Tiny Buddha

Tag: critical

  • 5 Ways to Heal from a Highly Critical, Controlling Parent

    5 Ways to Heal from a Highly Critical, Controlling Parent

    “You’ve been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise Hay

    When I was growing up, it felt like nothing was good enough for my dad. And all I longed for was his acceptance and love.

    He had this temper that would blow up, and he’d blame me for how he felt. He would outright tell me his behavior was my fault. That if I’d behaved better, he wouldn’t have had an outburst.

    When he told me I wasn’t enough or worthy, I believed him. I was constantly walking on eggshells around him, trying to not annoy him, as his angry words would really hurt.

    The confusing thing about my dad was that he wasn’t like this all the time. Sometimes he was loving, affectionate, and warm, and then in a moment he would switch to cold, controlling, and cruel.

    As a child, I believed to my core that I was the problem. The only way I thought I could keep myself safe was to try and please him and be the perfect daughter.

    I became obsessed with achievement. It started first with my grades and school, and then it was getting the job he wanted me to have. Because sometimes an achievement would get me a crumb of love from him. I would push myself as a child, forsaking rest and hydration at times, so he would see how hard I’d worked.

    But it was never enough for him. He would lose his temper on the one day that I was taking a break, telling me that I would never amount to anything.

    He would even tell other people how awful his family was when he was drunk. It was beyond humiliating.

    Now, at forty-one, these memories with my dad are in the past, but they still haunt me. He has since passed—he took his life fifteen years ago. Turns out my dad wasn’t okay and was struggling with the impact of his own childhood trauma.

    But rather than seeking help, he took it out on his family and himself through addiction and, ultimately, his suicide.

    His controlling, critical voice still lives in my subconscious mind. It’s his voice that tells me to work harder or that I am not good enough, or questions, “Who do you think you are?”

    Even though I consciously know now, as a trauma transformation coach, that his behavior was due to his pain and his words were not the truth, the younger parts of me still believe him. Because those younger parts still feel blamed, shamed, and not enough.

    After his passing, I found myself in relationships where others would criticize, control, and deny my reality, and found myself powerless again, just as I’d felt as a little girl.

    But by investing in various safe spaces, like support groups, therapy, and coaching, I have been able to step away from these relationships or maintain boundaries so that my younger self is no longer triggered by the pain of the past. This has created space for kinder, more loving relationships to come in.

    However, more recently I noticed that even though I’d stepped away from toxic relationships, I had become him to myself. I would speak to myself critically and put myself down. Nothing was good enough, and I would push myself to achieve at any cost, going through cycles of overworking and burnout.

    I would push myself to have the ‘perfect body’ with extreme exercise and diet. But then my inner rebel would push back and sabotage the diet and my health through emotional eating.

    Constantly pushing myself to be better, I realized, unconsciously, I was still chasing his love. His acceptance even though he wasn’t here.

    I had become the controlling critical parent to myself. It was time for me to become the parent I’d longed for and not the parent I’d had.

    Here are the five practices that are helping me to heal from my controlling, critical parent—practices that could help you too.

    1. I ask myself: Am I being kind to myself?

    I have created a pattern interrupter by asking myself, at least three times a day, if I am being kind to myself and, if not, how I can be. I notice my behaviors and inner dialogue and explore how I can shift into kindness.

    For example, if I don’t sleep well, is it kind to push myself with a cardio workout and long day of work, or would it be better to go for a walk in nature and take a slower pace?

    Or, if I am speaking to myself without self-compassion, is there a more loving way to communicate with myself rather than being nasty?

    Each day I make a conscious choice to step into that kind energy. I treat myself how I wish he had treated me.

    2. I celebrate myself weekly.

    Each Sunday, I reflect on what I am proud of and celebrate myself, even if I’ve done something small, like being consistently kind to myself. I become the cheerleading parent I longed for, and this builds self-esteem.

    3. I use affirmations.

    I affirm throughout the day that I am safe and enough. That I don’t have to prove my worth or people-please. I can just be me. This helps soothe the critical voice that goes into past fear stories.

    I use affirmations to say I love and care for myself. That I am my biggest priority.

    4. I listen to my body and choose to take care of it.

    Instead of pushing myself physically, I ask myself: How should I nourish myself? Or how should I move my body? What shouldn’t I put into it out of love? I check in with myself if I need rest or if a certain relationship or situation is causing me physical and mental stress. I speak kindly about my body rather than shaming it for not being enough.

    5. I reparent the parts of me that are in pain from the past.

    My dad will always be part of my story. I can’t change the past, but I can take care of the different parts of me that were hurt. I can show those parts kindness and love through reparenting and inner-child work.

    My favorite practice is going back in time to visit my younger self. I give her a hug, ask her how she feels, and then do whatever I can to fulfill her needs. I soothe the hurting parts of her rather than getting her to perform and achieve.

    Some days my old behaviors come out, but I use the question “Am I being kind to myself?” to get myself back on track. I also practice self-compassion and forgiveness, as I would never say the things I have said to myself to others.

    —

    If you can relate to what I wrote because you had a similar parent, step into being the parent you wished for yourself. Because a happy, loved, affirmed child is better able to live a happy, healthy life than a bullied child that hates herself. Give yourself the gift of love and kindness and watch your story transform.

  • How I’m Winning Over My Inner Critic by Letting It Exist

    How I’m Winning Over My Inner Critic by Letting It Exist

    “Winning the war of words inside your soul means learning to defy your inner critic.” ~Steven Furtick

    We all have that voice in our head, the voice that’s always negative about ourselves. Our inner voice.  Our inner critic.

    The one that tells us we’re not good enough, not smart enough, not attractive enough. That voice that continuously compares us to other people, so we come up lacking and feeling less than.

    Sometimes that voice is our own. Other times, and for some people, maybe those of us who have felt unloved or disliked by a significant person in our lives, that voice belongs to them.

    Then there are times when that inner critic will take on the voice of multiple people. A parent, a past lover who jilted us, and an abusive boss, for example. It can be quite the party in our heads, and not always a good one!

    For a while, the voice in my head belonged to my mom.

    It became a lot more frequent after she passed away. And a lot more persistent. Her best times to chat with me were always during my morning and evening routines. 

    Why? I haven’t quite figured that out yet. Maybe it was because, during those times, especially with my morning ritual, I was prepping to present my best self to my world, doing my makeup and fixing up my hair. What better time to be critical, right?

    In the mornings as I prepared for the day, I heard how my skin care routine didn’t matter, I was going to get old anyway, and look old. The makeup I applied didn’t make me look any better. The affirmations I wrote on the bathroom mirror were stupid and useless.

    Anything I did to make myself better and healthier didn’t matter. I could never change, and I could never improve myself. Regardless of how much I tried, or how much effort I put in, I would never be good enough. Never enough period.

    At times, I think there was an undercurrent of jealousy. Maybe because I wanted to improve my life, that I wanted so much more from life. More than what she wanted for herself and for me.

    When she was alive, I definitely felt this was why she found so many faults with me and pointed out all my shortcomings. It would make sense, then, that any critical thoughts I had about myself could so easily be transferred to her image, and in her voice.

    I can understand those feelings and see why her feelings came out the way they did. Fears held her back from becoming more, from wanting more. And just possibly, those were my fears too, but now being heard via her voice. Fears of never really becoming who I want to be, of never being enough.

    Sometimes it’s easier to deal with our negative thoughts if we can make someone else responsible for them. Have someone else own them. It takes the burden off of me to change my thinking if I can tell myself these negative thoughts are coming from my mom.

    For a long time, during those morning and evening chats, I argued back. I got very defensive. And I felt like everything I was doing was useless and worthless. During those times it felt like she was right. That my inner critic was spot-on.

    Then one day I got quiet. Maybe I was exhausted with this daily dialogue. I don’t know. But I got quiet. I decided to just let her talk without reacting to what she said. No more arguing. I just smiled, a gentle unconcerned smile, and continued with my routine.

    I let everything that was being said just sit in the space around us. I heard it but didn’t take it in.

    My intention now was to observe. I wasn’t belittling her feelings by ignoring her, I just simply observed and let her talk, giving her voice the space to speak and to be heard. Periodically, I responded with something like, “Yeah, I can see why you think that.”

    For a while this became the style of our regular chats. The new dialogue that the voice in my head was speaking. The negative remarks, the catty remarks, and the put-downs, all drawing a quiet and unconcerned smile, with no negative response from me.

    Before long it changed again. My mom-in-my-head, instead of chastising me for wasting my efforts, became inquisitive. The voice started making positive remarks about the products I used and the affirmations I wrote on the mirror. She became curious. That voice started asking positive questions, empowering questions. Questions that were now on my side—with me, not against me.

    It’s very possible that the reason my inner voice, my inner critic, has taken on the voice of my mom is that I still very much want the approval from her that I felt I never received while she was alive. I will never actually get it now that she is gone, and that’s something I have to accept. But this may be another way that I can maybe feel like I get it, even just a little.

    Perhaps it’s how I can get the approval from myself that I’m seeking too. The belief that I am indeed becoming the person I want to be. That I am indeed enough.

    I’m reminded of this saying, “We can’t control how other people act; we can only control our own reaction.”

    Sure, this inner voice is mine, maybe sounding like someone I know. And one would think we can control our inner voices. But if it were only as easy as that, no one would ever struggle with self-doubt, and at times self-loathing.

    Learning to control that inner voice is like controlling a temper-tantrum-filled two-year-old. Eventually do-able, but it takes herculean effort!

    The method that’s currently working for me is to let that voice speak. Meeting it with a gentle smile and letting it flow around me, without landing on me. Being observant but unconcerned. 

    Over and over, as long as it takes. Because soon that inner voice will be curious about what’s happening with me, what’s working for me, what it is that is bringing me such peace.

    Perhaps the same is true for you. Maybe instead of trying to make your inner critic go away, you just need to let it exist. When you observe your self-critical thoughts without fighting or attaching to them, you take a little of their power away. And maybe as you take your power back your inner voice will slowly transform into something softer, gentler, and on your side, because it can finally see it’s a good place to be.

  • Where Our Inner Critic Comes from and How to Tame It

    Where Our Inner Critic Comes from and How to Tame It

    “Your inner critic is simply a part of you that needs more self-love.” ~Amy Leigh Mercee

    We all have that critical and judgmental inner voice that tells us we’re not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, etc.

    It tells us we don’t do anything right. It calls us stupid. It compares us to other people and speaks harshly about ourselves and our bodies. It tells us all the things we did or said “wrong” after communicating or connecting with someone.

    Sometimes it projects criticism outward onto others so we can feel better about ourselves. Other times we try to suppress our inner critic through overachieving, being busy, and accumulating more and more things.

    Sometimes it’s a protective mechanism that’s trying to keep us focused on our self-judgments so we won’t be authentic, because, if we are, we may be rejected and not get the love and acceptance we want.

    But, by doing this, we’re creating even more pain and suffering because we’re disconnecting from and rejecting our own essence.

    Just ignoring the critical voice doesn’t always make it go away. It may initially, but soon enough it will resurface if we haven’t healed/embraced our hurts, traumas, and wounds and shifted our internal patterning, which is where it comes from. 

    Have you ever heard the expression “What we resist persists?” Have you ever told an angry person to “just calm down” or a screaming child to stop crying? Does it work? Not when our energy is in a heightened state.

    Why is someone angry? Why is a child screaming and crying? Because there’s something going on internally that’s creating how they’re behaving. There’s often an unmet need or pain that’s asking for attention.

    Thinking a more positive thought to compensate can sometimes work, but sometimes it just creates an inner debate and mistrust in ourselves because deep inside we don’t believe what we’re saying.

    As children, many of us were taught to suppress those “bad” feelings because if we expressed them, we may have been or were punished. Welcome to the beginning of the critical voice; it’s often a frightened part of us that’s wounded and asking for attention. It wants to be seen, heard, and understood.

    My dad used to get really frustrated with me and constantly told me, “Damn it, Deb, you never do anything right.” Hearing that many times left an imprint in my subconscious. I started living with that interpretation of myself, and the critical voice kept me “in check” with being this way.

    For me, the critical voice was my dad’s voice as well as the deep shame I was feeling for making mistakes and not doing things the “right way.”

    I was holding in suppressed anger, sadness, guilt, unforgiveness, resentment, traumas, and pain that I tried to keep hidden with a smile on my face, but eventually it turned into a shame-based identity.

    My inner voice criticized me whenever I fell short or wasn’t perfect according to society or my family’s expectations.

    Just like when we’re triggered by another person, our critical voice is asking for our attention and guiding us to what needs healing, resolving, forgiving, understanding, compassion, and unconditional love.

    When it comes to the surface, we’re experiencing an automatic regression; it’s a part of us that’s frozen in time. It’s a reflection of our unhealed wounds, which created ideas of not being enough or that something’s wrong with us. Basically, it’s a trance of unworthiness.

    When we’re in a trance of unworthiness, we try to soothe ourselves with addictive behaviors. It’s hard to relax because we think we need to do something to be better and prove ourselves, so not doing anything, resting, isn’t safe.

    When we’re in a trance of unworthiness, it’s hard to be intimate with others. Deep inside we think there’s something wrong with us, so we don’t get close because they may find out and leave. This keeps us from being authentic because we don’t feel okay with who we are.

    Deep down I felt unworthy, unlovable, and undeserving, and the critical voice showed me what I was feeling and believing. I didn’t feel safe in life or in my body. How could I? I was living with so much hurt, pain, and shame inside.

    The critical voice is often stronger for those of us with unhealed wounds and who are hard on ourselves, and it tries to get us with shame and guilt. We’re always looking at ourselves as the “good self” or “bad self,” and if we’re identified with a “bad self,” we’ll act in accordance with that in all areas of our life.

    If we’ve become identified with the critical voice, it’s who we think we are; it just seems normal. And when we start to be more kind and loving, it doesn’t seem right because our identity becomes threatened and our system registers that as danger.

    That happened for me. Eventually I became identified with being a “bad girl” who’s critical and hard on herself, and, even when I started being a little kinder, more compassionate, and more loving, I felt an angst in my body. It wasn’t familiar, and even deeper, it wasn’t okay for me to be this way. My survival was at stake, so I would automatically go back to self-criticizing and judging, without conscious awareness.

    The critical voice didn’t only speak to me harshly; it also told me to do self-abusive things like cutting my wrists and face, starving my body or eating lots of sweets, and exercising for hours like a mad woman to get rid of the food I ate, whether it was a carrot or sweets, because I felt guilty. 

    Even after twenty-three years of going in and out of hospitals and treatment centers, taking medication, and doing traditional therapy, nothing ever changed; the critical voice had a hold on me.

    It was a powerful force, and when I tried to stop it, it would get louder. It thought it was protecting me in a backwards sort of way; if it hurt me first, no one else would be able to do so.

    When people used to say to me, “Debra, you just need to love yourself,” I looked at them like they were crazy. I had no concept of what that even meant because I had no experience of it.

    What I’ve come to see with myself and those I assist in their healing is that the more we keep our deep hurts, traumas, anger, guilt, shame, and pain hidden, the more the critical voice chimes in.

    And, for some, like me, it seems overpowering, so we try to find relief through smoking, drinking, eating, or being busy, and/or we experience severe depression, anxiety, or self-harming.

    When we’re consumed by the critical voice, we’re disconnected from our true essence, and when we’re disconnected from our true essence, the love within, we feel a sense of separation; we don’t feel safe with ourselves or others, and we don’t feel lovable for who we are, as we are.

    This is why many people can change, be happy for a day, but then go back to their critical and/or judgmental ways. Our automatic programming, stemming from our core beliefs, kicks in. It’s just like an addiction, and in a sense it is.

    We can try meditating, deep breathing, and positive thinking, but, unless we address the underlying cause, we’re likely to keep thinking the thoughts our internal patterning dictates. They come from a part of us that doesn’t feel loved or safe.

    So, what do we do when the critical voice comes to visit?

    What do we do when it’s what we’re used to, and it just happens automatically?

    What do we do when we don’t know how to be with ourselves and how we’re feeling in a kind and compassionate way?

    What do we do when we have no concept of what it even means to experience self-love or ease in our bodies?

    First off, please don’t blame yourself for how you’re being. Awareness isn’t about judgment; it’s about kindness, compassion, and love.

    Working with and healing our traumas, where the critical voice was formed, is key in shifting our internal energy patterning. Many people call this inner child healing and/or shadow working. 

    This is a soft and gentle process of moving through the layers of trauma with compassion and love and making peace with our protector parts.

    Through inner child healing, we can shift and transform that “negative” patterning and how the energy is flowing in our body. We can help that part of us that’s frightened, hurting, and maybe feeling separate have a new and true understanding so we can feel loved and safe in our bodies.

    When we pause and take a deep breath when we first hear or sense the critical voice, it allows our nervous systems to reset and helps us come back to the present moment; this allows space for compassion, healing, and investigation.

    Why do I believe that?

    Where did I learn that?

    Is it true?

    How does my higher self see this and me?

    Does the critical voice totally go away? No, it may still chime in; it’s part of being human. But once we realize where it’s coming from and heal/shift that energy pattern, more love can flow through, and we can experience our truth. When we learn how to be our own loving parent and meet the needs our caregivers didn’t meet when we were children, the critical voice often softens.

    Remember, the critical voice is just a scared part of us who really wants attention, love, and a way to feel safe. When we no longer take it personally, when we’re no longer attached to it as our identity, we can offer ourselves compassion, understanding, love, truth, and whatever else we’re needing.

    Life can be messy, and our thoughts can be too. This isn’t about perfection; this is about experiencing a deeper connection with our loving essence.

    There’s a sweet and tender spirit that lives within you. This spirit is your deepest truth. This spirit is the essence of you. You’re naturally lovable, valuable, and worthy. You’re a gift to humanity. So please be kind, gentle, loving, and caring with yourself.

  • 4 Ways to Deal With Criticism So It Doesn’t Get You Down

    4 Ways to Deal With Criticism So It Doesn’t Get You Down

    Sad Man

    “The final proof of greatness lies in being able to endure criticism without resentment.” ~Elbert Hubbard

    Are you afraid of receiving criticism?

    Even if it’s minor or well-meaning, criticism can feel like a punch in the gut.

    And if you let it, criticism can leave you feeling down and resentful for days or weeks after.

    As the music director at my church, I occasionally receive negative feedback from members of the community.

    After services one Sunday, a congregant came up to offer some critique of my music selections. At first it felt like a full-on attack. I didn’t even have a chance to get up from the organ bench before she began.

    I wish I could say that I responded perfectly, but I didn’t. I immediately became defensive. My breath shortened. I interrupted her before she could complete her thoughts. But at some point in the midst of the barrage, I regained my composure and listened.

    It was hard and painful to just listen without being defensive. On reflection, I realized that my pain had little to do with her criticism. It came from my own fear of being judged. Once I became aware of this, it was much easier for me to recover emotionally and move on.

    If you struggle with the fear of being criticized, here are some things to keep in mind:

    1. Criticism will not kill you.

    The mere possibility of being criticized can fill you with dread.

    When I was being criticized, my fight or flight response was automatically triggered. Though I was in no real physical danger, my mind started to immediately generate thoughts such as: “What if she starts a campaign to get me fired?” and “How will I find work to support my family?”

    In hindsight, it’s easy to see that the leap from criticism to catastrophe was a gross distortion of reality. But in the moment, the thoughts can feel very real.

    Over time I’ve learned to regain control of my thoughts by asking questions, such as: “Are my disastrous scenarios likely to happen?” or “Will this kill me?” I’ve found the answer is often no.

    Criticism can hurt, but it cannot maim or kill. If you struggle with the fear of criticism, know that you too have the resources to get through it and move on.

    2. Giving criticism can be as hard as receiving it.

    It’s hard for people to say what’s truly on their minds. Most would prefer speak ill of you behind your back or let resentment build rather than risk conflict.

    As I struggled to hear the woman’s criticism, I noticed that she was visibly shaking. It dawned on me that this person, rather than simply grumbling to other parishioners or the pastor, had summoned the courage to speak directly to me.

    In that moment, I was able to empathize with her. This profoundly changed my experience of being criticized. My attitude shifted from that of fear to compassion, even gratitude. I no longer perceived her as a threat and my own fears were calmed.

    If you’re facing criticism, try to see the situation from the other person’s point of view.

    3. Not all criticism is created equal.

    Think of the last time you were criticized. Did you find yourself overanalyzing everything the person said?

    In the struggle to articulate their feelings, people often say useless or hurtful things. Somewhere in there is the main concern they are trying to communicate. It’s tempting to let negative comments, often arising out of frustration, get the best of us.

    In my own situation, I chose to address the genuine concern and discard the rest.

    You too can challenge your own tendency to focus on the negative by asking yourself: “What’s is the focus of their complaint?” If the purpose of the criticism is simply to antagonize, give yourself permission to discard it all.

    4. Criticism can fuel your personal growth.

    When we’re in defensive mode, it’s practically impossible to be self-reflective. But once the defenses drop, allow this question to come to the surface:

    Is there any truth to the criticism?

    Entertaining this question will be the starting point of your personal growth.

    Once I’d processed the valid concerns of the criticism, I began taking practical steps to incorporate the feedback into my work and attitude. I also began to process my own fears and general defensiveness. Finally, I worked to drop my resentment toward the person who criticized me.

    How can you effectively incorporate useful criticism into your life? Focus on using the criticism to improve yourself rather than please or appease the person. This will help you let go any lingering resentment toward them.

    Kick Your Fear of Criticism to the Curb

    As long as you are breathing, leading, or doing something that matters, you will be criticized.

    Don’t let your deep, dark fears of being criticized hold you back.

    Instead of trying to avoid it at all costs, expect it—even welcome it.

    You’ll learn to conquer your fears and increase your confidence.

    So next time you’re staring criticism in the face, take a deep breath, smile, and say to yourself, “Let’s do this.”

    Sad man image via Shutterstock

  • 6 Ways to Deal with Critical, Judgmental People

    6 Ways to Deal with Critical, Judgmental People

    Finger Art Couple Fighting

    “When we judge or criticize another person, it says nothing about that person; it merely says something about our own need to be critical.” ~Unknown

    We all have people in our lives who unintentionally hurt us. Their words may sound harsh. We may feel judged. And they may question our choices so much that we feel emotionally unsafe around them.

    People can make comments about our career choice, living situation, life partner (or lack of), child-rearing decisions, and hobbies—and often when we didn’t ask for their opinion or advice.

    Oftentimes, the healthiest choice is to stay away from these people. But sometimes we have to pay a hefty price for this choice, and it’s worth exploring other options.

    For example, if some of these people happen to be relatives, or someone is your childhood best friend’s spouse or your daughter’s best friend’s mom, staying away may bring other challenges.

    And even when we can avoid them completely, it can be valuable to have such people in our lives, as they empower us to learn and grow.

    Note: I said we could invite them to be a part of our lives, not consume our lives! There is a big difference between the two.

    A few years back, a friend’s words began to hurt me and brought tears to my eyes, lots of tears.

    I knew her intentions were good, yet her comments on my choice of work, living situation, and vacations, and her constant unsolicited advice, left me feeling sad and angry.

    I opened up my heart and ultimately felt judged and vulnerable.

    I could have just let the friendship die, but that wasn’t an authentic manifestation of my values.

    A part of me wanted to tell her exactly how I felt, but I didn’t have the courage to face the consequences if she didn’t understand where I was coming from, and that I really wanted to save the relationship.

    I was sharing this with my mom, and in my pain I asked her why someone who cared about me would say the things my friend had said.

    She said something that stuck. “What if you look at your relationship with her as an opportunity to grow? What if you focused on what you could do and change instead of complaining about her? What if she were a friend not to hold, nurture, and support you, but to help you get a tiny bit closer to your own truth along with some pain and discomfort?”

    This was simple, yet deep and profound.

    Over the last few years I have become a little more skilled and have more peace and joy around this relationship.

    Here’s my list of the wonderful gems that have emerged, and my enhanced toolkit on dealing with difficult relationships.

    1. Acknowledge the pain.

    I have learned to acknowledge the discomfort with harsh words. This doesn’t mean wallowing in the pain or crying endlessly, but simply practicing awareness and noticing my own sensations and feelings as they arise, without getting overly attached to them or pushing them aside.

    I have learned that resistance creates more suffering, and accepting our own discomfort is the first step to lasting peace.

    2. Embrace your own fears and insecurities.

    Difficult interactions give us an opportunity to embrace our own fears and insecurities. When we feel hurt about something, it’s often because it triggers some unresolved emotion within ourselves.

    Recognizing this, we can practice compassionate self-inquiry, without anger or judgment toward ourselves.

    I have noticed that comments around my choice of work are most difficult to hear, and as I have peeled the layers I have learned that is where my inner critic is the loudest.

    What a lovely opportunity for me to come a tiny bit closer to my own truths, practice self- kindness, and work on myself instead of trying to change others.

    3. Cultivate curiosity.

    I have learned to have an open and curious mind toward critical behavior. I don’t need to judge or label, but I can still bring a deep sense of curiosity around why people may be behaving or saying such things.

    With this sense of curiosity, we’re better able to practice compassion for other people’s pain and suffering.

    Oftentimes when people say hurtful things, it’s because they are hurting and have unmet needs, and not because of who we are or what we have done.

    4. Demonstrate vulnerability with intelligence.

    I often felt upset because I opened my heart and revealed my imperfections and didn’t feel held or heard. I slowly learned that if someone might not accept my truth, it would be wise for me to exercise judgment around how much I share.

    As Brené Brown says, “Our stories are not meant for everyone. Hearing them is a privilege, and we should always ask ourselves this before we share, ‘Who has earned the right to hear my story?’”

    This didn’t mean that I was better or wiser than other people, but that at this point in our lives, my story doesn’t serve a purpose in our conversations.

    5. Create boundaries.

    Despite all the benefits that such interactions may bring, boundaries are essential.

    A boundary meant saying no to that Saturday dinner invitation (with kindness and gratitude), or agreeing to meet for coffee on a weeknight instead of planning a long, leisurely Sunday brunch. It also meant exercising judgment around the topics that I’d discuss and the opinions that I’d offer.

    If a relationship is causing you pain but you feel it’s worth keeping, ask yourself: What boundaries can I set to better take care of myself and my needs?

    6. Refuel and recharge.

    Practicing this piece can sometimes feel indulgent, or I can confuse this with “being weak,” but at its core, it is an act of strength.

    I have learned to take time and create space (even if it’s just five minutes) to do something to recharge and refuel after such interactions—take a walk or practice meditation, for example—in order to ground myself and bring myself back to my sense of calm and worthiness.

    —

    When people are critical and judgmental, it’s often more about them than us. Still, this gives us an opportunity to learn about ourselves, take good care of ourselves, and practice responding wisely.

    Which of these most resonated with you? What’s in your toolkit that could be added to this list?

    Finger art of couple fighting image via Shutterstock

  • How to Handle Life: Get Out of Your Critical Head

    How to Handle Life: Get Out of Your Critical Head

    Stressed

    “Just trust yourself, then you will know how to live.” ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

    There was a time when I lived almost completely inside myself. I couldn’t handle much of the outside world.

    Yes, I am an introvert, but back then, I had such low self-esteem that the only place I felt safe was inside my own head. I had a low tolerance for problems and mistakes. I was life intolerant.

    Yet, my inner world wasn’t exactly a peaceful sanctuary; it was a cold, discomforting, and harsh place to be. Mainly because I was fat. Or so I thought. I was obsessed with how I looked. My study time was directed at my legs. I appraised my ankles, I graded my thigh gap. And for those failings, I beat myself up.

    What terrible thing could have befallen me for me to have retracted into my shell like that? The answer: nothing major. In fact, my childhood was good and my parents were great.

    But there was something, or a series of somethings in my childhood that led me to live inside my critical head.

    One was that I wasn’t allowed to do much. If anything, I was kind of spoiled. That didn’t really help me because I unconsciously stamped this message on my psyche: “Unable to perform tasks.”

    Second of all, I wasn’t allowed to rectify my mistakes. Just small things—a plate I broke was cleared up before I had a chance to, a garden rake was taken out of my hands because I didn’t know how to weed properly. The underlying takeaway for me was: “Just can’t handle stuff.”

    With those mottos, I plodded through life, slightly shy and fearful.

    But I’m not like that today. In fact, I’m the opposite. My self-talk now is mostly positive, and I encourage myself. I’m kind to myself, and I look out for me.

    How did this come about?

    A not-so-great relationship. I met someone, and unsurprisingly, depended on them for my self-esteem.

    If they thought I was good enough, then I was good enough. But how tumultuous it is to live on the rough seas of someone else’s appraisal! Somehow, amidst those choppy waters, I saw a lighthouse; and it was therapy. I took myself there, and I found a safe harbor.

    I also went to meditation classes.

    Those two things slowly worked away at me, chipping away at those walls I’d put up around myself. I became mindful through meditation, and through therapy I came to realize I needed to become my own best friend.

    So I did. I changed my self-talk. It was a challenge, but I pushed through.

    From there on out, my allergy to living life went away. The relationship ended, but I was equipped with new tools for living. I go out and socialize, I embrace challenges, I live my life with my eyes open—and I can handle it.

    These are the tools I learned along my way.

    Accept.

    Accept what is happening, be it a critical remark or a mistake. When you accept whatever is in front of you, you are allowing yourself to feel discomfort and trusting that you can handle it.

    It can feel quite vulnerable to be so open with no defenses and say, “Yes, this is really happening.” But once you start accepting, it gets easier, because you learn that you can cope with it.

    It’s not pushing away, or denying, which can feel stressful. It’s a calm response to life. Start with accepting small, inconsequential things like spilling food or sending an email with a typo. This will put you in good place to start accepting the bigger toughies down the road.

    Talk kindly to yourself.

    When the going gets tough, you need some back up, and the best are self-soothing sentences.

    “Everything is okay.” “I am capable.” “I trust that I can handle this.”

    They don’t just pop up; you need to work on them daily so that they are there for you when you need them.

    This is where mindfulness and meditation come in, because these practices are like sending your concentration muscle to the gym.

    Once you become mindful in your day, you become aware of how you are talking to yourself. Making it a daily commitment to change negativity into an upbeat outlook is training yourself for the day when something big goes down. When it does, those self-beliefs will come to your aid.

    Allow yourself to be imperfect.

    Sometimes you will need to engage with critical people who make judgments on who you are or a public faux pas, and they will demand that you respond.

    You have choices in how you do so. It takes time to accurately measure which response is best, so try a few.

    You don’t have to be defensive all the time. In fact, you can send your ego on holiday and even agree with some criticism. It can be a huge boost to your self-esteem when you finally allow yourself to not be absolutely perfect, and laugh at yourself instead.

    You can choose to own up to a mistake and try again. No big deal, just “Let me start again,” or “That wasn’t right, I’ll come back with it fixed.” No catastrophizing, but solutions instead.

    Once you start trusting yourself to find solutions, mega worries become tame, because you have learned that you are someone who can find a way forward.

    Finally, you can choose to explain openly what happened, or not. A bit of self-defense is not a bad thing, because you are worth looking out for, after all.

    —

    From today onward, believe in yourself and practice self-acceptance. May your life be a wonderful journey that you take part in, every step of the way.

    Stressed woman image via Shutterstock

  • 4 Tips to Start Loving and Stop Criticizing Yourself

    4 Tips to Start Loving and Stop Criticizing Yourself

    Happy Woman

    “You have been criticizing yourself for years, and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise L. Hay

    I used to give myself quite a hard time. I felt like I wasn’t measuring up or doing enough or achieving as much as my peers.

    I decided to make a note of the way I was speaking to myself and treating myself. What I found surprised me.

    I noticed that I’d berate myself for days if something didn’t go exactly to plan, convinced that there was something wrong with me and that was why I had messed up.

    I’d tell myself that I was stupid, useless, and a thoroughly incompetent, unworthy human being. Pretty mean stuff, really!

    I wouldn’t even speak to my worst enemy that way I was speaking to myself. It was time to make a change.

    Are you at war with yourself?

    It’s been said many times that a lack of self-love is at the root of all of our problems, and I agree.

    Our addictive behaviors are so often interlinked with self-esteem issues, not feeling good enough or valuing our own worth. At times, food or drugs may be a way of self-medicating or even self-harming.

    If we’re stressed or anxious, we’re putting too much pressure on ourselves, telling ourselves that things should be a certain way—that we need to be different or try harder. We’re not accepting ourselves and the situation as it is right now.

    When we take good care of ourselves, nurture ourselves, and accept ourselves completely, stresses seem more manageable, healthy choices are natural, and we feel better within ourselves.

    Many of us think we need to be harsh and critical of ourselves in order to progress and move forward. However, evidence suggests that harsh criticism is actually demotivating and stressful, not helpful.

    If you’re sick of being at war with yourself and are ready to love yourself more and become calmer, happier, and healthier, try these four steps.

    1. Speak to yourself as you’d speak to someone you love and want to encourage.

    Would you tell them that they’re no good? Would you give them a hard time? I don’t think so.

    Tune into how you’re speaking to yourself throughout the day. Once you become aware of a harsh tone, work on changing this to a tone that is patient, compassionate, and accepting.

    Giving yourself a hard time isn’t effective at helping you to do your best. I like to remind myself that I’m doing my best, that every experience is a learning experience, and that I’m already good enough.

    2. See yourself as your loved ones see you.

    When I first met my boyfriend I didn’t believe him when he told me he loved me. I wasn’t able to see past my own self-criticism to see what he could see.

    By imagining how he saw me, I was able to perceive myself in the way that he did—all the good points, the strengths, the sense of humor, the quirks, the vulnerability, and yes, the flaws, but on the whole, I could see a worthwhile and lovable person.

    Imagine a person that loves you and picture them sitting in front of you now. Notice the way they look at you in way that lets you know that they love and accept you completely.

    Now imagine you can step into their shoes and see yourself through their eyes, with love, care, and kindness. Notice all your amazing qualities and even all of your flaws, and send yourself a lot of acceptance for all of it. Now step back into your own shoes but bring with you this new perspective.

    3. Make a daily list of the things you appreciate about yourself.

    It could be that you’re a good friend, or maybe you always remain calm in a crisis. So often we’re programmed to notice our deficiencies and the things we lack. Challenge this instinct by noticing the things you appreciate instead.

    Recently, I’ve appreciated myself for being a good listener, for making great cakes for my friend’s birthdays, for my willingness to work on myself, and for the fact that I can now do twenty whole pushups!

     4. Remember that you are a human being and are therefore fallible.

    You and everyone else on the planet are a work in progress. You don’t need to be perfect; you are always learning, always changing, and getting better every day.

    Aim for progress rather than perfection. We are all doing our best with the tools and abilities that we have at our disposal. So give yourself a break and remember that you’re doing just fine.

    I’d love to hear about the ways that learning to love yourself has helped you, or could help you. What strategies do you have for loving yourself more?

    Happy woman image via Shutterstock

  • How to Be Who You Really Are, Beyond Your Ego and Fears

    How to Be Who You Really Are, Beyond Your Ego and Fears

    Shadow

    “Whenever something negative happens to you, there is a deep lesson concealed within it.”~ Eckhart Tolle

    For much of my life, I was ashamed of how my classmates perceived me in my youth.

    My chagrin and regret began in the spring of my senior year in high school when I opened our yearbook for the first time.

    The seniors got center stage in the yearbook, as usual, with a big picture of each of us along with a four-year list of our activities and awards. I was proud of my list of five sports, especially my letters in wrestling and football and my participation in the choir and the boy’s quartet.

    Next to each senior’s picture there was also a short, affectionate phrase describing the essence of the person.

    Judy Johnson: Dainty and neat from head to feet.

    Clayton Thomas: To be liked by all in this age and day is the highest compliment we can pay.

    Anna Mae Westphal: Who could ask for anything more?

    Ah, my best friend, Don Denkinger: Never a dull moment.

    I turn to Gary Stokes, and there I am in my gray flannel suit, shirt, and tie. I am not smiling in my picture, but gazing off stoically into what?—my future, perhaps. My descriptive phrase: Reserved pessimist.

    It was the only negative description in the senior pictures. Of course I checked to make sure. One negative description embedded with 124 positive descriptions.

    I Wonder Who I Am

    I was angry with the yearbook editor, a long-time classmate and neighbor. Maybe she had not written my description, but she approved of it. So did the faculty sponsor.

    I was embarrassed but never complained to them. Instead, I held a grudge against them and sustained it well into adulthood.

    I mulled over those two words for years.

    Reserved. Pessimist.

    Maybe this was the first of the many challenges to my ego that I would encounter over the next few decades, challenges that would help me learn, develop, and become my true self—a magical being.

    But at eighteen, I couldn’t figure it out.

    Was I reserved? I didn’t see it. I had friends. I liked most people. I had a beautiful, brilliant girlfriend who would very soon be my wife when we ran away and got married six months after high school graduation. My read on myself was that I was an ordinary, friendly guy.

    Was I a pessimist? This appellation was even harder to figure out. I didn’t worry about the future. I didn’t think things would turn out badly.

    I examined myself, but I couldn’t see any reserve or any pessimism.

    I finally concluded that someone on the yearbook staff didn’t like me and wanted to give me a jab. Ouch. It worked.

    So, did I discover as an adult that I am by nature reserved—difficult to know in some way—and that I am by nature pessimistic, throwing cold water on hopes about how people or things will turn out?

    The Yearbook Signaled the Need for Some Introspection

    I would eventually have to face some pretty negative things about myself.

    In several marriages I would discover that I had built up some armor around my lack of self-esteem.

    I was the most well defended person she had ever met, one of my wives told me.

    I wasn’t able to admit my fears, so I hid behind a mask of supreme confidence. Some, no doubt, experienced me as reserved, difficult to know.

    To boost my own ego, I was often critical of others. I became expert at dissecting the personalities and faults of those around me. In spite of the fact that I was a successful national leader in my field, I needed to assert my superiority continuously.

    Those closest to me may have heard my criticisms as expressing a fundamental pessimism about the lives of my fellow human beings. At times they objected to my criticisms. I countered that I was merely describing others accurately.

    In other words, I was a real human being and also a false human being—a complicated mix of ego and authenticity made up of love, passion, vision, competitiveness, cockiness, self-pity, and victimhood.

    If there had been a mid-life yearbook, the summary next to my picture might have been “He may be a warrior, but he still makes mistakes.”

    I Learn That I Am, and We All Are, Magical Beings

    Over time, I was able to see the magical being behind my fears and ego disguises and able to see the magical being that everyone else is as well. How are we magical beings?

    • Each of us is a perceptual dynamo, our bodies a master work of sensitivity, able to examine our lives, learn, change, and emerge into our full powers.
    • We are the most conscious beings in the universe, as far as we know, the only creatures able to explore the cosmos, peer back into its origins, and begin to explain how it works.
    • We are the only creatures who can laugh at ourselves, create comedies for each other, and find delight in almost anything.
    • We are able to love, each of us able to nurture other human beings, able to intuit and imagine the needs of others and to create the support and understanding they need for emergence.

    Ah, I am a magical being and so are you.

    How to Become a Magical Being

    My journey from reserved pessimist to magical being has been full of detours, bad maps, accidents, and late arrivals.

    But it has also been a journey of discovery, wonderful surprises, breakthroughs, and heavenly destinations.

    Looking back on my discovery that we are all magical beings, I see these key milestones in my learning. If you’re also feeling disconnected from who you really are, these steps may help.

    1. Identify and confront the fears behind your front.

    My long-term fear: I was afraid that I couldn’t be loved, that somehow I wasn’t likable enough and attractive enough. Didn’t my yearbook spot this problem early? Didn’t my recent divorce provide more evidence?

    I devoted every day to stalking my fears. Instead of avoiding them, as I had always done, I sought out opportunities to confront them, test myself, and learn. It was an exciting time, as I opened myself to intimate relationships in a new way. I gave love without worrying about it being returned and I saw that there was nothing to fear.

    One joyous day I realized that I was no longer afraid of anything. That day my love of life flowed without reserve.

    You can overcome your fears. They are phantoms and will evaporate with your scrutiny. Muster your courage, identify them, go looking for them every day, and confront them. You will discover that your fears were simply bad explanations for what is going on.

    2. Acknowledge self-pity and victimhood.

    I was still vulnerable to having my self-importance pricked by others. Hiding below my ego’s need to be respected, I saw my self-pity.

    My victim stories always followed a pattern—criticizing the person who had challenged me in some way.

    With the help of a loved one, I stalked my self-pity like a warrior hunter until I exposed my ego for what it was—a false self. And then I laughed, full of optimism about life without pretense.

    Notice how the ego gets angry, irritated, and resentful, always creating the bad explanation that someone or something outside yourself is creating your life. Dump the ego and fly free. You’re a magical being capable of creating the emotions you want to feel.

    3. Learn how to sustain poise, no matter what challenges face you.

    I discovered that my full powers are available only when I am present, connected, grateful, creative, and light hearted. Poise is the state of consciousness I choose every moment.

    Poised, I live a vibrant life of joy and practical advantage.

    In your magical state, you can transform every challenge into opportunity, adventure, and valuable learning. Welcome the challenges, embrace them, and say yes to them. Remember, magical beings are creative dynamos.

    The Reserved Pessimist Wasn’t Real

    Had my high school yearbook writers been more prescient about me than they were, they might have said: “He doesn’t know it yet, but he is a magical being.”

    We all are.

    Photo by rohit gowaikar

  • Dealing with Difficult People: 5 Effective, Compassionate Practices

    Dealing with Difficult People: 5 Effective, Compassionate Practices

    “Whatever you fight, you strengthen, and what you resist, persists.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    It’s morning; you’re in a great mood. You’re relaxed and have plenty of time to practice your morning routine. After a delicious breakfast, you head out to start your day. Then it happens: You encounter a difficult person, and your calm turns to calamity.

    We all have encounters with people who prefer to stay miserable, making everything difficult. They exist, and perhaps there was a time in your past when you once where one of those negative people. Perhaps you still can be at times.

    As a former miserable person, I know it was my inability to handle my mental and emotional states that kept me oozing all over others. I felt so disconnected from life, living obsessively in my mind, that I truly felt helpless.

    Most often that helplessness manifested into continuous critiquing, judging, anger, and sometimes even pure rage. I was unwilling to take full responsibility for my relationship to life. I wanted peace, joy, and harmony, but I was unwilling to do the necessary work to experience them.

    Difficult people are demanding. They demand something from the external world in hopes of filling the disconnection and restlessness they feel within. Whether they are demanding our attention, a certain action or reaction, or a particular outcome, the root of their behavior is a demand for something other than what is.

    Difficult people haven’t yet learned to take responsibility for their whole selves—mind, body, and spirit. Feeling disconnected and restless gives rise to their need to argue, judge, critique, and tweak everyone around them.

    Their inability to handle themselves adds fuel to the fire, which perpetuates their harshness.

    Underneath their personality is a feeling of being separate and a desperate plea for help.

    We can’t change another and we can’t make someone want to change. The only way we can help is by being true to our self, finding our power within, and being an example of wholeness.

    Here are a few practices I’ve found useful, loving, and extremely effective.

    1. Be still and ground yourself.

    Naturally, when we are confronted with a rude, irritable, or irate person, we tend to avoid them. We think that if we avoid them they will go away, or at least we hope they will. The truth is that, although this may happen, it is much more likely that they won’t until we learn an alternate way of dealing with them.

    Negative energy has a force and it can knock us on our butt, usually in the form of us engaging in toxic behavior. If we are not grounded, we may find ourselves arguing, judging, or stomping out of the room.

    Making sure we are firmly planted in our body enables us to look the person in the eye and be completely present. It gives us the opportunity to remain calm and pause rather than engage in behavior we may later regret.

    2. Look them directly in the eyes.

    Darkness, negativity, can’t stand light, so it can’t remain in the light. Looking someone directly in his or her eyes dispels darkness. Your light pierces through the superficial persona to their being.

    When I practice this tool one of two things always happens:

    • The person walks away or stops talking.
    • The conversation takes a more positive direction.

    We all want to be seen, from the cashier at Target to our spouse. Taking the time to look at someone offers them the greatest gift we have to offer: connection.

    Try it as an experiment and see what happens.

    3. Listen to understand.

    I find that whenever a difficult person confronts me, I automatically tense up and mentally consider my defense. When I am calm and open-minded, I know that I never have to defend myself, ever.

    The most effective way to diffuse a difficult person is to truly listen to what they are trying to say, which means keeping my mouth closed and hearing them all the way through.

    Whether or not I agree with them is irrelevant, and I certainly don’t need to let them know what I think. I can listen and get back to them if necessary such as with a spouse, co-worker or friend.

    I find the following responses to be most effective:

    “Let me get back to you on that.”

    “You could be right.”

    When a person is being difficult, it is because they are responding to their perceived reality rather than what is going on in the moment. Often times their frustration has very little to do with us.

    I find when someone’s reaction seems over the top for the situation that repeating the same response diffuses the situation.

    4. Learn when to be silent.

    Some people are extremely closed-minded and impossible to talk to, but we need to speak to them. When I find myself in a situation with someone who just can’t hear me in the moment, I don’t force the issue. Trying to get my point across to someone that can’t hear me only escalates the situation. Sometimes the clearest form of communication is silence.

    At a later time I can revisit the conversation with the person and communicate what needs to be said. Regardless of the person’s response, I can share my feelings and thoughts and let go of the outcome. Focusing on them responding a certain way only results in two difficult people unable to accept what is.

    5. Be honest with yourself.

    If we are repeatedly in a situation with someone who is abusive verbally, physically, and/or emotionally, we must stop trying to change him or her. If we find we are practicing a spiritual way of life and someone close to us isn’t changing, it may be time to get honest with our self and find out what is really going on.

    The question of whether or not to end a relationship with a difficult person, whether a friendship, work or romantic relationship, can only come from within you.

    If you can honestly say you have done what you know to do, have asked for help from a friend or professionally and nothing is changing, then its time to go within for the answer and trust what you find.

    On the other side of a difficult person is an opportunity to grow.

    No matter what we are presented with in life, we have an opportunity to choose more or less responsibility. Remembering that true responsibility is our ability to respond in the moment.

    Of course, this takes practice and is not easy. However, as we take more and more responsibility for our life, circumstances and people lose their power over us. We learn to choose our responses moment by moment, no longer being dragged around by emotions, thoughts, or circumstances created by another or our self.

  • Encourage, Don’t Criticize; Help Instead of Trying to Fix

    Encourage, Don’t Criticize; Help Instead of Trying to Fix

    “You must love in such a way that the person you love feels free.” ~Thich Nhat Hahn

    When you think you’re an evolved and conscious woman and your partner tells you in no unclear terms that you’re “hard to be with,” it does a number on you.

    Those words landed like a well-aimed boulder, smashing the immaculate vision I’d created of evolving myself: an exemplary girlfriend who was “doing the work” to grow, to become generously loving, spiritually awake, and to wholeheartedly support and encourage her beautiful partner to open to his fullest potential.

    We met under messy circumstances. Both just weeks out of intense breakups and deeply embroiled in “processing” our respective experiences, I had a laundry list of emotional baggage to shed, patterns to break, and new nonnegotiable standards for anything and anyone I’d allow into my intimate space.

    I pinned the badges of Emotional Consciousness and the Evolved Feminine on my heart. I journaled, meditated, and prayed to the Goddesses: Quan Yin. Kali. Durga. Sati.

    And as I learned, dove deeper, sailed higher, I held fiercely to his hand. I wanted to do this together. I begged him: join me. Rise. Dig. Excavate your stagnant places.

    It’s the only way forward.

    I believed it. And I think, to a certain end, so did he.

    Then encouragement, collaborative growth, and tough love turned to jagged criticism. Instead of holding one another in our struggles, we sat on opposing sides of some false fence. I saw only his flaws and I believed I needed him to fix them.

    I saw his potential. He was brilliant, deeply spiritual, an intuitive outdoorsman and incredible teacher. He had promise, gifts to bring to the world. I wanted him to reach for it—without fear.

    And when he didn’t, when he paused to rest, when he stumbled, I saw failure. I saw an unwillingness to try. I saw a man gripped by fear, clinging to safety.

    I used those words.

    Why couldn’t he just work as hard as me?

    It’s easy to say this now. To see where my ardent desires for his evolution—to shed the excess weight and step into his highest self—so quickly became toxic. How it clouded my vision of who he was, in the moment, without the changes I thought necessary.

    Wrapped up in my own work and redefining of what it meant for me to rise, I transposed my journey onto his.

    All I saw was his shining potential, his shadowed present, and the moments he wasn’t up to the challenge. When the stones the universe hurled at his foundation bested him.

    And I ignored the brilliant light already standing in front of me, showing up in his wholeness, wounds and all. So he learned to try and hide it, for fear that I would criticize the tenderest parts I saw to be flawed.

    Nobody is perfect.

    The funny part is that I’m a coach and a yoga teacher. I write about every angle of perfectionism, I preach about loving your tender and dark parts, I read endlessly about the divinity of this eternal growing process.

    Stretching is uncomfortable. Peeling off the layers hurts. It’s a messy, messy adventure, this evolution. Blah blah blah. My brain knew all that. But that’s different from living it—and dammit if I wasn’t a full-on hypocrite.

    So… nobody is perfect. Right?

    His imperfections became my teachers. And as I crumbled, defeated in my epic pursuit of New Age Girlfriend Perfection, he taught me what it is to hold someone you love to their highest potential, with grace, love, and honor.

    Your journey is not their journey. It seems straightforward, but it requires a humble and gracious heart to resist imposing your own standards of evolution on another.

    Just because you’re in love with transcendental meditation and it has blown your ego to pieces doesn’t mean your partner will find it moving in the least. And while you’re deeply questioning the meaning of “self,” the qualities of nonattachment, or the truth of your suffering, your partner might be doing battle with self-acceptance. Or body image. Or what it means to be masculine.

    And that’s all perfect.

    See the potential. Celebrate the present. That’s where I went wrong; I missed the second step. And he gently, kindly told me that he wasn’t feeling seen. Really seen—in his work, in his accomplishments, in the steps he’d already taken.

    Spend more time celebrating the positive elements of how far your partner has already come—and then encourage them to keep going, because you see such beautiful potential and brightness within.

    Let go of perfect. You know from your own excavations that the work never ends. There is always growth, always evolving, always new spiritual/emotional/soulful expanses to be explored.

    When we think “highest self,” it sometimes feels like an end point—a “point a to point b” kind of goal. It’s not, and living from that mentality makes the experience of evolution feel hurried and time-sensitive.

    As Osho says so simply, “Slowly, slowly.” Let that be your mantra, and honor each slow step your partner takes. Even more so, honor the pauses. The deep breaths. They’re part of the work, too.

    It is not yours to push. You’re not his life coach. You’re not her personal trainer. You’re not Mom. Position yourself on the same team—encouraging, supporting, celebrating, yes. Demanding? No. That creates a power dynamic that eventually becomes toxic and corrodes the integrity of your relationship.

    When you find yourself becoming the teacher, check your motivations and rephrase. How can you encourage with tenderness and love?

    Your love will become freedom. You have this one role in your partner’s evolution: to hold the space, to fill it with love and safety and, simultaneously, the encouragement to expand—and your love will become their freedom.

    Freedom to be exactly where they are on the path and to take the journey that is right at that moment and in that time. Freedom to fall. To screw up. And to try again, with unflinching faith in their own potential.

    And that freedom, ultimately, is the only path to the highest self.

  • A Simple Process to Deal with a Hypercritical Mind

    A Simple Process to Deal with a Hypercritical Mind

    Head Hurts

    “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

    “I can’t believe I screwed this up again!”

    “Why did I do that?”

    “This is all my fault!”

    The third grader ruminated as he walked away from the soccer field where his team had tied, two to two. It was their sixth tie in seven games.

    The lone game that was not a tie was a loss. According to this young man, his team’s record was a direct reflection of his worth; therefore, verbal self-deprecation was the only response one should have after such failure.

    His mother waited for him in the parking lot, hoping her ultra-competitive son would cool off from this perceived-to-be-colossal failure before heading home, but she knew how he was and was bracing herself for the usual tirade of self-deprecation.

    The third grader opened the passenger door, felt the synthetic coolness of the air conditioner, and plopped down into his seat.

    “Hi honey. How are you doing?” she asked, trying to gauge her son’s emotions.

    “Bad. We tied again,” he stated.

    “You played well, though,” she remained kind and supportive.

    “No I didn’t. We tied,” he reiterated.

    “You can’t be so hard on yourself. You have another game next week,” she said with concern.

    “Mom! Please just stop! We tied…again! I’m sick of it! I’d rather just lose, but we find a way to tie everyone! We tie the best team in the league, the average team, and then today we tie this crappy team! I’m sick of it!” he shouted, nearing tears, and then explained:

    “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m mad at myself, not at you. I just don’t want to talk about it. I’m a jerk.”

    That third grader was me—still is to a certain extent.

    This third person account was my first memory of being “hyper self-critical,” as my internship supervisor accurately wrote in her evaluation of me a year ago.

    At first I wrote this story in the first person, and I felt the same emotions as I did back in third grade.

    When I wrote it in the third person, I was able to gain distance from the experience, and objectively see how ridiculous I behaved, and how sad it is to see a third grader put that much pressure on himself for something that’s supposed to be fun.

    I am still “hyper self-critical.” Although I may not be throwing a tantrum, yelling at my mom, dad, and teammates, I still have this screaming critic telling me the things I have, am, and will screw up.

    When I was younger, I took great pride in my inner critic.

    I liked that I was hard on myself, that I expected perfection, and when I wasn’t perfect I cursed myself, punched a wall, yelled at a concerned friend or family member, and then isolated myself, promising that I would never screw up again.

    Then, I’d screw up again. The cycle continued.

    I continued this cycle all the way through college. I would start off the semester doing great, and then one missed assignment or one poor quiz score, and I’d berate myself for being stupid and lazy.

    Luckily for everyone around me, I learned to keep my disappointment to myself, so no more self-deprecating rants.

    It wasn’t until I took a class in conflict resolution that I began to question my perfectionist tendencies. In this class we learned a lot about communicating empathetically with co-workers, friends, family members, and significant others.

    However, the internal conflicts, more specifically, the section on self-forgiveness, stuck with me.

    This topic was not a monumental moment that forever changed my life; I don’t really believe in such moments. Rather, it was the first time I pondered the usefulness of being so critical of myself.

    Is it really useful to dwell on mistakes and feel terrible about them constantly?

    No. It was not helpful, but it did not change the content of my thoughts because of this realization, nor did it make me feel any better. Instead I felt frustrated with myself.

    I always looked at mistakes as learning opportunities; however, I never thought of them as acceptable in my mind. I understood that I inevitably would make mistakes, but this understanding conveniently disappeared when I would fall short of my expectations.

    A few months after this class, I started seeing a therapist.

    I justified going to therapy as an educational experience to further my understanding of my major, psychology; however, the truth was I wanted to understand my past and how it has shaped me.

    From therapy, I learned to view past versions of myself from a third person perspective, which allowed me to empathize with the younger me.

    I saw how hard this young boy worked, how much he achieved, and how frequently he felt inadequate and berated himself for everything that could have gone better, either within his control or outside of his control.

    It did not matter to this boy. Coming up short was the result of his effort, no one else. No excuses.

    Eventually, I was able to see some of my failures were not simply a lack of drive and/or intelligence; they were the result of my environment, so naturally I began to blame people, places, and things.

    Mainly I blamed my dad, and my family’s history of bipolar disorder and depression, for my hypercritical mind.

    Seeing things this way allowed me to forgive myself a bit more, but then I was angry with my dad for instilling his hypercritical mind in me.

    A new cycle had started and I felt worse than ever before. As soon as I was by myself, which was often, I would break down thinking about my history, feeling sorry for myself and finally crying.

    Gradually, the blaming dissipated and gave way to acceptance, and I began to actually like the person I am, appreciate my upbringing, and accept but not buy into the hypercritical part of my mind.

    Instead of getting wrapped up in my thoughts and emotions, I learned to see that I am a person having particular thoughts and particular emotions. I am not the thoughts and emotions. I am the action I take.

    I’m all right with the thoughts and emotions that I experience. I’m actually grateful for my mind’s criticism.

    Without the ridiculous criticism my mind concocts, I wouldn’t have my dry sense of humor, my drive to improve, nor would I experience the triumph of realizing that I can have doubts, worries, and negative thoughts, yet still act in accordance with my values.

    I definitely by no means would say, “I’ve figured it out” or anything near that, but maybe I’m just being too critical?

    It’d be unrealistic to expect my mind to think I have perfected anything, but through my experience, I have found the following process useful when dealing with my hypercritical mind:

    • Take a nice, slow breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.
    • Ask yourself, “Is this thought useful?”
    • If it is not, thank your mind for the input and…
    • Act in accordance with your values, not your hypercritical mind.

    You don’t have to feel a certain way or have particular thoughts to act in accordance with your values.

    Photo by threephin

  • Silencing Your Inner Critic: You Don’t Need to Torture Yourself to Grow

    Silencing Your Inner Critic: You Don’t Need to Torture Yourself to Grow

    Woman in a field

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

    I was tortured by self-hatred for most of my life.

    There were aspects of myself that I had a hard time loving. I didn’t like that I am competitive, that I was not a blonde with blue eyes, that I am not good at math or managing money.

    I did everything I could to hide these things. I was over-caring, over-helping, and over-accommodating others.

    I think I did a pretty good job of not being myself. This created additional psychic pain in me. I felt like Picasso who was not allowed to paint or Mozart who was banned from approaching another musical instrument again.

    The funny thing is, I was the one doing it to myself. I was no longer a child under the mercy of my critical, perfectionist parents (who were in pain and unconscious themselves). I had become my parents! I had become my worst critic.

    I wondered, “Why am I so mean to myself? What could I have done in a past life or in this lifetime that could warrant such self-torture?”

    Interestingly enough, even when I tried to conjure up the filthiest, sickest scenario, I had a hard time hating that imaginary person doing the crime.

    I had worked with criminals in a prison. I knew their stories and what they went through. It doesn’t condone their behavior, but I could see the chain of pain and lack of love that was passed on to them, and then from them. I just couldn’t hate them.

    If I couldn’t hate these criminals, why did I hate myself so much? It seemed so illogical.

    Then I remembered reading about the inner critic. I looked into it further and started getting to know this beast. In addition to my inner critic, there were many parts of myself that had helped me survive.

    I had an inner protector, a hermit, a social butterfly, a flirt, and many other parts that served a purpose.

    For example, “The Flirt” was helping me make friends and gain clients and extract the juice out of my relationships by being playful. “The Hermit” knew when I needed to recharge my mental, emotional, and physical bodies. “The Social Butterfly” helped me find and attract communities that met my different needs.

    They all had a job to do, but they needed to be in balance.

    Some of these selves were created out of necessity when I was young and didn’t have enough safety and kindness in my life. But I was no longer that little girl. Some of these selves were such loyal servants that they never left me all my life. I recognized this with gratitude that came out of nowhere.

    Suddenly, instead of hating my inner critic, I felt a sense of compassion for how hard she had been working to keep me safe from rejection, ridicule, abandonment, and many other rational and irrational fears. I decided that I didn’t want her to work so hard anymore. She had done a great job.

    Maybe I was selfish, lazy, negative, arrogant, and bitter. So what? Aren’t all these parts of me and personality traits so human? How many people do I know and love who have some unpleasant or unbalanced qualities or habits? Many. Their qualities do not make me not love them. Those are their quirks.

    So then came the self-inventory.

    Do I make a genuine effort to call myself out on my stuff when I am conscious enough to see it? Yes.

    Do I make an effort to make amends with people I have hurt? Yes.

    Am I someone who genuinely wants to be a balanced individual who serves others? Yes.

    Then what is the problem?

    Does this mean that I was going to let it all go and be a mean, bitter, selfish, codependent woman?

    No.

    How about if I cut myself some slack? How about I practice being gentle with myself and give this poor inner critic a break?

    “I no longer need to torture myself to grow.”

    Oh, that felt good to say it to myself. I took another deep breath to let this new reality/belief set in. I felt freer, and more loving toward all of life.

    I knew that I had to work at sustaining and integrating this new belief. I had, in the past, had big revelations but had taken the wisdom for granted. Then I would slip back to my old behavioral and thought patterns.

    Back then I didn’t understand that our brain needs to integrate new concepts in the same way we learn a new language.

    So I immediately made a plan. It didn’t have to be a perfect plan, but had to be something I could stick to, since I knew that our brain learns by repetition.

    I wrote down affirmations that felt right to my heart. I started a running “What I love about myself” list. I started writing down things I was even shy about. “I love my hair. I love my toes. I love my sense of humor. I love my fragile, sensitive heart.”

    I was finally on paper. And it didn’t look so bad. I started reading it out loud to myself every day, and adding to it.

    My neediness toward people started decreasing. When I made plans to hang out with them, I noticed that my secret need was no longer to be comforted, approved, or supported by them. I was just open to every encounter for what the exchange would bring for everyone involved.

    The shift wasn’t overnight, but I kept at it. The more love I felt for myself and the less I gave my full attention to my inner critic, the happier I became.

    My energy shifted. People were attracted to me as clients and friends. After three months of isolation, I was being invited to parties, camping trips, and concerts. I picked where I wanted to be and who I wanted to be around. I listened to my inner child and followed her nudges.

    These are the steps I followed in learning to love myself:

    1. Get to know your inner critic, its voice, and its intentions.

    Activate your observer self and listen to what it is saying as if you are hearing it on the radio. Recognize that this is an old tape repeating the criticism of society and the people who raised you to ensure your emotional and physical safety. It is running on autopilot.

    2. Take some time to yourself; go deep inside.

    Explore what you could have done to deserve this much self-hate/criticism. Look for an example of a person or situation where you can’t hate someone who’s made a mistake, even if you wanted to.

    Let your brain help you find proof that you don’t deserve your self-criticism. When you find it, you will create a crack in that thought pattern. But that alone is not enough to break it open and get it to release.

    3. Make a realistic plan.

    List three things you can do to raise your self-esteem. These can be as simple as: “I will say ‘I love you’ to myself ten times a day,” or “I will look at myself in the mirror and identify things I like about myself every morning before leaving the house.”

    The trick is that they need to feel doable to you. This is your plan. You are in charge of what you want to do. Make it a joyful and fun one.

    4. Stick with the program.

    I find that I get the best results when I keep track of it. Seeing a day or two of missing my exercises or meditation bothers me and motivates me to get back into it.

    5. Start hanging out with people who make you feel good.

    These are the people who see and experience you as who you really are. Let people who love you reflect the real you back to you. Start hanging out with people who could use cheering up. Reflect back to them how you see them. Practice the balance of receiving and giving.

    6. Know that you have the power to take the reins from this inner critic.

    It has been doing a great job, but it doesn’t need to drive the car anymore. Once you decide this, the rest is pretty much practice and patience.

    My inner critic was so harsh that it was hard for friends to watch me hurt myself that way, but I’ve learned to love myself. You can do it too.

    Photo by MrVertrau

  • Constructive Criticism Is a Sign of Your Potential

    Constructive Criticism Is a Sign of Your Potential

    “Criticism is something you can easily avoid by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.” ~Aristotle

    Like a lot of kids, I grew up watching sports. Every Sunday afternoon, our family would gather around the big screen TV to watch the Pittsburgh Steelers play.

    As a result, I began to idolize some of my favorite players and wanted to play the sport that brought them such fame, but little did I know that the coaching would be so brutal.

    In middle school, I went out for the football team wanting to earn the privilege of wearing the glorious hoodies that only the athletes were allowed to wear. I was fortunate to be among the ones who would survive tryouts, and was even given the opportunity to start at strong-safety and tight end.

    Being a seventh grader starting at two positions would mean my coach would also have the opportunity to “coach me up” on both sides of the field.

    The week before the first game, the head coach just kept barking at me. Either my routes weren’t crisp enough, I didn’t hold my block long enough, or should have recognized the situation faster to make a better defensive play.

    No matter what I was doing, it just wasn’t enough to meet his high standards.

    I may never in the rest of my entire life amass as many pushups as I had to do that week,

    Moreover, I remember walking to the car with my head hanging, as if it weighed as much as a ton of bricks, and my dad asking what was wrong.

    I vented about how my coach was riding me more than the other players and that it was messing with my confidence. My dad began to tell me that it was a good thing that he was coaching me so hard.

    He said, “When people stop giving you constructive criticism, they have most likely given up on you.”

    I took my dad’s words of wisdom and went into the next practices assured that my coach was merely trying to make me the best player possible, because I had the potential to do better than what I was currently doing. (more…)

  • Why Judging People Makes Us Unhappy

    Why Judging People Makes Us Unhappy

    “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” ~Henry David Thoreau

    A friend of mine likes to joke that dying will be a relief because it will put an end to the “heavy burden of judging,” as she calls it. She envisions herself lying in a hospital bed and, moments before death, noticing the ceiling and thinking, “What a hideous green.”

    Here’s a modest proposal: Vow that for the rest of the day, you won’t judge your friends and you won’t judge any strangers you happen to see. This would include a friend who’s a non-stop talker; it would include a friend who’s always complaining about his life. It would include the strangers you pass on the street or see in a waiting room.

    I call it a modest proposal because I’m not even addressing the issue of self-judgment, let alone BP or Gaddafi. No. I’m just asking you not to judge friends or strangers.

    It’s entirely possible you won’t make it past a few minutes without judging someone!

    So, why not just judge away?

    To answer that, let me start by drawing a distinction between judgment and discernment.

    Discernment means perceiving the way things are, period.

    Judgment is what we add to discernment when we make a comparison (implicit or explicit) between how things or people are and how we think they ought to be. So, in judgment, there’s an element of dissatisfaction with the way things are and a desire to have things be the way we want them to be. (more…)