Tiny Buddha

Tag: brain

  • How to Move Through Your Fear by Retraining Your Brain

    How to Move Through Your Fear by Retraining Your Brain

    When you’re in fight-or-flight mode, everything you do or don’t do teaches the brain something about the perceived threat. When you avoid or flee the situation, your brain experiences a wave of relief. The amygdala learns that avoiding that situation is how you stay safe from that threat.

    This is exactly how you want the brain to respond if the threat is a grizzly bear. But what if the perceived threat is something less biologically adaptive, like a worry about being judged or teased?

    Let’s say you’re invited to a party full of new people, and you have thoughts of looking dumb, making a mistake, or being judged. The fear response is triggered, and you decide not to go to the party. Whew…relief! You don’t have to be judged!

    However, you’ve now taught the brain that parties are dangerous (even the ones without tequila), and avoiding them is how you stay safe. The next time you have to attend a party or event, the anxiety response is even stronger—the brain desperately tries to get you to flee, because that’s how you’ve stayed safe in the past.

    Anxiety gets worse and worse as you avoid it and can even start to generalize. A fear of parties can spread to all social events and then to brief interactions with baristas at the coffee shop. It can become debilitating, preventing you from doing things you really want to do.

    That’s what happens when you train your brain to sound the alarm when there’s no real danger—but it doesn’t have to be that way.

    Retrain Your Brain

    Let’s say you choose to behave differently when you’re anxious but not in real danger. You recognize your fear, accept it, and go to the party anyway. In fact, you go to a lot of parties, even though your fight-or-flight response kicks in.

    The brain is collecting data about what happens and soon realizes, Wait a minute, nothing bad is happening! Maybe this isn’t actually dangerous! Over time, you retrain your amygdala about what is safe, and the fear response becomes less intense or disappears.

    If you sit around waiting to feel comfortable, you’ll be waiting forever. Your brain won’t magically retrain itself. You have to act before it feels comfortable, before you feel ready.

    You can choose to do things that scare you—to feel the fear and act anyway. Avoiding your fears makes your world smaller; facing them expands it.

    Maybe you can’t relate to the party anxiety scenario, but I bet there is at least one area in your life where you are afraid to fail. It could be your work, your finances, your relationships, your body, your reputation, your legacy…there are many possibilities. We all have something we’re afraid to ruin, and that fear holds us back from taking that very thing to the next level.

    With the right training, though, your brain can unlearn its fear of virtually anything, even things you would think are unquestionable…like lions.

    Facing the Lions

    My best friend Joe and I were in Kenya visiting the Maasai community. It was the perfect chance to fulfill our dream of going on a safari, so one morning, we woke up before sunrise to hit the plains. It was a rugged outfit, riding around the Serengeti in doorless Land Cruisers trying to get close to elephants and big cats.

    And we did—a little too close, actually.

    It had been pouring rain through the night, and the ground had turned into a few feet of mud. We were attempting to get our tires unstuck when our guide said in a hushed but urgent tone, “DON’T. MOVE. BE. QUIET.”

    On the right side of the car, a giant lioness with the drooling jaw of a cold-blooded killer was walking directly toward me. There was nothing between us but three feet of air—not even a car door. In this much scarier version of The Lion King, Nala crouched, we locked eyes, and I felt her slink past my legs just as we were able to peel out from the mud.

    My life flashed before me as I pissed my pants and imagined my obituary reading, “In death, Bridget became what she loved most in life: a delicious meal.” Hakuna matata.

    Seek to Understand

    We thought the mega cat’s demon stare was the true embodiment of fear, but we hadn’t quite seen it all yet. Later that afternoon, we were inching through the tall grass, looking for signs of life, when we saw a figure coming toward us in the distance. It didn’t look like an animal, but there were no roads or villages in that direction for miles and miles.

    Twenty minutes later, a Maasai woman appeared, her traditional bright red and blue patterned Shuka standing out starkly against the endless brownish-green grass. We were stunned. It was 100 degrees with no water in sight, and we were in a vast, open valley.

    We expected to see giant cats in this area at any moment, and she was just waltzing through? And what was she carrying on her back? Wait… was that a baby?

    She walked up to us, and we chatted. I told her about our close encounter with the lion and said incredulously, “Aren’t you scared of the lions while you’re walking all by yourself?”

    She laughed at me and said, “No. I am only afraid of the hippos.”

    The Maasai know from experience that lions are lazy and unlikely to attack humans unless they feel threatened (they certainly could have fooled me). On the other hand, hippos (yes, the giant water pigs) are highly aggressive and kill more people each year than lions, elephants, leopards, buffalo, and rhinos combined. Hungry, hungry hippos indeed.

    So there you go—even the things that seem genuinely worth fearing might not be what they seem. More often than not, the more you understand something, the less scary it becomes. Of course, most of us aren’t going to encounter lions in the wild (or hippos, for that matter), but this holds true for everything you might fear, including other people.

    Don’t Fear the Other

    “Cow blood. Cow meat. And cow milk.”

    That’s what a Maasai warrior told me when I asked what they liked to eat. “Wait… that’s it?!” I exclaimed. “Yes—it’s very good, very simple,” he said with a laugh.

    As I admired his muscles glistening in the sun, I took a sip (not bad!) and briefly contemplated switching my diet before remembering the extremely low chances of the granola health stores back home in LA selling bulk cow blood.

    On the surface, the Maasai people could hardly be more different from me. Our attire, what we eat, our daily activities, our language, our surroundings, our communities—we seem to have nothing in common. But the more time I spent with them, the more I realized how untrue this was.

    This warrior welcomed us into his village with genuine hospitality. We found common ground in music, my first love and a huge part of their culture. They taught us their traditional songs and dances and told us that contemporary Tanzanian and Kenyan hip-hop artists often incorporated Maasai rhythms into their songs.

    The women of the tribe showed us how they make the gorgeous jewelry they sell to tourists. We made a fire together, had a jumping contest (I lost miserably), and listened to exciting tales of life in the bush. Yes, we are different on the surface, but when it comes to values, we share more than I ever expected.

    We love music, our community, and the outdoors. And a juicy steak, of course.

    Get Closer

    As human beings, it’s simply in our nature to draw a line between “us” and “them”—our people and other people. “Other” people are the ones we don’t understand or relate to, and we’re much more likely to perceive them as scary or threatening, whether they really are or not.

    We see this repeated endlessly throughout history, all over the world, and it continues today. The solution to this fear is simple: get closer. The better you know people, the harder it is to demonize them.

    Talk to enough people, and you’ll begin to see that everyone has their reasons for thinking and living the way they do. Most people aren’t crazy or evil—they’ve just arrived at a particular set of conclusions based on the experiences they’ve had and the information they’ve been given. When you recognize that most strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet, you can do away with the labels and fear and just listen to each other with empathy and open minds (hey, a girl can dream!).

    Everything You Want is On the Other Side of Fear

    To help you start to dissolve your own fears (whatever they may be), try the following exercise. First, think of one specific thing that fear is holding you back from going after. For example, here are some common ones:

    • Traveling to a new country
    • Taking a new job or trying a new career
    • Moving to a new city
    • Learning or using a new skill
    • Committing to a romantic relationship
    • Making new friends/socializing

    Now, focus on that one fear and answer the following questions:

    1. If you did what you’re afraid to do, what negative things might happen?
    2. What would be so bad about that? What would it mean about you if your fear came true?
    3. What does this tell you about what you believe about your safety, worth, competence, or lovability?
    4. Where did you learn to believe this about yourself?
    5. How does this belief keep you from pursuing your dreams?
    6. What would you do if you believed something different about yourself?

    Ultimately, when you master your own ego and stop worrying about the judgment of others and potential negative outcomes, fear can evaporate, and you’ll be surprised by how fast the voice of dissuasion disappears.

    Feeling the Fear… And Doing It Anyway

    Let me share an example of what I mean. Some time ago, I had the opportunity to speak alongside Sir Richard Branson. He was my idol; years prior, I had even listed getting beers with him as an experience I really wanted to have.

    This was my chance—but there was a problem. A huge one. I was petrified of public speaking.
    As I focused on that fear, though, I started to realize that what I was actually afraid of was something far deeper. Every time I thought about speaking in public, I was terrified I would be exposed as a fraud. I didn’t have an unshakeable belief in my own competence, and that had stopped me from pursuing my dreams of speaking on stages for my whole life.

    But what if, I asked myself, I let myself believe in my own innate worth? What if I pushed back against the fear that I would be exposed as a fraud? I knew that doing so would expand my world and give me the chance to meet my hero—so that’s what I decided to do.

    It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it, because after the talk, I got a chance to live my dream: Sir Richard and I shared a few beers. As we were talking, I mentioned how scared I had been to get up on stage, and then he said something that changed my life forever. He was terrified of public speaking, too.
    To hear that someone insanely accomplished felt that way gave me hope for myself. It wasn’t just beginners like me. I knew I could remember that the next time I felt nervous on stage—that we’re all human. And it would be okay.

    With that newfound revelation, I started working to overcome my lifelong phobia, and as I did, each step I took gave me the confidence to push past my fear. Now, just a few years later, speaking is my passion and livelihood. The cave I feared to enter held the treasure I was seeking.

  • How Resentment Affects Your Health and How to Forgive

    How Resentment Affects Your Health and How to Forgive

    “If one by one we counted people out for the least sin, it wouldn’t take us long to get so we had no one left to live with. For to be social is to be forgiving.” ~Robert Frost 

    There are two things that may come to mind when you think about forgiveness.

    The many spiritual healers and gurus that talk about its importance, including but not limited to Buddha quotes.

    And the person you think you will never forgive.

    Forgiveness has a largely religious or spiritual connotation.

    In Buddhist teachings, grudges are likened to holding onto hot coal, in that it only ends up burning you. In Hinduism, the Vedas associate holding grudges with carrying a bag of negative memories and feelings, leading to anger and unresolved emotions that affect the present and the future. In Christianity, mercy is only shown to those who practice forgiveness when others have sinned against them.

    What’s least likely to come to mind, ironically, is the condition of your actual brain when faced with the conundrum of forgiving.

    Only recently has the scientific community begun studying the effects of forgiveness from a neurological standpoint.

    A plethora of studies have found links between the daily practice of forgiveness and improved psychological and physical health.

    Apart from lowering blood pressure, heart rate, and overall stress, the act of forgiveness has also been scientifically proven to improve sleep and reduce fatigue.

    Rarely has a subject garnered nods of agreement from both the scientific and religious community together. The results of these studies, along with several others, dovetail perfectly into what many spiritual leaders and religious teachings have concluded about forgiveness.

    Psychologist Charlotte Witvliet conducted one such study, asking her patients to recall an old grudge.

    She found that when they did so, it not only affected them mentally, but the bitterness manifested physically as well. Their blood pressure and heart rate increased, leading to increase in anxiety. Ruminating about over a past betrayal was stressful, uncomfortable, and anxiety-inducing.

    The only way out, says says Dr. Frederic Luskin, cofounder of the Stanford Forgiveness Project, is through forgiveness.

    Your brain has a happiness gauge called the nucleus accumbens. Throughout your life, your happiness meter might bounce back and forth on a scale of one to ten—ten being most happy.

    As you go about your daily routine (breakfast, work, social activities), the nucleus accumbens sends messages to the amygdala—the pleasure center of the brain—to stimulate it when something pleasant happens (e.g.: a good meal) or negatively stimulate it when something unpleasant happens (from minor infractions and small disagreements to larger fights and nasty altercations).

    As humans, we have two options in how we choose to respond to negative interactions and experiences.

    We can either ruminate in our misery over the boss that fired us or the roommate that betrayed our trust or choose to let it go.

    It’s natural for us to ruminate. It’s what comes most easily to us. What we don’t realize is that when we choose to ruminate, the mere name or any hint of the offence can cause a reaction in our nervous system. The amygdala gets activated in 27th of a second, releasing cortisol, the stress hormone. The same reaction that you would have if you were being chased by a wild animal.

    Those hormones stay in your system for a few hours, until they are metabolized out. Frequent activation of these pain sensors reduces serotonin levels and can even cause depression.

    On the other hand, letting go of the emotion, or forgiving, deflates the power of the situation and releases dopamine in the brain.

    For a while, I was one of the few who couldn’t experience a positive impact from practicing forgiveness.

    Despite my best efforts, I wasn’t able to let go of a deep betrayal by a close friend and roommate who had caused traumatic events in my life through derogatory rumors, lies, and homophobic comments.

    When faced with the past, I practiced what Dr. Luskin describes as “decisional forgiveness.” I consciously forgave my offender without releasing the emotion attached the event.

    For years, I told myself that I had let go of those memories, but I never let go of the sting attached to them. This led to a temporary reduction in hostility. It was only much later that I realized I was living my present life through the lens of the past, filling in reality with incidents from my betrayal.

    If left unchecked, those frequent recollections of our betrayal/past pain can cause the incident to form a part of our identity.

    Instead, what Dr Luskin suggests is to “emotionally forgive.” This would require one to release the bitterness, shedding their perception of the offence and leaving it in the past.

    In most cases, it is only emotional forgiveness that creates long lasting change in one’s personal life and mental health.

    Emotional forgiveness, for many, is laborious, mainly due to the unrelenting desire to hold the offender accountable for what they’ve done. We’re hardwired to seek vengeance, or justice, misunderstanding it to be the only thing to bring us peace.

    Forgiving garners the narrative that the person “got away with the crime.”

    The real crime, however, is the fact that the resentment lives on in you, for months or years, festering in your psyche. The proverbial poison that you drink and expect your offender to die.

    Assessing your damage and releasing your long-held grudges has nothing to do with your offender, and therefore doesn’t require you to reconcile with them. Real forgiveness doesn’t require two people. It only requires you to take your attention off your offender, quite simply because energy flows where attention goes.

    Emotional forgiveness requires three steps.

    Grieve

    This happens when we openly recognize the hurt that we’re feeling. Reflect instead of reacting. Learn from the experience instead of writing it off through blame. It sometimes takes months to simply bring one’s attention to the ‘grief elephant’ in the room.

    Empathize

    An integral part of emotional forgiveness, as hard as it might be, is to cultivate empathy or compassion for the offender. I am reminded, most often, of the phrase, “hurt people, hurt people” It’s almost circular in nature, it denotes a balance. It brings me comfort to know we’re all in this eternal cycle of passing down our personal pains to another.

    The only way to break that cycle is something that our ego strongly resists. Empathy. Putting yourself in the perpetrator’s shoes, asking why they could have done what they did can help. This doesn’t justify their actions; instead ,it satisfies the mind’s need to understand. As Neale Donald Walsh writes, “In the mind of the master, understanding replaces forgiveness.”

    When you understand, you realize everyone, despite their best efforts, is a slave to their conditioned past.

    When you understand, you realize a person’s actions are hardly their own and they reacted the best way their ego knew how.

    When you understand, you realize the number of times you might have reacted the best way your ego knows how.

    Let go

    The final act requires you to release the attachment from your story, keeping the memory and the lessons of the incident without the negative emotion that comes with the memory.

    This can be hard because memories are always better conjured up when you remember how they felt.

    In letting the negative emotion go, you might be able to see the incident from an outside perspective; a picture without the fogginess of emotion provides more clarity. You might find that viewing a memory without the bitter emotions attached to it leads you to insight and wisdom.

    Letting go enables one to bow to the past without being bound to it. Next time you’re faced with forgiveness, you don’t think of the person that hurt you; instead, you think about yourself.

    When neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Taylor had a stroke at thirty-seven, she was tasked with rewiring her entire brain from scratch, including re-learning how to read and write. Despite this, she felt happier after the stroke because she says, “I couldn’t remember who I was supposed to be mad at.”

  • Having a Smart Brain Is Not Enough

    Having a Smart Brain Is Not Enough

  • How to Re-wire Your Brain for Better Relationships

    How to Re-wire Your Brain for Better Relationships

    “For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks; the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke

    I was eight years old when my father and I somehow ended up in a heated, verbal struggle. I don’t remember what we were fighting about, but I remember that he was yelling at me.

    I already knew by then that my father didn’t deal well with anger. It wasn’t uncommon for him to explode into fits of rage. I don’t know what I had done this time that had gotten him so upset, but I must have felt that he was being unfair. As he turned his back on me to walk away, I blurted out, “I hate you!”

    It’s not an uncommon thing for a kid to say in the heat of anger, because kids haven’t yet learned how to cope with strong emotions. If you’re a parent, you know what I’m talking about.

    My father didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t say anything to me at all for several days. He gave me the silent treatment. He ignored all of my attempts to get his attention or to try to reconnect with him. He acted as if I didn’t exist.

    I felt alone, sad, guilty, and scared. As you can imagine, for a child of eight, it was excruciating to be shut off from him. And that wasn’t the only time my dad punished me with silence.

    Obviously, my father wasn’t a good role model for helping me to deal with anger constructively. If he had been, he might have asked me what was upsetting me and would have helped me figure out my feelings. At the very least, he might have apologized for getting so angry.

    Instead, he responded in a way that was anxiety-provoking, guilt-inducing, and painful. His tendency to act in this way made an indelible impression on me and my nervous system that I have struggled with for much of my life. The message I got was clear: Anger is bad and dangerous to a relationship; it brings disdain, loss of approval, and abandonment.

    It’s not that my father didn’t love me. I know now that he loved me very much. But he had a really hard time managing his emotions. This came from his own early experiences in his family where he learned the very same thing that he ended up teaching me.

    During our volatile exchange, I’m sure something deep in his brain had gotten triggered and had gotten the best of him. Some old unprocessed feelings came up, and caused him to withdraw and shut down.

    At the time, he didn’t understand what kind of damage his reaction was causing. He was actually doing the best he knew how. Fortunately, he’s grown and changed a lot since then and so have I.

    But that kind of treatment affected the way my brain got wired. I grew up feeling anxious about feelings of anger. If I felt angry with someone important to me, I worried that if I spoke up or asserted myself, they would abandon me.

    In my adult relationships, any sign of conflict with a partner, friend, or authority figure made me scared that something bad would happen, that I’d be punished in some way, rejected, or abandoned. In romantic relationships, I worried that I would lose our relationship if anything challenging came up.

    As soon as anger arose in some way, my nervous system would respond as though I was in danger. I’d feel anxious and panicky. I’d question my feelings and inevitably I’d rationalizing away whatever was bothering me. I avoided the discomfort of honoring my emotions and talking to the other person about how I felt.

    My adult relationships followed a typical pattern: They would start out with a lot of happiness and excitement, but as they continued, I’d start to feel anxious, worried, unsure, especially whenever there was any sign of conflict. I felt conflicted about my feelings and had a hard time working with them.

    Every relationship has times when partners get angry or upset, and in healthy relationships, the partners can find a way to constructively deal with their emotions and talk it out with one another. But that was not a part of my software. I’d avoid having uncomfortable conversations, I’d repress my feelings, and I’d hide how I really felt.

    As a result, I would often wonder why I felt so disconnected to other people. I would keep busy with my work, school, going to the gym and other activities just so I wouldn’t have to slow down and feel my real feelings.

    Of course, none of this was apparent to me at the time. It was just how I’d been wired. It took many years before I understood what was going on.

    Eventually a skilled and compassionate therapist helped me see how much anxiety was affecting my experience, that I was shutting myself off from my certain feelings because they felt threatening. I had been taught that strong emotions–particularly anger—were dangerous and would result in abandonment and rejection.

    Now, many years later, I have a happy twenty-two-year marriage to my husband, Tim, and I’m a therapist, writer, coach, and speaker. Though I still sometimes feel that old wiring trying to take control, I’ve developed some skills to manage the anxiety or fear that can get stirred up when something is off between us or when conflict arises.

    I see many clients who struggle with similar issues in their relationships. They feel excited to start out with their new romance, but as the relationship goes on, they start to struggle, they feel disconnected, shut down, or they and their partners fight a lot, or respond in ways that don’t support the health of their relationship.

    They often ask me: why is this so hard?

    I’ve learned that, while our specific relationship problems may be different, the underlying issue for most of us is the same.

    At the core of our struggles, underneath many layers of conflict and complaints, is a fear of being emotionally present and authentic in our relationships. We’re afraid of truly expressing our feelings in a vulnerable way. We worry that the other person won’t like us or want to be with us if we tell them what’s really going on for us.

    But why are we afraid of being emotionally present in our relationships?

    The short answer is that—as you saw in the story about my dad and me—our adult brains are still operating on wiring that was created in the first few years of our lives. Depending on what our caretakers taught us about how to function in close relationships, we may have learned some unhealthy coping mechanisms.

    If you struggle with painful romantic relationships (or even troubled relationships in general) as I have, you may be experiencing the effects of “faulty wiring.” You may have learned ways to cope with your emotions that don’t serve you anymore.

    Luckily, there are ways to “re-wire” your brain for better relationships.

    The first step is to understand what you learned about expressing your emotions when you were a child. Take some time to respond to these questions (separately for each parent or caregiver):

    • How did your parent(s) respond to your feelings?
    • Were they generally open, attentive, and responsive to your feelings?
    • Did they get uncomfortable or anxious when you expressed your feelings or certain feelings in particular (e.g., anger, sadness, fear, joy, and the like)?
    • Did they get distracted or seem to ignore certain feelings?
    • Were some feelings okay and others not? If so, which feelings were welcomed, and which weren’t?
    • Did they get irritated, frustrated, or angry at times when you expressed certain feelings?
    • Did they apologize when they hurt your feelings or reacted in an unhelpful way?
    • How did they respond when you were afraid or feeling vulnerable?
    • How did they respond when you were angry and asserted yourself?
    • How did they respond when you were affectionate and loving?
    • Could you rely on them to be there for you emotionally when you needed them?
    • Overall, how did it feel for you to share your vulnerable feelings with them?

    Now think about whether your answers to these questions reminds you of your romantic relationships in any way. Do you ever see yourself acting in similar ways to one of your parents or caregivers when particular feelings arise in your relationship? Does your partner ever act in similar ways? If you’re in a relationship now and your partner is willing, ask them to answer these questions about their parents as well.

    See if you can identify any patterns in how you both share and react to different emotions in one another.

    If you’re not currently in a relationship, think about past relationships, especially particularly difficult ones.

    After you get a sense of what lessons you may have learned about how to express emotions (or not) with people close to you, you’ll be in a better place to learn new ways of reacting.

    Here are some tips for growing your capacity to be emotionally mindful and present when you get triggered by your feelings. .

    1. Recognize and name.

    When you feel a strong emotion, you may have been triggered by old wiring. You may feel out of control in your response, which is why some people say, “I don’t know what came over me!” when they get really upset.

    The first step in regaining control of your emotions is to learn to identify the ones that most often trigger you. Practice observing yourself when you feel those challenging emotions. Name them as they come up. You might even want to write down the emotions that are difficult for you to cope with. This step takes a lot of practice, but it gets easier the more you do it.

    2. Stop, drop, and stay.

    When we feel triggered, upset, and uncomfortable, we often want to escape that emotion. We may get irritable, yell or criticize, walk away, shut ourselves in our room, or numb ourselves out.

    But in order to practice being mindful of your emotions, you’ll need to learn how to stay with them and ride them out. Rather than doing what you normally do when you have those feelings, stop. Pay attention to how the emotion feels in your body. Describe it. Ask it what it’s there to teach you. You may even want to write or draw it so you can become familiar and comfortable with it.

    The point is to look at it, stay with, and learn about it.

    3. Pause and reflect.

    When we’re in a conflict, we often feel like there’s no choice between the time we feel the strong emotion (such as anger, rage, hatred, or fear) and our response to it (yelling, becoming violent, shutting down, or running away).

    But in reality, by stretching the space between the feelings arising and responding, we can create some room in which we can chose how best to respond.

    So, practice feeling the challenging emotion and not responding right away. If you normally lash out with an angry statement when your partner says or does something you dislike, practice doing something else. Tell your partner you need a moment. Breathe deeply and slowly which will help to calm your nervous system. Go for a walk. Whatever you need to do to calm your distress and choose a more helpful response.

    The more often you do this, the easier it will get to make better choices.

    In this space that you create, reflect on what you’re feeling underneath the reactivity. If you’re feeling like lashing out, what’s underneath that? If you’re angry that your partner forgot to call you on your birthday, is there more to it? Are you feeling hurt, disappointed, or afraid of losing a sense of connection with them? Does it feel familiar? Might it be linked to feelings you had when you were a child?

    Explore the emotion. Give yourself time to figure out what you’re really feeling, what you want, what you desire, and what you’d like to happen in that situation.

    4. Mindfully relate your feelings.

    Once you know what it is you’re really feeling and what you’d like to happen, try relating that in a calm and open way to your partner. If your partner forgot to call you, rather than yell that she doesn’t really care about you at all, maybe you can say, “I’m realizing that I feel hurt that you didn’t call me. I worry that you don’t really care about me. I would like to understand what happened.”

    This will help you and your partner connect with one another, open yourselves up to one another in a more authentic way, and share your true feelings and experiences. This way, you are less likely to fall into old patterns where you may trigger one another and cause each other pain.

    By being vulnerable, open, and unafraid to express your true self, you’ll connect better to your romantic partner and you can develop a better understanding of what you want in your relationship.

    I speak from experience. Once I learned how to better express my emotions and what they were saying to me, I decided that I wanted a partner who would be willing to do that as well. I made the painful decision to end a 5-year relationship I’d been in which was full of conflict and, on a deep level, I knew wasn’t all that I longed for.

    But in doing so, in listening to and trusting my feelings, I was able to move forward and eventually meet my husband, with whom I’ve found the space disentangle myself from my old wiring and have a healthier, satisfying relationship. To love and be loved like I mean it.

  • How Forgiving Yourself and Others Changes Your Brain

    How Forgiving Yourself and Others Changes Your Brain

    “Be quick to forgive, because we’re all walking wounded.” ~Anonymous

    People often behave in ways that we find irritating, annoying, or worse. This can happen especially with people close to us.

    They can speak with little consideration for the impact of their words. They can criticize us and pounce on our mistakes. Sometimes they do unfair things that seriously disadvantage or damage us. Or they let us down when we’re counting on them.

    All these behaviors can lead to us feeling wounded. The scars can persist for years or even decades. The closer the offenders are to us, the greater the impact tends to be.

    Most of us would like others to understand us, to act reliably, and to be approachable when things go wrong. We’d like them to be kind in dealing with our mistakes or offences. We’d like them to understand that we aren’t set in stone, that we aren’t just the sum total of our mistakes.

    We deserve a chance to recover and show our better side. We’d like them to be more understanding and put a more favorable interpretation on what we did or failed to do.

    However, it can be different when others behave badly. Often, we spend a lot of time and energy going over the way we were wronged, mistreated, disappointed, disrespected, or disregarded.

    Dwelling on the perceived wrong kindles the fire of a grudge. The more we dwell on it, the bigger this fire grows.

    Can this fire burn us?

    When I was in high school, some of the coolest kids formed a band. Everyone wanted to be in that band. I played the piano, so I too wanted to be in it.

    One of my closest friends also played the piano, but not as well. It became a bit of a tussle between us. I was chosen, to my delight.

    When we started playing gigs, a piano was not always available. So I took to the melodica, a little instrument into which you blow. It has a keyboard.

    We started playing gigs, with quite a good response from audiences. Everything was going well, until we were invited to play a gig in a venue right near my home.

    The melodica was at the band leader’s house, because we rehearsed there. I asked for it to be brought to the gig.

    On the evening of the gig, my bandmates turned up. Unfortunately, the melodica could not be found. Apparently, it had been brought to the venue by the band leader but had disappeared.

    This was a bitter blow. I had so looked forward to strutting my stuff before a home crowd. I rushed around to various people who might have a melodica, but could not find one.

    The gig happened without me. I was downcast.

    Eventually, the real story came out.

    The melodica had been brought to the venue. The close friend I mentioned, who also played the piano, had simply taken it away and hidden it.

    I was outraged. I felt betrayed, violated, and angry. I felt ready to run my friend over with a large truck.

    We didn’t speak for a couple of years. Then I got an apology of sorts. Somehow, things were never the same between us.

    I went off to medical school and our paths have never crossed since.

    What happens to your brain when you cling to a grudge?

    The parts of your brain that specialize in criticism grow more active. They feed on your thoughts about the grudge. The neurons involved lay down more connections, strengthening this response.

    The next time someone behaves in a way that you disapprove of, your brain more readily jumps to criticism and judgment.

    All that is understandable, you’re not alone in practicing criticism. But there’s a price to pay for this practice.

    The same parts of your brain that criticize others also criticize you. You tend to become more unforgiving about your own mistakes. Self-acceptance recedes. It becomes harder for you to like yourself.

    Further, this can lead to a cycle of mutual criticism between you and people who matter to you. It tends to weaken the supportive relationships we all need.

    A recent study among 5,475 men and 4,580 women aged over 50 showed that a single point increase in negative social support score resulted in a 31% rise in the risk of eventual dementia. Negative social support is where you experience a lot of critical, unreliable and annoying behaviors from others, especially people close to you.

    What can you do to start breaking this downward spiral of mutual criticism and self-criticism?

    First, ask what stresses or problems may have led to the undesirable behavior. Try to find explanations that weaken the impact of the “bad” behavior on your mind. This is as true for self-criticism as for criticizing others.

    Perhaps there were circumstances that led to you acting in regrettable ways. If you regret it, don’t wallow in the regret. Find explanations to understand why you did what you did.

    Give yourself the gift of forgiveness, strengthen your resolve to do what is good and important going forward, then move on. This same gift of forgiveness may be given to others, recognizing that all human beings are vulnerable to errors or even terrible behavior.

    Forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation with the offender. Reconciliation is the re-establishment of mutual trust. That requires a further step as part of negotiation.

    But forgiveness can proceed regardless of reconciliation and mutual trust.

    The more you practice understanding and forgiveness, starting with yourself, the more you strengthen the self-reassuring parts of your brain. These are the same parts that show empathy and compassion to others. They make you more accepting of yourself, with all your flaws and stumbles.

    We all have flaws and stumbles. That’s okay. It’s part of being human.

    If I could go back to my youth and replay my friend’s apology, I hope I would respond with more understanding. After all, if our positions had been reversed and I’d been blinded by envy, who knows what I might have done.

    For a better quality of life right now, with more self-acceptance, and for a lower risk of cognitive decline, try loosening your grip on grudges. And be gentle with yourself when you slip up in this effort. The steering wheel of your life often requires a little time, patience and practice before you can turn it reliably.

    I’m still practicing. That’s okay.

    Illustration by Kellie Warren. Find her on Instagram @kellistrator.

  • Train Your Mind: Overcoming Negative Thoughts Is Half the Battle

    Train Your Mind: Overcoming Negative Thoughts Is Half the Battle

    “Believe you can and you’re halfway there.” ~Theodore Roosevelt

    I could not find the bottom of the pool.

    The task seemed simple enough: Wearing no more than twenty pounds worth of gear, swim to the bottom of an eight-foot pool, remove your gear, and swim back up.

    My feet combed for something—anything—solid beneath me, to no avail. A shock of fear struck through my veins, clouding my head. Panic. I reached a point of sheer, utter, uncontrollable panic.

    Panic is an interesting beast. It is designed to trigger the flight-or-fight mechanism in the human body; it is for survival at all costs. Yet, it tends to override any form of rationality. So, with twenty pounds dragging me down into the depths, I attempted desperately to swim back up to the surface.

    In swimming, there are three places you can be, and only one of which is dangerous. The first is above water, where you can breathe. The second is on the bottom, where you can use momentum to push yourself up. The dangerous one is in between. In purgatory. This is where I found myself.

    I had not struggled with any aspect of training while at the U.S. Military Academy. I was not the smartest of the bunch, but I was a hard worker, and I was willing to sacrifice sleep; this earned me decent grades. I was not the strongest, but I was willing to put in work every day at the gym; this earned me good physical stamina.

    I had always heard about how everyone experiences a crucible event at the academy, during which they were stopped dead in their tracks and given two choices: give in, or do everything you can to claw and scratch your way to success. I, however, was complacent.

    Time slowed down as I fought tooth and nail to reach the surface. When people are drowning and in a state of panic, they do what is called “shelfing.” It is a fruitless attempt to push the water below them with their arms to get their head to air.

    I felt a moment of cold as my hand punched above the surface one last time, clawing for air, before my lungs began burning so badly that my body went limp. I watched the world around me begin to close to black. Pictures of my family and my life flipped across my thoughts like a film reel.

    Just as I began to lose consciousness, a shepherd’s hook was thrust in my direction, pulling me to the surface, where I quickly clutched the side of the pool, panting, my heart pounding in my throat. I looked up at my combat survival swimming instructor, my eyes swirling with fear.

    “Go in and do it again,” he said.

    From that point on, this course became the bane of my existence. I writhed with anxiety before each session. I continued not to pass the swim tests. The dark cloud of failure lingered over my head. This was a mandatory class. If I failed, it put my graduation in jeopardy.

    Here I stood, in the second semester of my junior year at West Point, with an enormous, unexpected mountain in front of me. This was my crucible. This was where I would rise or fall, and it would change the course of my existence.

    It is important to mention that at this point, I had failed every single “survival gate.” I started going to every extra help session I could, continuously attempting to retest. It all seemed futile because the moment I began to sink in any capacity, my mind went into overdrive, and the panic would set in. Once the panic set in, I was finished.

    Buddha once said, “Rule your mind or it will rule you.” I was in good physical shape. I knew how to swim. This was not a question of capability; it was a question of mindset. And I had to fix it.

    Up until this time in my life, I always used a brute force approach to challenges or adversities. I did not consider the mind as a muscle requiring growth and exercise, like the body. My mind had never acted against what my body and heart wanted to do. For the first time, I experienced uncontrolled thoughts that were influencing my actions.

    Every time I attempted to swim, as soon as my hips would begin to drop under or my head plunged beneath unexpectedly, my inner voice wailed, “It’s over. You are drowning.” Like clockwork, I would let my body become vertical, and I would sink beneath the surface, splashing desperately for the center ropes or the edge.

    Something had to change. The water absorbed brute force like it was nothing, and it was more than willing to swallow me into its depths, no matter how much I flailed. I had to find a different way to stop myself from panicking.

    I started small. I looked in the mirror before class and told myself, “You can do this. You are strong.” I played motivational songs before class. I made a deliberate attempt to get myself excited, while inside, my stomach was squirming with dread.

    Then one morning, while I was wearing my full kit and attempting to breaststroke across a twenty-five-meter lane, I felt my hips begin to sink. The flush of fear stung my cheeks, and my breathing became staggered.

    “You are drowning! You cannot do it!” the voice of panic screamed in my head. I felt my shoulders go under. Then I could no longer breathe.

    My eyes squeezed shut as my arms began to wave wildly. But, at that moment, my mind training seemed to kick in. “You are alright.” The small, timid words of reason attempted to push away the panic. “You can save yourself.”

    I stopped flailing. I brought my arms to my sides and allowed myself to sink all the way to the bottom of the pool.

    “You are okay.” I felt the bottom of the pool with my boots and pushed as hard as I could against it, sending myself shooting upwards. With a gasp of relief, my head burst out of the water, and I swam to the end. I met the lifeguard’s eye; he had been waiting by the edge of the pool, ready to act.

    “Hey, good job!” he told me with a smile. “You saved yourself!”

    This was the beginning of a change. I could learn to challenge the negative thoughts.

    From then on, when I swam with my gear, I repeated the mantra, “You are okay. You are okay.” When I jumped off the 6-meter diving board and plunged into the depths of the pool, I told myself, “You will make it.” When I slid down into the wave pool, headfirst, in my gear, clutching my rubber rifle to my chest, I said, “You will finish.”

    The swell of panic that consistently grew in me could be quelled by this quiet, steady focus that simply refused to give up. In the end, I retested every single survival gate multiple times and finally scored the minimum requirements to pass the class—on the very last day.

    This experience changed my outlook on life and myself. The mind is an incredible tool that you can train to accomplish amazing feats. It can be your worst enemy, or, with practice and understanding, your best weapon.

    It is vital to realize that everyone—you included—will go through a crucible in life. It will be a defining moment during which you teeter on the bridge between triumph and defeat, and you will have the choice. That choice and the choices you make every time you are faced with a hurdle will build the habits that ultimately will come to define how you will live your entire life.

    You cannot fully prepare for a crucible in life, no matter how much you try. It will sneak up on you, and it will grab you by the neck and pull you under if you let it.

    The key lies in your way of thinking. Every single time I got in the water, I was filled with a sensation of impending doom. My internal monologue told me of certain failure. However, you can change your inner voice. Make a deliberate effort to tell yourself a different story than the one that has been drowning you. Change the way you speak to yourself. When your mind is right, your actions can follow.

    This is not a story of becoming the most successful swimmer ever. I scraped by with a single mark above failing.

    This is a story of training your mind, and making the deliberate decision to fight the negative monologue that has overpowered you. Whether it be a crucible of health, school, physical activity, sports, or money, the first step toward overcoming is to convince yourself it is not only possible, but you will.

    The negative thoughts are next to impossible to fully stop. Instead, you must train your mind to answer them with stronger, more positive thoughts. Learn to trust yourself through positive self-talk. This is not a skill to learn in a single day, but you can train yourself before your crucible strikes.

    The best step you can possibly take for yourself at this very moment is to practice the subtle art of training your mind and thoughts. Meditate on it. When you hear yourself complaining, counter your negative thought with an empowering one. Smile more often, even when you do not feel like it. Feel your fears and doubts, but go for it anyways. Compliment yourself daily. Practice gratitude and mindfulness.

    Ask yourself the question, “Who do you want to be?” and use the answer to thwart any thoughts that keep you from becoming that person.

    You do not have to let yourself drown to find your mental strength.

  • How to Tame Your Inner Critic: A Simple Habit to Rewire Your Brain

    How to Tame Your Inner Critic: A Simple Habit to Rewire Your Brain

    “I acknowledge my own worth. My confidence is growing.” ~Unknown

    Sometimes I feel like a spider whose web is repeatedly torn down. I plan something and start taking action. Then life happens, and setbacks threaten to sap my energy and enthusiasm.

    Whenever I take on too much, I can feel as if I’m juggling a million balls. And doing it badly.

    You’ve probably seen T-shirts saying, “Things are a bit crazy around here.” That could easily describe me when I allow myself to become overloaded.

    It’s easy to feel stressed and to slip into harsh self-criticism. Especially when I hold myself to unrealistic perfectionism or get swept away by impatience. Or when I start comparing myself to others who seem to be in a better space.

    But all’s not lost. I love to keep learning. That keeps me hopeful about finding solutions, no matter what the problem.

    I keep identifying and adopting simple science-based actions that yield big payoffs for well-being. The simpler the practice, the more easily it fits into my busy life.

    So, what can be done when life gets too stressful and setbacks lead to harsh self-criticism?

    The Tug of War in Your Brain

    Until relatively recently, scientists believed that the brain could not develop beyond a certain age. The adult brain could not change, it was thought, apart from gradually shrinking from your late twenties onward. So, if your brain habitually criticized and demotivated you, then that was how you’d remain.

    That view is simply mistaken, as science has discovered. Your brain can develop, even during adulthood.

    There’s hope for us all, provided we start respecting ourselves enough to practice self-care.

    How would you like to start rewiring your harshly self-critical brain using a simple five-second habit? I’ll share a transformational habit I’ve adopted, but first let’s understand this a bit more. Once you understand why a practice works, it’s easier to make it part of your life.

    Stress and negativity do remarkable things to your brain. When stress overwhelms you enough to keep your mood constantly low, your brain starts to gradually change. The core component of your brain, the grey matter, grows less dense in some helpful parts of your brain. But it grows denser in some self-critical parts.

    It’s almost as if there’s a tug of war between these two parts. An overdose of stress weakens the helpful parts, allowing the self-critical parts to dominate.

    That’s the bad news. Fortunately, there’s good news.

    Your brain can keep developing, and the unhelpful changes can be reversed. You have “stem cells,” so named because they can develop into various types of new brain cells. Also, new connections can develop between the cells in your brain.

    You can encourage such helpful developments by the actions and thoughts you embrace. In effect, you can assist your brain to keep developing in a helpful way.

    Before I describe the simple but powerful five-second practice, there’s a story I want to share. It will help illustrate how the practice works.

    My Story

    I had once accumulated a lot of weight, was on statin treatment for high cholesterol levels, and couldn’t shed the excess weight despite regularly exercising. I attributed this to being over forty. I knew I was on a conveyor belt headed for a coronary bypass operation or heart attack and was keen to escape.

    Then a noticeably trim classmate from my medical school visited us and ate surprisingly small portions of some things but surprisingly large portions of others. They too were over forty years old. What did they know that I didn’t?

    Health and well-being are, to me, priceless treasures. People often destroy their well-being in desperate pursuit of material things. They can end up ill, sometimes forfeiting even the material things they craved.

    I didn’t want to be yet another person sleepwalking toward a heart attack. I decided to investigate the secrets of staying trim despite middle age. I was strongly motivated, and in a helpful way.

    There were many challenges. I needed to grapple with the scientific literature, to untangle the conflicting information about how to eat well.

    My other big challenge was that I love delicious food, especially when eating in company. I was wary of solutions that took all the enjoyment out of food, or tended to isolate me from friends and family.

    Eventually I found an approach that transformed my health for good, but the details are for another time. The point here is that I had many setbacks and failures along the way. Despite the setbacks, I succeeded in permanently reducing my waist circumference by several inches and no longer need the statin treatment.

    There’s one practice that helped me, more than anything else, to recover after setbacks. It’s so stupidly simple that its power easily can be underestimated.

    But it works, as long as it’s practiced consistently.

    I call it REBS. You’ll discover why.

    REBS Tames Your Harsh Inner Critic

    When I was a young child, I was fascinated by orderly lines of ants. I spent ages observing them and perversely enjoyed drawing a stick or finger across the line. That would confuse the ants, and chaos would ensue.

    However, in a little while, the line would form once again. The ants recovered and resumed doing what was important in their lives.

    Let’s say you decide that something is important in your life and you plan how to act accordingly. Perhaps, like me, you’re keen on avoiding a heart attack and you decide to start eating better. Let’s say you’re armed with the relevant knowledge and know exactly what to do.

    You start out enthusiastically, until a setback happens. Perhaps someone presents you with a box of your favorite chocolates.

    Before you know it the chocolates are somehow all out of the box and inside you. Within half an hour! Many people might consider that a triumph, but let’s say that you consider it a setback.

    This is a crucial moment. What do you do? Start criticizing yourself?

    What if, instead, you treat this setback as a temporary blip? You focus on resuming your journey of eating well. When you sit down for your next nourishing meal, you accept your stumble but congratulate yourself for getting back on track.

    Even when you don’t stumble and fall, you keep congratulating yourself for each small advance. Each nourishing meal, in this context, becomes a small triumph and an occasion for self-congratulation. Each half-hour without grazing on snacks becomes another small triumph and another occasion for self-congratulation.

    Imagine rewarding yourself for every small advance, with a quick self-congratulatory phrase. Especially when you get back on track after a setback.

    You can, in this way, create a steady stream of self-congratulation that is based on real advances. You don’t settle for empty words. Instead, you acknowledge and celebrate doing each small step, which carries you in your chosen direction.

    When your mind is busy with this reality-based self-congratulation, there’s less room for harsh self-criticism, or brutal perfectionism, or comparing yourself to others. You start to transform your self-image and self-confidence.

    I call this practice REBS, short for reality-based self-congratulation. It’s a rebellion against your harsh inner critic, who can otherwise be a demotivating tyrant. It helps the self-respecting part of you to prevail over the harshly self-critical part of you.

    You start to unleash the self-repairing power of your brain, even as you transform your self-image.

    Setbacks become an opportunity for you to recover and practice REBS. The more you do this, the harder it becomes for setbacks and stress to keep you down.

    Which self-congratulatory phrase could you use? The simplest is probably “I’m doing this, I’m okay.” Your “it” can be the smallest meaningful step imaginable, such as sitting down for a healthy meal.

    Keep this practice firmly based in reality, anchored to your small helpful steps. Then you’ll be able to do it meaningfully and with conviction. But do it at every opportunity, no matter how small your triumph.

    In summary: Take a meaningful small step, then treat yourself to a quick dose of REBS (reality-based self-congratulation). Repeat, and keep going.

    Suffered a setback? Pick yourself up, resume your journey with the next small step, and treat yourself to a quick dose of REBS.

    Is This Relevant to Other Situations?

    I used my experience with eating well as an example. But we could apply this to a wide variety of situations.

    If you feel worn out from taking care of others and have forgotten how to take care of yourself, then your small step can be as simple as listing your own needs.

    If you’re a recovering workaholic, then your small step can be as simple as taking a short walk, or meditating for a few minutes, or freeing up an evening for playful relaxation with your partner.

    If you’re a sales manager who’s just lost a big deal, then your small step can be as simple as identifying the next good prospect.

    If you’re a doctor or health care professional overwhelmed by the demands on your time, or complaints from patients, then your small step can be as simple as taking a short break to regain perspective and consider your options.

    If you’re a business owner trying to cope with unhelpful staff or business partners, then your small step can be as simple as choosing the most important points you want to communicate to them.

    If you’re scurrying around at work like a headless chicken, then your small step can be as simple as putting other tasks aside and focusing on just one important task in your long list.

    If you’re confused about some decision, then your small step can be as simple as listing your options, in order to consider the pros and cons before choosing.

    If you applied for a better job but didn’t get it, then your small step can be as simple as listing other opportunities.

    If you have a disabling illness, then your small step can be very small indeed. It might be as simple as getting out of bed, or walking a few paces without a stick, or contacting a friend.

    If you’ve had a bitter argument with your partner or child, then your small step can be as simple as reaching out with a gesture of reconciliation. And so on.

    You decide what actions are good, helpful and important in your life at this time.

    This practice can be applied in all areas of your life: personal, family and home life, community life, work life etc.

    The Payoff

    We all make unwise choices and experience setbacks. Your harsh inner critic can sometimes make you feel worthless and unlovable. REBS (reality-based self-congratulation) allows you to rebel against the tyranny of that inner critic.

    It reminds you that you’re always worthy of respect, love, and forgiveness. Even when you stumble—and especially when you stumble.

    Is this simple five-second practice the answer to all life’s problems and challenges? Of course not. Does your brain get rewired immediately? Of course not, it takes consistent practice. REBS needs to become a habit.

    Do you still have to decide what really matters to you, make plans, and solve problems? Of course you do.

    But REBS is a very useful companion on your journey. That’s because it takes almost no time, yet works powerfully to help you grow out of overly harsh self-criticism. You start to respect and take care of yourself.

    Instead of brooding over setbacks, you begin treating each setback as a springboard for small helpful steps, accompanied by self-congratulation.

    You become less easily discouraged. In a subtle way, you become almost unstoppable in pursuit of whatever you value deeply. Your perseverance starts to resemble that of determined ants who re-form a broken line, or of a spider who resumes spinning a destroyed web.

    Success is no longer confined to the distant future. Instead, it starts to inhabit each meaningful small step that you take in your chosen direction.

    You start to rewire your brain. Your inner critic starts to transform into a helpful cheerleader. Instead of a constant stream of negative self-talk, you start to enjoy a steady flow of self-congratulation.

    Your confidence grows, and your life starts to become more meaningful, fulfilling and joyful.

    This practice of reality-based self-congratulation (REBS) costs virtually nothing. It requires only consistency, so that the helpful new neurons and connections in your brain become well established.

    A surprising benefit is that REBS pulls me into the present moment. Instead of brooding over past failures or fearing future uncertainties, I focus increasingly on a small step that carries me in my chosen direction.

    REBS has helped transform my life. I have a clearer head and feel more at peace, others often remark that I’m now much more fun to be with, and I’m better off in almost every way. Despite all my flaws and the frequent, inevitable setbacks of life, I’m constantly reminded that I’m okay.

    Simple science-based practices with outsize benefits appeal to me because I’m so busy. REBS is one of my favorites among the life-enriching practices I’ve tried and adopted. I love how the practice can be started straight away, and become a treasured, self-empowering part of life.

    Conclusion

    Whatever the setbacks or failures you’ve experienced, whatever unhelpful choices you’ve made, you’re still okay, you’re always worthy of respect and love.

    We all need a bit of understanding and mercy. REBS turns you into a more forgiving and encouraging friend to yourself. It lets the seeds of success be planted in the soil of defeat.

    It helps reduce the chaos of a challenging life to a helpful small step, accompanied by self-congratulation.

    You might want to start this five-second practice and make it a habit. You could start right away and experience the difference.

  • Follow Your Heart but Take Your Brain with You

    Follow Your Heart but Take Your Brain with You

    Follow your heart

    Source: Spirit Science

  • The Introvert’s Brain: Why They Might “Think Too Much”

    The Introvert’s Brain: Why They Might “Think Too Much”

    Brain

    “Only those who care about you can hear when you are quiet.” ~Unknown

    I find it difficult to be understood. I seem to frequently create complexity out of something that is perhaps very simple and straightforward to others.

    For example, going to a movie. For many people, it would be “choose a movie, choose a time, choose a cinema” and there you go.

    For me, I check movie reviews, all possible timings, in all possible cinemas. For each timing and location, I will consider if the timing allows other things to be done before and after the movie, and whether the location has sufficient food and shopping options. All else being equal, the location with the cheapest parking fees wins.

    Yes, I take a long time to decide on a movie outing, and more on issues with much bigger consequences in life.

    In the recent years, I have had to make some rather big decisions about my life, on career and family. Judging from the process I go through to make a decision on a movie, you can imagine the epic journey I went through for each big decision.

    My brain had a field time linking every single option to different possible outcomes. Even issues that were once unlinked would somehow be connected to one another the more my brain was allowed to think. And after that, my brain took the liberty of developing Plan A, Plan B, and even Plan C for each scenario.

    Naturally, with such a repertoire of scenarios, my brain went round and round as it tried to take care of even the worst-case scenario.

    There is a saying that if you cannot do much about something, there is no point worrying about it. But I always feel that I can do something. I can mitigate the impact of bad outcomes if I take careful calculated actions—that is why I think, I plan, then I do. Only when the worst-case scenario could be taken care of would I be ready.

    To reach that stage, it took months (if not years). If I tried to explain to a select few friends that I trusted, I found myself bringing up the intricacies of each carefully-devised thought, fear, hope, and plan.

    Most of the time, I would elicit a response like “You think too much” or “Don’t be so pessimistic” or “Be more positive.”

    Perhaps the one that I dreaded to hear most was “be happy.” I was trying to be happy—I was taking charge of the difficult issues in my life, but in the process of sharing my elaborate thought process, it seemed to people that I was the one creating unhappiness for myself.

    In the end, I shut up.

    Perhaps it was my fault that I could not articulate my thoughts better. Perhaps I was too long-winded; people generally do not have the patience to listen to the epic journey in my brain. Perhaps they disagreed with some parts of my assumptions, or could not understand the situation sufficiently to appreciate my fears and concerns.

    Whatever the possible reasons, I did not want to be discredited for my thoughts and feelings. The epic journey had been too arduous to be brushed aside with “don’t think so much.”

    In a way, I wish I could stop that intricate elaborate deep-thinking process. I envy those who can just be happy-go-lucky, not think much, just do and deal with whatever consequences may come. However, science has shown that the brain is wired differently for introverts and extroverts.

    German psychologist Hans Eysenck found that introverts have naturally high cortical arousal and may process more information per second. They get overwhelmed and tired quickly in environments with a lot of stimulation, such as a loud restaurant.

    Positron emission tomography (PET) scans showed that introverts had more blood flowing in their frontal lobes and anterior thalamus, regions of the brain that recall events, make plans. and solve problems.

    It looks like I cannot help it, since I am born with this brain.

    With such a brain, all life experiences play a big part to stimulate and shape thoughts. Childhood, adolescent, social interactions, work, family—everything.

    As an introvert thinks, s/he connects all the dots, linking past and present experiences much more than extroverts would.

    Let’s say we have an introvert, born to a loving and nurturing family, who has close-knit friends and relatives and a cooperative work environment. And we also have one who is not. Which one is more likely to develop positive linkages and hopeful thoughts when forming their outlook in life?

    I guess I have come to accept that even good friends may not be able to understand me. Or they might label me as “the one who thinks too much” and has a high dose of pessimism. They may even start to stay away from me, as conventional wisdom advises that one should surround himself with positive and optimistic people.

    But I want to question: Do we just dismiss people because they appear “unhappy people” or “pessimistic people” at a point in time? Are they lesser beings just because they find it difficult to handle life as optimistically as others? Everyone has a story. At any point in life, maybe your story is happier than someone else’s.

    Let me illustrate using examples from some of my favorite animated movies.

    Mr Carl Fredricksen in the movie Up would be dismissed as a grumpy old man who offered no smile or generosity to even a little wilderness explorer. But he was not always unhappy. He happily fell in love and married, but lost the love of his life and his motivation when his wife passed away.

    Elsa the ice queen in the movie Frozen would be dismissed as cold-hearted and aloof, but what would you expect of a young girl who grew up locked up in a room because she nearly killed her baby sister and was deemed dangerous by her parents?

    Marlin the over-anxious father in the movie Finding Nemo was happily married and about to be the father of 400 children. Then a barracuda showed up, killed his wife, and ate all but one of the babies. The one baby that survived was born disabled. After carefully raising Nemo and letting Nemo attend school, the kid was immediately kidnapped by a human. Can you blame Marlin for his anxiety?

    Take heart though, those who truly care will know how to reach out.

    Mr Fredricksen, Elsa, and Marlin could have remained as they were had it not been for Russell (little wilderness explorer), Anna (Elsa’s sister), and Dory (the blue fish memorably voiced by Ellen DeGeneres) respectively.

    They cared enough to stick by their miserable companion/sister, to encourage and give support. They offered a different perspective to gently draw their friend out of their fears and doubts.

    I had always believed that only another introvert can understand and care for another introvert. But I am wrong. Russell, Anna, and Dory were extroverts and optimists.

    Although they might not have fully comprehended their introverted friends, they cared enough to never stop reaching out. I realize these are cartoon characters, but I’ve known Russells, Annas, and Dorys in my life and I appreciate and cherish them.  There are not many, but a few truly kind and caring friends are good enough for introverts.

    If you have had similar experiences as me, we should stop beating ourselves up for “thinking too much.” Whether we are blessed or cursed by our deep-thinking brain, we have to live with it and harness its strength.

    We are naturally empathetic and will be the ones that best offer comfort and support when others are down. What we say or do, we have thought through carefully. We are trusted for our steadiness and thoroughness, and ability to understand complexities.

    Yes, we can become more self-aware and accept that we have the natural tendency to go very deep. With that awareness, we can develop control over our brains to push ourselves to the surface once we have gone a little too deep.

    We can make miracles if we adapt these abilities to a world where extroverts are in the majority.

    In fact, they say the best teams comprise of an introvert and an extrovert (e.g. Apple’s Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, and Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg and Sheryl Sandberg) due to complementary strengths and weaknesses. And let’s not forget Albert Einstein, Mahatma Gandhi, Bill Gates, Abraham Lincoln and Warren Buffett who are famous for their powerful introverted brains.

    On my part, I have learned to control how much I share, to control my tendency to articulate the epic journey of my decision-making process, lest I attract a “you think too much” remark.

    I have learned to be comfortable with the brain processes I have, and not feel the need to always justify my thoughts and decisions. Less is more, for people who cannot, will not try to understand us. And if anyone cares enough, they can hear even if we are quiet.

    Brain image via Shutterstock

  • 4 Mistakes That Are Built into Your Brain

    4 Mistakes That Are Built into Your Brain

    Thinking Brain

    “Cognitive bias is the biggest self-imposed obstacle to progress, not only for oneself but in the end, for all mankind.” ~Unknown

    On a beautiful Pittsburgh morning in 1995, McArthur Wheeler decided to rob a bank. Not just one bank, but two. McArthur had a secret plan, one that he thought would make him exceptionally successful. It involved something very sour, a lemon.

    McArthur had just recently discovered the “invisible ink,” a substance commonly used in elementary science class. Lemon juice, when used as ink on paper and dried, only appears visible when heated. Unfortunately for McArthur, his ingenious plan involved covering his face in lemon juice and then robbing two banks.

    The fact that his face was not made of paper didn’t discourage McArthur from employing his reasoning that some lemon juice on his face would make him invisible to all the surveillance cameras.

    Unsurprisingly, several hours after the two robberies McArthur was in custody. To his astonishment his plan was unsuccessful. He even objected to detectives, “But I wore the juice.”

    Although most of us have never been this ignorant, our lives are still full of examples of ignorance. Whether we want to acknowledge it or not, some mistakes just never go away.

    I have personally struggled with my own mistakes throughout my life. Not because I am scared of them, but rather because I seem to keep encountering the same problems. How can I make the same mistake over and over again? Am I just stupid? Why don’t I see other people making the same mistakes?

    We all know that we need to approach these errors as learning opportunities, but that is much easier said than done.

    The truth is that some of these mistakes are built into our brains. We are programmed by birth to make cognitive shortcuts. These are quick jumps in our thinking that often leave us making poor judgments and even worse, faulty decisions.

    Let me explain.

    Our brains are remarkably wondrous things that have evolved for one simple reason—survival. They have morphed into supercomputers that can take the unending sea of information in the world and make it simple. To be conscious of even a small percentage of all the information that our brains take in would be blinding.

    Instead, our brains take in everything and only stream the information that fits within our model of the world. This is referred to as “mental accounting.” A good accountant doesn’t bore you with every detail of the process, but rather gives you the final product, which you care about. Our brains work the same.

    Why Are We Always Right and Everyone Else Is Wrong

    Have you ever had an argument with someone so frustrating you wanted to smash your head on the wall? Other people’s biases are always ripe for judgment, but rarely do we afford ourselves with the same pleasure. The brain is biased toward protecting our own beliefs and avoiding contradictory information.

    If your beliefs are like a house, you must support your structure. You can’t go digging around the foundation looking for inconsistencies or contradictory beliefs. We have a vested interest in ignorance, which makes us naturally resistant to seeing our mistakes. Instead, we often try to justify our decisions and prove to others they are wrong.

    Seeing Your Mistakes Is a Recipe for Growth and Clarity

    Acknowledging your mistakes is a powerful method for seeing how easily we are influenced and biased. Looking at our decisions will provide clarity and create compassion for others around us.

    Today we’re going to look at four mistakes we make in our daily living. These are wired into us; if you look hard enough you’ll see them everywhere.

    Confirmation Bias – Why We Always Need To Be Right

    Last week I was arguing with my girlfriend about something that I later realized was trivial and inconsequential. We had both entrenched ourselves in our opinions on the matter, and before we knew it we were shooting off a list of examples and reasons why the other party was wrong and we were both right.

    This is the bias that makes arguing with people really annoying. Why? Because most people think they know what they are talking about. The problem is you also think you know what you are talking about.

    So what usually happens when you encounter this dilemma? Naturally, the next logical step is assuming that they are either a) unfair/stupid/biased/illogical, or b) purposely being stubborn.

    How can they not see the clear, impeccable logic of my argument and see that I am clearly correct?!

    This is a slippery slope, and chances are both of you are suffering from the confirmation bias. We look for confirmation of our beliefs/philosophy or opinion in any context or situation. We find scenarios that support it and then stick to those, regardless of how terrible our argument may be.

    Calling someone “closed minded” would be a manifestation of the confirmation bias. The confirmation bias is so fundamental to your development and your reality. We look for evidence that supports our beliefs and opinions about the world, but excludes those that run contrary to our own. Confirmation bias is the support structure that holds our beliefs into place.

    You find examples of what you want to believe and ignore those that don’t fit.

    Sunk Cost Fallacy – Why You Just Can’t Give Up on Things You Should Give Up On

    When I was younger I got myself stuck in a long five-year relationship that I knew deep down was an absolute waste of time. We were not right for each other and on two totally different trajectories in life, but I still persisted. I kept thinking we had already spent so much time together, how could I possibly quit now?

    This is the sunk cost fallacy, when we use past decisions to justify irrational current decisions. Basically, we justify putting more time/effort/money into something because we have done so in the past, despite the fact that evidence indicates continuing the decision will outweigh future rewards.

    Sound familiar? We can see it everywhere. From business to our love lives none of us are safe from this pervasive little mistake. Sunk cost isn’t just a hyper persistent behavior, but rather persistence in the face of certain overwhelming evidence of potential future failure.

    Money isn’t the sole factor that can escalate levels of commitment. Any form of pressure may contribute to an irrational level of commitment. Social pressure or psychological pressure are also powerful escalators.

    Think of a relationship, one that you shouldn’t be in. I’m sure many of you have experienced that. How many times have you seen two people together and thought why the hell are they together? It’s pretty hard to pull the plug on something that you’ve spent so much time in, especially if you still hold an irrational hope that things will change.

    The same goes with a job that you’ve done for years. You feel hesitant and scared to try something new. You’ve already spent so much time working hard; you can’t just leave now.

    Fundamental Attribution Error – Why We Judge So Quickly

    The driver in front of me is so slow. What is he or she doing? It must be an elderly person who can’t even see over the steering wheel. You increase your speed and catch up beside them wanting to satisfy your curiosity with a glance into the passenger window. You are surprised to find a young women talking on her cell phone.

    It works like this: John is late, so therefore, John is inconsiderate and always late.

    A small observation (regardless of how inaccurate it is) leads to a wide generalization. All further judgments are fixed with that label. Assigning fixed states or characteristics due to singular events is an automatic process that we use to simply the world.

    The world is a complicated place, and the amount of sensory and social stimuli that our brains have to process is beyond our comprehension. This is the brain’s way of categorizing things, very fast and very inaccurately.

    I know you are probably thinking of how unfair this is. Fairness is not an issue when faced with our intrinsic need to create a world that is both safe and controlled.

    We want to make things understandable and safe, and consequently, easier to assign blame. Attributing failure to personality causes, as opposed to situational causes, is a wonderful way to accomplish this.

    The truth is there is no way we can understand a fraction of the events that contributed to an event occurring; most of the time it’s simply pure speculation. Believing that things are tidy and neat satisfies our need to see the world as fair and encourages the illusion that we have control.

    The fundamental attribution error is more than just judging a book by its cover; it’s represents a fundamental need to see the world as simple and easily understandable.

    Availability Heuristic – Why You Never Consider the Long Term

    I recently decided to wear a helmet while biking. I had never done this before, but after seeing a local news article about an accident I figured now would be a good time to start.

    As I get older my ability to forget things has continued to amaze me. Time spent with friends and relatives seem to blur. Annual events come by and I am left shocked, thinking that I was in the same place at the same time last year doing the same thing. It somehow feels close and yet far away at the same time.

    Our memory isn’t optimized to remember things in the past in incredible detail and clarity. We are biologically wired for the now. Our survival instincts have evolved to be hyperactive pattern detection machines that focus on the here and now.

    Our vast experience and history is not automatically factored into our decision making process, rather we weigh our judgments to the present information. This is the availability heuristic; we overly value recent events over past events.

    Good decision-making means using past experience and knowledge as a reference point for future decision-making, rather than using whatever random information you have recently encountered to form a decision. However, availability bias skips this step.

    Why is it so hard to think clearly when you are emotional?

    The answer is simple. Anything that is vivid, unusual, or packed with emotional latent material is given first class priority by our brains.

    These upgraded passengers are pretty big and may even require an extra few seats on the plane, much to the chagrin of our more rationally minded smaller passengers. Decisions made in a more rational state of mind are quickly forgotten when an emotionally charged situation arises.

    That’s why the ol’ walk around the block once and cool off trick usually works.

    Bottom Line

    These are just four of the many systemic mistakes that are built into our brains. Remember they aren’t evil or necessarily bad; in many cases they are necessary for healthy living. However, they do represent a fundamental method for simplifying the world and making it more understandable.

    I think the biggest takeaway from these four mistakes is that understanding them builds compassion. Understanding others needs to start on an individual level—understanding yourself. Knowing how easy it is to make these kinds of mistakes allows us to be more compassionate when seeing others encounter the same issues.

    What are the mistakes you find yourself constantly making? Drop a comment and let us know.

    Thinking brain image via Shutterstock

  • A 4-Minute Animated Video Course on Training Your Brain for Happiness

    A 4-Minute Animated Video Course on Training Your Brain for Happiness

    If your brain is very unhappy, like Brody, who’s full of fear and self-doubt, take a few minutes to watch this cute little video. Happiness can be quite simple when we learn how to train our brain.

  • Dear Brain

    Dear Brain

    Dear Brain

    Source: NotSalmon.com

  • Silencing Your Lizard Brain: Stop Feeling Pressured and Inadequate

    Silencing Your Lizard Brain: Stop Feeling Pressured and Inadequate

    Holding Head

    “Serenity comes when you trade expectations for acceptance.” ~Unknown

    Damn lizard brain, I hate you sometimes. Why do you always have this thirst for more? Why must you have such impossibly high expectations for everything?

    It’s good to have standards, but when is it too much?

    Things can be going great for me and I could have the entire world love me, yet it wouldn’t be enough.

    I still wouldn’t be happy even every human on Earth left me a voicemail to tell me I’m wonderful. Instead, I’d be wondering how everyone got my number.

    Why is it never enough? It’s because the moment it slows down, my lizard brain is going to eat at me again. It always wants more.

    My mind needs to be constantly bombarded with success and pleasure.

    It will tell me I’m not good enough; it will tell me how I should probably just give up, because what’s the use if I’m not constantly getting results?  

    Yesterday, I had around ten new people follow me on Twitter, six new people subscribe to my newsletter, and over twenty new comments on an article. Today, I had only four more people follow me, several others unfollow, no new newsletter subscribers, and two new comments.

    Lizard brain, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t beat yesterday’s achievements.

    The problem with this is that I set high expectations in at least 10,000 areas on a daily basis. This is draining because it is unrealistic to be able to hit all those marks and exceed all the time.

    This adds up and really affects my happiness, because there are these expectations I feel I have to meet.

    Over the years, I’ve noticed this about myself and try my best to stop my lizard brain during its peak hours.

    You probably have an annoying lizard brain too. It’s the part of you that controls you, makes you afraid, and pushes you because it says you’re a failure.

    If your lizard brain is bothering you, here are some reminders that might help:

    You can’t always win.

    I have to constantly remind myself it is simply impossible to always beat yesterday’s achievements. Think about it. If you land on the moon today, what are the odds of you going to Mars tomorrow?

    Celebrate your victories from today and don’t worry about the next day. You can worry about going to Mars maybe a month from now. You already made it to the moon, relax.

    Celebrate and truly appreciate your accomplishment.

    Besides, you can’t always win. So even when you fall just remind yourself you’re growing and you’re a work in progress. Use your failure as a motivator or a marker for where you need to be.

    You can’t always win. Accept that.

    Stop comparing.

    “The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.” ~Steve Furtick

    Steve Furtick’s quote is gushing with truth. We often compare ourselves to others’ achievements and then we beat ourselves up.

    Well, chances are we’re all just comparing our weakest moments to everybody else’s strongest. See how ridiculous that is?

    You can’t possibly outshine everyone’s highlight reel. You have your own highlight reels too, but they’re not always playing. Stop comparing yourself to others because that is a sure way to feel dissatisfied.

    What you can do instead is focus on your own highlight reels and then work on your behind-the-scenes by learning from them.

    Eventually, others will be in awe at your highlight reels and they won’t even notice when you’re not at your best. It’s okay to slow down every now and then because not every day has to be breaking new ground.

    Don’t let the journey bring you down or the end of the path won’t be as great as it could have been.

    Remind yourself that no one cares.

    This is a harsh truth, but in reality, no one cares. No one will realize how many times you’ve failed or every time you smile funny. Everyone else is the protagonist in his or her own story and you’re just a side character.

    When you remind yourself that you’re not in the center of the universe and not everything revolves around you, things get easier.

    This may be the hardest part for me. For some reason, I always feel like all eyes are on me and that every micro-movement will be noted by literally everyone in the room and eyes will be rolled as I adjust my leg positions. “Ugh, who does Vincent think he is? Sitting all cool like that…”

    See how ridiculous that is? I highly doubt thirty people are constantly watching me for as little as a leg twitch. Chances are people just don’t care or are too busy with their own problems.

    Keep reminding yourself that others have things going on too. You’re not the protagonist in their book; they are.

    Meditate.

    When I’m meditating, my lizard brain just does what it wants, but I act as the detached observer. I let it talk but I don’t interact. I watch it babble on and on as I crack a smile, because when I meditate, I no longer care.

    Then I take it to the next level by focusing in on my breath. I make sure that the only thing I’m worrying about is breathing. My lizard brain doesn’t have anything on me now because it slowly starts to fade away.

    There are tons of extensive guides on how to meditate. Pick a method that seems interesting to you and try it out. You can be the detached observer or the silencer.

    What do you do to silence your lizard brain?

    Photo by Gibson Regester

  • Book Giveaway and Interview with Rick Hanson: Develop a Buddha Brain

    Book Giveaway and Interview with Rick Hanson: Develop a Buddha Brain

    Update: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen. Subscribe to Tiny Buddha for free daily or weekly emails and to learn about future giveaways!

    The Winners:

    I read a lot of books about mindfulness; this was by far one of my favorites. In his book Just One Thing: Developing a Buddha Brain One Simple Practice at a Time, Rick Hanson offers practical, daily practices, backed by the latest in brain research, to help us avoid stress, improve our mood, enjoy life more fully, and develop emotional resilience.

    This is not merely a book of mindfulness exercises; it’s a guide that helps us rewire our brains for increased happiness and overall well-being. I highly recommend Just One Thing to anyone who’s felt overwhelmed by disempowering, negative thoughts.

    The Giveaway

    To enter to win 1 of 2 free copies of Just One Thing:

    • Leave a comment below.
    • Tweet: RT @tinybuddha Book Giveaway & Interview with Rick Hanson: Develop a Buddha Brain http://bit.ly/rW3u3N

    If you don’t have a Twitter account, you can still enter by completing the first step. You can enter until midnight PST on Sunday, December 11th.

    The Interview
    1. Your work is based on the idea that meditation and mindfulness can change the brain. Can you expand on this?

    Actually, I’d put this a little more broadly: my work—and that of many other scholars and clinicians—is grounded in the general fact of “experience-dependent neuroplasticity,” which is the capacity of mental activity to change neural structure.

    For example, researchers studied cab drivers who must memorize London’s spaghetti snarl of streets, and at the end of their training their hippocampus—a part of the brain that makes visual-spatial memories—had become thicker: much like exercise, they worked a particular “muscle” in their brain, which built new connections among its neurons.

    Similarly, another study found that long-term mindfulness meditators had thicker cortex in parts of the brain that control attention and tune into one’s body.

    In the saying from the work of the Canadian psychologist, Donald Hebb: “neurons that fire together, wire together.”

    Fleeting thoughts and feelings leave lasting traces in neural structure. Whatever we stimulate in the brain tends to grow stronger over time.

    A traditional saying is that the mind takes the shape it rests upon. The modern update would be that the brain takes its shape from whatever the mind rests upon—for better or worse. The brain is continually changing its structure. The only questions are: Who is doing the changing: oneself or other forces? And are these changes for the better?

    In this larger context, my focus is on how to apply these new scientific findings: how to use the mind to change the brain to change the mind for the better—for psychological healing, personal growth, and (if it’s of interest) deepening spiritual practice. I’m especially interested in: (more…)

  • Be Good to Yourself: It’s Not You, It’s Your Brain

    Be Good to Yourself: It’s Not You, It’s Your Brain

    Update: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen! Subscribe to Tiny Buddha for free daily or weekly emails and to learn about future giveaways!

    The winners:

    “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”
    ~Buddha

    If you had met me at a party a decade or so ago, I’m sure you would have walked away with the impression I was a bit of a miserable and pessimistic person. I would have happily pointed out to you how much my well-paid job sucked, how stressed I was, and how unfair life was.

    And your impression of me would hardly have been elevated if you had been able to hear the conversations that were going on inside my head.

    I was giving myself a hard time most of the waking day. Every sale I closed meant I was lucky, and every sale I lost proved I was an idiot. And on the rare occasions I wasn’t blaming myself I was blaming everybody else for my inability to be content and happy with my life.

    Do you know there are over twice as many words in the English language for negative emotions and feelings than there are for positive ones? And that’s not exclusive to the English language either because it cuts across all languages and all cultures.

    You could hear that and be forgiven for thinking that human beings are a miserable, pessimistic lot at heart, but there’s actually an excellent reason for the imbalance.

    As a species we have been sharing this planet with all sorts of creatures that can eat, sting, bite, and even electrocute us for the best part of 200,000 years.

    That’s only really changed in the last few hundred years with the explosive growth of mankind. The accompanying deforestation and expanding urbanization wiped out or marginalized entire species that may have previously posed a danger to our existence.

    As well as having to be wary of nasty creatures with big pointy teeth we also had to ensure we did not bump into enemy tribes or annoy our tribal elders or peers and risk a lowering of our status.

    The brain thinks status is crucial to its survival because tens of thousands of years ago it was status that decided whether you got to stay in the tribe, who (or if) you could marry, and generally how secure and happy you were.

    These days somebody unfollowing you on Twitter can be seen by your brain as a decrease in status, as can be being turned down for a date or losing an online role playing game. As such your brain can create a dopamine crash, and that’s why those things tend not to feel good. (more…)