Tag: ego

Don’t Try to Become the Best, Be Your Best Right Now

“Do the best you can, from where you are, with what you have, now.” ~African-American proverb

When I first started on my spiritual path, I desperately wanted to live in a more connected and satisfying way. I had a secret longing to know who I truly was and to finally reach my creative potential—not only as a writer, but also as a person. My intention was to express mastery through spirituality.

At the time, this made perfect sense. Spirituality, for me, was connecting to the creative part of myself—that invisible, powerful place where anything is possible.

A place where dreams are forged and destinies are realized. A place of poetic genius and inspiration. A place where masters live and breathe.

But back then, I didn’t understand that when we embark on this journey, we tend to use what we know—which is almost always ego-based. And the ego can’t get us to where we need to go.

This is because ego has way too much baggage. It weighs us down with things like fear, doubt, self-criticism, and anger. And yet, so many of us try the ego-based route first, as I did.

I egotistically believed that mastery was about pounding on my craft, practicing it with unrelenting determination and will. I made it more about me. It became an intellectual exercise.

I thought it was something that could be forced, conquered even. My motivation was all about achieving the goal—period!

It didn’t take me long to encounter the inevitable setbacks, shortcomings, and failures that come with this kind of thinking. And when I failed to express the master inside of me, I was extremely hard on myself.

The whole thing made me feel inadequate. The more I tried to force the master out, the less I felt like one. To make matters worse, all my teachers were still going on about “expressing mastery” and how easy it was.

It was about then that I stepped back and took a hard look at what mastery really meant to me—to my aspirations and to my life. I realized that this ego-based perspective had been creating limiting beliefs and habits that kept me stuck.

I feared my uncertain future and began to doubt my abilities. I allowed regret for past mistakes to overwhelm me and to crush my sense of self-worth. I even envied others for the rapid strides they seemed to be enjoying.

This ego-driven, high-octane way wasn’t the answer, at least, not for me.

So I decided to look at mastery in a different way—a healthier way.

Granted, I’m still not always successful, but I believe I have a better approach to it nowadays.

I’ve come to believe that mastery shouldn’t be about “being the best” or “knowing everything” or “flawlessness”—quite the opposite, in fact. Mastery is about the process of becoming, not the act of having become.

When mastery becomes ego-driven (as it did for me), we set ourselves up for failure. No only because the ego weighs us down, but because it always tries to win.

But, when your purpose is to live your best life, there is no winning or losing. No goal, no endgame.

There is only you being your best—at that moment, whatever that means to you.

This was immensely liberating. Imagine living your life from where you happen to be right now. To never again beat yourself up for not attaining some imagined goal suggested by somebody else.

I now understand that my spiritual development can’t be measured by my achievements, or lack thereof. The only yardstick is my own level of awareness and how I feel.

My new spiritual perspective and outlook on mastery has transformed me. It means that I can better appreciate who and what I am right now—which is a beautiful, ongoing process of discovery and growth.

Paradoxically, the less I measure, the more I end up growing, as a person and as a writer.

My goals have become more internalized, less tangible. They are also smaller, but no less important. They are about staying mindful and aware, without applying any judgments or criticisms to what is happening.

In this way, I’ve stopped trying to express mastery. Instead I work towards being a master of who I am in this instant—knowing that I am, right now, a perfect expression of me.

If you are feeling blocked or stuck, consider the possibility that your ego and your desire to master your life could be the very thing that is preventing you from getting to where you wish to be.

Instead of trying to force your dreams with an iron will and steadfast determination, try a gentler touch. Stay fully present and aware. Simply give this moment your very best.

Don’t worry about what you think you should be doing and where you should be going. Just be in the process of being you—right here, right now.

And ironically, by not seeking mastery, mastery will find you.

Reaching man image via Shutterstock

October 13, 2014
How to Be Who You Really Are, Beyond Your Ego and Fears
“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
July 13, 2014
How to Get to the Shore When You’re Drowning in Pain

“The intensity of the pain depends on the degree of resistance to the present moment.” ~Eckhart Tolle

Pain can feel like a dark cave with no light to help us find our way out. Or an ocean with waves so big we feel like we can’t ever swim to the shore. Peace is the place we arrive at when we swim to the shore, up and out of the pain we were drowning in. But how do we get there?

For most of us, the first thing we do when we’re in pain is look for somebody to join us so we’re not alone in the darkness of our experience. We hope that by drawing somebody toward us we’ll feel less uncomfortable, like a security blanket that warms and soothes.

It works. They wrap their arms or words around us and we feel more ease, less alone, more protected. We feel like there’s someone there for us.

But it doesn’t take the pain away. I learned this the hard way.

I know I’m not alone in loving love. The high, the affirmation, the cuddles. Not feeling alone anymore. I was what one of my old high school friends once called “a relationshipper.”

Not a dater—someone who casually dated—but someone who went straight from one serious relationship right into the next. I’ll never forget the time one of my well-meaning best friends tried to comfort me post-breakup with the words: “You’ll meet somebody else really soon. You always do.”

That was my wake-up call. I’d been trying to get out of pain by inviting someone else in. It never worked. I just ended up there again.

I finally decided to sit with loneliness, sit with the pain, and not run away from it. Every time I was tempted to call a friend or meet up with someone just to not feel the pain, I didn’t. I sat in it, felt it, cried, got deeply uncomfortable.

And in the process, I got deeply comfortable, too—with being uncomfortable. With being alone. With being on my own. I even got to the point where I was happy. Just me, myself and I. It was okay. It was me.

I feel called to help people in pain. And I was often the one my friends and family called when they were deep in the muck of something terrible. I’d sit and listen, talk soothingly and lovingly, and hope that by the end of the call they’d hang up feeling better—feeling affirmed.

But I didn’t take their pain away. Something else surprising took place—something I only realized recently. What happened was that I affirmed their pain.

Instead of lifting them from it and pulling them to the shore, I affirmed the story their ego was telling them. And the ego is the least peaceful part of us. Always either shrieking to great heights or crashing down to great depths, it’s the part of us that is often terrified.

When I was soothing and listening, I didn’t affirm my friends’ and family’s peace. I affirmed their fear. In a way, I made things worse. Because, although they felt listened to, they hung up without having anything healed. They went on in the same state and space, dragged along up and down by their ego.

When somebody is drowning, we never jump in the water with them. We throw them a life saver and pull them to the shore. When we call a friend and they say, “That’s terrible, you’re right, this is all too much” they climb in the water with us.

There’s a part of us that’s drawn to fear. Our ego and the verbal part of our brain tell us all kinds of stories about what’s terrible or missing. And there’s a part of us that’s drawn to peace: our inner observer is always on-watch, like a lighthouse helping us navigate rough waters.

Somebody who helps us climb out of our pain is much more helpful than somebody who affirms our story. They watch from the place of the observer. And help us get there, too.

Eventually, we get to a place where we can see what we were thinking—the story our ego was telling us—and see that it was a painful version of events. We get to a place of peace. We arrive on the shore, healed.

What if you don’t have a friend who can be at peace and help you get there, too?

Try this.

1. Write down all the thoughts you’re thinking about the situation.

For me, in the pain after a breakup, it was always “I’ll never meet someone.” And “I’ll always be alone.”

2. Then imagine they came from somebody else, that this is a version of events being told by a playwright.

It is—the playwright is your ego.

I imagined a sad, scared version of me, not seeing the whole picture, caught up in fear. Stuck in a room when there was an entire world to explore. Missing it all.

3. Ask yourself if this version of events is bringing you into the power of peace or pulling you out of it.

If it’s pulling you out of it, it’s not serving you. It’s making things worse.

Q: Is this version of events—I’ll never meet someone and I’ll always be alone—pulling me out of peace or bringing me into the power of peace? A: Definitely out of it.

4. Write another version of the situation—a more peaceful one.

It can be the opposite of the first one. Arrive in the place of the observer and the creator.

For me: My different version of the original story lead to: “I’ll meet someone and I’ll never be alone,” which lead to something even greater: “I’m meeting someone right now—myself. And, I’m never alone.” This is a much more peaceful version, and one I could only see when I lifted up out of fear.

Slowly but surely, begin your practice of befriending your ego instead of letting it master you, and stepping out of fear.

Eventually, you’ll arrive at that shore. And know that the next time, you can do it again.

Photo by McBeth Photography

June 10, 2014
Are You Holding Yourself Back with a Story About the Past?

“The distinction between the past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.” ~Albert Einstein

One morning I woke up inexplicably sad. I sat on my bed trying to make sense of how I felt and what could be behind it. Intuitively, I grabbed one of the many books lying on my night table and opened it in a random place.

What I had in my hands was A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose by Eckhart Tolle, and the chapter was called “Breaking Free.”

Tolle explains how we tend to be unconsciously engaged in stories from the past and habitual thoughts about them and how we avoid the feelings associated with them.

Avoiding uncomfortable feelings instead of allowing them to wound us is not the answer, Tolle warns us; emotion is a response to what is happening in the mind.

Our ego clings to false stories that create fear, anger, jealousy, and other emotional responses because it feeds on the past and future for its existence.

The best thing we can do to reduce the impact of these emotions is acknowledge them.

Uncomfortable emotions bring the precious gift of making us aware that we’re trapped in thoughts, beliefs, stories, and old interpretations of ourselves. By being present with our emotions, we can break our identification with them and release the past.

Reminded once more that every emotion is a messenger of something else that’s running deeper, I allowed my sadness to just “be.”

I could see how my past beliefs of being unwanted, undeserving, and punished were dominating the scene. I was living a past story as if it were happening today with an intensity that surprised me.

I realized then that the stories we tell ourselves are a mixture of “old emotions” and experiences we have come to feel as our identity.

“The Unwanted Me” is a personal story that has pervaded my life for too long, making me feel terrified about showing what I have to offer and taking pertinent actions.

From an early age I felt that I was somehow “different.” My environment was one of noisy activities—hanging out, watching TV, or playing video games—while I enjoyed reading, silence, nature, learning, being by myself, and engaging in artistic or volunteering activities.

I was an extroverted introvert; I loved to talk about things I was passionate about, and others mocked me for this.

The rejection made me disappear into a very rich but lonely inner world. As I grew up, I developed an inquisitive mind and artistic tendencies, which seemed to aggravate and scare my relatives and acquaintances even more than my “nerdy” style.

How could I feel so inspired and touched by things that drove others nuts? The battle to correct and bring back on track this lost sheep became so fierce and devastating that it ended with me having to leave home to be able to pursue my dreams.

Finding my way to who I was included not only being homeless and broke but also feeling enormous amounts of guilt and shame for the disappointment and pain I was causing my loved ones by doing the “wrong things.”

It took a lot of hard work to get where I am now. Long nights filled with doubts about my abilities and choices made the call for becoming an artist a painful one.

The pleasure and wonder I felt for the arts became tainted by the belief that there was something inherently wrong with me and I was being punished for challenging traditional points of view.

What I understand today is that I was struggling not only with the “real” day-to-day challenges but also with this invisible past story silently sabotaging my efforts. This is the reason why I feel so tired and frustrated sometimes.

I have actually enjoyed the benefit of having good people in my life and even recognition, but because I was unaware of a hidden script running the show, it took me loads of effort to believe people actually appreciated me for my qualities instead of pitying me.

I felt left alone many times in my life, which was both the result of the old pattern of being unwanted and punished and the fuel that kept the pattern going.

I know better now than to let the old story run wild instead of building the one I want to live. Whenever I feel this way again, I can ask myself: Who is speaking? Is it the real me, or my old “unhappy,” “unwanted,” “unworthy” (fill the blank) story?

Knowing what story we are telling ourselves helps us learn, little by little, to trust life and build the sense of self-worth we need to succeed and be fulfilled.

February 27, 2014
How to Avoid Drama: Stop Taking Things Personally and Needing to Be Right

“Concern yourself not with what is right and what is wrong but with what is important.” ~Unknown

I remember quite distinctly the point where my rational self, less invested in the discussion, took a step back and pointed out that I was descending down the path of needing to prove that I was right.

It was precisely when I started seeing the other commenter as needling my position and attacking the ideas as mine.

What started out as an appeal to respect cultures that celebrate death as a normal part of life, turned into a mud-slinging event the moment I ceased to educate and instead went down the road of righteous anger.

Even if we were to keep our social network to the closest friends and family members, there will inevitably come the time when, as we scroll through our Facebook feed, we encounter something that we disagree with.

If we are not careful about the way we react or respond to these kinds of things, drama will arise.

And oh, such drama it was! Despite not participating any further once some ganging up occurred and outright insults were being flung, I came away from the debacle more furious with myself than anyone else.

In hindsight, it really was hilarious the way it quickly descended into a playground squabble where the crux of the matter was “I’m right, you’re wrong!”

But unlike childhood fights where it is rare that full-blown grudges develop (notice how children make up and play together easily?), the issues that adults tend to have petty fights over are a bit more complicated, simply because we are way more invested in it.

It isn’t over a fire truck belonging to us that can be easily shared with another child. It is occasionally belief systems and ideologies that we think define us, and so we do not take too easily to them being challenged.

I later received a long message from the other person that was essentially an attempt at civility after the earlier descent into childishness. But while the absence of trolling was a nice welcome, here too was another invitation to engage further in another bout of drama.

Ignoring the comments about my character and only clarifying issues I felt were relevant to the earlier discussion, I refused to bite.

What I’m slowly learning, and I am quite a slow learner when it comes to social interactions, is that personal affronts are key to the development of drama, and how we choose to respond to what the other person doles out will determine our state of being.

This isn’t something solely confined to social media interactions, either; Facebook, Twitter, and other sites like them are all just platforms where our interactions take place. Unnecessary drama and squabbles did not appear after the Internet but are simply magnified by it.

If you decide earlier on that personal attacks will not hurt you and that you will not yourself fling insults, you’ll be much more likely to have a discussion that’s conducive for education and sharing of ideas.

These attacks often come out innocuously enough. An adept practitioner of shade can fling one at you with much subtlety, so control is necessary in ensuring that you are always on the right road.

Unfortunately, I have yet to be gracious enough to not throw shade myself, and thus the initial eruption of drama stemmed from my lack of control. We cannot control will perceive or retaliate with, but we can choose how we respond to them.

The moment we choose to take the issues personally, we cease to participate in civil discourse as we insist upon the particular details that we feel attack our characters.

We feel the need to yell that we are right rather than strive to seek and communicate truth.

With that said, I am certainly not excusing those who choose to create conflict rather than communicate peacefully. Once you see things heading down that awful road, it’s best to simply disengage and leave because nothing fruitful will come out of it.

What matters at this point, I feel, is how you resolve your position, and it isn’t about how you appear to other people who may be watching (or reading the thread), but how you now feel about your beliefs and ideas.

Are ad hominem attacks ever conducive to the truth? The moment we associate ego and pride with our various ideologies, we miss the mark.

In a world of multivariate opinions, beliefs, and philosophies, friction is bound to occur when these ideas inevitably collide.

There are certain fields more volatile than others, like politics and religion, and they require careful treading. When in the thick of drama, especially with drama-hungry spectators egging us on, we lose the point and indulge, instead, in a battle of wits over who can yell the loudest in being right.

To keep drama at bay, it is necessary to maintain that, while ideas form much of what we think we are, they are merely constructs that only help us make sense of life and do not essentially form who we are.

If someone attacks what we believe, they’re not attacking us. They’re disagreeing with our opinion because they hold a different point of view. And if they choose to attack us personally, it’s likely not about us, but rather reflective of their fear-based attachment to their beliefs.

It is perhaps worth bearing this in mind whenever we feel the urge to take something personally.

February 9, 2014
6 Tips to Help You Free Yourself from Your Fearful Thoughts

“Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it.” ~Eckhart Tolle

Here I am, huddled up close to the wood burner, my only source of heat, sitting on an old recliner chair that was given to me, in a rented apartment with windows soaked with condensation. Outside it is cold, wet, and dreary, a typical English winter’s day.

My business folded in July with substantial personal debt and I turned forty-four in August.

Perhaps not the most heart-warming start to a post, but rather some raw facts of how my life is now, not x number of years ago before I turned my life around, but now! I’m pretty sure I am not alone in this situation I find myself.

In July when I folded my never very successful business resulting in substantial personal debt, the first thing I did was completely freak out—panic attacks, endless anxiety, depressive thoughts, the whole nine yards.

I went to my doctor who gave me anti-anxiety medication without a second thought. I tried them for a couple of months, but I had been down that route before and this time I felt that it was not the solution to my problems. So after consulting with the doc I carefully weaned myself off of them.

What I needed was answers as to what was causing me so much pain inside rather than a Band-Aid to cover it. I needed to find out why I seemed to have spent my entire life under a shadow, a shadow from which I never felt comfortable emerging to engage fully with the world for fear of being seen.

Enter Tiny Buddha. I found Tiny Buddha by chance while endlessly searching for answers as to what was broken in me. What I discovered after reading hundreds of posts was a revelation: I am not broken.

After digging deeper, I began to realize that I was locked in a trance most of the time, a trance created by my egoic mind. A trance shaped by fear during my formative years. My psyche was trying to protect me from the fear and lack of safety I felt when growing up; it was trying to keep me safe.

My childhood interpretation of the events I experienced, combined with non-compassionate and non-understanding authority figures, led my psyche to decide that the best way to deal with life was to retreat to a place of safety and hide, to not get involved or be exposed in any way.

It met any situation or event that it interpreted as fearful with vigorous resistance.

As most things in life contain some element of fear and anticipation, especially new things, my egoic mind trance was active most of the time, constantly in the background, ready to come to my rescue at the slightest whiff of perceived danger.

The irony is that my mind’s way of “rescuing” me was to paralyze me with feelings of dread, worry, and anxiety, coupled with the physical feelings associated with panic.

It’s not easy when your egoic mind has spent the greater part of your life trying to convince you that it is the only place where you are safe.

Over the years the egoic mind has plenty of time to really go to town building a devilishly intricate trance machine that becomes deeply entrenched in the psyche. Mine was so entrenched that I thought it was me. Until recently, that is.

What I am learning from reading many posts on Tiny Buddha, which led me to books, podcasts, and other resources on the subject of the being, is this:

1. We need to realize that we truly are not our thoughts.

Our thoughts come from the egoic mind. We are the awareness that hears the thoughts.

When you talk to yourself inside your mind, to whom are you actually talking? It is your awareness, and that is who you are, that is your being. Not the thoughts.

Your thoughts are just constructs of your egoic mind. You can actually choose to let them float on by without believing or engaging them, should you choose to.

2. Understand it is not your fault that your mind is causing you such pain; it’s a product of evolution.

Back in the days of caves and things with sharp pointy teeth, you were more likely to survive if you were ever vigilant of danger—meaning the genes that favored this behavior were more likely to get passed down… to you.

The egoic mind thinks it is helping you by keeping you safe and trapped inside a trance. It is not its fault, and you have to face your trance thoughts with compassion and love, and be able to forgive yourself. It really isn’t your fault.

3. Use meditation and mindfulness throughout the day; learn to see the space between the real you—which is awareness—and the egoic mind, as its thoughts race by.

Observe thoughts for what they are: just thoughts. Try not to allow yourself to become absorbed in your thoughts and go into trance, but do not punish yourself if you do.

Be kind and compassionate to yourself when you recognize you have drifted away and start fresh in the moment, returning to a state of mindful awareness whenever you can.

4. Identify the trance thoughts and emotions as they arise and name them.

For example, “Oh, this is fear I am feeling, just fear,” or “I feel you dread and worry; it’s okay,” or “Hello shame and unworthiness; I see you.”

This technique of compassionate recognition will reduce the power they have over you, as you have exposed them for what they really are: just thoughts.

5. Remember that it takes perseverance and practice, lots of it.

Another fun thing we inherited from our ancestors is that the fear of something can become embedded in our long-term memory even after a single, brief exposure to it. Conversely, it takes much longer and repeated exposure to positive stimuli before they are committed to long-term memory.

6. Each time you notice yourself in a state of negativity, use it as an opportunity to practice, to mindfully observe your thoughts with acceptance and compassion.

This will allow them to flow through and out of you rather than be kept inside to be constantly recycled.

Do not beat yourself up if you find it difficult to let go of thinking. Be patient and compassionate with yourself. It took you more than a few days to learn to read and write. It will take a little time for you to calm your egoic mind and let your awareness shine through.

This is the path I have begun to walk. I’ve begun to let go of expectations about others and myself; to learn to be compassionate and to love myself; to accept who I am, and where I am in this moment; to try not to judge others or myself. To know that in this moment everything is okay.

And now that my cat is lying on my lap, I guess that means it is time to finish this. Life is all about these moments.

Photo by D.Ph

January 2, 2014
25 Ways to Make a Difference in the World Every Day

“The way to gain a good reputation is to endeavor to be what you desire to appear.” ~Socrates

When I started Tiny Buddha, my main goal was to make a positive difference. I think that’s a goal many of us share.

I’ve stumbled upon countless blog and books written by people who say their purpose in life is to help people.

I suspect it’s how most of us infuse our lives with meaning: trying to somehow leave the world a better place than we found it.

I recently read a somewhat old blog post by ex-Microsoft employee Scott Berkun that got me thinking about this collective fascination with making a difference in the world. He wrote:

“We rarely need big things. As soon as someone starts talking about changing the world or radically reinventing something odds are good he’s talking from his ego, not his heart. Unless he’s working on bringing safety to the scared, health to the sick, or opportunity to the poor, the reinvention serves a want (or an ego), not a need.”

He went to explain how on his last day at Microsoft, he gave a lecture and one of his colleagues thanked him for the first time, saying he’d never expressed his admiration before because he assumed it was apparent. According to Scott:

“…it takes a better man to acknowledge goodness in others than it does to merely be good oneself. Anyone can criticize or accept praise, but initiating a positive exchange is a hallmark of a difference maker.”

What a beautiful idea. I couldn’t agree more. (more…)

December 24, 2013
Why It’s Not Selfish to Ask Someone You Love for Help

“Learn to appreciate what you have before time makes you appreciate what you had.” ~Unknown

I’m a woman in midlife who thought she was set after a long successful career and the promise of financial security. I supported my own way through most of my life, fending for myself and then my two children, even during a 15-year marriage that ended badly and another that never really began.

For a number of reasons my plans for an early and secure retirement ended a few years ago. The long story is for another time; the short story is health, burnout, spiritual growth, reorganization…life.

A few months later, my oldest daughter announced she was engaged. I wanted to do for her what I always had been able to—give her what she wants—but I was no longer able to.

Now the wedding is only weeks away and the final plans and payments are being secured. More than we expected of course, despite her diligent attention to adhering to a modest budget.

“You don’t have to, but I was just wondering…if you can…can you send more money? If you can’t, it’s okay. We will spend our own money,” she requested by e-mail reluctantly.

On the one hand, I wanted to just say, “Yes, of course,” no questions asked; on the other, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to draw boundaries and to not do more than I was able.

But on the hand that holds my heart, she was my little girl about to get married, and I didn’t know how to say no.

But how could I say yes, with mounting medical bills, another year of tuition for my other daughter, and having found myself unemployed and unable to work for more than two years?

I had never done this before, but in a quizzical moment that felt something like an inspiration, I decided to call my parents.

My parents struggled financially for most of their life, but in their senior years they found themselves able to live fairly comfortably on their fixed incomes, with some money in the bank.

I had never asked them for help before, and at 54 years old—having taken care of my own needs without help my whole life—it felt like some sort of failure on my part to make this choice.

But for the sake of my daughter, I had to.

My Dad picked up the phone, as I had hoped he would, and my Mom was out, as I hoped she would be. Daddy’s little girl and all. A much easier appeal.

At first I felt so bad having to ask my Dad for money. I didn’t ask for much, but for a man who never was able to give much, not much is a lot.

I cried, and he tried to soothe me, hardly able to stand his little girl crying. Only now his “little girl” is 54 and he’s 80.

He’s starting to break down. Little things, I can tell. But still, we are father and daughter, you know?

He didn’t hesitate. He said he wished he could have done more. He said, “You are my flesh and blood.”

Then soon after, I stopped feeling bad. I think I actually started to believe I made him feel good. He got to be a hero today.

It’s still such a small gesture, but such a large one.

After I got off the phone I saw it all differently. There was indeed some goodness that came from my shame of not working and not making my own money right now—a chance to let him shine, to help. In a small way but a big way at the same time.

Suddenly, I felt glad that I’d asked, and that I hadn’t let my ego need to show up as strong and infallible outweigh my daughter’s need, my need, and my Dad’s (and Mom’s) willingness and ability to become a hero for our family.

I’m glad he got to do it. I’m thinking he needed to, in a way. Something for him to leave of himself before he goes.

This whole experience made me realize something else, which was even more profound. I’ve had my parents around for so long that I’ve been lulled into believing they always will be.

I’m lucky and grateful to be this age and to still have my parents—both of them to call on, and even more so for them to be there for me.

I have not given much thought to what it would be like to no longer have them, but this exchange gave me the opportunity to realize that I’m really going to miss them when they do pass on.

It will be strange and empty and weird when there physical presence is no more. In their own way, they have always been there, no matter what.

I think my Dad got to be a hero today. And my daughter gets to have the wedding she wants. And in some indirect way, I got to give each of these to both of them.

Give someone you love this chance if it comes up. Don’t view it as weak or vulnerable to allow someone to step into their light and glory, and to give of themselves in a way that makes them feel good.

Photo by Thejas

August 6, 2013
The Key to Accomplishing Goals: Moving from Ego to Spirit
“Change is inevitable. Growth is intentional.” ~Glenda Cloud

My life is over.

That’s what I thought when I got the news that I’d lost my job after fifteen years with two sister companies. I loved this job. I was on the road to becoming everything I thought I wanted to be—a Hollywood studio vice president, well on my way to running a studio someday.

I was doing something I loved, developing stories. And now it was all over.

Have you ever had a moment like that? When the end of something in your life felt like the end of your life? You’re not just being overdramatic—when we lose a job or relationship or role, we do experience loss. So how do we pick ourselves up and move on?

For me, even though my Hollywood job had ended, in a way it was Hollywood that saved me, too. I realized that I needed to shift my perspective. Losing this job wasn’t the end of my story; it was the difficult middle.

Think of all the movies you’ve seen where, at the midpoint of the story, the hero starts to run into some serious obstacles. It’s at this moment when she starts to see the weakness in her approach to her problems.

She has to go through an “all is lost moment” before she can reach the “aha” moment when she realizes what she really has to do to achieve her goals.

In the best stories, this moment represents a shift from ego to spirit.

For example, in The King’s Speech, it’s not until our hero Bertie’s brother gives up the throne, forcing Bertie to do the thing he fears most—speak in public—that he changes his perspective.

Instead of focusing on his own ego and his fear of humiliation, he learns to focus on leading his people. When Bertie makes this shift from the ego to the spirit, he realizes how achieving his goal of conquering his stutter is really about serving others.

When I looked at losing my job through the lens of story, I realized that I, too, had been too attached to my ego.

I was so focused on that end goal of running a studio someday that I’d become blind to the way my work was affecting me on a spiritual level.

I had started doing things that went against my true values. I had stopped listening to my colleagues, because my ego didn’t want to hear anyone else’s ideas. But my story wasn’t over—this was just the difficult middle.

Changing my perspective would change the story of my life.

When you hit obstacles in your life story, you may find yourself humbled. But at that moment you have a choice: Will you stick with your old ego-driven perspective, or will you transcend it? Is your story over, or is this just the difficult middle?

When you experience this kind of loss, putting your ego aside will help you figure out the next chapter in your story. There are three steps involved in making this mental shift:
- Recognition
- Action
- Accomplishment
Recognizing that we’ve been driven by ego is the first step toward resolving the problem.

Understanding how my attachment to ego had led to the end of my job helped me pick myself up and redefine my goals. I decided to use my experience to help others achieve their dreams instead of continuing to strive for personal gain.

Once you’ve recognized the role of your ego, you need to take action to change the direction of your story.

Let your spirit guide your actions instead of your ego. Instead of focusing inward and dwelling on your loss, reach outward. Redefine your goals to make them more about connecting and serving others.

I’ve found that pursuing a goal that’s about connection to others is much more fulfilling than pursuing a goal that’s about glorifying my ego. I believe if you find a spirit-driven goal, you’re more likely to feel like you’re moving toward a happy ending.

Spirit-guided action will actually make it easier for you to accomplish your goals. When we’re consumed by our own desires, we don’t allow room for other people’s perspectives. We don’t see how our actions might affect others. Other people become obstacles instead of potential partners.

True communication with yourself and with others will put you in harmony with your spirit and the world around you. Acting out of this harmony will create the momentum you need to achieve your goals.

Let the obstacles you face prompt you to reevaluate your goals. Is your spirit setting your agenda, or your ego? How will letting go of your ego help you connect to others? How might that connection change the way you define your intentions?

When we feel connected instead of isolated and detached, we transcend our own small egos. And just like the heroes of our favorite stories, when we transcend our own perspectives, we ultimately find greater fulfillment.

If you look at your life as a story, you’ll see that obstacles push you toward growth. That loss or change isn’t the end of your story—it’s just the beginning of your new chapter.

Lori’s Note: I was thrilled to interview Jen Grisanti for my first ever eCourse. Learn more about the course, Recreate Your Life Story: Change the Script and Be the Hero, here.
June 27, 2013
How to Speak Your Mind Without Making Someone Else Wrong
“Would you rather be right or free?” ~Byron Katie

Do you have the freedom to say what you really feel? Do you share your true thoughts and ideas, or do you struggle to avoid hurting, disappointing, or angering others?

It can be easier to try to meet others’ expectations and avoid conflict. We may even believe we are making someone happy by not speaking our truth. What’s the cost? Slowly giving up fragments of who we genuinely are: our authentic self.

There was a time when right and wrong worked for me. I had stability, harmony, and a practical path for pursuing a career in accounting, marrying a wonderful man, and raising three beautiful children.

I didn’t realize I was following expectations of what I thought should make me happy based on what I learned and believed to be true. I was living on the surface, stuck in the paradigm of right and wrong. Though I was happy, something was missing.

Until I ventured within and followed my real passion (psychology, writing, and seeking spiritual truth), I couldn’t see that I’d been living in the framework of family norms and social conditioning, not knowing how to listen to myself.

I grew up shy, fearful of having the wrong answer, one that didn’t fit into what others told me I should be, do, know, and think.

The social mask forms the moment we’re born and we hear our first words. We learn to please, meet expectations, and avoid sharing our feelings, which can turn into a lifelong struggle to be good enough, know enough, and have enough.

We long to be seen and heard for who we are unconditionally, but we find ourselves on the path of conditional love, seeking the approval and appreciation from others that we eventually discover must come from within.

When I began sharing my ideas, it went against expectations of “right and wrong,” and I faced criticism and judgment. I was finally following my own values and the things that excited me.

I’d eagerly share with my family, not realizing how far “out of the box” I’d gone, and was met with silence, or criticism behind my back.

As I stepped into my beliefs, I encountered defensiveness and attempts to prove I was wrong. Conflict for the first time! Both of us were living in our ego’s fear, needing to be right in a space of “how could you think that?”

Then a twenty-year friendship ended abruptly when I wasn’t following her “right” way of business ethics.

As university friends, we had both become coaches, leaving behind our corporate careers, and suddenly I was a competitor instead of a friend.

She felt the need to control the way I did business. Sadly, it turned out to be more important than our friendship.

Soon after, I faced blaming, false assumptions, and horrific judgments from a friend of over a decade. I no longer followed her “right way,” which culminated in a six-page letter about why I was wrong, and who I should be—otherwise this friendship wasn’t working for her!

I was shocked, and felt enormous hurt, disbelief, and some things I didn’t expect: anger, hatred, and resentment.

I hadn’t felt this intensity of negative emotions toward anyone in my entire life. I couldn’t forgive because I’d become attached to my way needing to “be right” for her.

At the same time I’d developed a strong inner trust, validated by the most fulfilling life experiences in all areas of my life. Suddenly, I could see that who was right and wrong didn’t matter.

I was judging her for judging me!

I was also trying to correct her in an effort to fix her, convincing her of my beliefs, needing to control, or trying to change her to make me happy.

It often happens with those close to us who are now hurting us with their “disregard, disobedience, or disrespect” for not following our right way.

I now held the energy of criticism (finding fault, complaining), and judgment (blaming, resentment, punishment). While I trusted what was right for my well-being, I needed to let go of it being right for someone else.

Doing this does not mean we accept or absolve responsibility for all manner of words and behavior. It just means that we stop blaming and judging someone else and consider that they’re doing their best from their own state of consciousness.

The constructive or destructive choices they make form their learning and experiences, and can only be 100% their responsibility.

We may have the best of intentions with our criticism and judgment, and we might find ways to punish, yell, impose, demand, and justify them as the “right way,” but love does not condemn.

When we’re coming from a place of love, we share, teach, and role model in a space of curiosity, compassion, and understanding.

How do you communicate authentically from a judgment-free space so others will stay open to your thoughts? It may help to use these phrases:
- I notice that…
- Are you willing to…
- I’m curious about…
- Here’s how I’m feeling, what are you feeling?
- Are you open to hearing my thoughts and feelings around this?
- Here’s what I desire for our relationship…what do you want?
- Are you willing to listen to my point of view, even if it may not be the same as yours?
- I’m feeling disappointed or not okay with….because what’s important to me is…
- I think/believe that…what do you think/believe?
- What exactly did you mean by…
- I just want to understand where you’re coming from, can you say more about…?
You may want to avoid certain phrases that come across as criticism and judgment, as they may cause defensiveness and affect other’s ability to be authentic with you:
- You should…
- You never….
- You always…
- Why can’t you get that….
- What’s wrong with you?
- Why or how can you not see that…
- I’m so disappointed that you…
- How could you…?
- I can’t believe you…
- You are so…
I’ve learned that, at times, I cannot be authentic because it will bring out someone’s ego (blaming, complaining, condemning), even if I share from a genuine place of love.

We have no control over where someone chooses to live on the spectrum of fear versus love, and must discern whether there’s space to share—and what’s better left unsaid, so we don’t step on other people’s spiritual path.

Sometimes we may simply need to wish others well on their journey, creating a new space for both sides to reflect on what truly matters. This is also a loving choice.

And when you love without judgment, you won’t need to be right because you’ll be free.

“Out beyond ideas of right  and wrong there is a field. I will meet you there.” ~Rumi

Photo by Elvert Barnes
May 30, 2013
4 Ways To Take The Ego Out of Money Decisions

“Prosperity depends more on wanting what you have than having what you want.” ~Geoffrey Abert

Nothing has the power to mess up my finances more than my own brain—or, more precisely, my ego.

According to Eckhart Tolle, the ego entails the habitual and compulsive thought processes that go through everybody’s mind continuously. Left unchecked, this constant ego monologue prevents us from focusing on the present moment. Instead, we get caught up in worrying about what happens next. Or, in my case, what I want to buy next.

My Ego Challenges

As a financial planner, you would think that I would have mastered money challenges! But the reality is, I have struggled as much as the next person because I allowed my ego to drive my decisions for almost five years.

When you’re a new financial planner, it’s easy to get caught up in creating the image of a successful planner—in fact, my first manager told me it was okay to go into debt to get a “successful” wardrobe!

And it doesn’t stop there; I bought the “right” car, the “right” house in the “right” neighborhood; and before long, I was exhausted from maintaining appearances. I may have looked like the perfect planner, but I sure didn’t feel like one.

I never enjoyed my successes, because I was too obsessed with getting the next thing on the list.

I finally realized that no amount of money would ever be enough to feel happy, regardless of what my ego told me. And so much money was going to maintaining appearances that I never felt truly prosperous, even though I was making more money than I ever had before.

That was the point at which I sold a successful practice and struck out on my own.

I decided that if I wasn’t happy with what I had, I needed to reboot. I don’t think everyone needs to take such drastic action; most people can simply bring more awareness to their decisions and start to course-correct as they go.

The reason I changed everything so dramatically—sold my business and my home and moved to a completely new city—was that I not only needed to get clear, I needed to recuperate. Letting my ego drive my life choices and burying my true self had made me physically sick, with hypothyroidism and adrenal burnout. (more…)

September 30, 2012
How to Let Go of Fear to Live Passionately and Authentically

“If we are not fully ourselves, truly in the present moment, we miss everything.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

I’ve done a lot of stripping lately. It’s been liberating. I’ve been peeling away layers of the ego—all the accumulated stuff—to find who I am at the core.

It wasn’t too long ago when I noticed how quickly my life would go from an extreme high to an extreme low—how one moment could seem so perfect and wonderful, and then suddenly something would happen and it would turn into a less appealing scene.

The story went something like this: “Life is good. No it’s not. Life is good. No it’s not…” This narrative repetitiously replayed like a bad remix.

I was never fulfilled because I was always dependent on something outside of me—the praise I received that day, what the scale said, how great my workout was, or the next scheduled vacation.

I remember the first time I published a piece of my writing and I asked my husband: “Is it perfect?” Then I agonized over what kind of feedback it would get.

He smiled and quickly said, “Perfect is too many people to please, babe.”

His words resonated with me and peeled away one layer of my ego. Slowly, more layers began to peel as I became aware that I’d given my worth to other people. I’d become reliant on external feedback because I did not value what I was worth. (more…)

May 9, 2011
Our Shared Fears & 5 Ways to Overcome Them

“Fear is inevitable, I have to accept that, but I cannot allow it to paralyze me.” ~Isabel Allende

In life, we experience two kinds of fear: real fear and psychological fear. Or, as I prefer to think of the latter, ego-fear.

In the words of Immanuel Kant, the ego is “our precious little self.” Or as Eckhart Tolle calls it, “the voice in the head.” It isn’t who you really are, but the you that you think you are.

Each day, what you see in the mirror is the reflection of your physical being, and within, you may get glimpses of your unique personality in that reflection too, in between your laugh lines or furrowed brow. Still, it’s not really you.

Same thing with the roles you inhabit each day and how they are reflected back to you: as friend, lover, parent, child, worker, boss. These are different selves we pick up each day as needed, as the situation or relationship summons them.

But knowing that these roles, as well as your reflection in the mirror, are not who you actually are is an important distinction to which all enlightened, sentient beings become aware.

With this background, we can better understand our shared fears and how to overcome them. (more…)

November 16, 2010