.

    I think about death every day. I accept it. And I thank the universe for being mortal.

    We never know when we are going to die, so the best thing we can do is to live each day as if it’s our last.

    3. Notice what your distractions are and eliminate (or at least minimize) them.

    We all have our own distractions. It can be social media, Netflix, video games, or anything else.

    Here is how I deal with my distractions.

    • My main distraction was Instagram. I deleted it.
    • Then, movies. I decided to watch only one movie per week. No TV series (all they did was make me escape my reality).
    • Internet surfing is another one. I decided to use the internet only for work and research. No more browsing without a purpose.
    • I open the app only if I want to relax for twenty minutes and watch something. Otherwise, it’s a huge time waster (I used to open the app and scroll through it for five minutes with no purpose).

    Once I did that, I noticed that sometimes I even got bored. And I love that feeling of not picking up my phone every time I have a free minute. I just enjoy it.

    4. Consciously choose to do one thing despite countless other activities you could be doing.

    You know those moments when you’re about to do something, but then you wonder, “Should I really be doing this? I could be doing something else.”

    This is a common feeling. We often have so many options that it’s hard to choose just one. But simply do that. Choose one activity and stick to it.

    It doesn’t matter if it’s the “right” choice or not. There’s no such thing as “right” when it comes to how you spend your time.

    I recently listened to a podcast by Oliver Burkeman. He said that we don’t want to make choices. We don’t want to decide. We want to let all the options remain available to us. This is also why we love dreaming about the future. Because all the options are open.

    But we need to make a choice. It is so liberating to make a choice. It gives you a sense of control over your life and your time and it keeps you moving forward instead of standing still.

    So, choose one thing and do it. You will feel so much more in focus because you know where you are going.

    For instance, I am writing this article. I could be doing a million other things, but I choose to do this. And it feels great. I am all in. And I am focused because I am not thinking about other things that I could do.

    5. Know that failure is a sign you’re using your time well.

    When we start a project or an activity, we want to do it perfectly. We need to be the best. Otherwise, we think it’s a waste of time.

    In reality, it is life itself. You can’t prevent failure. You will fail. A lot.

    And that’s a good thing. Failure is a sign that you’re trying something new; that you’re pushing your limits, learning, and growing.

    How can we make the most of our failures?

    • First, accept them. Don’t try to bury your failures or pretend they never happened. Acknowledge them and learn from them.
    • Second, put things in perspective. This one opportunity didn’t work out, but it’s not the last you’ll get.
    • Finally, focus on the successes in your failure. Odds are something good came from it, even if you can’t see it just yet.

    Oh, I failed so many times. I lost years of my life in failure. But I am grateful for every single one of them because they made me grow and become better, maybe even wiser.

    My biggest failure is probably my university degree. It’s three years of my life. I was so naive thinking that I can succeed no matter what bachelor’s I choose. And I chose the easiest one.

    Turns out, there is nothing I can do with my bachelor’s degree. It’s useless.

    I could have spent those three years better, but I am not regretting it. Because if I didn’t fail, I wouldn’t be so motivated today to start my own business and to create something that has meaning.

    —

    As I said in the introduction, I was once horrible at valuing my time. But I am glad to say that I have changed. It certainly wasn’t easy. And I am not an expert at this. I still must remind myself to value my time. To cherish every moment.

    But my alarm doesn’t annoy me when it wakes me up in the morning anymore. It’s a reminder that I get to wake up and enjoy my time on this earth.

    I am grateful to still be alive.

    The time that you took reading this article is valuable. I hope it will make you value your time even more.

    Remember that time waits for no one.

    Remember that it’s non-negotiable.

    Remember that you can’t save it.

    You can only spend it wisely.

  • How to Make Someone Smile: 10 Mindful Acts of Kindness

    How to Make Someone Smile: 10 Mindful Acts of Kindness

    “The greatest gifts you can give someone are your time, your love, and your attention.” ~Unknown

    The other day I saw this phrase on social media: “Spread kindness, not COVID-19.” And I started thinking about how kindness is contagious, which reminded me of a viral video I’ve always loved:

    A skateboarding kid falls, and a construction worker helps him up. The kid then sees an elderly woman struggling with grocery bags and helps her carry them across the street. That woman then gives coins to a woman at a parking meter who’s rifling through her purse. And on and on it goes—one act of kindness rippling through the city as each person pays it forward to someone else.

    I think we could all use a little extra love and kindness right now. We could all use a reminder that even when times are tough, people care. And that’s what really matters. Not that we have everything we want, but we have everything we need, because people are looking out for us.

    And really, I think that’s that foundation of kindness: paying attention. Noticing when people are struggling, or when they’re in need of ear, or when they could use a little encouragement or motivation to keep moving forward. Noticing the good in people and acknowledging what we see.

    In our easily distracted world, a little attention truly is the best gift we can give anyone, because we all want to feel seen, heard, valued, and understood. At the end of the day, even the hardest of challenges feel a lot easier when we know we’re not alone.

    So below I’ve listed a handful of COVID-friendly ideas to practice mindful kindness and make someone smile. Tag, you’re it—pass the good vibes on!

    1. Ask someone to tell you the best thing that happened to them lately, or something they’re excited or passionate about, and fully listen.

    Most people love talking about themselves and their passions, but we don’t always get the opportunity, especially when the people around us are busy or stressed and not available to fully listen. Get someone talking about something that you know will light them up and ask questions to get them to elaborate on the details and to show you’re truly interested.

    2. Notice when someone is using one of their strengths and compliment them.

    We all have strengths, but we don’t always recognize them, perhaps because they feel like second nature to us, or we assume other people do whatever it is better.

    Tell someone they’re an amazing listener if they’re tuned in when you’re talking, or you admire their empathy if they defend someone who others are gossiping about, or you love their ingenuity and entrepreneurial spirit if they’re discussing a new business idea they’re considering.

    3. Scan your environment today for things that remind you of people you love and text them to let them know you thought of them, and why.

    This is a win/win because looking for things in your environment that make you think of people you love will get you out of your head and pull you into the moment. And sharing these things with other people will make them feel valued and loved.

    Use all your senses for this one. Maybe it’s the smell of a certain food that brings you back to an amazing meal you shared with a friend. Or it’s a song on the radio that you and your sister listened to obsessively in high school. Or it’s the feeling of snow crunching under your shoes that reminds you of a particularly memorable ski trip with your cousin.

    4. Tell someone why you’re grateful for them, noting something specific about their character or something they did recently.

    We all have a natural negativity bias, which means we’re more apt to focus on our mistakes, flaws, and shortcomings than all the good we do and the value we provide to the people around us—which is why a little acknowledgement can go a long way.

    A while back my sister posted a meme with the Tinman holding a heart on my Facebook page, because that was the character I played for a decade when she and I performed Wizard of Oz shows at kids’ birthday parties when we were young. The wording read “For anyone who’s feeling unloved today, I love you.”

    In the description, my sister wrote: “I saw this and immediately thought of you (for a couple of reasons). You’re the most incredible and empathetic person I know… and you exude so much love to everyone (especially me). The world is beyond lucky to have you in it, and no one has a bigger heart than you. I love you.”

    I can’t remember ever feeling so seen, valued, and loved!

    5. Recognize someone in your life who is doing something hard, then let them know you’re proud of them, and why.

    Perhaps this is someone in your household who’s juggling work and parenting and thinks they’re failing—even though they’re giving both their all. Or maybe it’s a kid who’s doing great with online learning, while missing their friends and usual activities. Bonus if you have a little “I’m proud of you” gift, that could be something as small as a coffee or hot chocolate, just like the person likes it.

    6. Tell someone in the service industry—a mailman, a grocery store employee, any other essential worker—they’re doing a great job, and why.

    I know several essential workers who’ve had less-than-pleasant pandemic experiences, either because of mask-related confrontations or customers taking their stress out on them. Take a minute to recognize the wonderful job someone is doing and let them know specifically why you appreciate their efforts, whether it’s their skill, their know-how, their energy, or the kindness they show to the people they’re serving.

    7. If someone around you seems overwhelmed, ask if they want to relax together for a few minutes, without having to talk, and listen to some of their favorite songs.

    I don’t know about you, but I always feel good when I listen to my favorite music, but I don’t always think to take a few minutes to relax and turn on some tunes when I feel a sense of urgency to get things done. It’s a simple thing that just takes a few minutes, but it can be wonderfully rejuvenating!

    8. Take pictures of things that make you laugh or smile today and text them to people you love.

    This is another win/win because you will likely notice things that will make you smile that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t consciously looking for them, and you’ll give someone else a smile or laugh when they least expect it.

    I remember texting my brother a picture of a tree that appeared to have a…. male body part. I know, very immature, but also very funny! I texted him “Look, a treenis!” and we both had a good laugh.

    9. Compliment someone on a body part—for its function, not how it looks—when you notice them doing something they might not recognize as impressive.

    For example, tell someone you’re amazed by their arm strength when they lift something heavy, or you’re impressed by their endurance after they complete a long workout. Or tell someone, as they’re chugging water or eating a kale salad, that you’re really inspired by how well they take care of themselves and how it helps them stay healthy and strong.

    10. Set aside at least fifteen minutes today to do something fun that gets you into a state of flow.

    This list wouldn’t be complete without a mindful act of kindness for ourselves! I don’t know about you, but I sometimes think, “I’ll relax when I finish…” and then find that the time never comes. So, to make sure I practice self-care, I need to schedule it in, between all the things I need to get done.

    Some of my favorite flow activities include walking outside, coloring in an adult coloring book, doing a few yoga poses, and singing along to show tunes. Find your flow, however you can. Do something childlike. Do something fun. Do something mindless. Give yourself a chance to relax and enjoy, because you work hard, and you deserve it! And even if you don’t work hard, you still deserve it, simply for being you.

    —

    I hope these ideas inspire you to spread a little extra love in your home and virtual sphere of influence! And I would love to hear any ideas you have to add to the list—or any stories of kindness you’ve recently witnessed or experienced.

    Just sharing your story is an act of kindness, because you never know who could inspire or uplift.

    —

    To help us feel more present and peaceful, I’m currently running a holiday sale for my newly launched Mindfulness Kit, which includes four aromatherapy-based products for stress-relief and relaxation and three FREE bonus guides for daily calm. For a limited time, it’s available for $29 (usually $45).  I hope it brings a little serenity to you or the people you love!

  • If You Feel Stuck and Tired of Waiting for Things to Get Better

    If You Feel Stuck and Tired of Waiting for Things to Get Better

    “I am not a product of my circumstances. I am a product of my decisions.” ~Stephen Covey

    In August 2019, I was sitting in my therapist’s office with my head in my hands. I was heartbroken over a recently ended relationship, stuck working a job I wasn’t excited about, and I was living across the country from my closest friends and family. I felt like I couldn’t do much to change my situation because I was about to enter my final year of university, and I needed to stay put.

    “Sometimes, life is a logjam,” my therapist said. I visualized giant, sliced-up oak trees floating on a river, stacked up on top of each other.

    “You’ll be done university by April next year, then you’ll be free to do what you like,” she said. I don’t think my therapist intended for me to interpret her message this way, but at that moment, I dubbed my life the “logjam.” I accepted that life would be hard for me until graduation in April 2020.

    It was easy for me to feel sorry for myself. First thing in the morning, I would roll over to my phone and scroll mindlessly. I started each day by looking at people online: people in happy relationships, traveling freely, eating fancy food at fancy places. I started to notice that this action was causing me to suffer.

    One morning, I decided I wouldn’t start my day like that. Instead, I’d leave the phone where it was and go for a walk. I began my days by heading out for a thirty-minute walk, rain or shine. The boost of exercise endorphins paired with distance from my smartphone felt great.

    As I walked, I fantasized about April 2020—the month when I’d be able to take a trip somewhere to celebrate my graduation, I’d find a new job, I could move to a new city, and without being in school… I’d have time for dating again! The countdown was on. In April, I’d finally be able to enjoy my life again.

    When my university closed down in March due to COVID-19, I thought for sure it would reopen by graduation in April.

    We all know where this is going.

    April 2020 came and went, and the pandemic spread across North America. As Canada implemented more and more restrictions, I realized that I had spent the better part of a year counting down the days until my circumstance would change. I thought that if I could make it to April, all my freedom and happiness would be restored. But April came, I lost my job, I moved back into my mom’s house, and activities like travel and dating were off the table.

    The pandemic has thrown a lot of our lives into a logjam. A lot of us feel stuck. A lot of us have our eyes set on the future, when the logs will begin rolling again. Maybe you’re thinking, “Everything will be back to normal by the winter.” Of course, it might be, and I hope so. But it also very well might not be back to normal by then.

    Take this advice from someone who spent the better part of last year counting down the days until I could enjoy my life: the logjam is in our mind, and it will last as long as we believe it’s there.

    My morning walks are different now. Instead of thinking about all the things I’m going to do in the future, I think about what’s happening right now. How can I be a better daughter, sister, friend? What will I do to take care of myself today? What am I grateful for at this moment?

    Incredible growth comes from learning how to adjust and survive in undesirable conditions. Sometimes life requires us to keep our head down and focus on one foot in front of the other. Life can’t always be pure joy and lots of fun. Life can’t always be a happy relationship, vacations to amazing destinations, or fancy foods at fancy restaurants. Sometimes life is harder than that.

    Many people in the world right now are experiencing much worse than a mental logjam—loss, illness, financial hardship, violence, and discrimination have been the reality for many in 2020. A lot of people are struggling to pay their bills, overwhelmed by work or unemployment, unpredictability of childcare and healthcare, dealing with sick relatives, etc. Maybe you’re one of them.

    But if, like me, you’re blessed enough to have most of your needs met right now, keeping things in perspective can make this slow and sticky time a little more bearable. And it can also help prepare you for times when things are far harder. The better we can cope with moments when we feel stuck, the better equipped we’ll be to deal with life’s most heartbreaking challenges.

    It’s a skill to be able to feel content when things around us look bleak. I’m not going to pretend that living with a parent and losing my job is where I pictured myself this summer. And I won’t pretend that every day has been really easy simply because of a morning walk. But the mindfulness I’ve practiced over the last year has helped me to see the glass as half-full.

    This summer I’ve spent every single day swimming in a lake. I’ve reconnected with childhood friends. I’ve been able to help my mom raise a new puppy. I’ve been able to write articles like this one, without the stress of grades and a timeline. While it isn’t what I imagined my summer looking like after finishing university, it’s wonderful in its own way.

    Instead of criticizing ourselves, our lives, or each other during these unprecedented times, try to take a full-bodied breath, put your feet on the ground, and feel the life that’s still happening all around you. You may have a lot of responsibilities and be facing major challenges, but if your circumstances allow it… I challenge you to start making the best of this unpredictable year.

    Choose to see the logs rolling down the river, untethered by each other, moving forward toward everything that’s coming next.

  • Why I Appreciate Simple Things in Life After The Coronavirus

    Why I Appreciate Simple Things in Life After The Coronavirus

    “It’s not a bad idea to occasionally spend a little time thinking about things you take for granted. Plain everyday things.” ~Evan Davis

    Let me go back in time. Not too long, but only six months ago when the virus outbreak hadn’t occurred yet. I was cursing the traffic, complaining the beer in a bar was not chilled enough, and hating that the supermarket next to my house did not have my favorite deodorant.

    Soon after, due to the global pandemic, my country was under lockdown like many others. When I was indoors, I realized how beautiful and blessed I was to have the life which I otherwise assumed was regular and usual. Little did I know that I was taking things for granted and complaining about the most trivial problems.

    When I look back now, I notice many special areas of life whose importance I failed to understand earlier.

    1. Freedom

    I had the choice to go wherever I wished and do whatever I wanted. As long as I did not do anything illegal or break any rules, of course.

    I had the freedom to live life like I wanted to. No holds barred, and no questions asked. It was my life and my choice.

    Yet, if I had to drive too far, I would whine about the miles I had to cover. During the lockdown, I needed a valid reason to travel that distance and face cops who most certainly wouldn’t allow me to get there.

    Staying indoors has taught me that losing control of the fundamental aspects of your life makes you uncomfortable. These are the things we consider usual and expected. We only realize the value of them when they vanish.

    2. Comfort

    Life and technology have evolved by leaps and bounds over the years. In fact, life today is drastically different from what it was a decade ago. Back then, you needed to carry a digital camera for photos, self-driving cars hadn’t hit the road yet, and group messages were not even a thing.

    Now, we enjoy so many benefits from the comfort of our couch. You can order food, get your car washed, or send a package to your friend without stepping outside your front door. When the delivery executive arrived ten minutes late, I would mentally curse the company for making me wait.

    During the lockdown, I would wait a whole day for the same service. The comfort of technology and the services various businesses provide are priceless.

    3. Variety

    I had a hard time picking vegetables. I would roll my eyes saying, “Someone needs to produce new vegetables. I can’t eat the same all the time.” That was despite having a large variety in the supermarket. I wanted something fresh and new.

    The same applied for the cereals I bought, the restaurants I dined at, or the shopping mall I visited. I had enough of the cereals that seemed to taste the same. I was fed up with the restaurants in the vicinity of my house. I wanted other shopping options than the usual mall next door.

    I would travel an extra distance to add variety in my life. During the lockdown, I did not even have the privilege of relishing the usual options.

    The more variety we have, the more we crave. Desire is like a treadmill running on infinite electricity. It never comes to an end.

    4. The fun outside

    No matter which city you live in, you have umpteen opportunities to have fun and relax. I had the option to watch any movie I like, go bowling no matter how bad I was at it, or enjoy the adrenaline of a kart race.

    Even though I had very many ways to have fun, I compared my city with others. I complained, “Damn, my city has no options to enjoy nature. I have to go miles away for a trek.”

    When I was locked in and resorting to board games, I realize how fun-filled my city actually is.

    5. The human interaction

    When I went out with a large group, it would take a toll on me. Being an introvert, I preferred only a certain level of interaction. Beyond that, I would choose to be by myself than socialize. The smiles seemed artificial, and the handshakes appeared unnecessary.

    Today, when I come across a passerby, the smile lies hidden behind the mask, and a handshake is out of the question. Earlier, we called the people around us a “crowd,” today we call our situation “isolation.”

    The memes on the internet, which say that introverts feel no difference locked indoors, aren’t true. Both introverts or extroverts need at least some form of interaction to feel connected with the rest of the world.

    6. The power of teams

    Before, whenever we had to solve a problem at work, we would gather in a room and exchange ideas. Many complex issues found a solution because human beings can improve on each other’s thoughts to reach the desired outcome.

    Today, facilitating such a conversation is a nightmare. Video conferencing tools provide a viable workaround for one on one discussions and team meetings where everyone shares updates. But they cannot replace a bunch of smart people sitting in a real room discussing ideas at tandem.

    Moreover, teams who see each other every day, gel along better. The physical presence creates a bond beyond just work relationships. It is the strength of such bonds that facilitates organizations to achieve massive goals.

    I realize the power of teams, even more today when they cannot operate like they used to.

    7. The giant web of economy

    The economy is like a huge castle constructed of many individual Lego blocks. When you take one out, you feel no difference. Take another out, still not too big of a pinch. Take a few more out, and the entire structure collapses into mayhem.

    Different parts of the economy are interdependent, even if they do not seem apparent. Shutting down public transport left many people unemployed and unable to earn their daily wages. A lack of transportation implied goods couldn’t flow freely. As a result, we did not have all the supplies in your supermarket.

    Every contributor to the economy helps it remain steady. When everything runs well, you don’t notice their contribution. When a few portions break, you understand their role in keeping the whole structure stable together.

    The Lessons I Learned from the Lockdown

    The past weeks of the lockdown have taught me some invaluable lessons I will remember for the rest of my life.

    1. Enjoy the present.

    I have targeted gigantic goals for a long time. As a result, my eyes are always on the future, and each day is a grind to get there.

    But the world around you is full of things to relish, cherish, and enjoy in the present. I am not saying you must stop chasing your goals and enjoy today alone. I will continue pursuing goals like before, and so should you. But while you are on this journey, don’t forget to pause and experience the happiness around you.

    Don’t lose the sense of the present by solely focusing on the future.

    2. You feel the pain only when something is missing.

    Some of the things of your day to day life seem normal and expected. For example:

    • You expect to find all you need in a supermarket
    • You expect the pizza to arrive within thirty minutes
    • You expect the mechanic to show up and fix your broken vehicle

    Over time, such expectations make you lose the value of little things in life. Don’t take such things for granted. You never know why and how they can be snatched away from you. You only feel the pain when you lose the privilege altogether.

    3. Your emotions are defined by what you choose to see.

    No matter who you are, what you do, and which part of the world you belong to, you always see what you want to see. If you want a reason to complain, you will find a ton of things around you that aren’t right. If you seek happiness, you will notice many parts of your life that are a reason to rejoice.

    Everyone shows a common reaction when things go well. Someone gives a toast, people clink their glasses, and everyone dances to the music.

    But you cannot always control the world around you to work in your favor. The market can collapse, a natural calamity can occur, or a virus outbreak can happen.

    What you can control is how you respond to such calamities to stay strong. Your reaction to such mishaps is what defines you.

    The global pandemic due to the coronavirus made my life harder. But, on the positive side, it has made me stronger.

    “When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways—either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits or by using the challenge to find our inner strength. Thanks to the teachings of Buddha, I have been able to take this second way.” ~Dalai Lama

  • How to Appreciate Life (Even During a Global Pandemic)

    How to Appreciate Life (Even During a Global Pandemic)

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans.” ~John Lennon

    When I was in my late twenties I went on a trip with my mom and brother to Scotland.

    Though I was a bit trepidatious about spending so much time with my family, I was excited for the trip too. When it finally arrived, I couldn’t wait to see the gorgeous Highlands, tour ancient castles, and eat endless amounts of shortbread. When we got there, I did exactly that, and it was incredible.

    But though I loved my mom to the moon and back, like many parent-child relationships, she also got on my nerves a lot. As the trip progressed, I found myself annoyed at how many pictures she took, her repetition of the same stories, and how late she’d sleep (and snore) in the mornings while I itched to get out exploring.

    Lack of contact with my friends and a lack of personal space from my family had me crawling out of my skin with impatience and frustration.

    I’d listen to Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now each morning as I drank my coffee; his reminders to stay present in the moment (the “now”) reminded me it was pointless to “argue with reality” and wish I wasn’t where I was. But inevitably, by the end of the day I found myself counting the sleeps until I got to fly home and sink back into normal life.

    What I couldn’t have known on that trip was that my mom would die of a heart attack mere months after getting back to the states. The pictures she was so bent on taking every five minutes would be her last few captures of earth; the conversations we had over hotel breakfasts would be some of our last mother-daughter interactions. 

    I couldn’t have known it at the time, but I’d soon ache for her repetitive stories, miss shoving the pillow over my ears as she snored, and long for a “do over” of certain moments where I acted like a brat.

    In the years since she’s been gone (and through a lot of self-work) I’ve forgiven myself for being human and wishing my time on that trip away—but that experience taught me that we can never take time, life, or the people in it for granted.

    Though it’s easy to forget, life is always only happening in the present, and good old Eckhart Tolle is still right when he reminds me (repeatedly) of the power of now.

    But however well I learned this lesson after my mom’s death, this feeling of wanting to fast forward into the future is one I’m noticing a lot lately, both in myself and the culture as a whole.

    The Coronavirus pandemic has caused many normal parts of life to screech to a halt, and it sort of feels like life itself is actually halted too. After all, for those lucky enough to not be ill (or have ill loved ones), the changes to daily life seem like a giant “pause” button has been pressed on our world—like we’ve stepped into some dystopian movie.

    When will I be able to go back to work?

    When will we know that the curve has flattened?

    When will I feel safe in a crowd again?

    When will this be over?

    When we watch those dystopian movies, we know that eventually we’ll be able to get up from the movie theater, throw our popcorn bucket away, and continue with regular life.

    But this current version of the world isn’t a movie: it is real life, and though it feels anything but normal, there’s no one holding a giant remote keeping us on pause. Though the roads are empty and the grocery shelves bare, the calendar pages still fly by and each day that passes is one of a limited number we each have in life.

    If losing my mom unexpectedly taught me anything, it’s that I don’t want to wish life away, even when things feel bleak, overwhelming, or downright scary. Life is happening right now, and there are ways we can continue to live it while still holding space for the surrealness of it all.

    In the spirit of being present with what is and making friends with even an uncomfortable reality, I offer you some tried and true steps for staying present with life—whatever it may be bringing.

    1. Start your day intentionally

    In the most normal of circumstances it’s tempting to start the day by grabbing our phones, and in the midst of a pandemic it can feel almost responsible to check the news at the crack of dawn. But unless we’re actually headed out the door at the very moment our feet hit the ground, there’s no reason to make a screen (or the news and opinions on it) the first thing that we see.

    Starting our day with things outside our immediate reality can introduce panic, anxiety, and a frightening picture of what the future day or week might hold.

    Before interfacing with the world, I’ve found that spending at least a half hour with just myself (and the family right in front of me) can ground me in the present and equip me with the foundation to face what’s going on elsewhere.

    Within this time, I imagine how I want my day to go: How do I want to feel, respond, or show up to whatever happens? Yes, imagining the day ahead involves leaving the present—but in a way that lays a foundation of protection for each future moment that the day will bring.

    2. Check in with what’s real

    What’s actually real to me right now? Not what’s on the news, not what I wish were happening, but what is right in front of me?

    I do this by asking myself: How am I feeling physically, emotionally, spiritually? I babble with my baby and “talk” to her about what I see, hear, smell, taste, and feel.

    Though it is responsible to stay informed about community guidelines and general advisories about the current pandemic, checking in with our senses and what is truly real in our world can keep us from zooming forward into the imagined dystopian future.

    3. Take off the productivity pressure and slow down

    Regular life is often filled with lots of rushing: rushing to work, dropping the kids off, walking the dog, or getting that “thing” accomplished and behind you. Being quarantined has abruptly cut off much of that “hustle” mentality, but we sneaky humans find ways to hold onto our comforting (if unhealthy) habits.

    One of those habits is the tendency to stay busy. During this “stay at home order” I’ve seen a productivity push emerge: a pressure to take this time to learn, create, accomplish, perfectly schedule your children, organize community initiatives, and do it all without physical support from your regular village.

    If you’ve got the bandwidth to use this time in a “productive” way that feels good, more power to you— there’s nothing wrong with accomplishing when it comes from a place of inspiration or power. But if, like many of us, you’re struggling to do even the smaller tasks in life right now, I encourage you to reject this push for productivity and lean into the slowness that this time has created.

    If it’s tougher than usual to get ready for the day, practice noticing everything about what getting ready for the day entails: “Right now I’m combing my hair, now I’m feeding the dog, now I’m getting into the shower.”

    As you notice (and say) what you’re actually doing, allow yourself to just be doing that thing—not shaming yourself over the language you’re not learning or wondering why working from home isn’t as smooth as you thought it might be.

    Leaning into slowness, noticing and staying with every individual action taken, and giving yourself permission to be overwhelmed (and likely slower than usual) is a key to staying present with life exactly as it is right now.

    4. Be a time traveler

    During the Scotland trip, I wasn’t particularly grateful for my mom, because being with her felt so normal: after all, I’d never not lived in a world with her in it. Now, however, I’d be so grateful to wake up to her snoring or to hear her re-tell the same story about Buford the run-away cow.

    Because I’ve lost her, I realize how precious the time I had with my mom was—and the sobering but truest fact about life (in even the best of times) is that we will eventually lose everything.

    Everything will someday be rendered precious, because the nature of our lives is impermanence. Though I doubt any of us will miss the fear or heartbreak of this pandemic, we just might miss the extra time with our family, the unique ways people have been kind to each other, or the incredible global connection we’ve experienced by going through the same thing at the same time as every other human on the planet.

    Kind of like how we might be envious of our former selves that (mere months ago) were going to basketball games and brushing up against people in sweaty yoga classes, our future selves might someday miss these strange times, if only because we hunkered down and spent them with people who are no longer in our lives, or parenting children who are now grown and out of the house.

    ***

    Though the experiences are decidedly different, I see some parallels between the sudden death of my mother and the current moment in time.

    After my mom died, I kept trying to gather pieces of myself and fit them back together: I was waiting for the day that things would feel normal again. But my relationships, goals, and every thought going forward felt different…because I was.

    Similarly, when the world, our communities, and individual lives return to what one might call normal, these things likely won’t feel the same. Our world will now be different because we are.

    But rather than grasping at the familiar of yesterday or projecting into an imagined tomorrow—I hope you’ll join me in holding space for the mourning, destruction, and transformation that’s happening both collectively and within each one of us.

    Yes, things are difficult at present, but as the great Ram Dass said, let’s be here now.

    This—right now—is our life, and while we still have the choice, let’s decide each day how we’d like to live it.

  • Why I Now Complain Less and Appreciate More

    Why I Now Complain Less and Appreciate More

     “It is not happy people who are thankful. It is thankful people who are happy.” ~Unknown

    I used to be a complainer, a fault-finder, a grumbler. I would grumble a hundred times a day about mundane issues, be it the weather, the traffic, or my husband.

    I complained when my husband didn’t help me around the house, and grumbled when he helped. It took me some time to realize that it was not him or his lack of housekeeping skills that made me unhappy. I was unhappy because I was turning into an ungrateful person.

    I have some fond and not so fond memories of my childhood. When I was a kid, my parents force-fed me green vegetables and limited my television and playtime. They wanted me to study and do my homework, and made me go to sleep every night at 8:30 PM. But all I wanted was freedom, freedom from homework and freedom to do whatever I wanted.

    I was nine years old when I first expressed my ingratitude to my parents. One day, after school, instead of boarding the school bus that would take me home I boarded the one that took me to my friend’s house. I thought this would be the end to the horrible veggies and boring homework. But things didn’t go as planned.

    My friend’s father got in touch with my dad, who drove down to take me back home. As I nervously watched my dad step out of the car I noticed worry etched on his face. He gently put his protective hands around my shoulders and said, “Come, let’s go home.” We drove home in silence, and gradually guilt found its way into my heart.

    When we approached home, I peered through the windows of the car and spotted a tired, lean figure standing by the gate of the house, my mom. I got down from the car and tentatively took one step toward her. Gazing into her moist eyes I gingerly called out, “Mummy.”

    She took me in her arms and hugged me tightly, while crying into my school shirt. As my tiny hands held her I realized my mistake.

    Today, when I look back to that incident, I realize now that as a child I took for granted all that my parents did for me.

    In a world where girls are denied education, at times buried alive, where orphanages are filled with children abandoned by their parents, here were my parents who catered to all my needs and prepared me for the future. In this unfair world, I was blessed with parents who gave me a fair chance at life, to grow and to prosper.

    My parents indeed planted the first seeds of gratitude when I was still a kid. But it wasn’t until I attained motherhood that I truly understood the importance of showing gratitude.

    Like every first-time mother, I went through anxious moments looking after and raising my baby. With my hyperactive daughter, things just seemed like a never-ending battle, with crayon painted walls, carrot juice stains on the carpet, moisturizers and lipsticks tested on every piece of furniture, and toys scattered around.

    I longed for peace, I longed for rest, and I longed for a clean house. I complained and cribbed about how being a mother was the toughest job in the world.

    Until one day, I visited a friend whose six-month-old son was admitted in the hospital, as he was diagnosed with Muscle Dystrophy, a genetic disorder that affects all the muscles including the muscles of the heart.

    That tiny baby lay on a bed motionless, strapped to a heart monitor. It was heartbreaking to watch the grieving mother coax and beg her frail baby to wake up, to cry, to whine, to do something, anything, while he did nothing. He just lay there, motionless.

    As I stood there, watching helplessly, an image of my little devil—my daughter—scribbling on the walls flashed through my mind.

    What had I been complaining about? An active child, a healthy child? Isn’t this what I had prayed for when expecting her? Surely, there would be plenty of women out there in this world who would give anything for my sleepless nights and messy house.

    From that day on, whenever my daughter was unable to go to sleep even at two in the morning, I didn’t complain. In fact, as I held her and kissed her forehead, I was thankful knowing I have such a wonderful gift.

    It’s human nature to forget our blessings and concentrate on our problems, but when we complain, our mind plunges into negativity, and like a domino effect everyone around us gets impacted by it.

    Panasonic founder Konosuke Matsushita would often finalize a candidate selection by asking his famous concluding question. “Do you think you have been lucky in your life?”

    The purpose of this question, according to him, was to comprehend if the candidate was thankful for the people who helped him in his life. He believed that this attitude of gratitude in employees leads to a happy work environment, which in turn boosts company productivity.

    Most of us tend to connect happiness to major events, like a promotion or winning the lottery. But these events don’t happen often. Gratitude is what makes our life richer, more beautiful, and a lot happier as we start to enjoy the little things in life.

    We often take people in our life for granted, or get caught up in complaining and grumbling. It’s true, my husband can be lazy sometimes, my parents keep nagging me, my teenage daughters never listen to me, and I have some crazy friends, but you know what? My life is incomplete without all of them.

    Life is a celebration. When we love everything we have, we have everything we need. So, let us make this journey of life worthwhile and take that huge leap from grumbling to gratitude.

  • 7 Ways Running Helps Me Live My Best Life

    7 Ways Running Helps Me Live My Best Life

    “I don’t run to add days to my life, I run to add life to my days.” ~Ronald Rook

    Growing up, I was always a bit on the tubby side, or, as my mum would say, “stocky.”

    Old and grainy camcorder footage from the early nineties shows me at four years old, waddling sassily around the garden naked on a summer’s day. Watching the nostalgic home footage recently, I thought to myself, “Wow, I had a beer belly long before I began drinking beer.”

    Apart from a couple of years playing football in my teens, competitive sports and exercise were not a huge part of my life—unless we count the frequent visits to the Chinese buffets with friends, when things got competitive as we shovelled down plate after plate to see who could eat the most.

    Last year, however, after an inspiring conversation with a keen runner, my sedentary days were over.

    The man was in his forties and an ultra-runner—meaning he ran distances greater than a regular marathon (26.2 miles). I became curious as he told me about a recent 100-mile running event, and wondered to myself, why would you put yourself through that, by choice? What does one get out of this running malarkey?

    Having well and truly caught the running bug, I can now say I get it.

    It’s well known that running is beneficial to our health and fitness, but I get so much more from the experience. Here are seven ways running helps me live my best life.

    1. Through running, I take control from my mind.

    Wouldn’t you rather stay at home and watch Netflix?

    You’re not built for running!

    Who do you think you are, Forrest Gump?

    Ah, the mind.

    On days I normally run, I can guarantee thoughts like these will surface, luring me to stay in my comfort zone so they can try and shame me later on for not running.

    Don’t get me wrong, there are days where the kind thing to do is to cancel a run—if I’m hurting physically or it’s too hot—but that’s not usually why I encounter internal resistance before and while running.

    C’mon, that’s fair enough for today, my mind whispers.

    “No, we’re digging deeper and going further,” I reply.

    Our minds will always try to hold us back, but we don’t have to act on every thought. We can become more aware of when our mind is attempting to limit us, and, if we want to, dig deep and keep moving forward.

    2. Running reminds me that the hardest part of any worthy pursuit is just starting.

    Once I’m outside and running, the initial resistance disappears, and I just get on with it. I’ve never, after two minutes of running, turned around and headed home.

    This speaks to an interesting truth—so often in life, the hardest part of any worthy pursuit is just starting. If you want to write a book, the hardest part is sitting down to capture those first few words. If you need to initiate a difficult conversation, the hardest part is finding the courage to say, “Hey, we need to talk.”

    On days when my mind creates resistance and begins a battle, I gently remind myself the hardest part is putting my running shoes on and heading out the door. Once I’m through the door, I’ve won the battle—and I almost always enjoy myself.

    3. Running reminds me to keep my head up and keep moving forward.

    A few weeks ago while on a run, exhaustion suddenly hit me. My head dropped. My pace slowed, and my legs felt like they were stuffed full of lead. A feeling of dread slowly sunk through my body as I imagined the distance I was yet to cover.

    I knew, though, I was hitting “runner’s wall,” and remembered the Navy SEAL’s 40% rule—that even though I briefly felt exhausted, I’d only reached 40% of my potential.

    I took a deep breath before slowly raising my head up so my eyes were no longer looking at the ground. I was now looking straight ahead, my eyes fixed on where I wanted to go, the path ahead. Inside my head I repeated, “Left, right, left, right,” over and over again, commanding my feet. And then I ran.

    When life hits us hard, it’s normal for our heads to drop down, but we can’t let them stay down. Moving forward may seem impossible, but eventually there comes a day when we have to dig deep and find the courage to take a step forward, no matter how small.

    As Winston Churchill said, “When you’re going through hell, keep on going.”

    4. Running helps me appreciate my body.

    Sadly, the media pushes down our throats what a “perfect” body looks like, and most of us don’t have it. As a result, many people view exercise as a punishment. A punishment for being out of shape or for eating overeating the day before.

    Exercise of any form needn’t be a punishment. In fact, we can view it as a celebration of our body as it is.

    When I finish a run, I thank my body for a job well done. I’m fortunate enough to have good health and a functional body, a blessing not everyone has.

    A friend of mine suffers from a chronic health condition, and although his body is extremely limited compared to most, he’s chooses to live life being appreciative of what his body does enable him to do. For example, he can’t finish long hikes, but he’s grateful that he can walk at all—and that he has friends who’ll carry him the rest of the way when he has to stop.

    5. Running emphasizes the importance of rest and recovery.

    Since running, I’ve become kinder to myself and more accepting of my need to take time to rest and recover. Once home from a run, I normally do some light stretches before taking it easy for the rest of the day, because I’ve learned that I need to give my body a break or it will eventually break down.

    I used to believe rest and recovery made we weak and it was in someway honorable to keep myself busy all day, every day. I now believe there’s a time to push ourselves while in doing mode and a time for simply being, and both are equally important to our overall well-being.

    6. Running has taught me that what I consume makes a difference.

    Since starting to run, I’m now far more aware of what I’m consuming, both physically and mentally.

    I feel the difference when I’ve been eating well and am hydrated versus when I run on a belly full of junk food and dehydrated. What we put into our mouth really matters.

    I believe it also matters what we put into our heads—the types of media we consume. I once spent an entire forest run on high alert, looking over my shoulder ever second step. Why? Before leaving home, I’d read a local news item about a Puma that had escaped from a zoo 100 miles away. Although logically I knew it was highly unlikely I’d cross paths with this runaway Puma, it didn’t stop my mind from freaking out at every rustle in the bushes.

    On the hand, when I read or watch an inspiring story before leaving home, I notice a spring in my step and feel empowered as I run.

    If the media I consume affects my life (either positively or negatively) in the short-term, just imagine the affect is has in the long-term. What we consume matters.

    7. Running reminds me of what’s possible.

    Perhaps the biggest way running helps me to live my best life is through showing me what is possible. I can now run farther than I ever thought I could, way further than my doubtful inner critic would have predicted.

    I’ve gone from being someone who would rarely (and barely) run to someone who runs several times per week. Most of all, I’ve gone from being someone who hated even the thought of running to someone who looks forward to and, dare I say, loves, running. And if I can transform into a runner, just imagine what else I can do.

    Do I think running is for everyone? No.

    However, I do believe that everyone can benefit from my lessons. Don’t let your mind control you. If there’s something you want to do, just get started, even if you only take a tiny step. When things get tough, keep going. Appreciate what you can do instead of focusing on what you can’t. Take time to rest; it’s not lazy, it’s necessary. Be mindful of what you consume and how it affects you. And remember, you can do so much more than you think.

  • How Getting Hit by a Bus Taught Me to Stop Worrying and Start Living

    How Getting Hit by a Bus Taught Me to Stop Worrying and Start Living

    “Sometimes it takes a good fall to really know where you stand.” – Hayley Williams

    How often do you appreciate the pleasure of taking a deep breath? Have you stopped worrying about what the world can do to you, and instead focused on what you can do in the world? Do you actively appreciate your life, as a part of your daily routine?

    Odds are you do not. I know I certainly didn’t, until it was nearly taken from me.

    I’ve been riding bicycles around New York City since I was a child. While cycling in the city used to be considered something of an extreme sport, in the last couple of years the city built bike paths on many streets and avenues, making it safer.

    It was during this expansion that I was hit by a bus.

    In 2009 I would ride my bicycle to and from work every day, using bike lanes whenever possible.

    Nights were a different story. I avoided certain roads because the prevalence of bicyclists who would travel the wrong way without using any lights raised the spectre of a crash, and falling out of the bike lane and into traffic.

    When I feared Central Park West would be a dangerous way north, I would use Amsterdam Avenue instead.

    While the law says that cyclists must use bike lanes when they are marked, it is also the law that cyclists must be accorded eighteen inches of roadway on all roads in the state. Thus riding on roads without bike lanes is not illegal by any stretch of the imagination, only dangerous.

    I figured that, on balance, it was less dangerous than hitting an invisible cyclist coming straight at me out of the darkness.

    It was sunny at 4:30 pm on November 22, 2011. Sunset was an hour away, but I was worried that it would get dark during my commute, so I took Amsterdam home.

    The temperature was comfortable, and the traffic was not too heavy. I was riding my Bike Friday custom folding bicycle, past where I used to play billiards as a boy, past some high-end bars, and past a parked police cruiser. That’s where I was hit.

    A Peter Pan bus was headed to New England on Amsterdam Avenue. Like most private bus drivers, the driver was hurried.

    He was hustling to beat the evening rush. Getting stuck in traffic before the interstate would mean arriving late to his destination. Once on 10th/Amsterdam Avenue, he put the pedal down, weaving through traffic to get north as quickly as possible.

    When the bus undertook a car, weaving into the rightmost lane, the side of the bus struck my shoulder, then the left handlebar of my bicycle.

    I wobbled to the right, and the bike, its wheel turning ninety degrees as a result of the handlebars being struck, spun out from under me, sending me flying.

    As I catapulted through the air, my instincts took over. Years spent studying Japanese martial arts taught me how to take a break-fall, and to tuck my chin so my neck would not snap on impact.

    I did what I could.

    When I landed on my left side, I injured my spine in ways that would only reveal themselves shortly after the lawsuit was over. I tore the labrum in my left shoulder. I was, however, not dead.

    When I tucked my chin and turned my body away from the bus, I ensured that while the wheels of the bus ran over my backpack, they missed my head and spine, coming nowhere near my extremities.

    I can still recall the feeling and sound of the air whipping past my neck as the rear wheels of the bus passed within inches of my head, pulling my backpack under so hard that the shoulder straps tore completely.

    The bus driver just kept going.

    The police car immediately chased the bus as soon as I was hit, catching up to it several blocks later. When the cops returned, they were shocked that I was not dead, since they had seen this sort of thing before, and it “always” ended in death.

    After I staggered out of the roadway, I texted my wife, who collected me and took me to the hospital. I was in total shock, and my thoughts were a mess.

    At the hospital, I told the nurse at reception what happened. “How do you feel?” she asked.

    “Like I’ve been hit by a bus,” I said.

    It took a while to process what happened. There’s a reason they call the state you’re in after an accident “shock” after all. The night after the accident, I felt okay, and went to bed. The next morning, I was in so much pain, I couldn’t move.

    There was a lawsuit. There was physical therapy. It wasn’t fun. At the same time, I went through the accident, lawsuit, and recovery, I was questioning my choice of career, and there were massive layoffs at my company, of which I was eventually a statistic.

    Newly unemployed and physically damaged, I was forced to take stock of things. Was I happy? Should I keep chasing a career that made me miserable? How would I feel if I had to look down the barrel of a gun one more time?

    Looking Death In The Eye Is Transformative

    Coming face to face with death helped clarify things. Death puts life in high relief. You take stock of the elements of your life and see them objectively because you aren’t thinking about the experience of them so much as the existential question of “Is there a point to this?”

    Trust me, the question becomes easier to answer after a near-death experience.

    For a start, I knew I truly loved my wife and she loved me. Our relationship became stronger from enduring my injuries. I appreciate her even more with each passing day. She is one of the puzzle pieces that fits perfectly.

    After all, what are the odds of meeting one specific person, then dating them, then marrying them, in a city as big as New York, especially considering that she isn’t from the USA?

    I savor every day with her, because I know how unlikely our meeting was, and how it was nearly all undone under the wheels of the Peter Pan bus.

    How about my career, the one I thought defined me as a person? I realized how much I really hated my job—the one I’d recently lost.

    I started to explore other applications of my skills. I found not one, but several. I use this as a platform to elevate and better myself each day. I was immediately happier, and all of my long-term professional dreams came closer.

    Most of all, I learned to live deliberately.

    I make it a point to keep in touch with my parents regularly. When I am not working, I make sure to disengage so that I can devote my full attention toward my children.

    I spend more time appreciating the beauty of Mother Nature, even if it means just a quick stroll in the park with my family.

    And even though life keeps me busy and it’s harder to maintain friendships as an adult, I’ll try to check in with a few of my close friends to let them know that I appreciate them in my life.

    I also spend less time worrying about who I’m supposed to be and more time focusing on who I want to be.

    Growing up in a typical Asian family, my parents taught me that success in life means getting into high-paying professional careers. Jobs like accountants, doctors, lawyers, and engineers are the preferred ones. So, you can imagine how devastated they were when they discovered I became a graphic designer instead. At that point in life, I felt as if I’d let them down.

    Life hands us scripts all the time. The people around us make superficial assessments of who we are and tell us, in words or actions, who we can and cannot be. Sometimes they underestimate us because of how we look, or discount us because of how we sound.

    And most of the time, we take these scripts and use them as guides to our path, afraid of diverging from the set plots.

    We believe that we are expected to look a certain way, live a certain way, in order to be deemed as worthy by the society. But what happens when life throws us a curveball—like being hit by a bus and being let go from your job?

    Those are not part of the script. Without any guidance, we let ourselves believe that the script ends there.

    Allowing all the scenes in your script to come from the world is letting your life be up to a roll of the dice. The truth is, we are the authors of our script. It is up to us to write the script we want to follow, because no one else is going to.

    We may face a disaster because that’s part of the meta-plot of our scripts, but how we respond to it is up to us. We may not get to decide which cards we’re dealt, but we get to decide how we respond to each of the cards.

    In the face of disaster, we can either let that moment become the defining source of lifelong disability or grievance, or we can use it as motivation to realign our priorities with the things that make us happy.

    There’s this myth that one day the world will discover you while you’re going about your mundane life. This just doesn’t happen. The world isn’t going to discover you, it’s going to hit you with a bus. The world isn’t an author you want to put in charge of your life’s story.

    So where did my script lead? All the changes I’ve mentioned were adjustments made in a moment redirecting the vectors of my life, but they were only moments; turning points now years in the past. Most of the time I live with a single effect of the accident: I feel alive.

    Living isn’t just a state of being anymore, it is an active experience. Even when my body reminds me of the many ways it is dinged up, I’m reminded that I am alive, and I savor those feelings, because as bad as I feel some mornings, feeling anything at all is a pleasure, because it means I survived something horrifying, and get to laugh in the face of death.

    My life’s script now also involves less worrying. We usually worry about the things we cannot control, and how they will potentially affect us. Most of the time, the things we worry about don’t materialize, and if they do, they aren’t as bad as we think.

    Years ago, I worried so much about the possibility of being laid off by my company that it kept me awake with cold sweats on many nights. Unfortunately, my worry turned into a premonition. But I also realize that worrying didn’t prevent anything from happening, and in the end, getting laid off was for the best.

    So, why spend any life’s precious moments worrying?

    Life’s too short for that.

  • Love Them Today, Before Their Tomorrow’s Taken Away

    Love Them Today, Before Their Tomorrow’s Taken Away

    “Before someone’s tomorrow has been taken away, cherish those you love, appreciate them today.” ~Michelle C. Ustaszeski

    Last year, my grandfather passed away.

    He had gone to the hospital many times before. Sometimes he went for a minor sickness, sometimes for a severe condition. Unfortunately, the last time he went, we found out that he didn’t have much time left. He was diagnosed with last stage bladder cancer.

    It was a shock to our family. My grandfather had always been a survivor. He’d survived the war, the darkest moment of the country. We couldn’t imagine he would lose his life to something like this.

    I came home as soon as I could after hearing the news. And luckily, when I was home, he was conscious. He was a big man, but I remember seeing him in bed, looking small and fragile like a sick little cat under his too loose clothes. I was thankful for the chance to be with him for the last time, and happy he knew I was there.

    After that, I came to visit and check on him every day. On the last day I was home, I hugged him and told him to get well soon, and that I would come back to visit him when he got better.

    Before I even said it, I knew it would never happen. I made a promise that I knew I couldn’t keep.

    I returned to the city to work and a couple weeks later, I received the news that he had passed away.

    All my memories of him suddenly came flooding back. He was always there in my childhood. He watched me all day so that my mom could go to work, which meant he was basically a stand in parent.

    I remembered the time he gently wrapped a bandage around my head after I ran into a wall and my forehead started bleeding. And how he listened patiently to all my childhood problems, from complaints about a dress that was too old to my side of a fight with my sister. And how he often bought me snacks even though he didn’t have much money to spare.

    After I grew up, he was still there while I was studying and busy chasing success and promotions. Yet I only visited him a couple times a year, when I had free time.

    I was so used to his presence that I didn’t remember to cherish him while I had the chance.

    I remembered one time I came back to visit my old school and realized the tree I used to play under was still there, waiting for me to come back for almost twenty years. I felt like I’d treated my grandfather like that tree. I’d never thought much about how long he’d had to wait for me.

    I sobbed, tears running down my cheeks. I couldn’t breathe well. My head was heavy. That tree is now gone. Gone for good. My grandfather is no longer. Now every time I drive by his house, the gate will be locked, the door will be closed, and I’ll no longer see him sitting in his chair, drinking tea, and greeting me with a sparkle in his eyes.

    Same street, same house, but it will never be the same.

    I didn’t come back home for my grandfather’s funeral because I was pregnant, but many of his other grandchildren showed up. Many of them I hadn’t seen in years, even after hearing about his sickness. In fact, I’d forgotten about their existence. How could I remember? They were never there to talk to him, to be with him when he was conscious. Why did they even show up after he’d passed? What were they doing? Who were they trying to impress?

    But then it hit me.

    They were just like me. They’d treated him like an old tree whose shadow was always there for them to play under. And they only missed the tree when it was cut down and they were exposed to the sun.

    I can’t blame them. It makes sense. Life happens. We get busy. We need to work to pay the bills to buy the house to get the promotion. And we just forget. It’s not until we get burnt that we realize how much we needed that tree, and how much we wish we could feel its shade again.

    Maybe it’s time for all of us to slow down, look around, and make sure we spend time with the people who really matter to us.

    If you also need to get your priorities in check, like I did…

    Make plans to spend time with your loved ones.

    I’m sure you’re one of the busiest people in the world. We all are. Or at least that’s what we choose to believe. It’s tempting to spend all our time and energy trying to achieve our goals. When we achieve them, we think, then we’ll allow ourselves to take it easy and be with our loved ones.

    But what if when that time comes—if it ever comes at all—our loved ones are no longer there?

    Don’t wait till you get the time to prioritize the people you love. Make the time. Make a plan. It’s a choice. One you won’t regret.

    Put down your phone and stay present.

    How many times have you looked at your phone, read emails or the news, or scanned your notifications while talking to someone?

    Yes, you might be able to multitask. But did you really listen to the person in front of you?

    Put down your phone and look at your mom’s face when you talk to her. Do you notice the extra wrinkles and gray hair that weren’t there before?

    It hurts my heart every time I notice a difference in my mom’s face. It’s like standing still while watching her slowly slip away, knowing there is nothing I can do to stop it. We all have but a short time on this Earth. Don’t trick yourself into believing that there will always be a next time because someday, that conversation will be the last.

    After my grandfather died I swore to cherish every moment I have with my loved ones. I make eye contact; I listen to them and hold their hands. I hope all of these moments and memories will sustain me when it’s time for the final goodbye.

    Let them know how you feel.

    You won’t always feel love for the people you care about. Sometimes they’ll annoy you, or you’ll disagree. And that’s okay. No one, and no relationship, is perfect, and we’re all doing the best we can. The important thing is that you value them, even if your relationship has ups and downs, and let them know you care while you have the chance.

    Make sure you tell them how much you appreciate them. Send them random texts to tell them you love them. Bring them flowers and watch their eyes light up. These are the memories we’ll remember when we’re about to leave this world. We won’t think about the job, the house, or the promotions, but the little moments we shared with the people who made us feel loved.

    I wish I could still do these things for my grandfather. And I wish I did them more often when I had the chance. But I didn’t. All I can do now is take the lesson with me and show up fully for the people who are still here.

    Make the most of your time with your loved ones, because you never know when that time will run out.

  • How Gratitude Journaling Can Boost Your Mood and Change Your Life

    How Gratitude Journaling Can Boost Your Mood and Change Your Life

    “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.” ~Melody Beattie

    A few years ago I had an ulcer and I would get dizzy after almost every meal. There was a point when I was afraid to eat. I lost twenty pounds when I didn’t need to lose weight.

    I wasn’t sleeping well.

    I was a complete wreck inside.

    It took me two and half years to get my stomach back on track. I tried one thing at a time until I found what worked well for me. I can no longer drink coffee or eat tomatoes or other acidic foods. And man, did I did love a good cup of coffee to help get my morning going.

    Still, I’m actually grateful for my ulcer. It was one of the best illnesses to ever happen to me because it helped me become a healthier person.

    I was only able to overcome it because of my gratitude journal. Each day, I thanked the foods that didn’t cause me to feel dizzy. As I journaled more and more about these foods, I began to see patterns, which helped me ascertain which foods to eliminate.

    I put my energy into appreciating the foods that helped me feel good instead of complaining about the foods that made me feel sick to my stomach. And that helped me both heal and keep a positive attitude.

    This is why I suggest everyone keeps a gratitude journal. It helps you see things that you missed before. It encourages you to focus your attention on things that are making your life better.

    The best part is gratitude not only helps you live longer because it helps reduce stress, it also helps you build stronger relationships because you are more likely to share your appreciation with others. And when you regularly practice gratitude, you’re generally more empathetic and less prone to envy—great for your mental health and your relationships.

    The Power of Gratitude Journaling

    It took me some time to turn gratitude journaling into a daily habit. When I first started, I would miss days at a time. It took almost a year to get a consistent habit going. Once I made gratitude a regular practice, it helped keep me sane since I was focusing on the things I had in life instead of wanting a situation to be different. This was a huge mindset shift for me.

    As I got busier I started getting away from my journal again. Then, as my father was passing, I leaned back into it, but I wanted to go a little deeper. I started writing stories in my gratitude journal, which helped me uncover details I hadn’t really processed before.

    I noticed him getting grumpier as he got older. My journal helped me see that I didn’t want myself to fall into the same bad habits. And I didn’t have to. I had a path to build a better attitude.

    I quickly noticed my new attitude changed how people responded to me. For example, coworkers started gravitating toward me because I was letting them know that I appreciated them. Who knew that a little appreciation would help you build friendships?

    I also noticed that the migraines that used to start at the base of my neck weren’t as intense. Gratitude was not only improving my attitude and my relationships, but also my health.

    I felt like I’d stumbled upon a magic formula for life. I know that people have been talking about gratitude for thousands of years, but it felt so refreshing to me.

    I did some research on gratitude and found some amazing studies.

    In one book, Why We Do What We Do, researcher Edward Deci explains that when someone has six positive interactions to one negative, they are 31% more productive.

    When you have positive thoughts and interactions, it’s easier to focus on what matters. That may be spending time with your family, traveling, or writing. Positive interactions free you up to have the energy to do what matters to you.

    Start Small

    The intense focus of finding some small bit of gratitude in every situation really changed me.

    When I was stuck in traffic, I thought about how I could appreciate the situation and write about it. When I was stuck in another meeting, I thought about how lucky I was to be in the situation and asked myself, “What is one important lesson that I can take away from this meeting?”

    Sometimes the lesson was to breathe into my belly more. Other times it was learning from a really smart coworker who handled the meeting very well, kept us all on track, and helped us get a lot accomplished.

    Because I started small, I planted seeds to be able to go deeper into gratitude.

    If you too would like to create more positive feelings and interactions, I highly recommend starting a gratitude journal. And it can actually be really simple.

    Each day this upcoming month, just write a few things you are grateful for and why, for example:

    • I’m grateful for my coworker because she is always willing to listen and help.
    • I’m grateful for my ability to dance in my car seat when I’m stuck at a traffic light, because it allows me to release my stress.
    • I’m grateful for my pets because they make me feel loved and needed.

    The key component here is your why. This is important because it helps you actually feel grateful, as opposed to just listing things you think you should appreciate. Soon you’ll likely start to feel a lot better about your work, your relationships, and even yourself. And before you know it, you’ll probably notice an improvement in your attitude—and major changes in your life.

  • 50 People Share What They’re Grateful to Do Every Day

    50 People Share What They’re Grateful to Do Every Day

    At night, when you think about how you spent your day, how often do you focus on all the things you had to do?

    I worked. I ran errands. I went to the gym. I made dinner.

    And when you tell someone about this kind of day, how often do you do it with a less-than-enthused tone?

    I suspect this is the norm for many of us, at least during the workweek.

    Commitments, to work and family, can engulf our lives and seem like chores, not choices and chances.

    I distinctly remember one day, years ago, when my day felt particularly packed, stopping to remind myself that I had chosen the schedule I was keeping.

    I had chosen to get up early to write, to accept the job that supported me, to go to yoga in the evening, and to do laundry and other household tasks after that.

    And I was fortunate to have had these choices to make.

    These weren’t all things I had to do; these were things I got to do.

    I got to devote time to my passion in the hours before my paid work, creating possibilities for my future.

    I got to work a job that provided both pay and benefits, enabling me to take care of my needs, even if it wasn’t my dream career.

    I got to stretch my healthy body and create mental stillness.

    And I got to live in a comfortable apartment, filled with furniture and clothes I got to buy with money I got to earn.

    And in between all these things I had consented to do were lots of other beautiful little things I got to do.

    I got to wake up to sunlight coming through my window. I got to walk by interesting people, trees, and buildings on my way to work. I got to eat delicious food from various restaurants at lunch. And I got to use my hands when typing on my computer—hands I could have been born without, or could have lost to some type of injury or tragedy, but hadn’t.

    I get to do a lot of things worth appreciating every day. We all do.

    We all get to do things that challenge us, fulfill us, excite us, and energize us. We get to live, love, laugh, and explore in far too many ways too count.

    Since I’ve long been inspired by this idea of focusing on what we get to do, I decided to include this as one of the prompts in my newly released gratitude journal.

    I shared this prompt on Facebook this past Sunday to see how other people would respond. Over 1,500 people chimed in, creating a monumental list of blessings, many of which we all share but could easily take for granted.

    Since I was inspired and touched by the list, I decided to share a selection of those responses here.

    I Appreciate That Every Day I Get To…

    Health

    1. Shelley White: Breathe. I received donor lungs nine years ago after my own lungs failed. I have Cystic Fibrosis. Just being able to wake every day knowing I can spend another day with my family is what makes me grateful to be alive. I appreciate life.

    2. Kristi VanTassel McHugh: Wake up. I had open-heart surgery nearly two years ago, to replace a faulty aortic valve and repair an aortic aneurysm. When I was first diagnosed, I was told, “If it’s not fixed soon (the aneurysm) it will burst and you will die.” That was two days before Christmas, and I waited just over six months for my surgery. I am thankful to still be here, every day.

    3. GusandMaggie Nosce: Be alive. I was born a congenital heart patient (blue baby) and was advised I would need a heart transplant by the time I was four years old. By the grace of God, I have never needed one, even though the open-heart surgery I received when I was days old is no longer in practice and is no longer advised to perform.

    4.Manal Khatib: I appreciate that I can walk after a serious car accident eight months ago. Every day I had to relearn how to walk. This journey has made me appreciate my body and treat it with kindness.

    5. Laina Amarantinis: Walk and stand. After three spine surgeries I am finally able to walk and stand more and more as the healing progresses. I am very thankful.

    6. Mary Beth Hudson: Spend time with my family. I beat my battle with cancer; others in my family were not so lucky.

    7. Linda Otto: Move my body. I can walk, run, lift, bend, etc., all with ease. This is not possible for many people. It can be taken away in an instant or gradually as we age. Your health, eyesight, hearing are never appreciated enough.

    Friends and Family

     8. Anna Hunt: Spend time with my daughter. Soon she will be off to college and I won’t have her close. Hearing her laughter, knowing she’s in the next room, fills my heart with warmth. I appreciate that every day I get to see her.

    9. Amy Albinger: Be with my family. Be with my parents, my husband, my sister, and niece. They are the reason I live today. They are my reason to get through each struggle. They are my definition of love.

    10. Riddhi Solanki: I appreciate that I get calls from my parents and friends, as my current job isn’t in my hometown. They call me and talk to me so I don’t feel more alone.

    11. Niquita LeValdo: I wake up to my child. He was born with a heart condition and needed surgery at two months old. The thought that he may not have been alive today gives me a new perspective and helps me appreciate every moment. Love your children, praise them, cherish them.

    12. Lillivette Colón:‪ Keep my baby in my tummy one more day. Every day is victory.

    ‪13. Tezra Blake:‪ I appreciate every day I get to see and hear both my sons growing into awesome men, and that they aren’t ashamed to say I love you mom and check on me and ask how I am doing. Despite their age they still want my opinion on things.

    ‪14. Laurel Hausafus:‪ Have the memories of my sweetheart and husband in Heaven .

    15. Cheryle Midgett: Spend another day with my ninety-four-year-old mom.

    16. Anika Bruce:‪ Every day I get to hug my family. I love hugs, they’re life changing.

    17. Nicole Werner-Sayre:‪ Stay at home to raise the tiny little human I created and help her grow up into a person I’ll be proud to add to the world.

    18. Laurie Clemons: Give a hug and say I love you. We all need to hear it more.

    19. Dawn Creason: I get to read and cuddle with the most precious little girl that I never thought I would have. I get to hear her giggle and I get to play with her.

    20. Fiona James: Wake up happy and healthy with my wonderful family. Too many people don’t have that luxury.

    Needs and Comforts

    21. Elizabeth Sherriff: Have a roof over my head, fresh water, food, and a family around me.

    22. Kathy Kellermann: Have a warm shower and a bed to climb into (especially in the middle of winter).

    ‪23. Jessica Grandelli‪: Eat food that nourishes and sustains my life. It is a privilege to live in a place with bountiful food.

    24. Jacinta Harrington: Enjoy a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper.

    25. Caroline Driver: Eat whatever I want and drink water straight out of the tap.

    26. Marsha Frakes Waggoner: Walk outdoors in the grass with my dog and see trees.

    27. Heather Demick: Drink in the world through my eyes.

    28. Yvonne Hernandez: Have a place I call home.

    29. Alice Louise Pocock: Listen with my ears, see with my eyes, and love with all my heart.

    ‪30. Xuandai Hoang‪: Sit in front of my candle and relax.

    31. Enchari Rivadeneira: Dishes. It means I have food, a kitchen, a family to share with, and I did it. I made through another day, whatever happened. It’s a beautiful thing, dishes.

    32. Chloe Cunningham Sarno: Finish all the housework all in the same day. Ah, clean house!!

    33. Tammy Pillsbury: Lay my head down knowing I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a job that rewards me, a husband that loves me, friends and family whom I love, nature outside my door.

    34. Michael Bell: Read. There is no aspect of life that I have derived more benefit and pleasure from, and I couldn’t imagine my life without it.

    35. Danielle Yingling-Lowrey: Be with my babies, take care of my flowers, cook, drink coffee, be a friend, be a neighbor, be mama, be a daughter, be a wife, drive my car, take care of my house, giggle, laugh, read, smile at others…. so many things!

    36. Nicola Wood: Wake up and just be me and appreciate how blessed I truly am!

    37. Steve Kenney: Not feel the pain of starving, the pain of extreme thirst. Having a roof over my head, and AC. Having a few people who really care about me for me, not what I can do or give them. Not suffering from bad health. That’s it. Everything else is inconsequential.

    Possibilities

    38. Gena Pegg: I appreciate that every day I get another chance to do the right thing.

    39. Bani San: I appreciate that every day I get to wake up in freedom and pursue whatever life I dream of.

    40. Jayne Duncan Stites: I appreciate that every day I get to begin again anew!

    41. Jim Zei: Have another opportunity to make things right—whatever right is.

    42.Lechenda Crichton: Have one more chance to be better than I was yesterday.

    43. Sherelle Myers: Use my body and working limbs for whatever I choose!

    44. Angela Charlwood-Derbyshire:‪ Practice making better choices.

    45. Linda May Knowles: To learn from the mistakes I made the day before.

    46. Wizz Tomo: I appreciate that every day I get to learn new things.

    47. Ashley Glenn: To be alive and experience whatever the new day presents.

    48. Amy Brock: Breathe and do normal activities of daily living. There was a time that I couldn’t do such a great job of either.

    ‪49. Herb Daum‪: I appreciate that every day I get to make the world a kinder place.

    50. Melissa Milligan: Be here. Not everyone made it through the night. Be grateful you’re still here.

    I appreciate that every day I get to…

    How would you finish this sentence?

    *This post was originally published in 2017. I decided to republish it again today for those who missed it because it’s fitting for the season!

  • What It Means to Live Life with Open Palms and How This Sets Us Free

    What It Means to Live Life with Open Palms and How This Sets Us Free

    “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or possessions—we cannot be free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Roughly one year ago, I was having the time of my life.

    Everything seemed to be going well. My stress levels were at an all-time low. I was enjoying myself in a new city. Work was engaging. My meditations were deep and fulfilling.

    And when I looked back on things one year later, I was kind of, well, frustrated.

    Because things haven’t been going that smoothly lately. Don’t get me wrong; they haven’t been terrible. I’m in a loving relationship, and I’ve achieved a couple of significant milestones this year, but some aspects of life have been challenging.

    A couple of months ago I was talking to a meditation teacher who I occasionally consult when I’m having issues with my practice. I was honest about my situation, and my frustration with it.

    So I asked her what I was genuinely thinking; why doesn’t it feel like things are as good as they were twelve months ago?

    And what she told me stunned me. I mean, it really left me thinking.

    “You need to start living life with open palms. You tried to grasp onto the good times you had, and the experience has gone. But any challenges you have now will also go, you just need to hold onto them softly, with open palms.”

    The metaphor was so poignant. It made complete sense. I could feel myself grasping onto the idea of the old scenario and making dozens of assumptions about the new one.

    And those words stuck with me. They truly resonated. In fact, echoed might be a better description, because since then, whenever I’ve started to stress and hold onto my problems too tightly, the image of two open palms would arise and drift around the back of my mind, calling me to pay attention to it.

    There’s a reason why this metaphor is so accurate—the left cerebral hemisphere, which we use for focused attention, is also responsible for the grabbing motion our hand makes. The right hemisphere on the other hand (pun absolutely intended) is used for both open-minded thinking and open exploratory motions. So when someone tells you to hold on or to let go, they’re telling you what to do with your mind, not just your hands.

    So over the last few weeks, I’ve tried to reflect on what this means from a practical perspective, and while teachings like this take years to really digest, I’ve come up with a few ways in which you can start to live life with open palms, right now.

    Appreciate things momentarily.

    At first, I didn’t really understand why this was important. To only appreciate things for a split second seemed to be to under-appreciate or even neglect them. But I soon realized that when I was trying too hard to enjoy something, I ended up quickly telling myself a story about how good it was—and soon enough I wasn’t actually experiencing the object anymore, I was enjoying the idea of it.

    By making a conscious attempt to appreciate things momentarily, I’ve been able to achieve two things. Firstly, I get used to short-term experiences so when pleasure leaves, it’s okay because I know something else will come soon. And secondly, I’m able to focus on the direct experience and not get lost in my judgments about it.

    Remind myself about the transience of things.

    This is relevant to letting the momentary experiences go.

    Whenever I see a pleasure arise, whether it’s a nicely cooked meal, a Netflix show, a hot shower, or just sitting down after a long day, I try to remind myself that it will soon pass and something else will replace is.

    When I’m experiencing less pleasurable states, like physical discomfort, boredom, tiredness, or even pain, I similarly try to watch it come and watch it go, not getting too attached either way.

    Identify with my experience over my narrative.

    Though relatively simple, this idea is incredibly profound.

    My worry over whether or not I was better off than twelve months prior was largely rooted in the story I was telling myself. The story, once I had told it enough times, quickly became my experience.

    If however, I had just been focusing on the sensations I was having in each moment, there would have been no ruminating on the past, and a lot of the problems I was creating for myself simply would’ve ceased to exist.

    Don’t shy away from pleasure.

    One of the ways we protect ourselves from subtle feelings such as a fear of loss or feelings of not being worthy is by not allowing ourselves to fully appreciate positive experiences when we have them. It takes a certain kind of vulnerability to give ourselves over to pleasure, and oftentimes there is an unconscious shield between us and our experience that may manifest itself in slight muscular tension or distracting thoughts.

    I’ve made a conscious effort to focus on getting the most out of joyful moments when they come up and not holding back from completely enjoying them.

    Question my relationship to time.

    A lot of the suffering that comes from our experience arises because we can’t help but compare it to another moment in time. In my own case, it was because I was arbitrarily using the marker of a year to make judgments about how I should’ve been feeling.

    I felt that this year should be as good as or better than last year. Not only is it pointless to make the comparison, but it’s impossible to do so accurately. When we’re told to be present and not focus too heavily on the past or the future, it’s not only practical advice, it’s rational advice; our ideas about time are incredibly skewed and often dictated in large part by our emotional state in that moment.

    The ways by which I’ve been trying to live life with open palms are nothing groundbreaking. They’re tried and tested ideas that most of us have already had some exposure to. What is difficult, however, is our ability to remember these in any given moment, when they should be most useful.

    We can do this by anchoring ourselves to the ideas, whether through a mantra, a memorable metaphor, or simply just repeated exposure, as you’re doing right now reading this article.

    How have you tried to live life with open palms? Let us know in the comments. We’d love to hear from you!

  • A Simple Practice to Help You Appreciate How Wonderful You Are

    A Simple Practice to Help You Appreciate How Wonderful You Are

    “Stop criticizing yourself for everything you aren’t and start appreciating yourself for everything you are.” ~Unknown

    Are you your own best friend, your own worst critic, or somewhere in between? Do you tend to focus on what you see as your flaws, mistakes, and imperfections, comparing yourself to others you think are better than you? Sometimes, do you even wish you were someone else?

    It’s easy to get trapped in that way of thinking, especially in today’s consumer culture. From magazine ads to TV commercials, we are trained to compare ourselves to others and are subtly told we are not enough—not attractive enough, smart enough, popular enough, etc.

    While I try to practice mindfulness and not fall into this trap, living in this culture, I am not immune to that way of thinking. I was reminded of this just the other day, when I met a young couple who came to stay in a suite my husband and I rent out in our house.

    Having been doing housework and, not realizing the time, I opened the door with no make-up, in faded jeans, an old tee shirt, and sneakers. On the other side of the doorway, the young woman stood with perfectly applied make-up, perfectly styled hair, a cute dress, and heels, looking like she had just left a fashion magazine shoot.

    Meanwhile, the young man stared at me with a blank expression, which I took to mean he did not like me. I felt intimidated and inferior.

    A few days later, my husband saw the couple and had a short conversation with them. In it, he later told me, they actually raved about me!

    They said they were deeply impressed with a calm, “Zen” quality they sensed I had and instantly felt comfortable and relaxed around me. Considering what I had thought of the encounter, I was astonished to hear that. This taught me an important lesson.

    While we might worry about what we see as one of our flaws, others might not even notice it and instead be dazzled by one of our virtues.

    If others can see us in this positive light, so can we. But how?

    After studying several personal growth books, articles, and online classes, I gathered some key points about self-appreciation and wove them into a powerful practice. It helped me tremendously and I share it here in hopes it will do the same for you.

    Through it, you might experience for the first time in your whole life a real sense of self-appreciation and self-love. It’s something you can do any time you feel self-doubt or self-judgement or inferiority. It can help you relax into the knowingness that you are a unique, wonderful being.

    Embracing Yourself Practice

    Sadly, we often overlook the miracle that’s closest to us. It’s available to us from the moment we’re born to the moment we die. It’s ourselves.

    This practice is designed to help you connect with your own miraculous nature and appreciate how wonderful you really are.

    1. Centering yourself

    To get the most from this experience, feel free to turn off distractions like the TV, the ringer on your phone, and any kind of message alerts. Put your mental to-do list aside, just for now. It will still be there after this experience.

    Create some quiet, uninterrupted time to step back and nourish yourself. Give yourself permission to pause and receive the gift of this time. Make yourself comfortable, either sitting or laying down, preferably laying down.

    Gather your thoughts and energy from all the different directions they’ve been going. Bring them in and let them rest for these few moments, while you turn your attention to being here now.

    Take one slow, calming breath and release it. Take another deep breath and release it.

    2. Appreciating your body

    When you’re ready, rest your hands over your heart. Can you feel your heart beating?

    Breathing in, feel your lungs expand with air. Breathing out, feel your lungs relax. Again, feel them expanding in and relaxing out.

    Leave your hands over your heart or wrap them around your torso in a hug. Breathing in, feel your lungs expand. Breathing out, feel your lungs relax.

    Breathing normally, think about the amazing processes happening in your body right now, this very moment—the blood being circulated, the oxygen being exchanged, the cells absorbing nutrients, the nerves and neurons allowing you to hear the sounds around you.

    Feel the sensation of sitting or lying down where you are.

    Reflect on how a thought sends an impulse from your brain to your spinal cord, to your nerves, to your muscles, allowing you to move. Feel appreciation for your body for allowing you to experience life in this way.

    3. Appreciating your essence

    Now, reflect on your uniqueness. Of the billions of people on this planet, there is only one you.

    Think about the spark of life that animates your body, your essence that makes you, you. You might think of it as your personality or your spirit.

    Can you sense it? Do you feel or see anything related to it? Feel awe and appreciation for it.

    Think of the special qualities that make you a unique individual.

    Think of one quality you are grateful for about yourself. Maybe that quality is the fact that you are trying your best or something else. Whatever quality comes to mind, appreciate that about yourself.

    Feel grateful for another thing about yourself, maybe your intelligence or something else. Then feel grateful for another thing about yourself, maybe your kind heart or something else.

    Reflect on this idea: Life has good reason for expressing itself through you.

    4. Sending yourself love

    Feel the warmth of your hands on your heart or your torso. Feel appreciation for the unique individual you are.

    Think to yourself or say out loud, “I love myself.” Pause.

    Think or say again, “I love myself.” Pause.

    Think or say again, “I love myself.” Notice how that feels. Let that love sink in.

    Add anything else positive you’d like to say to yourself. What do you need to hear right now?

    Appreciate yourself for doing this practice. Rest your mind, taking a few more deep breaths. Look out and around you from this place of connection with yourself.

    Feel free to do this practice as often as you like, maybe a few times a week before getting up in the morning or before going to sleep at night—any time you’d like to feel a greater appreciation for yourself, any time you’d like to remind yourself that you are a miracle…because you are!

  • Why We May Have Already Won the Lottery of Life

    Why We May Have Already Won the Lottery of Life

    “Be thankful for what you have, you’ll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don’t have, you will never, ever have enough.” ~Oprah Winfrey

    Occasionally, I experience moments of what I can only describe as “pure bliss.”

    It’s like a cool wave of peace washes over me, cleansing me momentarily of my worries, stress, and issues. Last week, I had such an experience.

    You may be curious, what was happening for me to experience such a state?

    The truth may come as a surprise.

    Because my outer reality was, well, rather underwhelming.

    I was walking home carrying the weekly shopping, having visited the supermarket.

    Not quite the setting for ”pure bliss” one may imagine.

    Perhaps you imagined me sat crossed legged, draped in silk robes, deep in meditation atop a mountain.

    Or, perhaps, gazing up at the glistening galaxy on a clear night.

    Nope, just a chump walking home with the shopping.

    As the late spring sun shone down on me, I smiled and said aloud, ”Man, I’m lucky.”

    Although externally, all was hum-ho and there was nothing out of the ordinary, internally, thoughts were flowing, like serene streams, forming a deep sea of appreciation in my mind. 

    I appreciated the lush green forest I could see in the distance.

    I appreciated the fact that I was walking.

    I appreciated that I had food.

    I appreciated that I had a home to return to.

    I appreciated being alive and experiencing it all.

    As I reflect on this experience, I’m curious: Why is it that such moments are rare?

    What stops me (and others) from tapping into this state of bliss more often?

    My answer, my truth is this: the disease of more.

    We spend so much of our time focusing on what is lacking in our lives. We focus on being, doing, and having more. When we focus on more, we become blind to all we are already. All we can do. All we have in our lives, right now.

    Like the proverbial donkey chasing a carrot on a stick, our focus on what is out of reach blinds us from all else surrounding us.

    What if, in many ways, we’ve already won the lottery of life?

    And what if the path to bliss was appreciating the carrots we already have rather than chasing more?

    I admit it can be challenging to appreciate the little things when you’re dealing with trauma, tragedy, or hardship. But I suspect that most of us lose sight of these gifts simply because we’re focusing on everything we want but don’t have.

    To deepen the appreciation I felt recently, I’ve researched each of the things I celebrated on this day. I hope by sharing my experience, I may help others to see that they, too, may have already won the lottery of life.

    1. I appreciate my senses.

    My apartment backs on to some forest and, although I see it every day, on the walk home this day its beauty captivated me. The different shades of the green trees and the forest’s sheer size as it towers over the houses in the village—wow, it was spectacular.

    I realize now how often I take my eyesight for granted. According to a 2010 data collection, it’s estimated that 39 million people worldwide are blind and 246 million have low vision.

    We have five traditional senses—sound, sight, touch, smell, and taste—but did you know we have fifteen other senses? These include a sense of balance, sense of temperature, and a sense of time. And they’re all worth appreciating.

    2. I appreciate my body.

    A wise friend of mine once told me ”If you want to feel more appreciative instantly, change your ‘I have to’ statements to ‘I get to’.” The first time I made this subtle change, it was profound.

    Late last year, I was feeling grumpy about having to walk across town to meet with a client. Remembering my friend’s advice, I changed the story in my head from ”Ergh, I have to walk across town” to ”I get to walk across town.”

    The sudden appreciation I felt for my legs made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Since then, I no longer complain about having to walk places. It’s a gift to have a functioning body, a gift many people sadly don’t have.

    3. I appreciate that I have food to eat.

    Nearly half of the world’s population—more than three billion people—live on less than $2.50 a day. More than 1.3 billion live in extreme poverty—less than $1.25 a day.

    I didn’t mind carrying the heavy shopping bags home. I’ll be honest, there are times when I’ve complained. What a first world problem! I realized what a luxury it is to have a supermarket in walking distance where food is so readily available, and to have the money to purchase it.

    4. I appreciate having a place to live.

    The last time a global survey was attempted, by the United Nations in 2005, an estimated 100 million people were homeless worldwide. As many as 1.6 billion people lacked adequate housing (Habitat, 2015).

    When I read this statistic, my mind was blown. Imagining one million people is difficult enough, let alone 100 million. Many of us dream of a bigger house. The reality is, to many, the place we live in currently would be considered a palace.

    5. I appreciate being alive.

    As I returned home from shopping on this day, I felt an appreciation for life itself.

    Scientists estimate the probability of any of us being born at about one in 400 trillion.

    Think about that number for a moment. Let it sink in.

    For you to be here, right now, reading this, a ridiculous number of elements had to line up perfectly. That your parents, grandparents, and great grandparents met at the exact time they did is just the tip of the iceberg.

    The fact is, you are here right now. Your eyes have enabled you to read this. Meanwhile, your autonomic nervous system has been regulating your bodily functions, including your breathing and heartbeat, all without your conscious thought.

    There’s no limit to what we can appreciate if we’re paying attention. These are just a few of the things I celebrated recently. I appreciate having the opportunity to share them.

  • Expect Nothing and Appreciate Everything

    Expect Nothing and Appreciate Everything

  • Life Is in the Little Things: Finding the Extra in the Ordinary

    Life Is in the Little Things: Finding the Extra in the Ordinary

    “The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra.“ ~Jimmy Johnson

    “Write about what we did today,” my daughter said. She knows I often write once she is asleep.

    Dully I thought, “What we did today wasn’t that exciting.” Yet, for her, it obviously was.

    She gets lost in her experiences, deeply entrenched in the realms of her imagination that continue to weave each experience she is having.

    From my perspective, I took the kids and their friends to a nature reserve so they could get muddy and play. I needed them outside, away from the house where cabin fever sets in quickly and the mess builds up even more quickly along with my stress levels.

    Instead, we had a nice walk, first to see a waterfall, then for them to play in a stream and slide in the mud. After that, we had a picnic and I watched them all get lost in game after game led by their imaginations.

    When we got home my daughter set about making a Lego creation; there is a national competition going on and she wants to enter. She created a platform with a throne for the queen to sit upon after she climbs the magical rainbow-colored staircase. She had been reflecting upon that staircase the night before long after she should have been asleep.

    To the side of the queen was her courtier, and they overlooked a courtyard where many of her subjects had gathered so they could have a conversation. The courtyard was filled with beautiful flowers and another large plant that stands in the corner.

    The nuances of this creation I am sure to have missed, but I glimpsed beyond the plastic bricks that my mind wanted to adjust here and there, resisting the urge to ‘fix’ them. It was a thing of beauty.

    As is her habit every day, she also drew several pictures, each with its own story, ever evolving with lots of princesses and fairies. Then there was the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory audio book that she finished listening to, and the story of the Unicorn Riders we read at bedtime, each with their own stories and life lessons to untangle and reflect on.

    Not to speak, of course, of the majestic bun she has insisted upon having in her hair these holidays, with four braids that I carefully reproduce every few weeks (after a trip to Fiji last year). My hair dressing skills seem to have unwittingly evolved in all these requests.

    For me, I was just getting through another day of the school holidays. For her, though, she was a princess dreamily going about her day.

    After the kids were asleep, I pulled out the journal I keep to record all the things to be grateful for, or that were uplifting. Here is the sad effort I wrote:

    “The sun shining through the leaves at the reserve warmed my soul.” That was it, other than noting with thanks that my partner had gone to work all day long to provide us with money.

    Yet when I’ve sat down to fill my cup with a little writing, another voice speaks from within. One that sees much more in the day than I obviously had at first glance; it sees the ‘extra’ in the ordinary.

    When my daughter said to me a few days ago “It seems like I’ll have more fun when I’m young than when I’m old, Mum,” I understood why she thought that, but it also made me a bit sad.

    I lamely told her adults experience fun in a different way, then I realized I was just kidding myself. While that in itself is true, I knew there was no kidding the kids; they know when you are having fun or not.

    It’s time for an attitude shift. Sure, when I took the kids to the pools the other day, I did it to get it over with, since they have been nagging me for months to go. It’s an indoor pool, noisy, busy, and it stinks of chlorine. When I was a kid, I would have loved it too. Even as an adult, if I had peace to swim in the large pool it could be enjoyable.

    But being responsible for the lives of two little kids who are not yet able to swim properly yet go hurtling into the depths when the wave machine comes on, and in separate directions, it’s not so relaxing.

    Today, however, was more relaxing. No chlorine smell, only the smell of freshly cut grass. No loud echoing background noise, just the sound of kids laughing and playing.

    Come to think of it, we passed a really tall tree with fruits scattered all over the ground underneath; they looked like lemons. Except this tree was about twenty meters tall, so it was a bit of a mystery to me, and it was quite nice just to notice it and wonder what it was.

    It was also quite lovely to see the various dogs going past with their owners, clearly loving being out running around just as much as the kids were.

    After our picnic I even joined in the fun by doing a pretend tap dance while all the kids sat on a bench watching and giggling.

    When we got back to the house, the kids had all enjoyed their time in the fresh air and sat quietly drawing while I was able to hose down the clothes caked in mud. I have to admit to some satisfaction in seeing the colors of those clothes emerge again from the mud-brown-grey they had turned.

    I enjoyed listening to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as much as the kids did, and it was interesting to connect the dots on a recurring dream I used to have, any time my life got a bit out of control, about the lift that went sideward and upside down.

    And when I came to read them their bedtime story, the Unicorn Riders pulled me in to their mythical world and left me on a cliffhanger as it was time to turn out the lights.

    Now, here I am, sitting contentedly tapping away on the keyboard. My cat is curled up next to me purring away. I am now reflecting on what a joy it is to have these kids that I waited for so long to come.

    Even though they drive me nuts at times, and life can be pretty intense, it is worth it to glimpse life through their lenses.

    I’ve also just realized that my long awaited new pillow arrived today, contoured to cater for exactly the way I sleep; this is not just great news, it is sheer bliss. How could I have left this and all these other snippets out my journal?

    All these years spent longing for things, recording my dreams, and yet once they are here somewhere in my psyche they turn to hum drum, stressful even. “This is what it is to be human,” I remind myself. “To always want something more.”

    It’s the age-old paradox of noticing what about my experiences I would like to change, while still appreciating in the moment the things that I do have. Instead, I seem to have slunk down into just taking for granted what I am experiencing and getting frustrated that what I want isn’t here yet.

    This is dumb, I know. It would be healthier to celebrate the sheer miracle that this life I am leading has been entirely of my own making. There is so much power in that. I remember a few years back, when my partner complained to his godparent about how hard it was to look after the kids, she reminded him that this was his dream.

    It’s true, it was our dream to have a family, and we spent years trying to make that happen. My partner even wanted two girls; he had names for them and everything. After we realized we needed to stop trying so hard, our wish came true.

    But it’s not just about kids; it’s about the place we live, the life we lead, the people around us—it’s all of our own making. And it’s actually pretty spectacular.

    I’m reminded of a little exercise of Marisa Peer’s I did one day, where I had to imagine seven-year-old me turning up at the front door of our house in my mind’s eye. I had to invite young me in and show her around. It was quite an emotional exercise. Looking at my life today through young me’s lenses was pretty gratifying.

    Thanks to my daughter, the dull response to her initial thought that I should write about today has turned to a sparkle. It wasn’t so unspectacular after all, I realize. In fact it was quite extraordinary and really quite fun.

    So often we focus on what’s lacking, or what didn’t meet our expectations, but we’re a lot happier when we appreciate the little things and recognize the beauty in the ordinary.

  • Don’t Forget to Appreciate How Far You’ve Come

    Don’t Forget to Appreciate How Far You’ve Come

    “Remember how far you’ve come, not how far you have to go. You are not where you want to be, but neither are you where you used to be.” ~Rick Warren

    We’re always talking about how we should live in the now and “be present.” We shame ourselves for looking back at the past or into the future, thinking that we shouldn’t look too far ahead or worry about what’s to come, and we shouldn’t get too caught up in events that have already happened. We want to be focused on being the best person we can be right now.

    We often forget, though, that it’s possible to look at our past with love, not ruminating in it but appreciating it. We’re often so focused on living in the present that we forget to be mindful of where we’ve been and how far we’ve come.

    You could say that I’m a bit of a productivity addict. I love doing things that are beneficial to me in some way. I love the feeling of doing something positive or productive for myself, whether it’s squeezing in that extra thirty-minute yoga practice or ten-minute meditation, or listening to podcasts or reading the news instead of watching TV. I get so caught up with being a “better version of me” that I forget to appreciate my current version.

    Last week when I was walking to work, listening to lines to practice for an audition, I felt this sense of pride.

    I had always wanted to be an actress growing up. It was my dream to be able to transform into a different character and tell a story through film or television. I wasn’t where I wanted to be in my career, but how cool was it that I was actually doing it? I was going to auditions and training with teachers and acting—something that I had dreamed of since I was a kid.

    This realization then snowballed into this moment where I looked at my life and said to myself, “Wow, I’ve done all these things and I’m living a life I’ve always wanted.”

    I began to list in my mind the things I have accomplished: I moved away from my home city, a place I hated; I’ve traveled to many different countries and even seen the pyramids; I went back to school and pursued a career in the arts; I continue to work toward making my childhood dreams come true…

    I realized that I sometimes get so caught up with my big dreams, like being a published author or working actress that I forget to recognize all the little dreams I’ve made come true!

    Even writing this I feel a bit embarrassed. A lot of the times it can feel like we’re bragging or that we don’t have a right to be proud of the things we’ve done. Maybe we have this feeling that we shouldn’t be proud of the things we’ve accomplished because we aren’t where we want to be.

    But for a daughter of a single mother who moved to Canada as a Vietnamese refugee, I’ve come far, and it’s important to recognize that.

    I recently said this out loud to my therapist, but it was different from how it felt in my mind. I had said it to myself with pride, but it didn’t really settle in how big that feeling was, to recognize my own journey and how far I’ve come.

    When I said to my therapist, I was also speaking it to my deeper self. I felt it in my soul.

    I said it to my younger self—the preteen, bullied girl who rode the train back and forth to avoid school. I said it to my early twenties, addicted self, and I said it to my current self: look at the things you’ve made happen.

    When we speak to our deeper selves and feel this connection with our past, this recognition of our journey, it can be groundbreaking. I had never felt that proud of myself, or that impressed with myself before. I cried and felt this amazing gratitude for my life, my own resilience, and most of all, myself.

    And again, it can feel so weird to go there, to try to find something to be proud of or to just be proud of where we are. So, how about we do that check-in with ourselves?

    How about we look at the past to appreciate it? How about we appreciate our own journeys? Our own resilience? How about we look at the places we’ve been, the relationships we’ve formed, the things we’ve achieved, not with regret or the longing of “if only” or “what ifs” or “I wish I was still there,” but “Wow, I did that? That’s where I used to be? That’s pretty cool.”

    We can get so caught up looking at where we should be, where we aren’t, and where others are in comparison that we forget to appreciate where we’ve been and where we’ve come from.

    This was the first time it really hit me how big this is, and how important it is to celebrate my progress. I felt like I had a true sense of perspective on life as a whole, from the triumphs to the failures, from obstacles to mistakes to perfect coincidences.

    It’s amazing that we’re all living and growing, trying to be the best we can be and moving forward every day. It’s a beautiful thing to be mindful of the present, but don’t forget to honor yourself, your past, and how far you’ve come. Odds are, it’s further than you think.

  • The Little Things in Life Are the Ones That Matter Most

    The Little Things in Life Are the Ones That Matter Most

    “It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe.” ~Muhammad Ali

    I followed a little boy in Walmart today. He didn’t look like my son and yet I trailed him and his mother all over the store. I curled my fingers around the shopping cart so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch him.

    He didn’t walk with Brendan’s bounce or jerk his head back, trying to slide his glasses back onto his nose. He didn’t have his sarcastic smile or those tiny freckles scattered across his cheeks.

    But he had the same cowlick sprouting from the back of his head. I wheeled my cart around and followed this little boy who looked nothing like my son. I itched to brush this boy’s hair, just like I did before Brendan grew too old and wiggled away.

    I used to smooth his spikes down and then laugh when they sprang back up, no matter how much gel I used. By the time he became a teenager, he gave up trying to tame them and left it messy and wild.

    And now, I’ll never get a chance to touch his hair again. My son died in an accident a week before his first day of high school.

    I followed this little boy through the aisles, zigzagging across the store. He spent a long time debating which Lego set to buy. I knew the perfect one, the Star Wars battleship, but I said nothing.

    A few minutes later, he and his mother walked out of the store while I stood there, that hollow feeling gnawing me from the inside. I’d learned to steel myself when I saw Brendan’s friends at the high school or celebrated his cousin’s sixteenth birthday, but I didn’t expect something so small as a wisp of hair to make me stumble.

    That boy’s hair was my pebble.

    You’re never sure what tiny thing will make you stumble. A few months after Brendan died, my husband went to a funeral. It was for his friend’s grandmother, a sad passing, but not tragic like losing a fifteen year old son.

    We both feared it would be too much for him. He prepared himself to see the coffin, to hear the sobs, to smell the roses and carnations in the room.

    “None of that bothered me,” he told me later. “I was fine. But then I went into the bathroom.”

    He stopped and shook his head. “I dried my hands on the air dryer and all I could see was that first time Brendan used one of them. I think he was four and he loved it. Again, he said, over and over. He kept washing his hands just so he could dry them again.”

    It wasn’t the tears of the mourners or the wooden casket covered in flowers that made him break down. It was the memory of Brendan laughing while watching the skin on his hand bubble and dance. Michael had steeled himself against the mountain, but it was the pebble that brought him down.

    A tiny pebble will forever make us stumble.

    And yet, it’s that same pebble that fills us with the sound of Brendan’s laughter. There will be days when I follow a little boy and his hair, limping in pain. But there will also be days when I’ll smile, my fingers warm with the memory of smoothing down Brendan’s wild and messy hair.

    Life is made up of these moments. Joy and heartache are woven into a tapestry of love. There are day when I want to pull on the threads of pain, but I know I risk unraveling it all.

    After Brendan’s accident, icy shock seeped inside me and froze my memories. I couldn’t remember his favorite foods or the nickname he called our dog. I couldn’t even say what we’d had for dinner on our last night together.

    But my daughter Lizzie remembered the special nachos he’d made after dinner that night. “He called them victory nachos,” she said and I smiled, picturing him slicing salami into perfect strips. He’d sprinkled them on top and dove into the pile, eating only one chip at a time.

    And Zack remembered the way he and his brother would lie on their backs on the trampoline, waiting until the sky grew dark. They’d search for the first star to twinkle in the sky and then close their eyes and wish that pigs could fly.

    We shared our memories in a notebook we left on the kitchen counter. The pages filled up, but not with big highlights like our vacation to Disney World. We wrote about the ordinary moments that are so easy to take for granted.

    Like the marathon Monopoly games in our basement and how Brendan always tried to get Park Avenue, even if he bankrupted himself. And the hours Brendan and Michael spent sitting by the firepit they’d built out of bricks. Or the coupon he made me when he was fourteen, inviting me on a bookstore date.

    I still have the slip of paper with his messy words scrawled on it, but what I cherish more is the memory of him hovering by my side, his eyes watching mine as I read his invitation. He’d seen me cry that morning and was desperate to make me smile again.

    This is how love endures. We gather tiny moments and string them together, like beads in a never-ending necklace. And yet, it took the loss of my son to make me realize the little things in life are the ones that matter the most.

    Our family life was a whirlwind of track meets and baseball practice and business meetings. In the chaos, it was far too easy to let those moments slip away. We carved out time for big vacations, but forgot to treasure the tickle fights late at night.

    Don’t wait for a loss to make you realize what you’re missing right now. Push away the distractions that will always be there and hold onto your loved ones and the everyday memories you make together.

    I still keep a notebook on my counter. I write down the piano song Zack played on my birthday or the way my daughter giggles when I touch her knee.

    And I pick up pebbles on my walks. I slip them into my pocket, its gentle weight a reminder to cherish the smallest moments in life.

  • How I’ve Learned to Fully Appreciate the Little Time I Have on Earth

    How I’ve Learned to Fully Appreciate the Little Time I Have on Earth

    “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.” ~Norman Cousins

    Recently, my grandfather passed away. His departure was difficult for me but it has also left me with something I’ll keep for the rest of my life—an unlikely lesson about life and gratitude.

    I hadn’t seen my grandfather often before he died because I’ve been living abroad for the last couple of years. But I was still fond of him and I warmly remembered the days we had spent together when I was young. So his passing was a shock and a tragedy for me. I felt the grief of losing someone close for the first time.

    Yet, amid all the pain, some other feeling started to come up: a sense of gratitude. I began to feel grateful that I got the chance to say goodbye to him in person. I felt grateful for having known him and having shared so many good moments with him. And I felt grateful that he was able to live his life and even die the way he wanted.

    At first I couldn’t figure out what to make of this weird mix of feelings. I did feel sadness and grief, no doubt. But how could I also experience gratitude? How was I supposed to react? Was it okay for me to feel gratitude or should I only feel sadness?

    It took me a little while to give myself permission to just feel the way I felt. And then I realized that I could take this as a parting gift from him. I began to experience, firsthand, that even in the midst of tragedy, there is still hope. And there are things that I could still be grateful for.

    Gradually, all those good things that are so easily overlooked became more obvious. The people we love, those daily moments of joy that we let go by unnoticed, the little things that make life easier. I began to appreciate all those things as I turned my attention to what I already had instead of what I thought I needed to become happier.

    For my own sake and for the sake of my grandfather, I decided to keep this gratefulness alive and nurture it. Here are the four steps that I’ve been taking since.

    1. Starting the day with gratitude

    At first, the feeling of grief kept reminding me of my desire to be grateful. As long as my grief was fresh, it was easy to stick to this new intention. But I knew I needed something to keep me going when those strong feelings eventually subside.

    That’s why I began to form a daily gratitude routine. It’s the simplest gratitude exercise imaginable and based on an idea that originally came from a positive psychology intervention (a scientifically validated exercise to increase one’s happiness) named three good things.

    Every morning before starting my work, I now write down three things I’m grateful for. I usually think of someone or something that makes my life better until a feeling of gratitude arises. And I stay with this feeling for a little while, maybe a minute or two.

    At times, it can be hard to connect with this feeling. That’s when I use a little trick that psychologists call mental subtraction. That means I’m not simply thinking about what is good in my life but I’m deliberately imagining it wasn’t there. This makes it much easier to feel grateful.

    When we think about how great it is to be able to walk, it can be hard to appreciate. On the other hand, when we think of how much worse life would be if we were paralyzed, it’s easier to experience a sense of gratefulness.

    I’m not suggesting we compare ourselves to people who have it worse than us. I don’t think gratitude is the appropriate response to other people’s misery. I’m simply saying that if we imagine our own life without something, we can help our brain see and appreciate it more.

    2. Enjoying the present

    A blow like the death of a loved one often makes people reflect on their lives. This was also true for me. I couldn’t help but notice how many of my life’s moments I have wasted.

    There were so many evenings I spent alone instead of calling a friend to grab dinner. So many conversations when I didn’t listen properly in order to get to what I wanted to say. And so many unused opportunities to say I love you to my family.

    But the past is gone, what’s left is to enjoy this very moment. Right now, I am grateful. I’m not in pain and I’m safe, I have enough to eat and a roof over my head. And I don’t have to fear any of this will be taken away from me any time soon. So this moment really offers everything to be enjoyed. It’s a fact that’s true for most moments.

    Of course, being fully present for every moment is an impossible ideal (unless you’re an enlightened person, I guess). But aspiring toward more presence is something that we all can do.

    To help me bring more awareness to my moments, I started to use an app that rings a mindfulness bell once every hour. It serves as a reminder to pause for a few seconds and simply enjoy life as it is. Every time the bell rings is an opportunity to be present.

    3. Saying thank you

    Not just moments of joy go by unnoticed; so do opportunities to say thank you. We overlook the kindness of the people closest to us because we take it for granted. Yet there are so many small acts of kindness that we could be grateful for.

    In my case, it had never occurred to me to express my gratitude toward my grandfather. In fact, I haven’t really felt much gratitude toward him at all, because I never truly thought about all the sacrifices he’d made to provide for his children and grandchildren. It only dawned on me recently as I’ve thought (and read) about his life.

    It’s likely that all of us have a person like this in our lives, or several people who have influenced our lives in a positive way who we’ve never properly thanked. There’s another positive psychology intervention that aims to remedy this situation. It’s writing a gratitude letter.

    The exercise goes like this: You think of a person who’s had a positive impact in your life and then write a letter that tells them what they did and how it has affected you for the better. The letter can take any form, but the basic idea is to write as if you’d deliver it at the end.

    Even though we don’t necessarily need science to tell us whether or not we’re happier after writing a gratitude letter, it’s good to know that research shows that this is one of the most powerful happiness exercises out there. I have to admit that I haven’t yet written a gratitude letter myself. But it’s next on my list. I don’t want to miss another opportunity to say thank you to the people I love.

    4. Savoring good memories

    There’s one more ingredient for gratefulness and it is hidden in our past. It’s those wonderful memories of joy and love that we carry around with us. Some of those memories might even seem forgotten, but that’s exactly why it’s so important to bring them back to life.

    Looking through old photo albums and reminiscing with childhood friends about growing up are great ways to do that. Similarly, I’m glad that I’ve heard so many stories about my grandfather. They provide something to remember him by, and they’ve brought me closer to him and the rest of my family. Besides, it’s comforting to be able to keep him alive in my memories.

    I now keep a picture of him at my desk, and he’s smiling back at me as I’m writing this post. And occasionally, when I feel bad, I remember those long gone days together—driving around in his car, walking in the woods, visiting his friends. Because sometimes, especially when life is difficult,  it can seem that all we have left are some good memories of the past.

    —

    I believe doing these four things regularly helps us appreciate how precious our little time on earth is. Of course, gratitude doesn’t inoculate us against feeling bad at all times, and it sure as hell doesn’t take away the grief. But it can be a powerful practice to help us live life fully while we have the chance—and to keep those alive who we have lost.