Tag: attention

  • 20 Ways Sitting in Silence Can Completely Transform Your Life

    20 Ways Sitting in Silence Can Completely Transform Your Life

    “Silence is a source of great strength.” ~Lao Tzu

    For over two years I spent one out of every four weeks in silence. At the time I was living at a Zen Monastery and every month we would have a week-long silent retreat.

    During this retreat we sat meditation in silence, ate in silence, worked in silence, and only communicated through hand gestures and written notes.

    At first living like this was hard, but over time I learned to grow to appreciate silence. By the time I left I learned that silence was my friend and teacher.

    What did silence teach me?

    1. Satisfaction

    I used to think I needed to watch TV every night. But at monastery I went without and discovered I didn’t need it.

    Silence taught me to be happy with less. Pick something that’s weighing you down and let it go. Your life will thank you.

    2. Expression

    When you can only talk by writing a note, you only say what’s important. Before the monastery I talked a lot but said little.

    Silence taught me that a few simple words well spoken have more power than hours of chatter. Think of one simple thing you can say that would help someone feel better and say it.

    3. Appreciation

    Being able to speak makes life easy, but when I couldn’t talk I learned how much I relied on others.

    Silence taught me to appreciate the value of relating to others. The next time you see your friends or family, try to really listen. Deep listening expresses deep appreciation.

    4. Attention

    Several times at my first retreat I thought my phone was vibrating. But then I would remember I didn’t have my phone. It showed me how my phone divided my attention.

    Silence taught me how important it is to let go of distractions. The next time you are with someone you care about, try turning off your phone and putting it away. It will make paying attention easier.

    5. Thoughts

    I once sat a retreat next door to a construction project. What amazed me was how easily my thoughts drowned out the noise. I realized if my thoughts were this loud, I’d better make them as wise as possible.

    Silence taught me the importance of shaping my thinking. Take time each day to notice your thoughts and let go of thoughts that don’t serve you.

    6. Nature

    Because I sat retreat in every season, I know that the sound of wind in fall is different than it is in winter.

    Silence taught me to notice nature. Take a short walk outside in silence and you’ll discover the wisdom and peace that nature has to offer.

    7. Body

    During retreat I noticed that whenever I got lost in thought, I lost track of my body. And when I focused on my body, my thoughts would calm down.

    Silence taught me to be in my body. Close your eyes and ask, “What sensations do I feel in my hand?” Learning to feel your body can calm your troubled mind.

    8. Overstimulation

    Whenever I went into town after retreat, the world seemed so loud and fast. I came to realize how much our senses have to process most of the time.

    Silence taught me the importance of reducing the stimulation. Enjoy some quiet time everyday. The less you see and hear, the more settled your mind can become.

    9. Sound

    People would come to the monastery and remark how quiet it was. But living at the monastery I knew all the noises, from frogs, to owls, to the sound of sandals on the sidewalk.

    Silence taught me that the world is a rich texture of sounds. Sit in front of your house and close your eyes. You’ll be amazed at what you hear if you listen long enough.

    10. Humanity

    During retreat I was surrounded by imperfect people who were doing their best. Some were happy, some were sad, but all were wonderfully human.

    Silence taught me that people display great beauty. Find a good spot to people watch with an open heart. What you see may inspire you.

    11. Space

    For a long time anytime something difficult came up, I would just distract myself. But retreat taught me that if I avoided something it would never go away.

    Silence taught me that space helps me face hard times. The next time you face something difficult, pause and honor whatever’s arising.

    12. Love

    I used to think love was this big thing. But in retreat I found that I felt love for so many things.

    Silence taught me that love can be simple. Think of someone you haven’t said I love you to recently and tell them.

    13. Courage

    I used to think courage was about facing danger, but during retreat I realized that real courage is about facing yourself.

    Silence taught me the courage it takes to be still. When we stop moving everything we’re running from catches up. The next time you are afraid, stop and wait for it to pass. There is immense courage inside your heart.

    14. Perseverance

    Every retreat reminded me that speaking is easy, but staying quiet is hard.

    Silence isn’t flashy, but it has an immense power to endure. The next time someone doubts you, instead of disagreeing, silently vow not to give up. Action speaks volumes.

    15. Faith

    I often ask for reassurance or feedback. But living in silence meant I had to trust my instincts.

    Silence taught me to have faith in myself. The next time you begin to feel anxious, sit in silence and see if you can find the space of deep faith that lives in your heart.

    16. Honesty

    I used to lie so I wouldn’t have to explain myself. But when I couldn’t talk I began to notice this impulse and how much it degraded my integrity.

    Silence taught me the importance of telling the truth. Notice times where you tell little lies and try telling the truth instead. It isn’t always easy but it’s the first step to trusting ourselves and others. 

    17. Gratitude

    During retreat I didn’t have a lot of comforts. It helped me see how much I took for granted and how much I had to be grateful for.

    At the end of every day sit in silence and ask yourself what am I grateful for. You’ll be amazed at the blessings you discover.

    18. Simplicity

    I used to love drama and conflict. But at retreat I found I was happier when I kept it simple.

    Silence taught me that simplicity and joy are close companions. Pick one space in your home you could simplify. Keep it simple for one month and enjoy the ease it offers your life.

    19. Connection

    I used to think I had to talk in order to feel connected. I realized during retreat that I can feel connected just by being near people I care about.

    Silence taught me that words can get in the way. Do something in silence with someone you love. It will be awkward at first but eventually you will see what it means just to be in someone’s presence.

    20. Truth

    I studied philosophy in college and I thought I could read about truth. But retreat taught me that truth is found in silence.

    Silence has taught me a deeper truth than words ever could. Sit in silence once a week and feel the truth in your heart. It’s there whether you can express it in words or not.

  • Lessons from a Former Liar: The Power of Owning Our Stories

    Lessons from a Former Liar: The Power of Owning Our Stories

    Standing in the Sun

    “I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.” ~Brené Brown

    I don’t know about you, but I used to lie. I used to lie a lot. I remember one particular instance when I lied about being a passenger in a drive-by.

    I lied about my age, my weight, and the reason for the injuries on my body. Sure, I’d just bruised myself by walking into a table, but it made a much more seductive story if I told people that I’d fallen from the rooftop of a friend’s house and lived to tell the tale.

    I reached the peak of lying around the age of 12, which was when I kept the infamous drive-by tale in circulation. At that point, everything that came out of my mouth was a complete fabrication and not a well-crafted one. After all, I was in grade seven and I didn’t really shoot people, nor did I know anyone who did, nor would I have known where to find them.

    At that point, it was easy to keep lying because, after all, I had no friends. When you have no friends, you can lie about anything and everything. No one holds you accountable, because no one really knows anything about you.

    When you have friends, you can’t really go around telling people that you were in a drive-by last Thursday. Your friend will call your bluff because, after all, you can’t be in a drive-by while having a cup of tea a few blocks away.

    So, I got some friends and the preposterous-factor in my tales decreased. Still, I continued to exaggerate. I would say five when it was really two. I would say “everyone” when it was really just my mom. I would say it happened to me when it really happened on television.

    When I was in acting school, I did some extra work for Degrassi. That’s when you get paid exactly minimum wage to sit in a room for ten hours and spend about an hour of that, off and on, walking around behind real actors who had speaking parts. Then, they blur you out. It wasn’t the worst job, but it certainly was not a major, regular part on a national television show.

    The most interesting thing I detect, looking back on my blatant and not-so-blatant lies, was that I selected them by the emotions that they produced. Like a farmer picking her crop, I picked my stories by how well I thought they’d do in the market.

    Every story I ever told would get one of three responses: “That is such a lie!”, nothing (which I assume now is a stand-in for “That is such a lie!”), and open-mouthed, wide-eyed shock and pity. The latter, I lived for.

    I wasn’t sure why I wanted it so badly, but I did. I wanted it, needed it, craved it. I was like a moth to the flame of attention and everyone knew it. Yes, I was that girl, the one none of us want to be.

    Recovering from my cluelessness was largely correlated to my forming close relationships with other human beings. The closer I got, the less I had to lie. These people, it seemed, liked me for just who I was and not this fabricated, nonsensical version of myself.

    At some point, I got the courage to tell my story. My real story. The one with no drive-bys and no star television appearances. It was the real-live tale of what I’d been through.

    I still remember the open-mouthed, wide-eyed shock and pity.

    Then, I felt a combination of ravenous embarrassment and gleeful hope. Oh, I thought, this is much easier than keeping up with all those story lines. 

    Looking back on my past, it was difficult, at first, not to judge that girl I used to be.

    I would cringe thinking about how obvious my lies were and how horribly desperate I was for attention. That is, until I realized that I was hungry for something that we’re all hungry for—that feeling of being seen, really seen, and accepted.

    The more I’ve told my story and the more I’ve helped others tell their stories, the more I’ve realized that the girl I used to be isn’t just an embarrassing part of my life that I can sweep under the carpet.

    That sort of desperate hunger for love and acceptance runs silently and rampantly through our society destroying our courage and our relationships with one another.

    If we’re ever going to be happy, we’ve got to come back to the truth about ourselves. That journey starts individually. It starts with accepting and sharing those parts of the human condition that we all know about, but we’re too afraid to share.

    Those parts of our past that make us cringe are, paradoxically, the very parts of ourselves that we should be showing to people.

    When I first set out to be an author, I tried to write about things in a distant, authoritative sort of tone. Here’s a top ten list of how you can be more authentic, I’d say.

    At the end of the day, no one really wanted to read that. However, everyone wanted to hear the open-hearted, vulnerable pieces of my soul. Everyone wanted to see the courage that it takes to be true, honest, and authentic, because it gives them that courage as well.

    If you’re struggling for authenticity, struggling to live a completely honest existence, I’ll share with you a secret: it gets easier.

    It gets easier not just because of practice, but because the willingness to go out there and be yourself in a world that is constantly shoving into your face ready-made formulas for how to be someone else, that inspires people.

    And, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my experiences as both a pathological liar and a completely authentic human being, it’s this: inspiring people is much more worthwhile than shocking them.

    Photo by Matthias

  • Wanting to Be Special: Would Fame and Fortune Make Us Happy?

    Wanting to Be Special: Would Fame and Fortune Make Us Happy?

    Onstage

    “Some people believe holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. However, there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go and then do it.” ~Ann Landers

    Until recently, the name “Tiny Buddha” didn’t make any sense to me for a website. Why “tiny”?  Yet, an experience I had recently helped me understand why it might make sense to put those two words together.

    This experience even led me to ask two key questions that help me to let go of whatever I’m holding onto.

    Swimming with “Sharks”

    It all started when I got a call from the producers of the TV show “Shark Tank.” The casting producer said he’d heard about my online “happiness course” and thought it would make a great idea for a business to “pitch” on the show—in front of millions of people.

    They asked if I wanted to apply for a likely shot to be on their show.

    Once I hung up the phone, I was extremely excited. In the 90’s I had been on Oprah a few times, and I loved the added attention and money her endorsements brought to my books. Although I had been focused on my spiritual path for the last fifteen years, I could feel my old longing for fame and fortune come galloping back.

    Yet, the more I thought about it, the more I felt like something was wrong. Our Western cult/culture tells us that fame and fortune are good—even wonderful things. Yet, does Donald Trump look happy?

    When I reflected on my life, I saw that the happiest times were when I felt connected to others. It feels magical to realize we are all simply small parts in a larger “whole of humanity.” If I so love feeling connected to people, then why was I still holding onto wanting to be “special” so intensely?

    Questioning My Motives

    Questioning my motives was painful. One part of me really wanted to feel special—even superior—again. Yet, somehow I knew that the real thing I was after was being smaller—not bigger. Only a “tiny” ego can have the spaciousness to see what’s needed in any given moment.

    Our parents, our educational system, and our society reward us for attempting to be big—whether that may be in terms of being rich, famous, or successful. 

    But who do you really look up to? The business tycoon with lots of power or the loving friend who is always compassionate and there for you?

    The problem with “getting small” is that it requires a lot of letting go of the parts of our self that seek out separation, power, and wanting all the attention. Yet, when I let go of my need for constant attention and power, that’s when I realize the world of love and peace are always available here and now.

    But letting go is not easy to do, especially when some “sharks” are awaiting you.

    The Two Questions

    As I struggled to decide about the show, I remembered two questions author Peter Russell said he used to help let go of stuff. The first question was, “If I get this thing I’m holding onto, will it make me happy for long?” The second question was, “If I don’t get this thing I’m wanting, can I still be happy?”

    As I reflected on each of these questions, my mind’s “Velcro tendency” to grab and hold on tightly began to soften. “If I get this will I be happy for long?” No, not really. “If I don’t get this, can I still be happy?” Absolutely.

    When I called back the producer at Shark Tank and told him I was not going to be on the show, he sounded very surprised. His exact words were, “We’ve hardly ever had anyone say no to an offer like this. You’re missing out on a great opportunity.”

    I thought about what he said about “missing out on a great opportunity.” In reality, every time we demand being center stage and trying to be a “big” Buddha, we miss out on a great opportunity.

    In fact, each moment is an opportunity if our ego is small enough to allow this magical moment to shine through loud and clear.

    Letting Go of Regrets

    Right after saying “no” to the Shark Tank show, I had one regret. I would have liked to tell the “sharks” that the endless pursuit of money and fame was a waste of time.

    I would have liked to tell them they don’t look very happy to me—and being happy and loving are surely more important than riches.

    But I soon realized my desire to “tell off” the famous shark investors on the show was just one more thing my ego was holding onto. So I asked myself, “Would being self-righteous like that really make me happy for long?” No. “If I let go of my self-righteousness, can I still be happy?”  Yes.

    Finding the Buddha Within

    Happiness and joy are our natural states—just look at little kids. If they’re not in pain or immediate discomfort, they’re pretty happy. So our job is to see and let go of whatever obstacles are in the way of that natural joy of being alive.

    For me, being around friends who can remind me that love and happiness are more important than being famous has been key. In addition, asking questions like the ones I presented here have been helpful in assisting me to let go of unnecessary baggage.

    The Buddha is already inside of us; it’s our job to make sure our ego and desires stay small enough that they don’t block the view.

    Photo by JM Abania

  • Wanting to Feel Good and Look Good: Why Do We Do What We Do?

    Wanting to Feel Good and Look Good: Why Do We Do What We Do?

    Sun Goddess

    “Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” ~Shakespeare

    Have you ever stopped to question why you do what you do? Or how it looks to other people?

    I’ve done this pretty much all through my life. In fact, an outsider might say that I’ve spent more time analyzing my place in the world than experiencing it.

    In some ways, this is true, and not uncommon for someone who’s chosen to be a writer.

    As a young child I used to silently mouth the words of what I’d just said after every sentence I uttered.

    Even as a kid, I felt this need to rethink my thoughts after speaking them, and because I was too young to realize it looked strange, I did this while moving my lips.

    I wondered why I’d said what I’d said, and how others might have heard it.

    This followed me through life, and later manifested in a desire to not only say the “right” thing, but also to do it.

    Never was this more important to me than in my mid-twenties, after I’d spent the majority of my adolescent and young adult life self-destructing and unintentionally hurting others—something that, I feared, confirmed that I was a bad, selfish person (ironically, the same fears that led me to self-destruct).

    I wanted so badly to be good. To do good. To look good. I imagined and hoped that this was the key to feeling good.

    I didn’t want to be selfish—that was bad. So I concluded that I needed to be selfless.

    I didn’t want to crave so much attention—that was bad. So I concluded that I needed to be humble.

    I didn’t want to be or be seen as manipulative—that was bad. So I concluded that I needed to prove that I had good intentions.

    In retrospect, I can see that these realizations and conclusions sparked my initial interest in the personal development industry six years back, and they informed how I did what I did. (more…)

  • What You Do Matters

    What You Do Matters

    “To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

    I used to refer to myself as a white crayon in the coloring box of life.

    Have you ever wondered what purpose a white crayon serves? There are all of these other beautiful colors to be put to good use, but the white crayon just kind of sits there and tends to get overlooked.

    That’s exactly how I felt. I felt like I was just merely existing and not serving any kind of purpose. And at the time, I sort of wasn’t.

    I wasn’t doing anything except coming up with demeaning nicknames for myself, and trying to swallow the fact that I might never be of any importance in the world. I honestly felt like I didn’t matter at all.

    I thought that in order to feel like I really mattered or that I was doing something worthy enough, I had to be doing something big—something that everyone noticed and applauded me for.

    We live in a society where the little things we do often get overlooked and it has a way of making us believe that those things don’t matter.

    They do.

    Compassion, understanding, small acts of kindness, or a willingness to simply reach out to others in any way can all make a huge difference.

    I want to share a few real life examples of little things making a big difference, including my own story in which I realized this fact.    (more…)

  • Everyone in Your Life Is You

    Everyone in Your Life Is You

     “You validate people’s lives by your attention.” ~Unknown

    When my husband and I lived in New Providence, the capital island of the Bahamas, we rented a charming wooden cottage with a sweeping vista of the ocean from a sweet, elderly man who was 88 years old.

    Our landlord Leslie lived alone in an elegant house next door to our cottage and I made it a habit to visit him each day, after arriving home from teaching at a local high school.

    Leslie was lonely and my heart would ache for him. Having lost his wife a few years earlier, he was a sad, wistful figure, who would spend the day sitting with the front door open, gazing out at traffic and wondering where all his friends had gone.

    While I felt sorry for his situation, I was acutely aware of why people had stopped coming by. Leslie could barely hear a word anyone said and, as a consequence, my visits would consist of raising my voice to the highest level possible, which would leave me hoarse and physically drained.

    One afternoon after making tea and settling down to attempt to communicate, Leslie started by labeling himself “a silly old fool” and then related an incident I will never forget.

    Over the years I have recalled it many times as a way of highlighting the importance of being attentive and present.

    As the story goes, Leslie flew to Grand Bahama Island to spend the weekend with his son Derek. When it was time to leave, Derek took Leslie back to the airport, checked him in, and said goodbye.

    In the departure area, Leslie was unable to fully hear an announcement. Rather than making inquiries, Leslie followed a group of people moving toward the gate and, relying on a steward to correctly check his ticket, he boarded the plane.

    However, much to his acute embarrassment and dismay, Leslie later realized the plane was touching down in Miami, rather than New Providence.

    At different times in my life, I have been each character in this story, deaf to what others have been trying to tell me, unable to articulate my needs, and woefully inattentive and distracted. (more…)

  • Tiny Wisdom: On Being Seen

    Tiny Wisdom: On Being Seen

    “Enthusiasm is the greatest asset in the world. It beats money, power, and influence.” ~Henry Chester

    Influence has become a huge buzz word, particularly now that social media has taken the world by storm. There are sites to measure it. Blog posts that dissect it. Books that analyze the psychology of it. Collectively, we’re obsessed with the ability to persuade other people.

    It’s not just about driving consumer behavior, although clearly that’s a big part of it–everyone needs to earn a living. It’s also not all about the ego–having the most followers, the most retweets, or the most influential friends. I suspect it’s also about the desire to be seen.

    With so many people sharing their thoughts, feelings, and gifts, it’s easy to feel like you’re not being heard. Like you’re not making a difference. But sometimes in our desires to be seen by others, we stop looking into ourselves.

    There’s no denying that a spotlight can magnify the impact that someone can make. But if you think back to the last time someone affected you in a profound way, odds are it had nothing to do with authority or influence.

    What really makes a difference is heartfelt, inspired action, backed by authentic, positive intention.

    It’s not power of persuasion that moves us; it’s the power of passion.

    That’s something we can all access, and it does make a difference–even if it doesn’t reach masses of people. More importantly, passion makes a difference for us. No amount of approval or validation can provide the same joy that comes from looking into and following your heart.

    Today, if you feel like you’re not being seen, ask yourself: What am I passionate about, and how can I use that passion today to be the person I want to be?

    Photo by florianpusch

  • Where We Place Our Attention

    Where We Place Our Attention

    “The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh 

    Let’s think for a second about emptiness. Why is a cup of tea useful? For its decorations? No—it’s  useful for its emptiness, for the space where we can pour tea.

    When we let go of all the things that are cluttering our minds, we become like that tea cup, and we are able to use that space to focus on what matters: giving attention to people, here and now.

    Society considers money, praise, and rewards important. However, attention speaks clearer than everything else. Why does attention matter? Because it is personal, and highly valuable, both in terms of quality and quantity.

    Quality is about making a deep connection with the person to whom we give attention. Quantity is about time. And time is the ultimate currency.

    Imagine this for a second: There is a $86,400 lottery drawing. Each one of us is automatically entered into it with no action required from our side. The odds to win this lottery are extremely slim, but someone has to win it and we did it!

    On a daily basis, each of us receives a very generous prize: $86,400, wired to our private accounts for personal use, each morning.

    This award comes with some restrictions: (more…)

  • How to Help Someone Without Saying a Thing

    How to Help Someone Without Saying a Thing

    “The greatest good you can do for another is not just to share your riches but to reveal to him his own.”  Benjamin Disraeli

    Listening. It’s a very powerful tool but unfortunately not well utilized.

    I propose that if we all learned to listen better, there would be less of a need for therapists. I myself am a social worker and have been providing counseling to clients for years.

    I have often felt that I was working as a well-paid or glorified listener; that if “lay” people could just listen better, there would be less of a need for professional listeners.

    Those clients who simply need a safe place to unload and vent would already have a space where what they say matters for that time period, where they feel heard and acknowledged.

    As human beings, we all have a universal need to feel heard and understood.

    I might be going out on a limb to say that I find many people to be quite self-centered in their conversation, or perhaps I should say in their monologue.

    They love to hear themselves talk, rarely ask the other questions, and when they finally allow the other person to speak, they quickly bring it right back to themselves.

    In the book The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein, there is a paragraph on this listening business.

    Narrated by a dog, it reads “I never deflect the course of the conversation with a comment of my own.  People, if you pay attention to them, change the direction of one another’s conversations constantly….  Pretend you are a dog like me and listen to other people rather than steal their stories.” (more…)

  • Compare Well

    Compare Well

    Apple and Orange

    “When you are content to be simply yourself and don’t compare or compete, everybody will respect you.” ~Lao Tzu

    Conventional wisdom suggests that if you want to be happy you shouldn’t compare yourself to other people. Conventional wisdom isn’t always realistic.

    Try as you may to completely stop making comparisons, you’ll likely come back to the instinct at least on occasion.

    Discontent is part of the human condition—the nagging sense that something’s missing, even when you seem to have it all. We’re constantly evolving, growing, and looking for new ways to expand our impact on the world, new ways to reach and stretch our potential.

    That’s not necessarily a bad thing if you see the pursuit as constant gain instead of the cause as constant lack. And it’s equally harmless to compare yourself to others if it allows you to learn from people you admire.

    If you compare yourself to your boss and it motivates you to work smarter, that comparison improved your life for the better.

    If you compare yourself to someone your age who started a non-profit, and it inspires you to volunteer, that comparison made a difference in not just your life, but others’, too.

    It’s when the comparison game gets you down on yourself that you need to be cautious. (more…)