Tiny Buddha

Tag: connection

  • The Science of Happiness: 9 Feel-Good Tools to Boost Your Mood

    The Science of Happiness: 9 Feel-Good Tools to Boost Your Mood

    “Remember, being happy doesn’t mean you have it all. It simply means you’re thankful for all you have.” ~Unknown

    I remember sitting on the New York City subway, tears streaming down my face, armed with valium and lithium along with other antidepressants that my psych had just prescribed.

    I was desperate, in that cave I had come to know as depression. Dark, hopeless, fearful depression. The cold metal seat of the subway made me feel raw and exposed. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t stop crying. I was panicked that I would be like this forever.

    That was an example of one time in my life. Yeah, I got over it. And there were other episodes of this beast. I gradually became sick and tired of being sick and tired.

    I remember the day. I had been in depression again, and from what seemed like nowhere I started to feel the light of gratitude. I was actually feeling grateful! And it felt so very good! I knew I could start to think and feel differently.

    Then and there I finally vowed to find out how to bring happiness into my life on a consistent basis. Sure, there would be the hard times, but my goal became to live my life in the most positive way I could. I discovered that happiness is an inside job and a process. There is a science to being happier. And I’m here to tell you, it can be done.

    Maybe you’ve never been that down. I hope not. But if you’re feeling low or blue, there is help for you.

    So let’s look at the science of happiness.

    Sonia Lyubormirsky and colleagues have discovered that we can actually raise our happiness levels. According to their research, 50% of our happiness is genetic, hardwired, we are born with a happiness set point. This might explain why your sister is always happy, while you struggle to make it through a day at times. Unfortunately, this set point cannot be changed.

    The next thing to consider: 10% of our happiness is due to life circumstances—our gender, our age, where we grew up, our occupation, significant events in our lives, whether we are married or single, etc.

    For instance, you might think that having more money or having that new car would make you happier, but it only would make you happier up to a point. Then the effect of “hedonic adaptation” takes over. That is the tendency we all have to get used to what we have, causing our happiness levels to go back to the way they were before we got that “new thing.”

    If you’re worried about survival, then having enough money would be critical. But studies show that the rich aren’t any happier than the rest of us. In fact, it’s been reported that they claim they have more headaches and worries. Again, happiness is an inside job.

    Now the good news: 40% of our happiness is left for intentional activity. This is where we have choice. We can change and manage our state of mind. This 40% is where we have control over our happiness levels. We may not be able to change our set point, but we can change our happiness levels! It’s up to us.

    There are many things we can do as intentional habits. We can practice acts of kindness, learn to forgive, connect with others, take care of our bodies (through both physical activity and meditation)—and these are just a few.

    One of the best places to start is with a daily gratitude practice. Write down three things that make you grateful daily. Choose different things each day. Write down why they make you grateful. The why is very important.

    Studies done in corporations like Google have shown this practice increases positivity levels. Make this a daily intentional practice. It may seem corny at first but, hey, science has shown that it works. Guaranteed to change your mindset.

    There is a whole science to happiness, and it consists of daily, (what I like to call), “happiness hygiene habits.” You do these things like you brush your teeth. They keep your happiness levels higher. You choose what works best for you and you make it a daily practice.

    For instance, Harvard Health Publishing has reported that moving your body, be it exercising, walking, dancing, or practicing yoga, has in most cases been as effective as an antidepressant. Low intensity exercise sustained over time spurs the release of proteins called neurotrophic or growth factors, which cause nerve cells to grow and make new connections. The improvement in brain function makes us feel better.

    Back when I was so down, I had an insight and realized that if I wanted to have better days I was going to have to do for myself. I was going to have to understand what helps me change my mindset from negative to positive.

    Happiness isn’t something you go after and then once you get it, you have it for good. It’s an ongoing process of daily maintenance using the tools that the science of happiness has uncovered. 

    Some of these tools:

    1. Setting realistic, achievable, and personally significant goals has given me a purpose.

    My goals become projects that inspire and excite me. I set intrinsic goals versus extrinsic goals. These pursuits make me happier and keep me young. I no longer set goals about money, ego, or power. I value and truly “own” my goals; they are not handed down by what society dictates or what my parents, neighbors, or anyone else externally thinks are worthy

    2. Savoring positive moments has become a real source of joy.

    When I find a sunrise with a glowing moon that is awesome, I hold onto that awe and revel in it. Catch the beauty, savor the positive.

    3. Connecting with people can make a huge difference.

    Reaching out to good friends, (even when I don’t want to) has helped me stay more connected and therefore more content.

    4. Sharing with a close friend what’s going on in my life helps to take the weight off my shoulders and I get to share my secrets.

    You’re only as sick as your secrets. Sharing is caring. Listening to good friends is just as healing.

    5. Practicing random acts of kindness (letting someone go first in a line or writing a “thank you” letter) has shown me compassion.

    These small acts get me thinking along the lines of being of service. Being of service takes the focus off of me and onto others. Where can I make a difference in someone else’s life?

    6. Increasing my spiritual connection has become a source of hope and strength.

    Through meditation, prayer, and contemplation, I have found a connection with the universal source which I tap into daily.

    7. Catching my negative self-talk has been huge in helping me to stay positive.

    Catching negative talk such as: catastrophizing (“This is terrible”), all or nothing thinking (“It always turns out like this”), negative predictions (“My finances will be in ruins”), labeling (“I’m so stupid”) and so on has been a big turnaround.

    Catching these thoughts is not always easy, but I’m on the lookout for them now. I immediately stop myself and switch the thought to a positive, more accurate statement. Our negative thoughts aren’t the truth of the situation; they’re lies and distortions the ego tells us. It’s all in how we perceive it.

    8. Paying attention to the little things helps me maintain a healthy mental space.

    Even something as simple as listening to my music and getting up and dancing will almost always lift my mood.

    9. Finally, living in the moment as much as I can, without bringing the past into it or dooming and glooming about the future has allowed me to be free of torment.

    The “now” is where true peace lies. Present moment awareness is simple but not always easy.

    —

    So all of these actions and more can make up our 40% choice point. We can raise our state of well-being through practice of the happiness hygiene habits. Science has proven that practicing these habits has helped in raising low-level pessimists into low-level optimists.

    Hey, if I can do it, anyone can. And that means you!

  • Why We’re Afraid of Real Connection and Why We Need Deeper Conversations Now

    Why We’re Afraid of Real Connection and Why We Need Deeper Conversations Now

    “It’s one of the great paradoxes of the human condition—we ask some variation of the question ‘How are you feeling?’ over and over, which would lead one to assume that we attach some importance to it.  And yet we never expect or desire—or provide—an honest answer.” ~Mark Brackett, Ph.D., Permission to Feel

    I used to feel so satisfied if I had made them cry.

    Not in a twisted, sadistic way.

    I just knew once things went quiet and they felt safe, we could peel back enough layers, the tears would flow, and we could finally get to the truth. The truth of how they were really feeling, what their real struggles were, and what they really believed about themselves.

    I did not like seeing their pain, but I did know how to hold space for it.

    This was not achieved in a psychologist’s office or in some sort of support group for mental health. I carried this out in a workplace… for employees.

    You see, I have never been a surface level communicator. Most days, I would rather stick pins in my eyes than chitchat about the weather with someone, knowing there is so much more going on beneath the surface of that person. I get frustrated with the façade, pretending we are all okay, when everyone, on some level, is struggling.

    Product of Conditioning

    I know it is not how most of us are conditioned to operate in society. For many, cultural norms dictate that we be polite, keep emotions to a minimum, and keep conversational topics within acceptable boundaries.

    Why are our conversations this way when our fundamental need for connection and belonging is as strong as eating and sleeping?

    We have enough solid evidence to confirm that we feel more connected and happier when we take our conversations just a little deeper, yet we don’t. We even have a chemical in our brain called tachykinin that’s released when we feel lonely. It’s the brain’s way of making us feel uncomfortable, so we search out others and connect.

    It’s obvious we’re wired for connection. So then why is it so difficult to have meaningful connections that go beyond shallow pleasantries?

    Our Beautiful, Messy Complexity

    Well, as with most human behavior, I believe the answer is an intriguing confluence of reasons.

    I say this based on my academic studies and professional consulting experience. But a more honest answer would be to admit that my response is predominantly coming from my own childhood experiences going back decades, and even some personal experiences from as little as a few years ago.

    Since we see the world through our own filters and perceptions, we tend to focus on what we unconsciously decide is important. And I think for me, being able to sense the greater depths of other human being stems from my own childhood of no one acknowledging my own.

    I am aware I am not Robinson Crusoe, as all of us, to some degree, had some need that was not met in our smaller years, and I am sure Freud could have a field day here.

    The point being my dedication to creating more connection and belonging (primarily in a workplace context) with people, is mostly due to my past experiences. And thankfully for my past, I totally understand why people do not want to connect on a more meaningful level, even though it is so good for our psychological and physical health.

    Our Aversion to Deeper Connection

    There are many reasons why people find it challenging to have more meaningful, connected conversations with one another, and I feel the list would be even longer if we put this in a work context.

    However, here are my top five:

    1. We make emotions binary.

    Emotions are not “good” or “bad.” They’re simply data, giving us signs and clues. We have not been taught to be with and embrace all of our emotions, so we judge and suppress many of them. We are comfortable around someone who is happy but feel very uncomfortable if someone is sad.

    2. We hide our vulnerability.

    When we experience uncomfortable emotions like sadness, guilt, shame, or fear it can be scary and vulnerable to share these emotions with someone else. Naturally, we want to protect ourselves from this type of exposure.

    Yet sharing these deep parts of ourselves with someone we trust can provide us with a deep sense of connection, as well as a sense of acceptance and belonging (not to mention a cascade of feel-good brain chemicals).

    3. We don’t want to risk being ousted.

    The need to belong to a group is hardwired into our brains, so if we experience social exclusion, it actually registers in the brain as physical pain (true story). So, it would make sense that we would forgo our own needs, not take risks such as expressing our opinion or sharing deeper parts of ourselves in conversations, if it meant we get to stay and be part of a group. I think we have all seen plenty of this play out at work

    4. We get triggered.

    Any conversation that goes below the depths of surface level chitchat always runs the risk of an emotion making a guest appearance at some stage. With heightened emotions comes the gamble of getting triggered and moving into a threat response, which can be distressing and traumatic for some people. It is in this space we often see old patterns, defense mechanisms, childhood conditioning, and other unconscious behavior playing out.

    5. We hold ourselves back because our emotions were met poorly as children.

    When we were growing up, if any of our strong emotions like fear, sadness, or anger were met with negative consequences, we may have learned to shut down that part of ourselves. The narrative then became “it is not safe to show how I really feel.” This coping mechanism can make it difficult to connect with anyone on a deep level as an adult.

    Where There is Connection There is Light

    Even though this list may act as encouragement to keep our emotions and vulnerability to a minimum, doing so would not allow us to feel the full, beautiful, rich experience of being human.

    Thankfully, Covid has provided us with some benefits. All this disruption we have been experiencing the last couple of years has made us acutely aware of how we need to make connection a priority. Loneliness now becoming a public health concern.

    I’ve even noticed an increase in my own introversion and a strange apprehension to connect with others at the moment. Even though I specialize in connection and know all the benefits that come with it, I have had to give myself a bit of a push to get out and about and be with others (insert face palm here).

    But what I know for sure, is that sharing our vulnerability and struggles connects us. This is where we find commonality, where we do not feel alone. Where we get to see that we are all the same, trying to do the best we can with the tools we have. Where our hearts can soften, so that we have more compassion with not only those around us, but also with ourselves.

    Moments of real connection make for a real rich life. So go on, get out there….

  • Scared of Losing People You Love? How to Work through the Fear

    Scared of Losing People You Love? How to Work through the Fear

    “People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.” ~Joseph F. Newton

    “Oh my God, Mom…” she said with a verbal eye roll.

    “What?” I responded, sure that I had said too much or overshared like I normally do.

    I can’t recall what my daughter and I were discussing openly about while standing in line at the grocery store checkout, but I do remember the girl ringing us up laughing and saying we sounded just like her and her mom.

    I paused, unsure what that meant.

    “Is this what a healthy mother/daughter relationship sounds like?” I questioned to myself. It was a completely foreign concept to me.

    I wanted to create a strong bond with my daughter, but my own relationship with my mother was dysfunctional and boundary-less when I was a child, leading me to overthink everything when it came to creating a relationship with my daughter.

    My mother had significant mental health challenges, which eventually led to her death by suicide.

    I had no idea what healthy felt like.

    Insecurity plagued me when it came to connecting with my daughter. Was I giving her too much or not giving her enough? Did she trust me? Did she feel comforted by me? Was I too lenient? Was I too distant?

    It was hard to tell when the voices of doubt chimed in.

    I’ve watched other moms with their daughters since I was a young girl. I wasn’t exactly sure what normal was, but I knew it was not telling their daughters how depressed they were or talking through their marital issues. I knew it was not asking their daughters for advice and relying on them to feel good enough to get out of bed by midday.

    I knew my relationship with my mom was different, but it was the only one I had. My normal was gripping codependency and making sure she was okay so she would be there the next day.

    I didn’t want that relationship with my daughter. I wanted her to feel whole and complete and deeply loved without having to take care of another human being to feel it.

    My journey into motherhood was far from easy. With few role models and almost no experience with children, I felt like I had nothing to go on besides instinct alone. And my instincts were part of my problem. I couldn’t always hear them.

    When a child grows up in a volatile environment during their early development, they learn to distrust connection. When what feels comforting and loving one minute can turn to betrayal and rejection in the next, trust in others does not come easily.

    A human’s natural inclination is to want connection, but inconsistency or harm against a person creates a fear in that same connection. When this happens during early development, the child learns to fear what it also deeply desires—which develops into an adult who is quietly terrified to experience and trust reciprocal love.

    The only way I knew how to create that healthy connection was to look deeply into myself and be aware of my patterns and how I was passing them on. And so I observed—a lot.

    I observed other families and the way mothers spoke to their daughters. I observed the way the daughters responded to their moms. I watched what drew my daughter in, and I watched what pushed her away.

    I learned to listen without speaking (which is absolute torture when codependency feels like home), and I learned to ask more questions instead of giving unsolicited advice. I’m still learning, and most likely will be for the long haul since old habits die hard.

    But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just learning how to respond to normal discomfort when someone I love was uncomfortable. It was learning to respond to normal discomfort when I was uncomfortable. It was learning to not shut down and begin to emotionally detach when insecurity started to get loud.

    Raising my children is one of the biggest challenges I’ve had to navigate with these embedded fears. To give birth to a part of you and know your job is to let this soul grow into themselves while they slowly leave you a little more each day. Pulling them close to me to feel safe and loved and teaching them to leave all at the same time. It’s like one long continual dance of love and grief.

    My daughter started college this year and I knew it was going to be tough when she moved on campus, but I had no idea the depth of the grief I would feel. It’s not logical. And the logical part of me likes reason and boxes to put my feelings in. I cognitively knew it was temporary, but my body did not know. It stores memories of every loss and every time I’ve felt left behind, and it was eager to remind me.

    “Life will never be the same again. It’s over.”

    And that is true. But until those old pangs of grief retell their stories without being dismissed and reprimanded for being dramatic or “too much,” I could not see that the new life may even be better than the one before.

    When I let myself experience the sad and angry feelings without reacting to them, they moved through me faster and I could see what I needed to stay connected.

    I requested we have small doses of consistent communication during the beginning stages of her being gone so I could show my fears they were unwarranted. We sent pictures on snapchat most days, and it was just enough to feel connected without being intrusive. It worked for us and comforted my childhood-driven fear until it passed.

    The first time she came home was over a month after she left. Our oversized puppy expressed it best with his big cries and leaping happiness to be with her again. We missed her and our little family felt the absence of her presence in a big way.

    The joy of her energy filling our house was immense. To be in my space again and under my care felt like she never left. She was in and out and visiting friends and doing her thing, but her presence was the reassurance I needed.

    It felt like the scared toddler in me re-experienced object permanence. Proof that it’s safe to trust that if love walks out the door, it also returns. Maybe not in the same shape or the same way, but it comes back when it’s ready… and maybe it never truly left to begin with.

    My little-girl heart, still quietly afraid of loss, was healing.

    Fears of re-experiencing old pains and heartache are the norm in the human experience, and the more we understand our fears, the more we can work with them to keep our connections strong and secure. It also helps us to not pass them on to our children, our partners, our friends and family.

    Our job is not to silence our pain or our fears. Our job is to invite them to the table, let them speak, let them breathe, and let them share their story to completion. Their interrupted cycle is what keeps them around longer as they impatiently wait to be noticed.

    When a fear shows itself through strong surges of emotion (sadness, anger, loneliness, etc.), ask it for more information like you would someone else.

    You can do this verbally out loud or write it out. Ask, tell me more about that pain or fear. What does it feel like? Where do you feel it in your body? Does it hurt or feel restricting? Have you experienced this feeling before?

    Then ask when was the last time you recall feeling this way. What was happening? Who did it involve? What were you scared of? What was the outcome? What might you be doing right now to avoid that same pain? Is it working?

    As you start to uncover the sensations and emotions, ask, what would you tell someone else who was experiencing this same pain? What would you tell a child?

    And my favorite question, what is the most loving and compassionate thing you can do for yourself right now?

    Questions like these give us the opportunity to feel our feelings without transferring them on to someone else and give them a voice they might not normally have. Our inherent need to be seen and heard is met, and we are not ignoring what is asking to be felt.

    The more we let ourselves feel, the more we can hear the voice underneath the feelings once they pass. The quiet intuitive voice who always knows how to nurture us, heal our wounds, and instructs us how to have the courage and ability to have loving relationships with those we care about.

    It’s normal to have fear in our connections. It’s part of our experience as humans and often how we learn about ourselves most. But to let those fears dictate the way we connect keeps us from connecting in the ways we truly crave. True intimacy requires vulnerability and a trust that starts within ourselves. The more we are willing to listen to the fears that drive us, the more we are open to the love that feeds us.

    What are you really scared of? Let your fears be heard, but let your heart lead the way.

  • The World Is Not My Enemy – Why I’m Trying to Let My Guard Down

    The World Is Not My Enemy – Why I’m Trying to Let My Guard Down

    “Vulnerability is the core, the heart, the centre of meaningful human experiences” ~Brené Brown

    From a young age I learned that the world is not a safe place—that there are bullies out there that want to harm me and that I have to watch my back. I developed defense mechanisms in order to protect myself, or perhaps those mechanisms had been there all along, programmed into my psychology by millions of years of evolution.

    Maybe these mechanisms served me in certain situations as they did my ancestors; telling me when to fight and when to run away. But as I got older, I began to see how these mechanisms would often kick into gear when I didn’t want or need them to. Sometimes I would fight when there was no need to fight. Other times I would be afraid and hide when I wasn’t really in danger. Sometimes, I still do.

    This isn’t just my story; it is the story of all of us. Just pay attention to how people behave on the roads—especially when they’re stuck in traffic—or how they behave in comment threads on social media. Pay attention to how people behave in work situations, especially when their skills, capabilities, or ideas are being questioned. We walk around with psychological armor, and we use a lot of energy trying to prevent even the slightest kink in that armor.

    Some of us are also armed and will go off like an automatic rifle at the slightest touch of the trigger, leaving bullet-ridden relationships in our trail.

    Although these defense mechanisms are meant to protect us, they also cut us off from each other. Basically, most interactions are just egos interacting with other egos. Moments of real connection between people don’t happen every day, because that would require us to put down our armor and be vulnerable. But a couple of days ago, I had one such a moment…

    My kids stay with me over the weekends, and I usually pick them up at a golf course where their mom works and my oldest son plays golf. Before I can gain access, the guard at the gate has to scan the license disc of my car.

    As if 2020 wasn’t crazy enough, this year has already thrown a couple of curve balls my way. This particular Friday was just one of those days; I had a lot on my mind, and I wasn’t paying attention. So, while the guard was scanning my license disc, I took my foot off the break for just a second and rolled my car over his unsuspecting foot… crunch…

    Needless to say, he wasn’t happy. I felt like an idiot and could immediately feel my defenses going up—not just because of his reaction but because I’m programmed to get defensive, and this affects how I interpret situations, even when the other person hasn’t done anything wrong.

    “Why was his foot under my wheel?” I thought. “It was only an accident. I have a lot on my mind, okay.” At the same time, I realized that I had messed up, so I apologized profusely and drove off to pick up my kids.

    When I left, I felt compelled to stop at the gate and ask him if he was okay and whether he needed a doctor. He was limping a bit, but he said that he was okay. I gave him my business card anyway and told him to call me if he needed medical attention.

    Great, I thought as I drove away, this is the last thing I need, another potential bill to worry about. And what if he tries to take advantage me? What if he tries to sue me or something? Now I have made myself vulnerable to attack by giving him my details. But fortunately for me, the next few days came and went without any calls from a doctor’s billing department, or a lawyer.

    The next Friday I once again found myself at the gate to the golf course to pick up my kids, and I had to face the guy whose foot I potentially crushed. But I was relieved to see that he was no longer limping.

    I asked him how he was doing, and he assured me that he was okay. I expressed that I was really happy to hear that and before I could drive off, he stopped me. He told me that most people would have gotten defensive and just left it, and as you’ll remember, I almost did. But then he said that I came back and showed him support, which meant a lot to him, so he wanted to thank me.

    I was a bit surprised to be honest, because the last thing I expected was a thank you. But I felt good about this interaction. Not only was I happy that his foot was okay, but I was happy that we could part ways with good vibes between us. I appreciate how cool he was about it.

    An incident that could easily have turned ugly turned out pretty good. Somehow, we had both managed to drop our armor, and this allowed us to show compassion for one another. It was beautiful.

    The honest truth is that I still struggle with this all the time. I would be lying if I said that I have this stuff fully figured out and that I never get defensive or go on the attack. I am still learning, and what this incident taught me is that the world is not my enemy. Sometimes we can be vulnerable and drop our defenses. And most of the time, people will love us for it.

    Seeing the world as something we have to defend ourselves against or hide from cuts us off from those around us. But when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and authentic, we allow for greater connection. This takes courage and sometimes we do get hurt. But when we start treating the world like a friendlier place, somehow, it starts feeling like one.

  • What I Really Mean When I Say I’m Fine (Spoiler: I’m Not)

    What I Really Mean When I Say I’m Fine (Spoiler: I’m Not)

    “Tears are words that need to be written.” ~Paulo Coelho

    It was lovely to see you today. I haven’t seen you in such a long time. So much has happened since the last time we saw each other.

    You asked me how I was. I politely replied, “I’m fine” and forced a smile that I hoped would be believable. It must have worked. You smiled back and said, “I’m so glad to hear that. You look great.”

    But I’m not really fine. I haven’t been fine for a very long time, and I wonder if I will ever know what “fine” actually feels like again.

    Some days are good, some not so good. I’m doing my best to stay optimistic and to keep faith that tomorrow will be better. Sometimes it is, sometimes it’s worse. I’m never prepared for either outcome.

    I’m doing my best to pretend I’m fine.

    The mask I wear hides my pain very well. I’ve been wearing it for so long now that no one can see through it anymore. It’s my new face, and it smiles on demand.

    Some days I wish I didn’t have to pretend to smile. I long for the day when it will come naturally, sincerely, and genuinely.

    When I say I’m fine this is what I really mean…

    I’m sad. I’m really having a hard time right now. I wish I could tell you. I’d like to think that you might even care. And maybe you do truly care. But I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want to bother or burden anyone with my troubles.

    My troubles are big and ugly. I can’t burden you with them. You are facing demons of your own. You don’t need to be exposed to mine. That would be so selfish of me. To think that your demons are not as important or debilitating as mine.

    So I just tell you I’m fine. I’m protecting you when I say I’m fine. Because I’m afraid my pain is just more toxicity.

    I want to tell you my troubles. I want you to take them away. I wish someone could fix everything that hurts, though I no one else can do that for me. Still, I wonder, does anyone have all the answers to these questions that are pounding in my head and causing me grief and anxiety?

    Anyone?

    There’s a tightness in my chest that won’t go away. There’s a darkness in the pit of my stomach that makes me nauseous. My shoulders feel weighted and my arms long for human touch. A body to wrap around tightly to comfort me and ensure me that everything will be okay.

    My troubles have completely consumed my life.

    Inside, I’m crying all the time. My soul is crushed, and my heart is full of holes that I’m desperately trying to patch up as best I can.

    I’m full of anxiety inside, and no matter how hard I try to find peace, it eludes me. I feel there are a million demons inside of me, and I don’t know which one needs my attention the most.

    So I ignore them all. It’s too much for me to bear most days.

    When I say I’m fine I really wish you could hear my inner voice screaming, “I’m not fine, and I need help. Please stay and talk to me, comfort me, help make this overwhelming pain stop.” I want to say this to you. But I open my mouth, and “I’m fine” comes out instead.

    I’m not really fine. I’m not sure how to handle today, and I fear what tomorrow may bring. It’s constant anxiety. I wish it would go away if only for a day.

    I want to be fine, honest I do.

    One day I would love to sincerely tell you how fine I am. That all my anxieties, worries, and fears are gone, or at least less overpowering. That I walk with a skip in my step and a song in my heart. I want to feel that. I may have felt this once before a long time ago, but I don’t really remember it.

    Every day I’m doing my best to smile and make the day better. I’m thinking positively, I’m taking big deep breaths when I need to. I’m reading inspirational blogs and quotes. I’m even listening to guided meditations.

    Today I went shopping and bought myself something nice. I know, a temporary fix. But it worked.

    It all works. For the moment. And then the moment is gone, and it all comes flooding back. All the turmoil, the anguish, the anxiety, the pain. I breathe deeply again. And I’m okay for a few more minutes.

    But for now, I’m doing my best. I know that everything in life is temporary. The good, the bad. Even life. It’s all temporary. If I can just get through today, I’ll be fine.

    I’m doing my best to see the bright side. I can see it some days. But it doesn’t take away the turmoil brewing inside of me. It only masks it with a Band-Aid. A temporary fix.

    Everything is just a temporary fix until I finally become brave enough to get to the bottom of my demons. I need to face them one at a time. I need to bring them to the surface, dust them off, address them, heal from them, and then let them go.

    This I know. But it’s such a daunting task. Just thinking about doing that is overwhelming and causes me a great deal of anxiety. I know it’s up to me to be able to say, “I’m fine” and really mean it.

    One day I will. When I feel strong enough to do so. Until then, I may say I’m fine when I’m really not. But I will try to find the courage to say, “Actually, I’m sad,” even though I know you don’t have a magic wand to take all my troubles away.

    Maybe just opening up and letting you support me will help. Maybe if I stop painting a smile on my face and telling you “I’m fine, really I am,” one day soon I will be.

  • The Only Way to Form Meaningful Relationships with People Who Get You

    The Only Way to Form Meaningful Relationships with People Who Get You

    “A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself.” ~Jim Morrison

    When I left my full-time position at an ad agency and ventured out on my own, I had a clear goal in mind—to connect with like-minded people who align with my highest good. As far as how I was going to do that, I had little clue.

    My life was full of relationships built from forced, sometimes toxic circumstances where we found each other out of need or convenience. I am grateful for each of those people because they were there when I needed them most, but there was always a part of me that felt unknown or misunderstood. They did not speak my language.

    After a couple of decades of those experiences, it became natural to think that no one understood who I was, and no one ever would.

    Being an idealist, I’ve always believed in true heart-to-heart connections with other human beings as the most fundamental component of strong relationships, above cultural backgrounds, titles, properties, or romance.

    Most of the people around me, however, seem to pursue relationships to either avoid being alone or to create financial security, without the desire to form a deeper connection with others. Perhaps they don’t believe in the type of connection I know exists and think of it as a fantasy. In the past, I was often criticized as being naive and impractical.

    My idealistic nature often shows up in work environments, too, unguarded and without an agenda, while I watch others focus only on their own goals.

    I’ve always cared about coworkers as well as clients, and I’ve been enthusiastic about creating great designs to help them succeed. Those efforts were often seen as an agenda to get promoted, even perceived as a threat at times by supervisors fearing I was after their job. So, I finally gave into conformity and kept these idealisms to myself and pretended I had the same drives as everyone else.

    I wanted to be perceived as professional, to have friends, and to live every day drama-free, so I showed the world just enough of me in order to fit in comfortably.

    It is no wonder, in hindsight, I never met anyone who truly got me, because no one really knew about the existence of that part of me. And if I ever mustered enough courage to share those deep thoughts and visions, the slightest pause in our conversation or a split-second blank stare would scare me back into my shell all over again.

    Interestingly enough, after my “release” into the ocean (as I like to call it) from the corporate pond, and since taking full advantage of my freedom to work with whomever I choose, I find myself attracting more and more like-minded people. Whenever I marvel at the miraculous synchronicities, I begin to realize more and more why that is…

    I unknowingly started to come out of my shell and show the world all that I am.

    I was no longer met with judging eyes, passive-aggressive statements, and indirect criticisms that conditioned me to refrain from expressing myself in ways that I wanted to. Without having to deal with constant judgment and negativity, I naturally opened up and let my walls down.

    I spent the three-month grace period I granted myself following the leave nurturing feelings of self-appreciation and comfort and self-reflecting. What kind of relationships did I want moving forward? And what type of professional relationships would I want to build for my long-term success? The answer from deep within brought tears to my eyes—whatever business endeavors awaited, I always wanted to be as happy as I was right then.

    This morning, on an introductory Zoom call with a client who came to us for marketing and PR services, I had déjà vu listening to her echoing my own recent experiences.

    She is a veteran in her industry, well-educated across all subjects, has a rich cultural background, and is already a highly successful entrepreneur; yet she expressed discomfort in telling her personal story because she felt she would be seen as weird and unrelatable, at the same time wondering how her unique perspective and her desire to better the world could come across to the right clients.

    I immediately felt my pulse a little stronger, blood flowing, and wasted no time in sharing what I had just gone through.

    I gave her the following advice in hopes she would be encouraged to share all that she is with the world and build the clientele she truly desires. I got my confirmation immediately when her eyes lit up and her wonderfully mischievous childhood stories began to flow out naturally and comfortably… (Joy!)

    Your “weirdness” is your uniqueness.

    Since I’ve allowed myself to be more authentic, I’ve crossed paths with many people who share the same fear of being seen as “weird.”

    Many of us carry this heavy weight, the shame we felt perhaps from a young age of being judged, reprimanded, or made fun of, just for being ourselves. We then spent decades trying to fit in, prove we were “normal,” and worthy of love and respect. We diminished all the amazing qualities that make up exactly who we are as unique individuals.

    If you ever feel the need to hide your history, struggles, or emotions to appear “normal” to the rest of the world, consider this: You are actually depriving the world of getting to know you.

    What if the world needs your unique personality? What if the world is waiting to hear your personal story? Every single one of your qualities, even those some may consider “weird,” is a contribution to who you have become and what you have to offer the world.

    If you have read this far, you most likely have a desire to be known, to be acknowledged, and you are likely already sharing pieces of yourself with others, at least on a surface level. I encourage you to gently peel off another layer and share a deeper part of yourself. Because not doing so will keep you wondering and feeling caged.

    Like-minded people are trying to find you, too.

    Finding people who click with you can seem like a challenge, even if you lead a dynamic and interesting life and/or have a rich inner world.

    As I get older, I value deep connections more and more because I enjoy getting into a state of flow over effortless, meaningful conversations. I spent many frustrating years trying to figure out how exactly to meet the right kind of people, but it had never occurred to me they were looking for me, too. And I hadn’t made it easy for them to connect with me.

    When I met new people, I stuck with superficial conversations because, again, I didn’t want to be perceived as “weird” and be rejected. When I formed a friendship, I tried to maintain it the same way I had earned it, by not being who I truly am. Needless to say, those relationships were unfulfilling and short-lived.

    Sharing who you are authentically in each present moment not only helps connect you to those similar to you but also filters the relationships that are incompatible from the get-go. By bringing your inner world to light, you acknowledge your own uniqueness and allow others to fully see you, thereby making a connection with you.

    The more you let other people in, the deeper the connections you will form.

    The levels of connection you can create with another person can be exhilarating but also a little intimidating. Relationships can form from a fun-loving, surface-level interaction into something that touches the most intimate parts of your souls. But you have to be willing to risk discomfort and rejection in order to find the right people.

    If you are tired of superficial relationships that bear little fulfillment and want deeper connections you can build on, then your only option is to be brave, open up about your inner world, and let other people in.

    How deep the connections are will depend on how vulnerable you allow yourself to become and whether or not others reciprocate. Not everyone will, and that’s okay. It’s worth opening up to people who’ll reject you to find the one who won’t.

    Conversely, you need to be prepared to reciprocate just the same when someone else trusts you enough to show you their inner world. While this may take some courage to build up to, it’s also well worth the risk.

  • Feel Hurt in Your Relationship? How to Get Your Needs Met and Feel Closer

    Feel Hurt in Your Relationship? How to Get Your Needs Met and Feel Closer

    “The less you open your heart to others, the more your heart suffers.” ~Deepak Chopra

    I used to handle hurtful situations in relationships the same way. I’d get angry, shut down, get irritated, or just give my partner the silent treatment. This just led to more of what I didn’t want—separation, loneliness, and frustration.

    So one day I made up my mind. I was going to change my approach and try something different. Cause we’ve all heard that famous saying from Albert Einstein: “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

    I was tired of not getting the level of intimacy in my relationships that I longed for. I was tired of feeling alone, frustrated, and separated from my partner, especially during the moments when I felt most hurt.

    It all turned around in one single moment.

    People think that change happens incrementally over time, but in my experience it’s often a defining moment in time where you make a new decision that changes everything.

    Turning Separation into Intimacy

    Let me take you back to this moment… I was upset, lying in bed next to my partner. Earlier that evening we had attended a birthday party, and my partner’s ex was there. Truth to be told, it made me jealous.

    Looking back, I had no real reason to be jealous, but that’s the innate nature of jealousy—it’s never rational, it’s emotional. On instinct, I handled the situation as I always did when I felt jealous, inferior, or threatened. I shut down, got irritated and cold, and gave him the silent treatment.

    “What’s the matter?” my boyfriend asked for probably the hundredth time that evening. (Have you ever been in a situation where your partner asks you the same question over and over again, and you repeat the same answer over and over again, secretly wishing that he’d read your mind?)

    “It’s nothing,” I replied with a cold tone, and turned my back on him. That’s where I started to ask myself what was really going on. What I realized was this: At the core, I was not really angry, upset, or irritated. I was hurt and afraid. I felt exposed and rejected.

    So I made a new choice there and then. I told him what the situation was really about: me not feeling pretty enough, not lovable enough, scared that he would choose someone else and leave me. And believe me, it was extremely scary to be vulnerable and expose myself in that way. I was way outside of my comfort zone, but it was truly worth it.

    When I dared to communicate honestly from my heart, I received what I needed: love, connection, and confirmation. This shift that I made during the conflict changed everything and made us, as a couple, closer than ever before. It opened up the door to a new level of communication and intimacy.

    Today, instead of pointing fingers at each other, we always try to take responsibility for our own thoughts, actions, and emotions. To stay honest and vulnerable, even when the stormy weather of negative emotions desperately tries to separate us and impose conflict.

    Assuming you’re in a healthy relationship with someone who would never intentionally hurt you, you too can turn conflict into deeper intimacy and not only feel closer to your partner, but also better meet your needs. Here’s the process that I follow to turn hurtful situations into intimacy:

    1. Stop and notice your emotions.

    The first step is to become aware of your emotions. Just stop and catch yourself when you feel hurt, angry, disappointed, jealous, irritated, lonely, etc. Don’t beat yourself up for having those emotions. To become aware of them is the first vital step in the process.

    For me, it was feelings of jealousy, irritation, anger, and separation that came over me.

    2. Ask yourself what story you’re telling yourself about the situation.

    What thoughts and beliefs do you have? It’s often very helpful to write down your story. The story in your head generates the emotions in your body, and it’s therefore crucial to become aware of your specific story.

    In my case, the story was the following: “My boyfriend still has feelings for his ex. He’s mean and doesn’t respect me. I don’t want to be close to him. I want to punish him and make him suffer. Also, I knew it; I can’t trust people, they always leave and hurt me.”

    3. Scrutinize your story.

    The stories that we play in our minds are often influenced by past memories and experiences. And they tend to trigger strong emotions, which makes us blindfolded; we aren’t capable of acting or thinking rationally.

    So, what we need to do is to scrutinize and question our story. Is this really true? Do I know for sure that this is the way it is? What are guesses, assumptions, and projections, and what are the actual facts?

    In my case, I had very few facts. My boyfriend had not left me, nor had he said or done anything that implied that he had feelings for his ex. When I scrutinized my negative and destructive story, I realized that there was little evidence to support it.

    4. Identify the root cause.

    Ask yourself what it’s really about. What are you not willing to see or feel that needs to be seen or felt?

    In my case, the root cause was me not feeling pretty enough, not lovable enough, and scared that he would choose someone else and leave me.

    This can be a tough one, but give yourself some love and credit for being brave enough to acknowledge your shadow. It’s key to be kind toward yourself, because this stage requires vulnerability. Trust me, the reward of doing so is immense!

    5. Reveal your true needs.

    When you know the root cause, ask yourself: “What is the underlying need that is not being met right now?” Is it to be loved? To feel connection? To feel special and significant? To feel safe? To tell what your heart is experiencing?

    Also, separate the needs that stem from fear and the needs that stem from love.

    Instinctively, I would have answered that I needed space and some time alone to think and reflect. That may sound rational and sound, but that was only my ego trying to avoid facing the real issue and pain. That only increased the distance and separation between me and my partner. To help you navigate this and to find the real, underlying need, ask yourself, “Is this need based on love or fear?”

    For me, the underlying needs were love and connection. I needed to feel my boyfriend’s love and presence. What I desperately longed for was a hug from him. A sincere hug that made me feel safe and seen. A loving hug that ultimately made me feel loved, significant. and special.

    6. Dare to be vulnerable with the other person.

    “Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” ~Brené Brown

    If this is a person that you truly want in your life, that you like a lot or love, then you have to take the risk of being vulnerable. You have to open up and tell the other person what you really feel. But really take time and contemplate this one. Not everyone deserves your vulnerable communication.

    I know that this can be very scary. The first time I did it, I stumbled on my words and I wasn’t able to look my partner in the eye. That’s how scared I was. But I did it anyway. And the reward was huge.

    So take a deep breath and speak your truth, tell the other person how you’re experiencing the situation right now, and dare to express your real underlying need(s).

    7. Take responsibility and own your thoughts and feelings.

    See the situation as an opportunity to acknowledge what you need to work on in life. See it as an opportunity to get closer to yourself and other people. Most importantly, don’t expect others to fix you.

    On my side, I realized that I have a hard time loving myself. But that was not my partner’s problem to fix. At the end of the day, I had to find a way to love myself, with or without his love.

    —

    Next time you are in a situation where you feel hurt, stop and reflect. Use the steps outlined above to move from separation to intimacy with the people you love.

    And remember to be loving and kind to yourself while you do it. No one is perfect, and you show courage by even wanting to look at the situation from a new angle. So stay curious and compassionate toward yourself and others. You got this!

  • My Attraction Experiment: Why I Created a Dating Profile with No Pics

    My Attraction Experiment: Why I Created a Dating Profile with No Pics

    “Being attracted to someone’s way of thinking is a whole different level of attraction.” ~Unknown

    I have been divorced for ten years now and thought it would be fairly easy to find “the one” once I was set free from the ties of the wrong one. To my surprise, it has been harder than I thought it would be. I have found many but not “the one.”

    I have been on Match, Bumble, Plenty of Fish, and blind dates, and even dated a longtime friend to only find myself single going into my fiftieth year on this planet. It has taken me a long time to figure out what I have been doing that has attracted what isn’t right for me.

    I have been in years of therapy, talking out my thoughts and recognizing patterns that don’t serve me. After my marriage, I was in a two-year relationship with a guy who cheated on me. I was in a four-year relationship with a guy who stole a quarter of a million dollars from me, and my fifteen-year marriage was not a friendship.

    With all three partners there was one common denominator: I put a lot of energy into my looks to connect with them. In other words, I wasn’t an innocent party in these crimes of the heart. I got charged when a man was really turned on by me. I was addicted to someone wanting me. I needed to be desired.

    These men were overly visually stimulated and easily physically distracted. They all fixated on my physical and tolerated my mental. I never had a friendship with any of these guys. I had lustship.

    They questioned my deep, soulful emotions. They turned a cheek to my equanimity mindset. They made a face to my immense empathy. They shrugged at my compassion toward others.

    After my last relationship ended, I made an oath to myself. I was going to be celibate and single until I turned fifty. I had been holding onto a really nice bottle of champagne, reserving it for a special occasion. I went to the fridge with a sharpie and wrote, “Drink October 2021.”

    One restless Monday night, I decided to write out who I was and what I was looking for. I started writing with the mindset, “If I were going to go on a dating site . . . this is what I would write” sort of thing.

    As I was writing and reading and editing, I started to really like what I was reading. I thought to myself, “Damn—I am a good writer!”

    I wrote about the good, the bad, and the ugly in a charming, humble way. I was honest to the core about my shortcomings and my endeavors. I left out nothing because I had nothing to lose.

    It became a cathartic experience for me. I rewrote it and reread it until I said to myself, “Damn—I am a really good person!” I got to a place where I wasn’t embarrassed to share the raw truth, yet wasn’t at the total other end thinking, “I don’t give a f*** what you think.” I was in a good place.

    I was proud of myself and wanted to share my story. I felt very accomplished for just being able to put into writing my love life and be able to read it like it was a heartfelt story. It made me smile.

    That Monday night I decided to do an experiment. I got a one-month membership to Match.com and paid extra to only allow people I “liked” to view my profile. I created my profile calling myself “AbbieNormal,” a reference to the hilarious Mel Brooks movie Young Frankenstein.

    I answered all the questions about myself even filled out the random topics Match prompts to help people to get to know you. I typed out the long summary I had created, and when it came time to upload a profile photo, I chose not to. This was the experiment.

    The experiment was to see if any man would be interested in my mind before seeing my body. I was a single woman looking for a single man with a profile that had a novel to read and no photos.

    What guy would read instead of view? What guy would trust without being shown? What guy would take the depth without superficial bait? Who was going to buy the cow without seeing it was a cow?

    There is no doubt that my last guys wouldn’t respond. My ex-husband would think I didn’t post a photo because I was fat. The boyfriend that took my money would think I was some woman trying to get away with cheating on her husband.

    I looked through profiles of over one hundred men and chose about twenty to view my profile, or as Match calls it, “liked” them. I had very little faith that any man would message me. It was an experiment for which I had already fabricated the conclusion.

    My write up started like this, “I have never been single longer than a blink, and I think it’s partially because men are visual creatures. I am taking a gamble with no photos. I would prefer you to read about me and decide if you want to continue than to see me and make my words fit into the pretty little package that I am, emphasis on pretty, not ego :)”

    I went to bed feeling at peace with myself for allowing people to read about the real me, and confident that this experiment would not disrupt my champagne oath. I woke up the next morning, Tuesday, to find three men had messaged me. I was shocked!

    Each one mentioned how refreshing it was to read such an authentic profile. One man did say that a photo would be nice, but no pressure, which I thought that was sweet. Another one mentioned that he too was a big Young Frankenstein fan. He got points for recognizing the reference.

    I wanted to write them back, but apparently on Match you cannot message people unless you put at least one photo up, which is silly because I already gave them money. The site must be owned by men. I was hesitant to post a photo, so I waited another day.

    Wednesday morning one of the three men messaged me again asking to connect. I felt the need to respond so that my intentions didn’t seem like a ruse. I posted a photo and responded to the three men saying the same thing to each one, “Thank you for taking the time to read my profile.”

    On the Wednesday after I posted my photo, I received messages from the rest of the twenty men that I had “liked.” Before keeping track of them became a full-time job, I gave the first three guys my attention. They were my priority.

    Guy 1 – fizzled out after a few texts  :/

    Guy 2 – asked for more photos  :[

    Guy 3 – we texted, talked, and met  🙂

    I did give some time to a handful of the second-round guys that messaged me after the photo went up. One guy didn’t understand how I wasn’t bitter about losing a quarter of a million dollars. Another made a comment that I should post more photos because I am so beautiful. And most of them wanted to meet right away.

    I also kept looking through all the profiles that Match sends daily as their algorithms do their matchmaking. Although I have to say, they always sent me my ex-husband’s profile as a “Super Match,” and he is by far not that.

    The experiment was pretty much over. I had a photo up, and now I was acting like I was dating or something. I needed to focus on my champagne oath and just stop.

    My experiment surprised me.

    I gained a new appreciation for the male species / human race. Who knows what intentions the three guys had when choosing to message me solely on the basis of my words and no photo? I would like to believe that they were genuinely interested in what they read and wanted to ride with faith that there would be a physical attraction. That is my final answer.

    The experiment taught me a lesson.

    I was being hypocritical as I looked at every man’s photos picking out who was going to have access to my profile. As painful as it is to say that I was looking at men’s physical attributes, my attraction always came from what they wrote. I do know without a doubt, if a man “liked” me with no photo and his words moved me, you better believe I would message him back.

    The experiment gave me a new perspective.

    Like I said, I was not innocent in how men viewed me or what type of man I ended up with. I wanted someone to see me for who I really was, but my shell was sparkly and shiny while my center was elaborate and profound.

    I realized I had longed for someone to want, desire, and be turned on by the elaborate and profound and then be happily pleased with the sparkly and shiny.

    For all of my dating life, men wanted me for the sparkly and shiny then tolerated, challenged, and ridiculed the elaborate and profound. The experiment allowed me to feel wanted for who I truly am for just a brief moment, and it was an incredible feeling.

    I will forever remember this experiment as the moment I learned who I really am in terms of a partner. I had been blaming the men or the quality of humans or my poor judge of character, and it wasn’t any of those things. I had to learn who I am to understand who I wanted.

    I bet you are wondering what happened to Guy 3, right? I am still dating him. As for the champagne oath—that I’d be celibate and single until I turned fifty—let’s just say when I told Guy 3 about my oath he said, “That’s not going to happen, you better just drink it.”

  • How Singles Can Come Out Stronger After the Pandemic

    How Singles Can Come Out Stronger After the Pandemic

    “Resilience is all about being able to overcome the unexpected. Sustainability is about survival. The goal of resilience is to thrive.” ~Jamais Cascio

    The pandemic has forced us to avoid people, self-isolate, and keep to ourselves.

    It might seem like you’re in a position where you don’t have many options. You can’t freely hang out with your friends. You can’t have fun like you used to. Your dating and socializing opportunities are limited. These setbacks can bring to the fore feelings of loneliness, deepen the longing for relationships, and highlight your innate desire for connection.

    I know how easy it is to get sucked into a hole of despair, loneliness, and paralysis and to wait for better times to come.

    I am not single now, but my life has forced me to embrace being single in the past. I formerly spent ten years trying to find love online. I created lots of drama, frustration, and pain for myself. I reached the point of emotional exhaustion and needed to rebuild my sense of self and find my own power again. I then went on a dating detox for two years and never looked back.

    During this time, I focused entirely on creating an amazing relationship with myself. I learned how to hold, support, and provide for myself. I learned how to enjoy being single. I embraced feeling lonely and learned how to soothe my uncomfortable emotions.

    All of the methods and techniques I’ve shared below helped me find the inner resources for a better and more fulfilling life as a single.

    As a deep believer in the saying “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade,” I encourage you to turn within to find your resilience. Stop waiting and start thriving now.

    Since finding love might be slightly more difficult right now, use this time to learn more about yourself, deepen your relationship with yourself, and befriend your loneliness.

    Ultimately, we are the architect of our own destiny. We all have the power to decide how we want to feel and what actions we need to take to thrive rather than just survive. If you take these actions, you’ll end up stronger, clearer, and more empowered.

    Here are a few suggestions on how you can use this pandemic to your benefit:

    1. Be gentle with yourself.

    You have valid reasons to be all over the place emotionally right now. One day, things might look bright and easy. On another day, you might feel down and demotivated. Recognize it. Acknowledge it. Have compassion for yourself. Don’t expect too much of yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself.

    Let’s face it: these are unprecedented times. You need to adjust your expectations of yourself to the current circumstances. It’ll feel hard and challenging at times. Allow it all. Without judgment. It is what it is, and you’re doing your best.

    Take it one day at a time. Have a plan or structure in place every day if that helps you keep going. If the going gets tough, take care of yourself and prioritize your well-being. Through meditation and mindfulness, you can reduce your anxiety and loneliness, find blessings in every day (no matter how boring and limited it may be), and increase your joy and contentment.

    2. Befriend your loneliness.

    Have a date with your loneliness. Let’s call it your “Silence & Solitude Session.” You can do it when you’re having your morning coffee or smoothie, or whenever you feel overwhelmed by loneliness. Just sit down, turn off all distractions (like your phone), and be present with your feelings.

    Find the feeling of loneliness in your body. Feel how warm or cold it is. What color it is. What shape it is. Explore why you feel the way you feel. What triggered this feeling? What is the thought behind this feeling? Does your loneliness have any message for you?

    Treat it like a wave of energy going through your body—energy that wants to be released and transmuted. Like every wave, it comes and goes. Every feeling is transient. No emotion lasts forever. Eventually, they all pass, and much more quickly if you stop resisting and judging them.

    If you prefer to shift your feelings by doing something physical, just drop everything and dance, exercise, or go for a hike. Even a quick cleaning session around the house can quickly change your state by moving the energy. By the end of your exploration, your loneliness won’t have as much power over you.

    When I became intimate with my own loneliness, it didn’t paralyze me as much or feel as scary. I was able to embrace it, release it, and find peace and comfort in solitude.

    3. Take care of your inner child.

    Whenever you feel flat, sad, angry, or frustrated, sit down, close your eyes, and connect with your inner child to help give them what they need.

    You might see them. You might feel them. Get closer to them. Spend a few moments being, chatting, and playing with them.

    When you feel like it’s the right moment, ask them what they need right now. Give them space and wait for the answers. The answers will flow, and you might be surprised by what they are. Then you can reassure them that you’re always there for them and want to fulfill their needs.

    When I did this exercise during a particularly lonely period, I recognized that my inner child needed more fun and connection. She felt lonely because I’d been neglecting her and ignoring her need for play.

    If your inner child also feels smothered by life’s busyness and seriousness, let them out and engage in fun, playful activities. Have a fancy dance party (invite your friends over Zoom!). Have a karaoke session and sing at the top of your lungs. Get dirty with paints or clay. Grab a box of markers and paper and draw how you feel.

    Let them express themselves through creativity. It doesn’t matter what you create or what it looks like in the end. The process of playing and creating will do the healing.

    4. Use social media to create connection, not to numb yourself.

    Limit your social media time and use it with intent. Facetime friends, connect with your family, reach out to friends you haven’t spoken with for years and check out how they’re doing. Be creative. Maybe a cooking session with a friend over Zoom or a dinner with a sibling using WhatsApp.

    These interactions are priceless. They’ll give you a sense of connection and boost your mood. Mindlessly scrolling through FB or Instagram stories won’t. It can create the opposite effect. Often it can make you feel even more isolated and feeling like you don’t belong. It can trigger “comparisonitis”—the feeling that you’re falling behind on your goals/projects when compared to others you see online. It will only bring you down.

    Examine what triggers you to grab your phone, how often, when, and what feelings you try to numb by scrolling through social media without purpose. Then find healthier ways to address your emotions—for example, doing something fun if you’re bored or journaling if you’re feeling down on yourself.

    You’ll stop wasting so much time, and you’ll have more of it to explore new things that bring you joy and pleasure. Perhaps deleting certain apps from your phone is a good idea. Or designating certain times per day for social media rather than doing it whenever you feel like it. Experiment and see what changes in your life.

    5. Spend time in nature.

    You might recognize the healing power of nature but limit yourself to indoor activities because it’s easier, or because it’s cold outside. But even in the colder months, nature can bring you comfort. It can uplift you. It can help you cleanse your energy and emotions. It can inspire you and give you insights, whether it’s a brisk walk in a nearby park or just stepping outside into your garden barefoot.

    Feel the ground, grass, sand, or even snow, depending on what’s available where you are. Look up into the sky. Listen to the trees. Pause for a moment and be present with what is present. Deep breathing while being present will help you oxygenate your body and get the energy flowing.

    If you’re more adventurous, why not travel to a new location and explore something new? Find a forest or national reserve. Pack a sandwich or two and enjoy exploring a new place. Spending a day surrounded by nature will fill your soul up and refresh you mentally. It will move the stagnant energy and bring some new inspiration.

    6. Keep your vision alive.

    I know you needed to put everything on hold, and little is available at the moment. Some of your plans needed to change. Some projects got suspended. But please don’t let your dreams and your vision die inside of you. The pandemic is temporary. You can use the extra time you have to deepen and clarify your dreams and goals or find your purpose.

    Keep drawing your vision of your future in your mind daily. Take a few minutes each day to create your future. Grab your journal or just sit for a moment and reconnect with your dreams. Review your aspirations. Revisit your goals. Check in with yourself and see what’s still important, what you want to let go of, and what new plans you have.

    Here are a few journal prompts to get you going:

    • Has anything changed in terms of your dreams and goals?
    • Do you still want the same things?
    • What do you want?
    • What is not important anymore?
    • What new things do you want to create?

    7. Re-evaluate your relationships.

    Use this time to re-evaluate your relationships, standards, and boundaries.

    If you dare to be honest with yourself and see how you’ve contributed to your mistakes and poor choices in love, you can draw lessons and strength from them—and avoid unnecessary frustration, heartache, and drama in the future.

    Take some time to identify what you want and don’t want in your next relationship and what you don’t want to compromise on. This will help you become the best version of yourself and attract the right kind of partner with your powerful energy and uncompromised standards and values.

    Here are some journaling prompts to help you uncover your strengths and give you more clarity:

    • What have you learned about yourself from your previous relationships?
    • How have you become stronger as a result of your previous relationships?
    • In what way have the previous relationships prepared you for success in your next one?
    • What are you not available for anymore?
    • What will you do differently in your next relationship?

    When I did this exercise while single, I recognized that I was an extreme overgiver and I had no boundaries. No wonder I felt drained after every relationship and needed time to recover. I put some new boundaries in place and balanced my people-pleasing tendencies, and that enabled me to attract true love.

    —

    When you apply the points above, you might improve your relationship with yourself and start enjoying being single more. You’ll also be more ready for successful dating when dating becomes easier. When you get yourself through tough times, you have a new appreciation for yourself, a stronger sense of self, and more clarity about what you’re available and not available for.

    This will, like nothing else, positively affect your future romantic choices, who you date, and who you allow into your life.

    There is some higher purpose to this isolation. Use this time to strengthen yourself so you can be ready for expansion in every area of your life once we’re on the other side of the pandemic.

  • Why Curiosity Is My Love Language and How It Makes Me Feel Seen

    Why Curiosity Is My Love Language and How It Makes Me Feel Seen

    “Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.” ⁠~David W. Augsburger

    The five love languages—a framework for how we give and receive affection created by psychologist Gary Chapman in 1992⁠—include quality time, gifts, acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch.

    As much as I love receiving all five demonstrations of care, I’ve always felt that my truest love language was missing from this list.

    My love language is curiosity. I show others I care for them by asking questions, learning their experiences, and being hungry for the essence of them beneath the small talk and the pleasantries. I want to see them for who they are and know what makes them tick. And I, too, want to be loved this way.

    Like many recovering people-pleasers, I spent most of my life over-attuned to others’ moods and needs, accustomed to relationships in which I did all of the seeing but rarely felt seen.

    While I know that people-pleasing is usually an outdated coping mechanism from childhood, I also know that my ability to get curious about others is my superpower. Regardless of its origin, it is just as much a part of me as my eye color or my heritage.

    This desire to deeply understand others is a quality about myself that I love, something that I do just as much in service to myself as in service to others.

    For years, my curiosity often led me to play the role of confidante and cheerleader in my relationships. Friends, partners, and acquaintances said I was an “exceptional listener.” And while I appreciated their praise, I often felt that folks cherished my companionship the way they would cherish a finely polished mirror—a smooth surface in which they could admire their own reflection.

    As I’ve gotten older, I’ve determined that I’m no longer willing to be a part of one-sided relationships in which I know others inside and out, but they regard me as a foreign language. I want a person who can put their ego aside and get curious. I want someone who maps my terrain eagerly, who crests the peaks and sprints into the jagged valleys of my tales, who overturns stones for what lies hidden beneath.

    As someone who spent much of her life feeling unseen, I notice when someone really makes an effort to see me.

    I notice when people look directly into my eyes and ask, “But really⁠—how are you feeling today?”

    I notice when people share a story and then pause to ask, “Have you ever experienced anything like that before?”

    I notice when others seem just as comfortable holding space as they do taking up space.

    I notice when folks treat conversations like opportunities for co-creation instead of pedestals from which to preach.

    I also notice when people ask perfunctory questions and, moments later, check their phones or stare off into space.

    I notice when others use my stories as springboards to leap into their own experiences.

    I notice when I’m interrupted repeatedly by someone who is so eager to speak that they can’t fathom making room for anyone else.

    I notice when people use me as a sounding board or a therapist with no reciprocity in sight.

    With time, I have learned to leave these relationships behind. They drain me energetically and, by participating in them, I teach myself that I am not worthy of more.

    I distinctly remember a friendship where, after every afternoon spent together, my body craved a two-hour nap. I remember other connections that left me feeling hallowed out and sunken, like a withered plant that hadn’t seen a glimpse of sun in weeks.

    Ultimately, it was my responsibility to shift this pattern and make space in my life for healthier connections. I could continue to feel victimized by one-sided relationships, or I could leave them behind and trust that I deserved better⁠—and that better existed.

    We co-create these healthier, reciprocal connections by communicating, clearly, what we need in order to feel seen. The love language framework is so valuable because it gives us a simple, casual way to do so. After all, we can’t expect others to read our minds and know automatically what’s best for us.

    This is why I’ve learned to say to friends and prospective partners early on, “My love language is curiosity. I feel most loved when others ask questions and want to understand me.” By offering this simple truth, we give others the information they need to love us well. Whether they choose to act on that information is up to them.

    If we find ourselves in relationships that are one-sided, we need to be willing to let them go, and embrace the initial loneliness that comes from leaving the old while awaiting the new. We need to learn to trust that we are interesting, that our experiences are valuable, and that our words are just as worthy of space as anyone else’s.

    With every new relationship that makes space for the essence of us, the more believable these truths become.

  • 4 Ways to Overcome Alienation and Loneliness

    4 Ways to Overcome Alienation and Loneliness

    “What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.” ~Kurt Vonnegut

    Have you ever felt like a stranger in your own life? Watching other people like you were separated by some invisible wall?

    Most of us have felt it from time to time and understand all too well how detrimental loneliness can be if it doesn’t go away. In fact, research has shown that loneliness is worse than smoking or obesity to a person’s health.

    Yet we live in a world that is more connected than it has ever been. How is it that so many of us feel lonely?

    I’ve recently discovered the work of Gabor Maté, whose teachings on addiction and connection has inspired me deeply.

    He discusses the mind-body connection (particularly the deadliness of suppressing emotions) and how social connections can accelerate healing.

    When he speaks it makes so much sense it’s hard to believe this is not mainstream knowledge. How are we still treating the mind separate from the body? When someone develops cardiovascular disease, why are we not asking questions beyond their diet? Why are these people not supported holistically?

    It makes complete sense to me that someone who develops a chronic illness or disease and is socially isolated will not be able to heal as quickly as someone who feels connected to his or her community. What’s frightening is that our society is almost built on this artificial sense of connection that only creates feelings of alienation. I suppose it’s because it’s good for business.

    Alienation is a term originally coined by Karl Marx. His theory of alienation describes the “social alienation of people from aspects of their human nature as a consequence of living in a society of stratified social classes.” It occurs when a person withdraws or becomes isolated from their environment or from other people.

    People who show symptoms of alienation will often reject loved ones, society, and even aspects of themselves. It’s a very disorienting sense of exclusion and separation. It’s also lethal for human animals who thrive and prosper when they are connected and feel like they belong.

    Below are four types of alienation that pertain to our modern lives and how to combat each of them.

    Alienation from Nature

    It’s no surprise that alienation from nature contributes to our loneliness. We kill a part of ourselves when we destroy rainforests and dispose large amounts of garbage in our oceans. The movement to protect our earth is one that requires compassion and empathy for life beyond ourselves. It’s also a recognition that we are all connected.

    I don’t mean this in a ‘kumbaya’ sense, I mean it literally. The oil and coal we burn will become the air we breathe, just as the tiny microbes of plastic will become infested in the fish we eat. How people can deny this is infuriating. If we destroy our planet, we destroy ourselves. The planet is a large organism that has gone through many dramatic makeovers across its lifespan of 4.5 billion years. It does need us, we need it.

    I feel the best way to gain respect for our earth (if, for whatever reason, you don’t already) is to spend more time in the great outdoors. To leave the city and man-made buildings behind and spend time in nature.

    How can you not fall in love with our planet when you listen to rush of a waterfall? Or feel the aliveness and buzzing of a forest? We are nature, after all. We came from it and we will return to it. Connection to the earth is, in a sense, connecting to our truest sense of self.

    Alienation from People

    Many of us are no longer connected to others in a meaningful way. Social media has largely replaced social interaction and created an artificial sense of connection. We are wired to connect to others face to face, eye to eye, not through our phones.

    Social media is not only about connecting with others, but also an opportunity for companies to sell their products. There is an incentive for these platforms to keep you on longer and longer, stealing your precious attention.

    There is a reason why you open your phone and suddenly get pulled into a vortex of bright red notifications and an endless newsfeed. There are top psychologists and behavioural scientists working to keep you on your phone longer. I recommend watching The Great Hack or The Social Dilemma for more on this topic.

    This loss of attention causes us to become less present in the moment and more concentrated on what’s next, contributing to anxiety and depression. The effects of phone usage on our mental health are still being uncovered as are the laws around it. We are living in blurred lines, not quite sure how this will pan out. It’s like the era that our parents had with smoking before they connected the dots and accepted that it caused cancer.

    If there is a loss of genuine social connection in your life, I know how hard it can feel to connect with others. It can be an uncomfortable and vulnerable to seek friendships with people. Where do we start as adults? It was so much easier when we were in kids.

    Well, we can start by getting out more. Find hobbies, workshops, classes and meet people who share the same interests as you. During lockdown it’s obviously a bit harder, but there are also so many online communities that have popped up as a result. While it’s not the same as meeting in person, online groups of genuine sharing and connecting are the next best thing. Putting yourself out there is hard, but the risk is worth the reward.

    Alienation from Work

    When we do work that is just a means to an end and fulfills no purpose in our soul, it will slowly kill us. It reminds me of the quote, “The cost of not following your heart is spending the rest of your life wishing you had.” Doing some dead-end job because we are afraid to follow our dreams is painful.

    We all have gifts inside of ourselves, and the task is to find out how we can make a living out of them. Of course, this comes with a level of pragmatism, we simply can’t quit our well-paid office job and decide to become a puppeteer. There are intelligent and careful ways of getting where we want to go if we have the determination. Every day is an opportunity to take steps in the right direction.

    Go wherever you feel most alive and invigorated, it is always worth it. If you don’t believe me, look up “things people regret most on their deathbed.”

    Alienation from Self

    Last but not least, the disconnection from ourselves. Our true selves. The person we were when we first entered this world. Wild and free, happy to be. Then we got our light dimmed by our parents, society, and culture to follow the well-laid path and do what everyone else does. It’s not surprising that so many of us forget our inner child. But it’s not lost, it’s just lying under those layers and layers of who we needed to be.

    I know I have disconnected from myself at times in my life. It hurts to go against my authentic self just to be liked or accepted. It’s like looking at my inner child and saying in her face, “You aren’t good enough. Change.” It breaks my heart.

    The saddest thing is those who have completely lost touch with their youngest self. They remind me of Robin William’s Character in Hook before he realizes he is Peter Pan. He grew up only to become an overweight, miserable lawyer who was obsessed with work. He was completely disconnected from his family, nature, and of course, himself.

    If only we all had a little Julia Roberts fairy to yank us out of our boring adult selves and remind us of our inner Peter Pan!

    Imagine the zest for life we’d all have if we had to go undergo training to reconnect with our true self? Healing and transformation begin by developing a deep relationship to ourselves. How? Through meditation, journaling, therapy, being in nature, connecting genuinely with others. It will also require vulnerability, patience, courage, and the willingness to change.

    We don’t need to keep our loneliness to ourselves. Ironically, it’s something we all have experienced and can relate to. If we can find ways to reconnect with nature, connect meaningfully to our friends and community, find fulling work that is aligned with our values, and connect to ourselves, the wall of loneliness will have no choice but to simply crumble away.

  • When You Struggle with Being Yourself, Remember This

    When You Struggle with Being Yourself, Remember This

    “Make the most of yourself… for that is all there is of you.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

    Every day, it was more or less the same. I presented an edited version of myself to the world. I felt a deep level of discomfort with the idea of letting myself go. Could I? Should I? The answer was “no” every time, even if it wasn’t always a conscious decision.

    It felt wrong to be myself in a society where we’re conditioned to believe that we have to look and be a certain way to fit in. I believed that no one would accept me as I was. That it would result in my personality being mocked or criticized.

    After all, how can anyone understand someone who’s both quiet and bubbly? The two aren’t said to go together. If you’re bubbly, it means you’re outgoing, fun, lively. On the other hand, a quiet person is likely to be just that—quiet, all the time. At least, that’s what most people think.

    And if you’re both, then there’s something about you that isn’t quite right because you can’t be put into one box.

    As for the side of me that likes to laugh, be silly, and squeal in delight at rainbows, how childish. I need to grow up. I should be more mature like everyone else; play less and get serious about life because that’s how it is as an adult. Less fun, more… boring.

    Those thoughts held me back for years. The “shoulds” I imposed on myself were endless, and they rarely worked in my favor, so parts of me remained hidden like some shameful secret that could never be revealed. It felt like the biggest annoyance to not be able to show all sides of myself.

    As time passed, I started to notice some things about the way I interacted with people. I noticed that on some occasions, I would feel completely relaxed in a person’s presence. Talking to them felt like talking to someone I had known for years.

    There was no tension, no paranoia about what they might be thinking of me, and no unnecessary mind chatter trying to convince me that I looked stupid or weird.

    The second form of interaction was the kind of encounter where I felt judged with every breath I took.

    The vibe was off, a total mismatch, and the conversation was strained. Was it me, and was I the cause of this disconnect? Perhaps, at times, my obvious feelings of awkwardness or self-consciousness left the other person with a feeling of discomfort. Maybe they gave up after hitting the invisible wall I’d built around myself.

    And then, there was and still is the third type of interaction. The kind where I’m happy to talk to someone, but I make a conscious decision to not show all of who I am. It’s not necessarily because I don’t like the person or that I have anything against them. It’s often because I don’t feel a connection with them where I would want to show other sides of myself.

    Sometimes, but not always, I see myself as a prize. The more we get on, the more of me you win. The deeper connection I feel, the more of the prize you get to see, which may come across as pompous to a certain degree. But this isn’t about thinking that I’m better than anyone else or getting to choose someone’s level of deservability.

    It’s the level of connection that matters the most. In my mind, it’s not necessary to show everything to everyone all the time just for the sake of it, and perhaps that’s the introvert in me speaking. But that’s what has helped me to feel more okay with being myself.

    No pressure, no forcing. Just doing it my way and understanding that I get to choose: In interactions, I either reveal more of myself or I don’t. And if my holding back results in my missing out on establishing a deeper connection with someone because they took off due to seeing me as “hard work,” then that’s both of our loss. A loss, however, that won’t break us, unless we let it.

    So, when you struggle to be yourself, remember, you too have a choice. Always. And you don’t need to feel guilty or bad about not being your true self around others, especially when you don’t even want to. Sometimes, it may not even be appropriate.

    Showing up as your full-blown glorious self can feel terrifying, and that’s okay because you’re human. So obvious but so easy to forget.

    As humans, we ride the waves of life every day. Some of the waves are far too tumultuous for us to bear, and we’re left feeling battered, bruised, and shaken.

    We believe that what we’ve experienced is an unshared experience—no one will ever understand; we think that what we’ve done shouldn’t be revealed—people will think ill of us; we presume that what we’ve not done is going to be held against us. That may be the case in some instances, but the rest of the time, we’re safer than we realize.

    Being yourself is important, but forcing yourself to make it happen isn’t. You’re allowed to practice. You’re allowed to take two steps forward and five steps back. You’re allowed to trip up multiple times. You’re allowed to be human.

    So, be patient with yourself and focus on embracing your humanness because that, more than anything, is what we all share. And when we embrace it, we make it easier for ourselves to accept what, who, and how we are.

    It’s the remembering that we’re human and the compassion that we have for ourselves that steer us closer to being ourselves. Trying to be yourself while ignoring your human tendencies and being hard on yourself only leads to more trying.

    It’s time to stop trying, especially if you’ve been trying for years. Instead, spend more time noticing just how human you’re being today. Spend time noticing just how human others are being too. You may not always like what you see, but there’s no getting away from the fact that it all comes back to us being human. Multifaceted humans.

  • How Spending Time Alone Helped Me Overcome My Loneliness

    How Spending Time Alone Helped Me Overcome My Loneliness

    “If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.” ~Jean-Paul Sartre

    I have spent most of my life surrounded by people, which is probably why I never realized I was lonely. For the majority of my adult life, the only quiet times I had to myself were the very start and very end of the day. Otherwise, my mind was inundated with chatter, notifications, and distractions.

    This constant noise let me mask the depths of my loneliness. I was bombarded with texts and distractions at all times, but I lacked deeper connections. As the years passed and I grew busier and busier, I found that I actually took steps to reduce my alone time. I’d watch TV until I fell asleep; I’d check my work emails first thing in the morning.

    Looking back, the situation was obvious—I was terrified of being alone with my own thoughts—but at the time, I just thought I was being productive, or simply didn’t like being bored.

    I didn’t realize my problem until my laptop suddenly broke. One chilly afternoon, when I was curled up on the sofa, ready for some New Girl, it unexpectedly powered off, and I was faced with my own reflection in the black screen. My phone was out of charge.

    Without distractions, work, or social media filling up my mind, I came to the abrupt realization that, despite all my activities and invites, I was deeply lonely. And that was making me profoundly miserable without even realizing it.

    That afternoon, I found out I was terrified of being alone. I looked at my relationship with myself and found it lacking.

    The prospect of being stuck in my own company was so scary to me that it jarred me into action. I’d gotten so good at filling my mind with chatter, I didn’t know who I was when I was alone. I was definitely one of the many Americans who spend more than five hours a day on their phones, according to a 2017 State of Mobile report—never really alone, after all. But I didn’t know how to start being less lonely.

    I didn’t want to only rely on others, so I made a plan to build my relationship with myself.

    I decided then to be mindful about my intentional alone time. First, I figured out when I had space to be with myself. Then, I identified the times I found it hardest to be alone. Finally, I picked out the obstacles.

    That left me with a solid three-point strategy: I had roughly three chunks of time during the day when I could have mindful alone time. My mornings and evenings were roughest for me. And my phone was the primary driver in stopping me from my goals.

    My plan was to have three sections of alone time: active alone time, time meditating, and time doing something that didn’t involve a screen. But before I did any of that, I had to remove the biggest obstacle: my phone.

    Even though it kept me connected to the world, it was holding me back from developing a deeper relationship with myself. I spotted that I used it most in the morning and the evening, so I invested in an old-fashioned alarm clock and decided on a strict no-screens-after-9:00pm rule.

    Normally, my morning started with me staring at my phone’s notifications. Instead, I got up and went for a fifteen-minute walk in my neighborhood. At first, it was boring—I was desperate for distraction. But the more I did it, the more I found myself capable of noticing birdsong, thinking about my plans for the day, unraveling the tangled feelings of the day prior, and looking forward to my first cup of coffee.

    I also worked in a five-minute meditation. At the time, meditation was new for me, so I figured that five minutes would be short enough for me to start getting into the habit. I quickly realized I needed to invest in an app to do guided meditation, which really helped me stay consistent and get actual benefits from it.

    Finally, I filled my evenings with reading and painting. Both of these activities are manual, which meant that I couldn’t check my phone while I was doing them. I was able to rediscover my love of books, and while I’m not very good at painting, the process of producing tangible art helped patch the gap in the evenings when I normally would reach for my phone.

    Research proves that loneliness is harmful for your physical and emotional well-being, but you don’t necessarily have to look outside yourself to cure your loneliness.

    All my habit changes pointed to one final conclusion: You can’t depend on others to feel better about yourself. Learning to be okay with being alone was crucial to my journey with myself. You can’t begin to work on real relationships with others until you have a solid relationship with yourself.

    For me, it took one crucial moment to bring home the reality of the situation. From there, I needed to actively carve out alone time—not just time without other people physically present, but time without distractions, notifications, phone calls, or emails.

    Time that belonged just to me.

    Finally, it did take tweaking. I tried to do it with my phone, but realized it was impossible, so I removed it. I originally tried to do a half-hour walk, but the time away from any devices stressed me out. When I began meditation, I thought I could do it without an app, but found I spiraled into negative thought patterns or fell asleep.

    My point is, I didn’t get it right on the first try. The most important thing for me was that moment of realization. From there, I was able to keep trying until I found methods that worked for me. The results were amazing in the long run. I have a better image of myself, and I’ve found my relationships with others have improved.

    Because I’m dedicated to feeling my feelings instead of drowning them out in a blur of notifications and escapes, overall, I’m more present and self-aware than I used to be, which helps keep me more self-accepting and centered. Nowadays, when things get rocky—and that does happen, as an unavoidable part of reality—I’m able to draw from my reserves and go with the flow.

    It was uncomfortable, it was difficult, it was frustrating, but it’s definitely been worth it.

  • Strong and Vulnerable: How I Learned to Let People In

    Strong and Vulnerable: How I Learned to Let People In

    “Vulnerability is hard. And it’s scary, and it feels dangerous. But it’s not as hard, scary, or dangerous as getting to the end of our lives and having to ask ourselves, ’What if I would have shown up?’” ~Brené Brown

    January – 2012

    I remember sitting in a small, dark room waiting for the surgeon to arrive.

    My son had just had major surgery to treat a complex condition that had cost him his small bowel, and it had taken much longer than expected.

    My stomach felt tense as the surgeon sat in the chair opposite us.

    He looked at the floor as he started to speak.

    “It’s not good news,” he said.

    “We think he has a week left to live.”

    After that, my mind switched off. I felt my wife’s head on my shoulder and heard her tears.

    Was it a bad dream?

    June – 2017

    My feet feel heavy as I am nervously walking toward the divorce court.

    Twelve years has come to an end, and it’s time to let her go.

    We lived under extreme stress for five years, up every night with our son, constantly in the hospital. I think the only thing worse than being in a war zone is being in intensive care for twelve months and seeing children die next to you.

    I know I did my best, but somehow, we lost each other. Both stuck in our own pain, with me unwilling to be vulnerable and unable to fully let her in.

    As I stand outside the court in a small, smelly room waiting for the hearing, my thoughts drift back.

    May – 1988

    I am in the hallway after school, surrounded by three bigger guys.

    They are laughing at me and pushing me. I know what’s coming, and I can feel my heartbeat increasing, and my stomach feels tense.

    I wish I could be anywhere else but here, but there is no way out. I am surrounded.

    I feel the kick in my chest as I fall to the floor and struggle to breathe. A few more punches and I hear their voices fading as they walk away.

    I get up embarrassed and in pain, but I pretend I am okay. I remember what I have learned. Never show weakness…

    August – 1998

    This reminds me of something I have experienced before. I am in a harbor surrounded by three big guys with tattoos down their arms and neck.

    I don’t see the guy that has circled me, and suddenly I feel the punch on my ear. I drop to the floor.

    Slowly, I get up and say, “Are we done?”

    I get kicked in the stomach and fly backward.

    Slowly, I get up and ask, “Are we done?”

    And another round.

    I should not show any emotions. That is how I survive. I know this game…

    June – 2017

    I hear a voice and snap out of my thoughts.

    It’s the court lady, and she says the hearing is canceled.

    As I get on the London underground, I close my eyes and drift off again…

    March – 2014

    This is where it started.

    He is an optimistic, energetic Italian scientist who I found online while researching leading experts around the world, and he is my only hope.

    I tell him the story of my son and that only the regenerative medicine treatment he is researching can save my boy.

    He tells me that we need to raise $7.5 million to do the research.

    He looks at me in disbelief as I say, “Okay, I will get that.”

    Whatever it takes to save my little boy…

    June – 2017

    I finally got home from the divorce court.

    I am looking out the window, and despite everything I have achieved, I feel empty.

    My son is still here five years later, and we managed to raise $8 million. I have many friends, and I had a business that I built from scratch with fifty staff members.

    So why do I feel so empty?

    I know the answer but am afraid to admit it because I am a man. I am strong, and I don’t need anyone.

    I had survived violent confrontations, built a business from nothing, helped save my boy when he was given no chance, I am helping to innovate medical science, and I have fought and won legal battles against our national health service…

    I know I am strong, but I feel alone. Disconnected from others.

    Suddenly I realize that I have made myself alone. Because I learned to only count on myself and to never show vulnerability.

    I google vulnerability and find Brené Brown’s TED talk, and suddenly I realize I have lived my entire life in fear. In survival mode.

    While survival is essential and served me at a time in life, it’s not really living.

    But somehow being vulnerable and depending on others feels scarier than a fistfight. Scarier than death.

    So, I know what I have to do. I have to let my protective angle go as he is no longer needed, and he is holding me back from living.

    I sign up for a course over the summer and jump on a plane to San Francisco.

    All these hippies are scary. They are so relaxed with touch. It makes me uncomfortable.

    They share things and cry, making my stomach cringe because I am terrified of having to do the same.

    I want everyone to see how strong and manly I am.

    It’s circle time. Oh, I hate these. And, this time we have to share vulnerability with the group.

    I am praying that someone will burst through the door and shoot me. It’s America, after all. But to my despair, nothing happens.

    As it becomes my turn, I am still alive. F…

    I can feel I am shaking.

    I tell the group about my son and the long, dark nights I would stand and cry in the living room, scared to my core that he would not be alive the next day.

    I never used to let anyone see me cry, as they had to think I had it all together. But I was scared, so scared.

    I finally break down and cry in front of the group. I cry like a baby.

    They all look at me with love and compassion. They even seem more connected to me, and I feel more connected to them.

    Something has happened that I have never experience before. I don’t even know these people, yet they now know me better than my ex-wife, family, or childhood friends.

    I feel I can finally be me. Strong and vulnerable.

    I get a friend of mine who is a masseuse to give me a gentle massage on my stomach and chest, as I know how much I dislike touch there.

    I don’t know why, but I can feel my body being tense and resisting.

    I close my eyes and slowly let go. As I let the tension go, I can feel a little hurt and violated child inside me cry, and I let it. I am in hippie land now, so why now?

    Something extraordinary happens. I am enjoying the touch. Yes, I really like it.

    It no longer feels irritating. As I leave the course, I realize touch is one of my love languages, and I can’t get enough.

    Who knew that summer would change my life?

    My friendships, my relationships, everything has changed since I came home.

    I feel more seen and accepted now that I’m more open, and I’m better able to see and accept the people around me, which helps them be more open too.

    I found the missing formula to intimacy and love, toward myself and others.

    And it’s not complicated. It just takes courage.

    Like a plant needs air, water, and sun to grow, love requires safety, vulnerability, and acceptance.

    I found the force. May the force be with you.

  • Dear Childhood Friends, Thank You and I Miss You

    Dear Childhood Friends, Thank You and I Miss You

    “Sweet is the memory of distant friends. Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.” ~Washington Irving

    Why is it that the older we seem to get the more and more we miss friendships from days long past?

    You know the ones…

    The friendships where you felt 100% happiness being in their presence.

    Where you felt as if you could be your true self—goofy, silly, honest, and real.

    Where you would get lost in conversations, imagination, and being fully present in the moment.

    Where you went on adventures, told them your secrets, and laughed until your bellies hurt.

    They knew you, and you knew them, and it just… clicked.

    You swore you would be BFF’s forever, maybe even got one of those adorable half-heart necklaces, but somehow along the journey your paths drifted.

    You wonder what happened; but you know what happened. Life happened. They went one way, you went another. 

    Leaving a sadness in your heart, you may or may not have been aware of at the time, because life simply went on.

    You met other friends, classmates, co-workers, acquaintances, and as you began to juggle all things life, career, and family the years passed by.

    Until one day, a photo of them pops in your social feed and the floodgates open up as you reminisce on the memories of a simpler time.

    Remembering how important that person was to you.

    How their friendship helped shape who you are today.

    How you truly were 100% yourself around them before life experiences dimmed your essence.

    You think about how much you miss that person in your life.

    About how you wish you hadn’t let the bond of friendship drift as your heart literally hurts.

    You think about reaching out to say hi. To tell them how important they were in your life. How grateful you are for the friendship you shared. 

    That you miss it.

    That you miss them.

    But you fear it would be weird.

    Justifying to yourself:

    They are too busy.

    They have their own life.

    It has been “too long.”

    And as your mind talks your heart out of reaching out, you breathe a heavy sigh and keep scrolling.

    —

    We have all had these friendships.

    And maybe not just one.

    At various stages in our lives we have those special friendships that go that ‘next level.’

    Whether it was your childhood friends, high school friends, college friends…

    There is something about the bond of growing through a time of transition with someone that creates an unshakable foundation.

    And it is not until you find yourself lost in the throes of adulting, longing for connection, that true-authentic-next-level connection that you reminisce and reflect on how special those bonds truly were. 

    Because no one tells you, when you transition into adulthood, parenthood, and midlife how badly you will miss those friendships more than you ever knew was possible.

    How creating authentic, soul-connecting friendships seems to be harder than it once was.

    And how these special friendships will forever be embedded in your heart.

    If you are like most, you may look back and feel some regrets.

    Regret for letting those friendships drift.

    Regret for not saying the things you wanted to say, or saying the things you wish you didn’t say.

    Regret you did not tell them how important they were to you and how they have shaped who you are today.

    Regret for not recognizing the specialness of the bond you shared.

    But the thing is, it is not too late.

    To tell that friend how much they meant to you.

    To apologize for something that you may still regret.

    To tell them how much you valued them.

    To tell them how much you cherished all of the laughs, the trials and tribulations and memories which were made.

    Because although you both may have grown separate ways through life, your roots are forever entwined. 

    So today, I challenge you to choose love.

    To choose bravery.

    To choose vulnerability.

    To choose connection…. re-connection.

    If you have a friend who’s been on your mind but have been hesitant to reach out and tell them how much they impacted your life, tag them in this post. Send them a little note. Add them on one of your social media platforms. Reach out and let them know you are thinking of them with no expectations, but simply to share a smile, a memory, a reminder of how much you value them.

    For what I would give to have one more conversation with one of my best friends who is no longer here.

    To tell her how much I admired her resilience, her dedication, her strong morals.

    To tell her I’m sorry for not being a good friend when I was consumed with my inner demons.  

    To thank her for some of the best memories I could have asked for.

    To tell her I valued her friendship, honesty and love more than anything and I only hope my daughter can have a friendship like we had.

    To thank her for giving me an empathetic ass kicking when I was in the throes of an eating disorder and binge drinking and saving my life.

    Be brave.

    Choose love.

    Choose connection.

    “Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I’m glad for that.” ~Ally Condie

  • How I Stopped Obsessing About the Wrong Things to Stay Healthy

    How I Stopped Obsessing About the Wrong Things to Stay Healthy

    “To change your life, you need to change your priorities.” ~Mark Twain

    Every year, come December, I used to obsess about air pollution. This was the time when my husband and I would take our young daughter to Poland, the country of my birth, to spend Christmas with the extended family. There my anxieties would hit the roof.

    Once the heating season kicks off, and the coal starts to burn in home furnaces, Polish air becomes unbreathable. The particle pollution may exceed norms by as much as 3000%. Some days you can actually feel the air burning the back of your throat, tasting of sulphur. And so I would keep the windows closed and forbid my daughter to venture outside.

    I purchased smog masks with the best of filters. I even considered skipping the Polish Christmas altogether and settling for some quite time with just the three of us in our tiny French village, enjoying the pristine air. That would be the responsible thing to do, right? After all, as a mother, my topmost priority is keeping my daughter—and us, her parents—in the best of health.

    In the meantime, however, I was writing stories on health and psychology, digging through hundreds of research papers a year and talking with dozens of scientists. And I finally came to realize what a mistake skipping Christmas in Poland would have been.

    The pollution, no matter how ghastly, was nowhere as important in terms of our family’s physical health as was spending time with relatives and friends, the more the better.

    There was one scientific paper which I found particularly striking: a large meta-analysis in which researchers looked at 148 studies with over 300,000 participants. The scientists noticed that people with stronger social relationships had a 50% higher chance of living to the end of that particular study—on average 7.5 years—than those who didn’t possess such healthy social capital.

    Some of the relationships were particularly life-prolonging. High quality marriage and friendships, plus being able to rely on neighbors, meant an astounding 60% lower mortality risk. To put it into perspective, lacking such relationships would have a far larger impact on longevity than smoking fifteen cigarettes a day (50% higher mortality), far larger than excessive drinking (30%) or leading the life of a couch potato (about 20%). Air pollution had a meagre 5% mortality risk.

    I was obviously worrying about wrong things. Denying my daughter, and myself, the joy of being surrounded by grandparents, aunts, uncles, and dozens of cousins, was far, far worse in terms of our health than whatever amounts of sulfur oxides linger in the Polish air.

    I got other things wrong, too. When my daughter was a toddler, I went through a vegetable obsession phase. We lived in Philadelphia at the time, walking distance from a well-stocked Whole Foods. That store was my heaven and hell all in one.

    Back then I believed that to stay healthy and live long my little family needed access to the best organic foods, the more varied the better (hence Whole Foods as heaven). I believed I needed kale and okra and enoki mushrooms. I needed organic raw honey and heirloom quinoa.

    Yet it was hell, too, because each shopping trip meant not only gazillion dollars spent, but also agonizing over which type of black rice was the best, or whether to buy baby arugula or broccoli raab. Wasting time that, as a working mother, I really did not have.

    But over the years I’ve learned that although proper diet is indeed important for health, it’s not the holy grail I’ve made it to be. Certainly no one needs heirloom quinoa to stay healthy. As long as you don’t overdo candy and fast food and get your five servings of fruits and vegetables per day (apples and carrots are perfectly fine), you will be okay.

    For me, the time I was squandering choosing organic greens would have been better spent volunteering, being mindful and kind to those around me.

    Consider the numbers: studies show that eating six servings of any fruit and veg per day can cut the danger of dying early by 26%. For volunteering, it may be even 44%. Simple kindness can tune our leukocyte genes less toward inflammation—which is a good thing, since chronic inflammation has been linked to such conditions as cancer, heart disease, and diabetes. Meanwhile, most so-called super foods have been vastly over hyped.

    All this made me wonder about the so-called French paradox—something I see all around me—my neighbors and friends eating plenty of fatty cheeses and sugary viennoiseries, and yet staying slim and healthy (the French are actually among the longest-lived nations on the planet).

    We often meet in our neighbors’ gardens for aperitif — a simple table will be set out on the grass, covered with snacks—greasy sausages (nitrates! Saturated fats!), baguette (simple carbs!), cakes, and plenty of wine. We would sit down for hours, eating, drinking, talking—and consider it dinner.

    Children would disappear into the wilderness of the garden, unsupervised, looking for bird nests and chasing bugs, from time to time reappearing to grab a bite of baguette or cheese. Healthy? Not by Whole Foods standards, no. But maybe it’s not that much about what the French eat, but how they eat—slowly, surrounded by others?

    My seven-year old French daughter absolutely refuses to eat by herself, and won’t touch her dinner or lunch unless someone sits down with her at the table—we’ve just had a scene about this a few days ago.

    That connection, that togetherness, may be what keeps the French arteries healthy. After all, science shows that our social hormones such as oxytocin and serotonin, our vagus nerve, our insula and amygdala in the brain, and even our gut microbes connect our physical health to how mindfully and socially we live our lives.

    It took years and hundreds of research papers to convince me, but I’ve learned my lessons. I no longer obsess about the best of organics. I no longer consider skipping holidays in Poland because of pollution. Instead, I pour my newfound time and energy into helping my neighbors, teaching my daughter kindness, meditating, being mindful, meeting my friends more often, and connecting with my husband, remembering to hold hands (to boost oxytocin).

    It helps us all stay healthy better than organic quinoa and the most pristine air. And as a side effect, it makes us extra happy, too.

  • How I Found the Secret to Happiness in the Jungle

    How I Found the Secret to Happiness in the Jungle

    “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” ~Mahatma Gandhi

    I’d like to bring it one step further and say, “Happiness is when what you feel, what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”

    Some people may argue that there is no need to add in “what you feel,” but I think there is. There is a difference between feeling and thinking.

    For example, I thought I wanted to be a travel writer, I said I was going to be a travel writer, and I did travel writing. By definition I should have been happy. But I wasn’t.

    Deep down I didn’t really want to be a travel writer, and my heart knew it. I liked writing and I liked traveling, and my thinking brain put the two together to come up with a career.

    Last October I flew to Mexico with three of my best mates. I had a writing gig in my back pocket and I also had my own personal blog, which I planned to keep updated. We would be spending three months traveling from Mexico all the way to Costa Rica, so I was sure to have plenty of material to write about.

    But only two weeks into the trip, I realized I didn’t like having to write about my travels, especially while I was still traveling. I much preferred immersing myself in the experiences rather than having to constantly step back from them to analyze each experience and write about it.

    It felt forced and unnatural. There was too much structure and not enough time to let thoughts simmer in my mind in order to make distinct connections. Another downside was that I would need to spend time alone in cafés each morning to write.

    This often led me to miss out on other great things that my friends were doing. While we were in Guatemala, I even missed the chance to see a jaguar in a local sanctuary, one sight I had been really hoping to experience.

    I soon gave up on travel writing and any efforts at blogging while I was traveling. I knew there would be plenty of time to write when I got home after I had time to digest it all.

    I realized that just because something makes sense in my head, doesn’t mean it’s what my heart truly wants. Deep down I feel like I knew I wouldn’t enjoy much of the hidden aspects of travel writing. But my head outplayed my heart’s instinct and only showed me the upsides and possibilities.

    So in order to be truly happy you must have harmony with what you feel in your heart, not just your head. Your heart must be aligned with your thoughts, words, and actions. And the heart should be the one that initiates the rest. Thoughts, words, and actions should follow what you feel in your heart.

    Maybe Gandhi implied this in his quote, but I feel it necessary to say it explicitly. The world we live in today can get muddled and complex, so having a guiding mantra that is specific can help direct us.

    The Call to Return Home

    Earlier this year I returned home to Ireland after spending a total of two years and three months traveling. While I was away, I spent plenty of time tapping into what my heart truly wanted for my future.

    There were moments where I wondered if I even wanted to return home. I thought about continuing the traveling lifestyle, seeing the whole world. I could work odd jobs when I needed more cash.

    When I think about it, I’m sure I would’ve been able to enjoy myself if I continued traveling. But the reason I didn’t choose it is because my heart wasn’t in it. My heart was yearning for that return home to Ireland.

    I was eager to return to my family and get started with my mission to reimagine Ireland’s education system. I believe education should empower young people to find love, joy, and fulfilment in their lives, not just prepare them for a limited number of careers.

    When My Calling Was Blinded by Pleasure

    There were many moments on my travels where I got caught up in the fun of drinking with good friends and I wondered if I really did want to go home to pursue this mission. One particularly memorable moment was when I was volunteering in the Treehouse hostel in Nicaragua.

    As I sat overlooking the jungle canopy, sipping on a cold beer after one of our wild jungle rave parties, I watched the morning sun pierce through the trees. I felt its warmth sooth my face, and any worries about the future were washed away as the refreshing beer slid down my throat. Tropical house music gently bounced from the speakers, and I was surrounded by friends who were all chatting and laughing.

    This is paradise, I thought. Why would I leave? Why put all my efforts into something that wasn’t guaranteed to give me immediate joy?

    I didn’t owe it to anyone to reimagine Ireland’s schools. Why not just live a carefree lifestyle, traveling to new places and finding new groups of friends to drink with and beautiful girls to chase?

    Seeing Things Clearly 

    Looking back now, I realize the endorphins rushing through my body were tricking me into believing I needed to seek more instant pleasures like these and forgo my grander visions. But once I sobered up and the newly made friends and beautiful girls disappeared, those feelings of joy wore off, only to be replaced with a profound feeling of emptiness.

    Deep down I yearned for real connection and a sense of purpose. Something I knew could only be found in a great love or a great mission.

    The freedom I felt in the jungle was euphoric, but I knew that it couldn’t be sustained. There was a fire in my belly that couldn’t be ignored. Moments of pleasure could dim the flame for a while, but they could never put out that spark that was pushing me to do something more.

    Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed my travels. I indulged in many pleasures and had a great time while doing it. I had lots of amazing experiences, met tons of great people, and learned countless lessons along the way.

    I’ve experienced the most blissful peace on top of mountains and the most painful loneliness at the bottom of them. My time spent traveling was an important part of my journey through life. One that I’ll always remember and always be grateful for.

    However, I knew that making the pursuit of pleasure my aim in life was dangerous. It was always destined to lead to a life of addiction and misery. I’m aware pleasure can bring me joy and satisfaction in the moment, but I also know those feelings never last.

    Where True Happiness Exists

    I am not saying I am giving up pleasure altogether, I still love drinking and things like sex and nice food are great too! I’m just putting my heart’s mission in front of my mind’s pleasure pursuit. My mission is what will bring me lasting joy and fulfilment.

    My casual indulgences in pleasures will simply bring me all I expect from them. Momentary pleasure.

    I urge people to experience the fullness of life through travel. Try the things you’ve always dreamed of trying. Indulge in pleasures and enjoy them in the moment. Just remember that the joy they bring will not last forever.

    Lasting joy and fulfillment must come from within. When you are living in line with what your heart believes is right. When what you think, say, and do is in harmony with what you feel. Pursue that great love or that great mission when they ignite inside. When you do, you won’t need to seek happiness. Happiness will find you.

  • Why We Feel Lonely and What to Do About It

    Why We Feel Lonely and What to Do About It

    “At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want.” ~Lau Tzu

    With social distancing measures in place in response to the new coronavirus, many of us have a lot more time on our hands, while also being isolated.

    This may also mean you’re feeling loneliness more intensely than you’ve experienced it before.

    This is a good thing! Challenges can help us to understand ourselves on a much deeper level than we would have if we weren’t challenged—precisely because our feelings are more intense.

    Loneliness is not new. It was around long before COVID-19, and it will be here long after this phase of isolation passes. So, whether you’re used to feeling lonely, or if it’s something new for you, this is an opportunity to connect to your heart and grow. But first you need to understand the true source of your loneliness.

    Alone vs. Lonely

    Some of us can be on our own and feel very comfortable and peaceful, while others will feel lonely when they’re by themselves. Then there are people who feel alone and lonely even when they’re with friends or surrounded by people.

    There’s a big difference between being alone and feeling lonely.

    Being alone is simply being on your own.

    Feeling lonely is your experience, which can happen regardless of whether you’re on your own or not.

    What is loneliness?

    Loneliness is a feeling we experience when we get caught up in judgments and insecurities about ourselves or our relationships.

    You might feel lonely because you feel like you have no one to talk to, or no one understands you, because you feel different to everyone else. I resonate with that!

    You might feel lonely because you deeply desire to connect with other people, even if just through Skype or Zoom, but maybe it feels emotionally unsafe to do so. You’ve seen how people can treat each other, or you’ve been hurt before, so now you’re not sure if you can trust people. I’ve been there!

    Maybe you want to have deep and meaningful conversations with people, but all you get is shallow everyday chit chat. Yes, that gets tiring very fast! You’re trying to connect with someone, but you feel alone because there’s no depth of connection.

    I’ve often wished people would either speak from their heart or just enjoy the silence.

    Maybe you’re very sensitive to other people’s energy (which is a superpower, just FYI), but the only way you currently know how to manage it and feel safe is to be on your own, even though you crave connection.

    Or maybe you feel left out because the people around you all like the same things, but you don’t.

    Sports, Connection, and Fitting In

    From my mid-teens through to mid-twenties, when many of my friends and the people I knew were starting to drink, smoke, and party, I really did feel alone.

    I loved playing sports. The one that excited me the most was ice hockey. Growing up in Australia it definitely wasn’t one of our most popular sports, but I loved it! The speed, dynamism, intensity, and flow really brought something out of me. Now that I live in Canada, it’s everywhere.

    This competitive team sport brought a sense of connection that also touched my heart. The feeling of relying on each other during a game made me feel much bigger than myself. Being connected on a deeper level, knowing how everyone would move or where they’d be on the ice without having to think about it, made me feel so alive and connected.

    I have very fond memories of playing and training with my teammates—the intensity of emotion during a game and then the ability to let it go afterward.

    But for me there was a split. I felt this sense of connection during a match or training, but then there was a loneliness that came after. Because I didn’t care for any of the usual post-game celebrations of drinking and going out to bars or clubs. I much preferred to come home after a game and relax and watch a movie.

    Knowing they were all out after a game sometimes made me feel lonely. I tried doing the drinking thing a handful of times in an attempt to fit in, but it never stuck. I just didn’t like it! So I didn’t do it.

    I’d sometimes go out with friends and just drink water while they drank alcohol. But this wasn’t much better, because I didn’t like what it did to people, and I didn’t like being around the energy of drinking.

    So even when I did go out, I still felt alone because I just couldn’t connect on this level.

    What I really wanted after a match was my quiet time.

    I was still in my early twenties when I accepted that I just preferred time on my own, but it didn’t stop that feeling of occasional loneliness.

    The interesting thing about feeling lonely is that you’re not alone in feeling it. Even though it might feel like that for you, it’s a common experience that touches most people’s life at some point.

    Loneliness and Disconnection

    When we experience loneliness, it’s only possible because of an underlying feeling of disconnection. We often associate loneliness with being disconnected from other people, which is true, but to understand loneliness, we need to realize that it all starts with how disconnected we are from ourselves.

    When I’d come home after a hockey game while my teammates went out drinking, I’d feel lonely because some part of me wanted to maintain that feeling of connection with them. Part of me wanted to be able to do what they wanted to do (go out and drink), but at the same time part of me had no desire to do it.

    As long as I judged myself for not going out with them, I’d feel lonely. I wasn’t accepting myself, which created a feeling of disconnection inside me.

    But as I came to accept that I was different, and I liked time on my own and a quiet night at home, the feeling of loneliness started to fade away. This self-acceptance got me out of my head and back into my heart, where I could feel a peacefulness start to emerge as I simply enjoyed my quiet night stretching or watching a movie without any self-judgment.

    Being quietly present with myself, enjoying what I enjoyed, brought a feeling of connectedness inside me—the thing I thought I’d get by going out with my teammates after a game.

    This wasn’t one incredible moment of realization after which I never felt lonely again. It was a gradual process. There were times when I’d come home while my friends went out, where I’d still feel that familiar loneliness return.

    But I’d gained an understanding of why I felt lonely—a disconnection from myself through a lack of self-acceptance. In times when the feeling of loneliness would return, if I’d come back to being present with myself the loneliness would again fade… like a muscle that needed to be strengthened.

    When I reflect on this time in my life, I always find it fascinating to realize that my friends never judged me for not wanting to go out. I was always welcome to join them. They’d accepted me for who I was. It was only me who didn’t accept me, and that was a source of disconnection and loneliness.

    Finding Connection

    This doesn’t mean I became a hermit with no human interaction. Yes, I can feel very at peace on my own, but I also love connecting with people. You just won’t find me doing it in an environment where people are getting drunk.

    I love having deep conversations. I love connecting and getting to know people. If I’m talking to you, I want to know who you are. I have a never-ending curiosity to understand what makes people who they are, and a sensitivity to feel others’ pain.

    When we experience loneliness, there’s a wanting to feel connected and connect with others, but the disconnection inside us creates a closing in our heart, and we get caught ruminating about the thing we don’t have (connection).

    The thoughts will fuel more emotional reaction and disconnection, which then create even more thoughts—a vicious cycle that can go on and on continually feeding itself.

    And then when we encounter other people and have an opportunity to connect, we might not even be able to be present with them because we’re still caught up in our heads, judging ourselves and our experiences.

    When we feel more present and accepting of ourselves, we can also feel a wanting to connect with others, but now there’s an openness in our heart.

    Our heart is the part of us that feels connection. Connection to our self—the essence of who we truly are, beyond the dramas and stories that fill our mind—and connection to other people, animals, nature, and creation.

    When we’re present and connected to our heart, we might be peacefully content on our own, or we may be inspired to go and connect with people. We don’t have to feel lonely to want to connect with people. The goal is to allow choices like these to flow from our heart.

    If you’ve been through challenging or traumatic life situations that have left you feeling broken, ashamed, or otherwise disconnected from yourself, it’s possible you have a harder time connecting to your heart. That’s okay.

    It’s also possible you have a hard time connecting with other people, perhaps because you’ve never felt a sense of belonging, and you live in a constant state of judgment and insecurity. That’s okay too.

    If you start by creating a connection to yourself, it will be much easier to connect with others, and in the times when you’re on your own you won’t feel that same overwhelming sense of loneliness.

    What can you do to connect with yourself when you’re feeling lonely?

    Meditate

    Meditation teaches us how to find a space of quiet inside our self. A simple stillness and acceptance.

    We don’t realize the heavy burden and the impact of our thoughts and self-judgments until we have a moment of inner quiet. In the quiet we can comprehend the burden we carried because by contrast it’s not there.

    Over the years of teaching meditation, one of the words I’ve noticed that people often express when they start a consistent practice of meditation is “relief.” A relief from the burden they didn’t realize they were carrying.

    The quiet relief brings an opening in the heart and a feeling of connection. But remember, it does take practice (like learning any other skill).

    Gentle yoga

    I’ve always preferred very slow and mindful holding of postures. It allows us to bring our awareness into our body through being present to our physical sensations. Remember, loneliness is a feeling with its own sensations.

    Often when we experience intense emotions we disconnect from our body, because we become caught in our thoughts (fueled by the emotions), which amplifies everything. Reconnecting to our body helps us to anchor ourselves into feeling—and it’s the feeling that will help slow the thinking (and overthinking).

    Connecting our body through feeling (not thinking about it or judging it) helps shift us to a place of acceptance.

    Follow the feeling

    Take time to just sit quietly and be present with your loneliness. No judgment. Just feeling it.

    If your mind wanders into thoughts, stories, emotional reactions, or dramas, just acknowledge that and bring your awareness back to the feeling of loneliness. This is where the practice of meditation is so valuable, because it teaches you the skill of how to simply be present.

    If you can allow yourself to consciously feel and be present with the feeling of loneliness (not wallow in it), you’ll learn more about the source of your loneliness. It may not always be comfortable, but it’s about being present and accepting of what is actually there for you.

    Be curious

    With all that you do, approach it with an attitude of non-judgmental curiosity. This helps ensure you won’t be too serious or hard on yourself. Curiosity makes things more enjoyable.

    And remember, you’re not alone!

    There are other’s just like you (well, not exactly like you, you’re unique!), who have these same thoughts and feelings and who are experiencing loneliness as a result.

    As you come to understand more about your own experience of loneliness, you’ll discover you understand more about others. Loneliness is inherent to the human experience and the world needs more people who understand.

    Understanding is what brings us together. Understanding is a form of connection.

  • The Life-Changing Benefits of Two-Minute Meditations

    The Life-Changing Benefits of Two-Minute Meditations

    “Smile, breathe, and go slowly.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    I felt everything, from my lower back pain flaring up to tightness in my jaw where I clinch and carry my stress. With my eyes still closed, I rolled my shoulders and repositioned the pillow under my butt. Five minutes had passed, and I had no idea how I would ever make it to forty.

    I opened my left eye to see if anyone around me was fidgeting as well and saw rows of people sitting in perfect, cross-legged lotus position with straight necks and relaxed jaws next to me.

    Our teacher, mindfulness author David Richo, sat in front, a relaxed calm floating around him like morning mist. I sighed, shut my eye again, and tried to concentrate on not concentrating so I could make it through the rest of the group meditation.

    Once I remembered that I’d forgotten to pick up my dry cleaning and that I still hadn’t called my best friend back, I relaxed a little more and tried to just “be.” I heard a rooster crowing in the wilderness above the Spirit Rock property, noticed it, and let it go. I re-recognized the back pain and let that go as well.

    Next, I heard what sounded like a cross between a snorting pig and an old rusty shed door opening up. The crackling sound lasted a couple of seconds before it caused my body to jerk and jolt both of my eyes open.

    I looked around confused. No one else moved, and I realized that the sound had come from my nasal passages. I had fallen asleep and snored on or around the twenty-seven-minute mark.

    Mortified, I clasped my hand to my mouth, shut my eyes tight, and prayed to disappear. So much negative talk flooded my brain, I had to stop it right down at, “You suck at this. Who are you trying to be here, Michelle?”

    I nervously picked up my notebook and reread what David had taught us that day. To be healthy, we must be kind and patient with ourselves.

    I took a deep breath and remembered that my meditation skills were new, and that forty minutes simply might have been too much to expect at that particular time in my life. Despite my attempts at self-compassion, my cheeks still burned with red embarrassment.

    I didn’t feel like trying again, so I sat quietly and continued to review my notes from Richo’s lecture while the rest of the group finished. I pined over the snore for the remainder of the afternoon and found it impossible to simply love myself for being human.

    In Eat, Pray, Love, Liz Gilbert writes about spending entire days struggling to meditate at an Ashram in India. I remember, when the book came out, reading a FAQs page on her website where she addressed questions and encouraged beginners not to start out at the ashram. Hours of meditation are difficult even for experienced meditators. Forty minutes is still hard for me.

    What I have found is that I am much more comfortable practicing small doses of meditation throughout a day, rather than forcing myself to plan extended stretches that make me so anxious, I end up avoiding the meditation all together. Even just two minutes can make a tremendous difference.

    Meditation and yoga force us to sit with ourselves. That means we sit with anything we are avoiding, as well as anything that is hurting us mentally and/or spiritually. I have a tendency to avoid feeling discomfort.

    So, sitting still is incredibly counter-intuitive for me and, I believe, many other people. By going easy on myself with how long I “should” sit, I am more likely to sit at all.

    Through practicing short meditations, I have seen the positives in my life grow and the negatives decrease.

    Self-Compassion 

    I’ve cultivated more self-compassion through meditation. The more I can get quiet and turn the Michelle who is a “human-doing” off, the gentler I am with myself. By giving myself the time to be still, even if it’s for two minutes, I am showing self-love and learning to become more comfortable in my skin. In that stillness, I am able to see where I am self-critical in a clearer way.

    For instance, in meditation, I often criticize myself for not being able to quiet my mind enough. I also look at what I didn’t accomplish that day rather than what I did. Inside of the practice, I am given the space to see these things so I can bring compassion to my critical mind and practice loving kindness instead.

    Acceptance of Discomfort

    When I can sit with painful feelings, I usually realize fairly quickly that the wolf at the door wasn’t as big as I thought. Meditation reminds me that I am more than capable of handling the thing I am dealing with.

    Some of the biggest discomfort I encounter is related to conflict with others. Even if the problem is small, like when I had to ask my guitar teacher to stop texting during our lesson last week, I still feel uncomfortable. My teacher kindly apologized, and once again I remembered that conflict is part of life. Meditation helps me to approach conflict with grace and to remind myself that the world isn’t going to end if someone reacts negatively when I speak up.

    Pronounced pain, like disagreements with family members, takes more time for me to process. The strength that’s grown out of facing that pain through meditation, has helped me to approach uncomfortable emotions with less fear.

    Compassion for Others

    Sometimes when I meditate, I send out positive energy toward people I’m not super fond of. I bring compassion for them into my body and out into the universe, and I feel less pissed off as a result. I wish for them the best of everything, and this often helps me to let go of the thing I was mad about in the first place.

    I don’t understand why this happens, but it does, and holding as little negative energy as possible eases tension and makes me gravitate toward the next meditation.

    Ability to Pause

    The more I meditate, the more I am able to pause in tough real-life situations where I might have reacted in the past.

    Road rage comes to mind here. Most of us have gotten mad at someone else’s driving skills at some point. What I think about now in the pause is that I don’t know what the other driver is going through or who else is in the car. I usually have no context as to why they are driving the way they are. Where I used to honk, now I can wait and calmly move around them.

    A yogi once told me, “Imagine that driver is a cow standing in the parking space you want. You would probably laugh and just find another space. When it’s a person, why do we suddenly rush to honk and yell?”

    Meditation simply makes me calmer. It is far from perfect, but it has given me more of a capacity to marinate before I respond to sticky situations.

    Increased Connection

    Meditating reminds me that I am a tiny part of an incredibly larger whole. My problems feel smaller when I can stop and remember that I am a grain of sand in a giant universe. The practice puts life, and my place in the world, into perspective.

    It really doesn’t take much to experience these benefits. Two minutes of meditation can make a huge difference. Focus on your breath. When you think of or hear something, notice it, and then get back to your breathing. See how you feel, and then, if you’re able, work your way up.

    You can sit quietly, or you can also listen to the myriad of guided meditations available through YouTube, iTunes, and many other platforms. Sometimes it helps in the beginning to listen to a nice soft voice telling you what to do.

    There are also meditations that include cool music with those bowl sounds as well. Just make sure the sounds aren’t so relaxing that they put you to sleep and then you snore in front of 200 people. Let it go, Michelle.

    I could be better and more consistent with meditating. I could also harness more self-compassion and less negative self-talk. I know that the more I meditate in short increments, the closer I will get to achieving these things.

  • 10 Things You Need to Know to Maintain Strong Friendships

    10 Things You Need to Know to Maintain Strong Friendships

    “A friend is someone with whom you dare to be yourself.” ~Frank Crane

    Studies show that feeling connected to other people is a core human need. A sense of connection impacts not only on our mental health but also our physical well-being. It reduces our risk of disease and increases longevity.

    While the research is clear, statistics also suggest that our level of social connectedness is declining. Social media might help us be more widely connected, but it doesn’t usually replace the connection we experience in offline friendships.

    It seems that as adults we aren’t that good at friendships. People complain that it’s hard to make friends and maintain existing friendships after leaving school. It’s largely because we are busy with jobs and families, but I wonder whether there are other reasons outside of those external circumstances.

    Growing up I had a very specific ideal of what “true friendship” looked like, which I had primarily picked up from books, TV, and movies: You have a best friend who you share everything with, hang out with 24/7 and grow old with—through thick and thin and of course happily ever after.

    Only my reality looked different, which in itself made me feel that there was something wrong with me.

    I also struggled because I felt like an outsider. I am mixed race (half Chinese, half German), was born and raised in Germany, and grew up very conscious of looking different, which is something I simply cannot hide. My parents told me to be proud of being different, but I wanted nothing more than to blend in because I felt that my difference isolated me.

    I was a painfully shy kid. I always found it difficult to approach other kids and I began feeling invisible to the world.

    I wanted to belong so badly and would have done anything to fit in, but because I had convinced myself that I was too different, I eventually stopped trying. Instead, I pretended I didn’t care about not being part of the group. I didn’t want anyone to see that I was upset. On the outside I seemed self-confident and strong, but always faked it and never made it (until much later in life). In short, I was doing the opposite of being myself.

    The belief that nobody noticed me stuck with me into adulthood until I eventually realized that I hadn’t been invisible but rather I had been hiding. I had built a solid wall around me.

    As an adult I can see that I probably wasn’t all that different from the others. How many of us grow up thinking we need to pretend to be someone we are not in order to belong and to be loved? How many of us still do this now as adults? And how ironic is it that by wearing a mask we achieve the opposite of what we intend and basically make it impossible to experience true connection?

    Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about letting people in and creating meaningful connections. And I’ve come a long way from that insecure little girl who hid behind a wall and felt chronically isolated. If you’ve struggled to form and maintain friendships, perhaps my lessons may help.

    1. Not all friendships are created equal.

    Friendships are not a “one size fits all” kind of affair but rather come in different shapes and forms. A friend doesn’t have to cater to all your needs. It’s more natural to have friends for different areas of your life. That doesn’t make any one friend “less than,” but it feels much healthier than placing undue expectations on one person.

    For example, a lot of my close friends live far away and we no longer share our everyday lives with each other, but I know I can still rely on them. Then there are people I’ve just met. While sometimes I instantly click with people, with others it takes longer to connect deeply. I also have loose acquaintances, and while we might not discuss our deepest thoughts, it’s still fun to connect through experiences and mutual interests.

    Once we open our minds to what friendship can look like, we will gain access to connections that would have otherwise gone under our radar.

    2. Connection is a two-way street.

    The quality of connection is made up of what both of you are putting in. And the connection is likely to break apart if you expect what you are not prepared to give.

    This doesn’t just apply to what you are willing to do for the other person. Are you fully showing up as yourself? Are you allowing others to really see you? And are you prepared to really see the other person, too, including the more challenging things that can feel heavy and painful?

    3. People can only honor your needs and wishes if you communicate them.

    We often expect others not only to read our minds but also to be on the same page as us on all matters. Chances are that if you haven’t clearly communicated what you expect from your friend, they might have no idea.

    But also, remind yourself you have no “right” to others fulfilling your needs and wishes. Be prepared that others aren’t able or don’t want to give what you would like them to give you.

    You know that saying “In times of crisis, you find out who your real friends are”? Well, I don’t entirely agree with that. It assumes that there is an unwritten rule about how friends need to behave, but there can be multiple reasons why they might not be able to be there for you to the extent you expect them to.

    When my mum passed away, for example, my friends reacted in different ways. I totally understand that a lot of people find death highly uncomfortable and simply too terrifying to talk about, so, I accepted that I wasn’t able to talk about it with all of my friends.

    Fortunately, some friends were able to be there for me. This experience taught me to formulate my needs and ask for help. On some days, the support I needed was to be able to talk and cry and on other days, I wanted to be left alone. The only way for my friends to know was for me to tell them.

    4. You don’t need to agree on everything.

    Maybe this is just me, but I feel an urge to agree with my friends on everything. Disagreements on even the smallest of issues cause me a certain level of discomfort. Of course, this is where the cycle of not being myself begins: by not saying what I really want in order not to upset the other person. That’s what compromise is for though, right?

    I am therefore teaching myself to remember that it’s okay to disagree and to learn to accept that niggling feeling of discomfort that I still feel, even when I know this won’t affect the friendship overall.

    That being said, sometimes disagreement is a sign that someone isn’t a person I want to be friends with—there are certain no-gos, certain things that just aren’t okay with me. Get clarity on your no-gos and stop sweating about the rest.

    5. You don’t have to like each other all the time.

    This for sure is another remnant of my Hollywood friendship ideal. Do you like yourself all the time? I don’t. I can be moody or thoughtless. I have characteristics I don’t like and that I am working on changing.

    The same goes for every other person. And not only do we all have bad days and do stupid things sometimes; we might also have spleens or characteristics that are annoying to others. But they are likely outweighed by our loveliness . If so, maybe you can accept them in your friends and focus on all the rest instead of getting worked up over them or trying to change them.

    6. Friendships need appreciation to flourish.

    Don’t take friendships for granted, whether it’s the little or the big things: tell and show the other person that they are appreciated and loved, and express your gratitude. Especially when we have known somebody for a long time, we may expect them to just know how we feel. And chances are they do, but it’s always nice to hear it, too.

    7. Not everyone will give as much as you give.

    Just the way we set our own boundaries and decide what we are prepared to give, everyone else has the same right. And everyone’s boundaries are different.

    While solid friendships naturally involve give and take, it shouldn’t be about tit for tat. Don’t keep count and don’t expect reciprocity for everything you are giving into the friendship. Give because you want to, not because you feel obligated or because you want something in exchange.

    8. Grudges erode relationships.

    I am pretty good at holding a grudge. I also know that it’s my coping mechanism for trying to protect myself from getting hurt and disappointed again.

    Here’s a secret: It doesn’t work! Also, is it worth proving that you were “right”? Do you even know for sure that you were “right”? Put yourself in the other person’s shoes: Can you understand where they are coming from? Communicate when you are upset, clear the air, and move on. But remember:

    9. Strong friendships require strong boundaries.

    Boundaries are so important, and a lot of us are unfortunately not very good at a) identifying our boundaries b) ensuring they are honored, and c) walking away when they are not.

    Personally, I have two main areas where I am still learning to communicate my boundaries: First, I’m part introvert and as much as I enjoy socializing, it can also feel depleting. Saying no to an invite or leaving a gathering when my limit has been reached still doesn’t come easy but it’s getting easier. It’s a matter of taking my own needs seriously as well as explaining them to my friends.

    Secondly, people tend to find it easy to open up to me and often come to me for advice. As much as I want to help people and especially support my friends, I am still figuring out where my boundary is. I don’t want to take on a one-sided role of “counselor” in a friendship, since this inevitably leaves me feeling resentful. I am aware this is as much about me naturally putting myself in that role as it is about people’s expectations of me.

    10. People change.

    Are you the same person you were ten years ago? Even one year ago?

    We all change, and especially when we’ve known somebody for a while, it’s easy to assume that we know everything about them.

    I love this quote by George Bernard Shaw: “The only man I know who behaves sensibly is my tailor; he takes my measurements anew each time he sees me. The rest go on with their old measurements and expect me to fit them.”

    Are you still listening? Are you curious? Are you taking an interest?

    Sometimes we change so much that we drift apart, and that’s okay. The fact that we may grow so far apart that we no longer want to be friends doesn’t take away from all the joy and fun we had in the past.

    Though I have long since bid farewell to my warped idealistic friendship model, I do make a conscious decision about who I want to spend my time with. And the criteria for that can change over time and are for me to decide.

    My only advice is this: don’t be quick to discard relationships from a place of disappointment, hurt feelings, a bruised ego, or even a sense of revenge.

    If somebody means something to you, talk to them. Figure out a new way to be friends going forward—one that works for both of you. But also accept that people are not there to adhere to your expectations or to the image you built up of them in your head.

    And remember that connections in whatever form add immeasurably to the quality of our lives. Let’s open our hearts and minds to experience more of them!