Tiny Buddha

Tag: empathy

  • How I Learned to Stop Absorbing Other People’s Emotions

    How I Learned to Stop Absorbing Other People’s Emotions

    “Sometimes I think I need a spare heart to feel all the things I feel.” ~Sanober Khan

    I felt her agony and loneliness as if it were my own. Even as I write that sentence, my eyes well up and heaviness fills my heart. Then, I’m reminded to apply the advice I give others.

    My mom was a special person, a sensitive soul just like me. Actually, I’m so much like she was, yet so different. One of the differences between us is that I had an opportunity to observe her life’s challenges. I saw her challenges reflected within myself and made a conscious choice to find healthy ways to cope.

    You see, my mom was a deep feeler and felt the emotions of people near and far. I imagine it was her strong empathy and personal challenges that led her to want to help others, as a wounded healer in a sense.

    But as a helper and healer, she struggled with her mental and emotional health over the years. Witnessing her life moved me to learn how to regulate my own sensitive emotions and set healthy boundaries.

    Sometimes I wonder if not knowing how to manage her empathy is what made her sick.

    There are many ways to understand the challenges my mom battled before her death in 2007. From her perspective, she had a rare, unknown physical illness. Some who knew her may have thought she was manipulative and attention-seeking. Some would see an addiction to pain medication. Psychologists would diagnose her with psychosomatic disorder, borderline personality disorder, and bipolar disorder.

    Maybe all and none of those explanations are true. But perhaps she didn’t have any “disorder” at all. I’m not really asserting that to be true, but merely posing a curious question. What if she was just a sensitive, empathic person who lacked the skills to manage the pain around and within her? What if one unhelpful coping mechanism led a to slew of other ailments?

    I believe my mom felt real physical and emotional pain. I struggled to fully understand her over the years. But after many years of reflection, I now trust her experience because of what I know about my own sensitive nature.

    As sensitive people, we may present with high emotion and feel easily overwhelmed by our senses. We’re often told by the world that there’s something wrong with us. And when we think there’s something inherently wrong with us, we tend to tuck these traits away into our “shadow” or unconscious mind.

    Well, now we’ve not only tucked away our core nature, but possibly the empathic depth that goes along with being a sensitive person as well. There may be a part of us that knows that we’re emotional sponges. Yet, we may choose to ignore our nature without really learning how to manage our empathy in such a way that prevents “dis-ease” and fosters well-being.

    This was me for a long time.

    Not only am I prone to feeling depleted and drained in situations with certain people, but emotional pain of others tends to show up in my physical body. When I over-feel, my throat feels like it’s closing and as my chest constricts, my chronic back pain flares up.

    My boyfriend was complaining of one of those small, painful pimples inside his nose recently. I got one as well. We joked about sympathy pains, but I do wonder sometimes.

    I’ve felt the emotional pain of my family, friends, clients, and strangers. It’s not a simple, “Oh, I feel bad for him.” It’s feeling the despair and rejection of that teenager whose parents didn’t pick him up when he was released from the behavioral hospital where I worked. It’s the deep anguish of being that relative who feels no one believes her and she’s all alone.

    I feel challenged to find the right language to express it all because the deep heartache and heavy burden is a feeling not a word.

    The thing is that no matter how painful it is to feel the weight of the world in my body, I wouldn’t trade my depth and ability to feel for anything. The empathy that comes with high sensitivity is a true gift if we know how to use it.

    We need more kind, compassionate souls if we want to heal the world. Sensitive people have a natural capacity to show kindness because of our profound empathy.

    Deep empathy gives us a special strength in relating and connecting to others. When we genuinely care, we’re more apt to be able to understand another person in a way not that all people can. Our sincerity can help us to develop meaningful, fulfilling relationships.

    Relationships offer us a chance to not only grow a deep sense of connection with another human being, but also an opportunity to learn about ourselves. Both of these are integral to the human experience.

    And as sensitive people, we not only feel the intensity of pain, but also the intensity of joy.

    Yet, regulating our empathy is key to stopping the flood of emotion from overwhelming our ability to cope and care for our well-being.

    If we want to stop absorbing emotional baggage from others, it all starts with taking care of our physical, social, mental, emotional, and spiritual needs. I know it sounds like the whole world is harping on the idea of self-care, but there’s a reason for this.

    When our own immune system or energy is depleted, we become a perfect sponge for sopping up emotions. We must take care of ourselves to avoid absorption in the first place.

    1. When you notice heavy emotion, start by labeling what you’re feeling.

    Labeling helps to bring us into a state of pause, which can help us to gain a little distance from the emotional experience for a moment.

    2. Ask yourself whether what you’re feeling is yours, someone else’s, or a mix of the two.

    It can be difficult to discern the difference sometimes. One approach I like to take is if I think I might be feeling a particular person’s “stuff,” I’ll imagine the person as completely whole, content, and full of light. Then I’ll revisit my own experience and see if I still feel the same way.

    This played out in a recent loss in my life. While I was experiencing my own grief, when my relative who was closest to this person seemed to start to heal, I realized that much of my sadness released as well.

    3. The moment you catch yourself feeling emotions that aren’t yours, raise your awareness of what’s happening within you.

    It can help to say the word “compassion” to yourself as a way of intentionally focusing on what you can do to be supportive rather than allowing yourself to be overpowered by emotion.

    4. Take a deep breath and notice where in your body you feel the most calm, grounded, or neutral.

    It might be as simple as your toe or finger. Bring your attention to that place in your body and allow it to be a centering force to keep you grounded while you process and release any feelings you may have absorbed. Sometimes just having one calm place in our body can serve as a resource when the rest of you is feeling overwhelmed.

    5. Return the other person’s emotions to them.

    It is not your responsibility to carry other people’s emotional distress, and equally important, it helps absolutely no one. Try saying to yourself, “I’m letting this emotional pain that is not mine go now.” Remember that other people have to go through their own processes in order to grow.

    6. Use visualization to fully release the emotions.

    I find that it helps me to visualize a waterfall flowing through my body as a final release of any residual emotional gunk I might be carrying.

    —

    At the center of all of the above steps is building the awareness to know when we’re allowing ourselves to absorb and and adopting tools to reduce this propensity. As a sensitive person, your empathy is a gift that the world needs. It’s up to each of us to channel our empathy into greater compassion so that we can remain strong and well.

  • The Antidote to Shame: I Know I Am Enough

    The Antidote to Shame: I Know I Am Enough

    “You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.” ~Maya Angelou

    I grew up with a father who was an addict. When I was fourteen my dad hit rock bottom and lost a job with a six-figure salary, my parents separated, my dad went to rehab for alcoholism and sex addiction, and I learned my dad had been cheating on my mom.

    My dad’s immense shame for his actions led to him being on suicide watch in the rehab hospital where he was staying. Even though I knew the word “shame” at the age of fourteen, I was not acutely aware of what it meant. But looking back, this was not only my dad’s overwhelming feeling, but also my own emotional state.

    I can remember a Sunday school member, from my mom’s class, coming over to give my mom a check to help with our house payment. It was such a wonderful, kind gesture, but I felt so embarrassed that my friend’s parents were giving up their own money, money they could use for themselves, in order to keep a roof over our heads.

    My feelings of shame deepened as I found our family depending on church and family members to keep us financially afloat.

    My mom was so depressed that our home quickly became a mess, which further isolated me, because I felt too mortified to invite friends over. I was deeply ashamed of my dad and our messy home, and without realizing it, I started to develop feelings of inadequacy.

    In my fourteen-year-old mind, my family defined who I was, and their mistakes left me feeling not good enough and not worthy. 

    At this young age I had never heard Maya Angelou’s words, “You alone are enough,” so I tried to prove my worth by getting a job at the young age of fourteen. And my work, school, and activities at church became a means to prove to others I was good enough.

    Now, at the age of thirty-nine, I still recognize this tendency to demonstrate my value to others. Because of my story, I will likely need to work at reminding myself of my beauty and worth for the rest of my life. Maybe this is true for you as well.

    I’ve realized that shame led me to spend a great deal of my life being a plastic surgeon of sorts, who constantly tried to cover up my imperfections. Shame encouraged me to keep a perfect house, always wear makeup, and to build a resume that said I was somebody.

    Obviously it’s not a bad thing to keep a clean house, maintain your physical appearance, or obtain graduate degrees. I don’t regret some of the accomplishments I’ve made along the way, and yet I’m aware that I’ve worked myself to death at times, in order to validate my worthiness.

    Shame is the voice in our heads that questions our own worth and beauty, and the devil on our shoulder that convinces us we don’t measure up.

    For me, it has been incredibly important to let go of the need to be perfect, in the process of healing my shame. If I don’t have to be perfect, I can then be honest and vulnerable with friends about the struggles I am facing in life.

    Early my marriage, it was important for me to create the illusion that I had the perfect marriage. But if you are married or in a relationship of any kind, you know sustaining a partnership can be incredibly tough. When I started to open up to my friends about this, I noticed they were more open with me about the struggles in their relationships.

    When we start to share the painful aspects of our story with others, it’s often as if we can hear the crickets, cicadas, our friends, and all of creation join in a mighty chorus of “me too.” And once we hear the “me too” somehow it normalizes our story, and reminds us we are all on this journey of being human together.

    Another important tool for me on the quest to free myself from shame has been to find people who offer me empathy and acceptance. 

    Shame can be a very isolating feeling that makes us feel like we are sinking in quicksand, but when we keep our story to ourselves, our profound feelings of self-loathing deepen and we descend further into the sand. However, one antitoxin to avert shame is finding safe people who will receive our stories and help pull us out of the sand that traps us.

    How do we find these people? I encourage you to think of someone in your circle of friends, at your workplace, in your family, or at your place of worship who is accepting, empathetic, free of judgment, and who it just feels good to be around.

    The person you are likely thinking of is type of person who kindly remembers when you’ve had a recent death in the family, and when they ask you how you are managing with the grief and loss, you really feel that they care about you.

    This is someone who it feels safe to share your darkest secrets with because you believe this person will confidently hold your story.

    When I was a teenager, the first people I really trusted to share my shame and pain with were counselors, the youth leaders at my church, and eventually I opened up to trusted friends.

    It can be incredibly scary to open up to others with our shame stories, and yet when we find the audacity to share parts of ourselves we are hiding, we then start to find our voice, see our strengths, and recognize our shared humanity with others.         

    It is so healing to experience people who receive our shame stories and who see and affirm us, even when we feel unworthy of this love. And even though I am aware these external voices of affirmation are paramount in the task of healing the shame that binds me, I am aware the most vital voice is my own internal voice.

    It is so important for us to see our beauty, accept ourselves, celebrate who we are, and to know that we matter. So when we start to doubt ourselves, it is very important for us to remind ourselves that we are enough.

    Knowing that we are enough means that we see our gifts. So what are the gifts we have to offer the world? And do we know deep down in our soul that we are enough? It is crucial in the process of healing the shame we internalize, to start affirming ourselves and our value.

    I have turned one of my favorite Maya Angelou quotes on it’s head and made it into the following mantra:

    Take a deep inhale and exhale and then say out loud or in your mind’s eye:

    I am enough.

    Take a deep inhale and exhale and then say out loud or in your mind’s eye:

    I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.

    Don’t end up like me and waste way too many years trying to prove your worth. You are complete, beautiful, and worthy just as you are.

    Let’s give up the exhausting task of becoming plastic surgeons who try to cover up our blemishes, and instead remember that our scars are actually signs of strength, life, resilience, and beauty.

    Instead of being a plastic surgeon who masks and hides shame, I am now making it my mission to become a soul surgeon. I believe the task of a soul surgeon is to operate on shame through: naming our vulnerabilities, surrounding ourselves with people who celebrate us, and making sure we find a voice from within that knows our own worth and value.

    We are truly enough. May we let this knowledge settle into our mind, bones, flesh, heart, and every part of our being.

  • A Most Difficult Lesson: People Are Just Doing Their Best

    A Most Difficult Lesson: People Are Just Doing Their Best

    “People are doing the best that they can from their own level of consciousness.” ~Deepak Chopra

    My father passed away suddenly and not so suddenly several weeks back.

    He had been sick for a long time, but it was a gradually progressing illness and not what ultimately caused his passing. So, it did come as a shock, and the last few weeks have been filled with all the random things you need to do when someone dies—change the names on insurance policies and automobile titles, call social security, etc.

    The list seems endless, but now that the tasks are winding down, the silence that is settling in is leaving both my mom and I alone with our feelings.

    I knew this silence would come, and I dreaded it. I was afraid I’d think terrible thoughts about him, and that in turn would make me feel like a terrible person. It’s a long story…

    There’s no sugarcoating it: My dad was not a great father to me. He provided for our family and didn’t do drugs or drink. He bought us nice presents for the holidays. He did teach us a healthy respect for the rules. He also made it very clear he had a favorite child, and it wasn’t me.

    He wasn’t affectionate to me, and he once told me as a child that he wasn’t interested in me as a person because I wasn’t interested in what he liked to do, and he followed through with that by withdrawing from participation in my various childhood pursuits. He occasionally, though not often, beat me with his hands and objects.

    Nothing I did ever seemed to please him. When I got a job in addition to taking a full suite of university courses in high school (I was the only child of four who did that), he said I didn’t make enough money.

    When I got into the university of my choice (an elite one), he said I should have chosen a secular school, and the one and only time he visited (it wasn’t too far from our house), he said it was “full of crosses.” I cannot remember him ever saying he was proud of me.

    He was rarely affectionate with me, and he was loath to comment on my successes while he frequently reminded me of my failures and, above all, the expense I was costing him. The list of the scars I bear from my relationship with him could go on and on and on.

    So, though I have always had a problem with the phenomenon of people being beatified when they pass away, I feared not responding to his passing with compassion and instead being accosted by negative thoughts and feelings about him during the silence that followed.

    Silence of course invites in the ego, that often very negative voice in the head. I feared feeling and acting like an insensitive, ungrateful person and wondered how I would feel if my own family thought such things about me if I died.

    Like so many times when we face a spiritual test, I surprised myself. Once the initial shock and overwhelming grief I felt passed, I found that my disposition toward him was surprisingly kind.

    First and foremost, I just feel sorry for him—he suffered for a long time and died too young. Beyond that, I feel grateful for having him as a father because I know he did his very best, and I recall that as perhaps the most important lesson he taught me years before: people are always just doing the best they can.

    This lesson is a very difficult pill to swallow. Most everyone knows lying and stealing are wrong, and yet so many people do them anyway. Violence and aggression are among society’s universally believed wrong, and yet our world has way too much of them. In the grip of feeling oppressed or victimized, it’s almost impossible to hold this thought in our head—we’re too logical for that.

    But consider for a moment: That lady in the store knew that hurling invective at the cashier who couldn’t figure out the correct coupon code is impatient, unkind, and probably unreasonable. The guy on the road who cuts people off knows he doesn’t like it when people do that to him, and he knows his actions make a road accident more likely. They do it anyway. How can we even think they’re doing their best?

    One way is to think about it very cleanly: What would you say about someone who knows something to be wrong and yet cannot summon the self-control, patience, compassion, or whatever it may be to stop themselves from doing it?

    In that moment, the person is not conscious enough to refrain from the hurtful action. The person is not connected enough to identify with those his or her actions are harming. Something is holding that person back from showing up fully and achieving his or her full human potential for goodness.

    The maddening fact for those of us who skew to the hyper-logical side of the spectrum is that in 99.9% of cases, you’ll never know what that something is. In fact, no matter how well you know someone, the best you can do in terms of understanding his or her motives, subconscious thoughts and emotions driving behavior is an educated guess.

    However, I knew my dad as well as he allowed anyone to, and I was very familiar with his personal history, so I had a pretty good idea what those somethings holding him back were.

    He grew up in an abusive household, and his dad eventually abandoned his mom and him. He was poor. He lived in a tough inner-city neighborhood and was bullied terribly as a child.

    His mom was a cold and distrustful woman with few if any friends and estranged from almost her entire family. She relentlessly hounded him about his every dollar of expense.

    Not surprisingly, he carried the pain of this upbringing with him throughout his whole life, and he had no example of what good parenting looked like.

    Without that example and with all the wrong lessons and accumulated pain he carried, is it any surprise Dad had difficulty expressing affection?

    Given how little positivity and support he had growing up, how would he have known how to or even that he should have expressed those things to his family? With his mom being estranged from so many people, how could we not expect him as a child to have learned this as a normal state of affairs?

    Indeed, he struggled to improve on key parts of what was lacking in his childhood. He was singularly focused on materially providing for all his children—even after he strongly established his financial security—because he knew what it was like to be without material well-being.

    Though he definitely was abusive to me at times, this was something that was not a normal state of affairs in our household the way it was in his. Thus, the ways in which he was traumatized most reflected in his parenting, in some way for the better and in some for the worse. It must have been difficult for him.

    I can’t say that this realization came easily to me. It took time and distance and only came to me after I had left home for years, during which my time personal hurt gradually faded.

    As my life began to fall into place literally on the other side of the world, I saw from afar all the dysfunction unfolding in my family. Not only did I realize that I should be thankful I was removed from it, but I understood it was the best they could do.

    As an outsider in the family, I had observed the various inter-personal dynamics at work, and I could identify with how powerless and ill-equipped Dad must have felt to deal with all of it.

    This understanding gave me such peace and even empathy, and it freed me from my youthful anger and resentment toward them. Nevertheless, it was only years later when I had my own spiritual awakening that I fully understood the implications, universal applicability, and power of this lesson.

    But the truth is that you’ll never know most people that well, and even if you did, you may never even think you understand the ways in which they’ve been damaged. Some of the most unfortunate people are against all circumstances among the most joyful, while many of the wealthiest and most popular celebrities are miserable and lead tumultuous lives.

    The mind and the ego are capable of creating their own narratives, which their hosts typically completely identify with. We can never fully understand, but that’s just it—people themselves are rarely aware of their reasons for doing what they do and feeling what they feel.

    And there it is: People’s level of consciousness—their awareness of their own feelings and mind (i.e. their ego), as well as those of the people around them—determine how well they can see their own actions and behave with grace.

    Dad had a lot of accumulated pain, which had never been given voice, and he didn’t even realize it to be able to strive for better. What he did realize, for example the insecurity of poverty, he tried mightily and indeed succeeded in improving upon.

    Likewise, when I beat myself up for responding to others’ plight with coldness and distance, I need to remind myself that this was the model I had growing up, and unless an outside observer was really familiar with the dynamics of our family, there’s no way he or she would understand that about me.

    When I feel shame at failing to recognize others’ efforts and accomplishments, I need to remember that’s how I was raised. This was the next step I made after my spiritual awakening—I was able to broaden the whole “they’re doing their best” lesson to myself and others.

    And now the next step—the most challenging one—is to try and remember this each and every day.

    When faced with that lady yelling about the coupons or the guy who just cut you and four other people off as he sped down the highway, in the midst of your indignation, can you take a breath and remember that they’re doing their best?

    How do you know if that lady is maxed out on her credit cards or has a sick husband or just lost her job? Perhaps the angry driver is rushing home to see his sick son or has an anxiety disorder. Whatever the circumstances—and in these cases you’ll never know what those are—that is quite simply the best they can do in that very moment.

    When your coworker takes credit for your work and tries to hide it from you, can you accept that she’s operating from a place of pain or fear and that you will likely never understand what exactly that looks like?

    Knowing that the coworker is still doing his best doesn’t mean you can’t respond appropriately to right the situation, but can you do so from a state of compassion and not anger? If you can summon the empathy to do so, you’ll likely realize how much more effective your response will be.

    So, though it may annoy you to no end, you’ll never know how people process their own past and how that past is expressing itself in the present. In the grip of a terrible situation when you just want to wring someone’s neck, try to remember that. Moreover, when you find yourself remembering, give yourself credit. You may surprise yourself, as I just did with my father’s passing.

    I’m still grieving and will be for some time. The pain and fear my dad felt for so long… it just isn’t fair. He didn’t deserve that, just like I didn’t deserve my lonely childhood.

    None of us deserve what happens to us, right? We’re born innocent, and yet we all suffer through a lot, whether that be physical or emotional—totally in our own heads. Just try to remember that—we’re all in this together.

    Thanks, Dad for teaching me that lesson to live by, and so long.

  • Why No One Wants Unsolicited Advice (and What Actually Helps)

    Why No One Wants Unsolicited Advice (and What Actually Helps)

    “To meet complaint with unrequested council earns for the advisor a fortune of hidden contempt.” ~Greek Proverb

    When people start dumping their complaints and woeful stories on you, how do you respond?

    Do you see it as your golden opportunity to be of help to them?

    Do you make it your mission to put your wealth of knowledge and wisdom to good use by coaching them through their difficulties?

    I mean, isn’t this a great chance to share the extent of your wisdom and understanding, and also be of help to someone in their time of need?

    But the most important question of all is this:

    When you’ve encountered this situation, did they ask you for your assistance before you started advising them?

    When people dumped their complaints on me, there was a time when I took the initiative and voluntarily started counseling them on their problem, even though they never asked me for my guidance.

    I thought I was being helpful.

    But then I made an important breakthrough discovery in maintaining the connections I had with others without accidentally destroying them.

    Let me start at the beginning of my story…

    When someone used to dump their problems on me, I used to think:

    “Oh, they have this problem. I have the answers. I’ll be a good friend or family member and help them solve it, all because I care about them.”

    I remember this one time, a friend of mine was having trouble dating women and he would complain about it to me.

    Guess what I did?

    Did I listen and seek to understand him, where he was coming from, and how he felt about the situation?

    Nope.

    What did I do?

    I started right in on giving him unsolicited advice about how he could get better at dating women.

    I thought I was being helpful.

    But you know what?

    I noticed a very curious thing happening as I did this…

    I observed that his body language and voice tone started showing signs of irritation. I could tell he wasn’t welcoming and responding positively to my advice, even though I knew it was solid, and even though he was verbally agreeing with what I was saying.

    Later, I started to wonder why this was.

    Here he had a problem, I thought. Didn’t he want a solution?

    Surely, he wanted one, right?

    After all, why gripe about something if it’s not going to lead to a constructive outcome that brings about the desired results?

    This investigation led me to question how I reacted when I shared my own problems with people and they responded by giving me unsolicited advice—which, incidentally, only happened for the first time after the incident with my friend and his dating problems.

    Isn’t it funny how we sometimes don’t know that something’s annoying and maybe even condescending until we’ve been on the receiving end of the very same behavior ourselves?

    I find it interesting that we often don’t know that we’re acting in ways that are turn-offs to others until we’ve had someone behave or treat us in the exact same way.

    Isn’t it often only then that we have the epiphany?

    Well, that’s what I learned about giving people unsolicited advice, especially in response to them dumping their problems on me—it’s patronizing and condescending.

    Reacting to people who complain by telling them how they should solve their problems “forcibly” places us in the “superior” role to them. It frames us as the person with the “higher social rank” in the interaction, and lowers the complainer down into an inferior role.

    And who likes to feel inferior to others?

    But what do we think?

    Isn’t it this:

    “Oh, aren’t I being a great friend? I’m helping them out!”

    But is it possible that we’re actually sending them a completely different message from the one we think we are?

    Could it be possible that what they end up hearing is something else?

    And could it also be possible that that message is something offensive and insulting to them?

    Want to know what the recipient of unsolicited advice really hears?

    I’ll warn you…

    It’s not too flattering, and you may be ashamed of yourself to discover the true message behind your actions.

    Between the lines, they hear you saying this to them:

    “I think you’re inadequate and incompetent, and you require my superior knowledge and wisdom to make progress here. Without my help and intervention, you are a helpless victim incapable of dealing with your own problems. You should feel lucky that I’m even putting in my precious time and effort to give you some assistance. Furthermore, I don’t accept you the way you are. I’m making it my mission to change you so that you fit into my ideal of who I think you should be instead of accepting you as you are.”

    Now imagine if someone said that directly to your face.

    How would you feel?

    Probably not very good, right?

    Well, guess what?

    That’s exactly how you’re making people feel when you give them unsolicited advice in response to their complaints.

    So wouldn’t it greatly improve your ability to connect with people and win their esteem if you stopped making them feel this way?

    For what’s more important than earning the love and respect of others?

    Or, would you rather sacrifice their love and respect just so you can have your chance in the spotlight to prop yourself up as a “knowledgeable” and “wise” person?

    And all for what?

    Just to get an ego boost, at someone else’s expense?

    After all, what does it profit us to share our “superior” wisdom and guidance with someone if all it earns us is their contempt?

    And how does that really benefit us and our relationship with that person?

    It doesn’t, does it?

    Now let me ask you this:

    Have you ever asked yourself why people dump their problems on others in the first place?

    What do you think they really want by doing so?

    Do you think they do it because they want a solution to their problem?

    Do you think they do it because they want your help?

    After all, isn’t that what we tell ourselves is the truth of the matter?

    But are those the real reasons?

    After all, if they wanted a solution and some help, wouldn’t they ask us for our feedback, opinions, or advice somewhere in there?

    But do they?

    Well, guess what?

    Almost every time people complain, they’re not doing it because they actually want a solution to their problems. They’re not doing it because they want our help. They’re doing it for another reason altogether.

    And what do they want exactly?

    Simply this:

    To be understood and receive sympathy.

    That’s what they really want.

    And more specifically, what they want is for someone to understand how difficult what they’re going through is for them.

    That’s the response they really want from us.

    Not unsolicited advice.

    Trust me, that’s the last thing they want.

    I mean, are you aware that people secretly hate and resent unsolicited advice, even though they’ll probably never tell us that to our face?

    Instead, they’ll just put on a polite smile while perhaps they secretly fume about it behind their cordial mask.

    I’ve discovered an important lesson in fostering healthy relationships is to stop trying to help people with their problems when they complain about them—unless they specifically ask for it. Instead, I’ve found it much wiser to seek to understand what they’re going through and what they must be feeling.

    Then focus on that.

    What people really want when they complain is to have their feelings not only understood but at the same time validated.

    In short, people simply want affirmation on how much whatever they’re going through sucks and how hard it is.

    If what you want is to connect with people in these types of situations instead of earning their resentment, don’t treat them like they’re a useless person who can’t do anything for themselves with your unrequested guidance.

    Instead, identify the emotion they’re feeling, and then ask them about that.

    Let me give you an example…

    If someone is complaining that a person in their life isn’t giving them enough attention, instead of advising them and giving them tips on how they can get more attention from that person, try to identify what they must be feeling and then ask them about that.

    In this case, you might say:

    “So you’re feeling unloved?”

    Their eyes will probably light up as if you’ve just read their mind, as they exclaim, “Yeah! That’s exactly it!”

    Then you might follow-up with some kind of affirmation and then maybe even tell a very short story that relates to their situation.

    Perhaps you might say:

    “That really sucks, and I think I know what you’re going through. I once had a partner who would only pay me attention when they wanted something from me. I felt like I didn’t really matter to them, like they didn’t really care about me as a person.”

    Why not let people work through their own problems and issues—even if you can see the error of their ways, and even if the solution seems obvious to you.

    Why not respect them and let them figure it out on their own time, on their own terms, and in their own way unless they ask you for help?

    When people dump their complaints and problems on you, if you really care about them, why patronize them with your unsolicited advice?

    Why add fuel to the fire?

    Aren’t they probably already feeling stuck or down enough as it is to have to endure someone’s condescension on top of it?

    So why not try this approach to dealing with others’ complaints?

    I encourage you to test this out the next time you find yourself in a situation where someone is dumping their problems on you.

    Instead of “jumping to their rescue” with your saving grace and advice, seek to discover the emotion they must be feeling.

    Then ask them if that’s how they feel.

    If they confirm your suspicion, affirm how bad that must be, and maybe even share your own short story about the same or similar experience.

    Then I suggest changing the subject at the first opportunity. Maybe even use your story to lead into it—because I wouldn’t advise focusing an entire conversation around how negative something is.

    I believe in nurturing a positive outlook on life, yet at the same time being realistic, honest, and understanding that, yes, life does sometimes suck and it’s wise to accept that rather than living in an illusion where the world is filled with rainbows and lollipops.

    There are, of course, ways of truly helping people with their problems without giving them unsolicited advice, but that’s an article in itself.

    Ultimately, it all comes down to this…

    What would you rather have:

    A strong connection with the people in your life, or the certain knowledge that they harbor hidden feelings of resentment toward you due to your unwanted, condescending advice?

    The choice is yours.

  • How to Move Let Go of the Fear of Judgment and Break the Silence of Shame

    How to Move Let Go of the Fear of Judgment and Break the Silence of Shame

    “If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.” ~Brené Brown

    Every time I think I’ve unloaded most of the pain from my past, something surfaces that tells me I have more work to do.

    A couple of weeks ago, my boyfriend and I were cuddling one morning. I’m not sure what the trigger was, but out of nowhere, my thoughts rolled down a hill and into a painful memory that I must have blocked out.

    Tears rolled down my cheeks as my whole body curled up into the fetal position. He asked me what was wrong and I slowly told him about a sexual trauma I had experienced.

    We are radically honest with one another. Sharing the not so beautiful has deepened our connection. I thought I had shared my darkest secrets that carry shame.

    I was wrong.

    I had minimized and buried this story. Maybe subconsciously, I was afraid he would see this situation as my fault. He absolutely didn’t, and sharing my experience with him made me feel like a heavy burden was lifted.

    This last part rang especially true the following week when the #metoo hashtag went viral. It was during that week of teasing through my feelings and thoughts that I realized just how much confusion shame can create.

    The word shame can evoke such discomfort that we often don’t see how it shows up in our lives.

    If there’s one emotion I see as most prevalent and most hidden in the work I do, it’s shame. Every time I lead a workshop or retreat, there’s a common theme that I witness in nearly everyone. As humans, we all tend to feel in some way that we’re unworthy.

    Yet, the last thing we want to do is acknowledge our shame and vulnerability.

    But if left buried, shame inevitably causes harm to ourselves and our relationships. In my experience, I’ve seen firsthand how understanding and shedding light on shame can hold the key to healing.

    Shame is the emotion that says, “I am bad. I am unworthy.”

    It’s not that we did something bad and feel remorseful. That’s guilt. Guilt says, “I did something bad.” But shame is the internalization of “I am bad.”

    Most of us, even if we had kind, loving parents, grew up feeling a bit like we had to censor our true feelings and experiences. We may have done this to avoid dismay, protect others, or keep the peace in our families.

    We’re conditioned from a young age to feel shame when we learn who we shouldn’t be in the world. But as we get older, we don’t need others to make us feel shame. Shame becomes easily internalized and lives in that voice that says, “It’s dangerous to let others hear my story,” or, “They won’t love me if I share this secret.”

    Who we are becomes fragmented so that we hide the parts of ourselves we want no one to see. We unconsciously employ defense mechanisms. While those defense mechanisms might help us to survive, they’re bound to stand in the way of having healthy relationships and growing a sense of self-love.

    When we’re afraid to share our vulnerable side because we believe it would render us flawed, dirty, weak, and so forth, we’re carrying shame.

    Shame is carried silently and secretly for fear of judgment; yet, it is the self-judgment that grows the longer we conceal our vulnerability.

    I refuse to keep painful secrets festering inside of me, as I know that will only keep me repressed and disempowered in the long run.

    All humans experience shame, and it presents in many ways. Here are a few examples I’ve noticed within myself that maybe you can relate to:

    • Being too sensitive and emotional
    • Not doing enough to “save” my mother from her death
    • Being too selfish to fully want to be a mother myself
    • Feeling I’m not ambitious or smart enough to live up to my potential
    • Struggling to communicate clearly when I have too much in my head
    • Feeling too “needy” with my partner at times
    • Believing I was somehow at fault for the sexual abuses I have experienced

    My personal list could go on… But what I noticed when writing this list is that while many of the original sources of shame might be specific people or society as a whole, the critic is still me.

    When we keep shame locked away inside, we get stuck in feelings of inadequacy. Shame may cause us to feel mentally or physically ill. Feelings of inadequacy can be accompanied by emotions such as anxiety, anger, and loneliness. And when we feel inadequate, we sometimes develop destructive ways of relating to others: avoidance, lying, blaming others, attempts to control others, and so forth.

    So how can we deal with this lurking self-critic that wants to keep our stories in the dark?

    1. Speak kindly to yourself.

    Most likely, at some point you’ve heard the phrase, “Shame on you,” or, “You should be ashamed.” It can easily become habit to talk similarly to ourselves and challenging to learn to speak kindly.

    A simple framework for healing I teach comes from an ancient Hawaiian tradition called H’oponopono. H’oponopono means “to make right,” and it’s rooted in the essence of reconciliation and compassion.

    H’oponopono consists of four phrases: I’m sorry. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you. You can use these phrases speaking to another person. And you can use them with yourself. Here’s a personal example of the latter:

    Melissa, I’m sorry for making you feel the trauma you experienced was your fault.

    Melissa, I forgive you for placing blame on yourself and carrying shame all these years.

    Melissa, thank you for your courage to shine light on your vulnerability and resilience.

    Melissa, I love you and I commit to treating you with lovingkindness.

    2. Self-soothe with movement and massage.

    Think about what happens to your body when you recall a memory that carries shame. Often our bodies slump sinking our heart into the back body. Our gaze drops and our brows furrow.

    Emotions, including shame, reside in the body. Much of what I practice and teach relates to physical ways to release stuck emotion for this reason.

    If we want to reduce the unworthy and unlovable feelings we carry, it can help to self-soothe your body through dynamic movement practices like yoga and dance. Self-massage, tapping, and comforting touch while speaking kindly to yourself can help to release shame.

    3. Share your story.

    The most uncomfortable, but perhaps most effective method I can offer you is to share.

    You don’t have to share your vulnerability with the whole world. Many of my friends shared courageous, deeply personal stories on Facebook in response to #metoo. For a moment, I thought I had to share this way as well, but then I did some reflection.

    There are times I share my vulnerability through my blog or when I hold space for a group. But I don’t always want to share everything with strangers. In those cases, my partner is my greatest witness because of his ability to hold space for me.

    Whether you share in a twelve-step program, with a loved one, or therapist, or in an article for the world to see, there’s immense healing power in this process. When our voices are heard and we’re seen just as we are, we open up the door to growing a new sense of self-love and self-worth.

  • Nothing Is More Important Than Empathy

    Nothing Is More Important Than Empathy

  • 5 Ways to Show Your Love to Others (and Yourself)

    5 Ways to Show Your Love to Others (and Yourself)

    “Love isn’t everything. It’s the only thing.” ~Steven Hayes

    Things go wrong in life. Distress and confusion can take root, sometimes leading to harsh self-criticism, depression, or anxiety.

    We sense that love heals, and it does.

    I once visited an orphanage for abandoned infants, and every toddler who I carried clung tightly to me. I can still feel their little arms clasping me desperately.

    We crave love as we crave oxygen.

    But what is love?

    Is it something you wait for?

    What if love is more than a feeling?

    What if your choices and actions can bring the spirit of love to life?

    Love has many shades and nuances. Here are some forms of love that you can start creating today.

    Love as patience

    I used to be obsessed with outcomes. A perfectionist intolerant of failure, I was constantly trying to prove my worth. This made me unpleasant to others, and to myself.

    One day our little son was running around noisily while I tried to concentrate. Irritated, I put an arm out and he crashed into it. He started crying, and I felt deep shame.

    I resolved to change. I’d been sacrificing what made life worth living: relationships, health, talents, and even family happiness. I’d been neglecting everything and everyone, including myself, in my headlong rush toward outcomes and goals.

    What’s the alternative to focusing on outcomes and neglecting others? Patience. Patience expresses love by treating every individual as priceless, not just an aid or obstacle to some goal.

    Patience embraces more than outcomes. It empowers you to enjoy the journey of life instead of disregarding what makes your life worth living as you rush toward your latest destination. It attracts friends for the journey, improving work, play, and all of life.

    Patience with your own mistakes gives you a chance to heal and learn. Mistakes are not seen as confirmation of worthlessness.

    Importantly, patience allows you to be more fully present in the moment. That’s great for your relationships, your well-being, and your brain, according to scientific research. A more patient life reduces the sense of being overwhelmed or confused.

    Patience brings love to life and makes all aspects of life go better.

    Love as kindness

    When my father fell seriously ill, I needed an airline ticket urgently. He’d been in perfect health and wasn’t very old. I was desperate to reach him quickly.

    I picked up the phone. The first lady I spoke to made it her personal mission to get me there.

    “Get to the airport as quickly as you can,” she said.

    I was put on a plane within hours. I reached his bedside, held his hand, and sang to him softly. He died hours later.

    I’ll never forget that lady’s kindness.

    Even less dramatic acts of kindness can powerfully express love, such as listening to someone who needs a sympathetic ear.

    A swiftly flowing river can have a calm surface, even as it grinds the rough edges off rocks. Kindness is like that. It calmly smooths out the rough patches in life and helps lubricate friction between people.

    In the heat of an argument, kindness can heal with the “soft answer that turns away wrath,” as the proverb reads. Once the temperature is lowered, it’s easier to explore sensible solutions.

    Even if everything goes wrong in life, you can still express kindness to yourself and others. You remain powerful as a source of love. Kindness displaces rudeness, harsh self-criticism, anger, and resentment.

    Cultivate more kindness, to yourself and others, and experience how the darker parts of life become illuminated by love.

    Love as delight in others’ successes

    When I measured success in dollars, I often grew envious of others. Why did someone else have more money, a nicer house, more stuff, better looks, more exotic vacations, a happier family, and healthier parents? I became a restless comparer.

    Once I cultivated a stronger sense of my uniqueness and worth, I started appreciating other people’s success. Each of us was on our unique path, and it would be nice if we all enjoyed the journey.

    Love as delight in others’ successes attracts friends. It breeds joy.

    Long ago, I visited an elderly uncle for my vacation. News arrived that I’d passed a university exam. He bought firecrackers and set them off in celebration, even though he’d never been to university.

    I was embarrassed by the noisy fuss, which alerted the neighbors, but it opened my eyes to how very much he loved me.

    Try developing a stronger sense of your uniqueness and core values, and you’ll more easily celebrate others’ successes. The bitterness of envy will gradually give way to more peace of mind and warmer relationships.

    Love as humility

    I once saw an orchestra and chorus perform Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. It was awesome, with hundreds of musicians performing as one. But the human body has trillions of cells working in harmony.

    It took billions of years and gazillions of molecules for the first human being to emerge. Yet we often have greater awe for the trinkets and baubles that a human being possesses than for the person.

    Instead of being grateful for eyes, liver, brain, and other miracles of biology, we feel entitled to all that and more. A sense of entitlement suppresses our gratitude.

    Further, if I boast about having a bigger house than someone else, then I imply that I’m inferior to someone with an even bigger house. It’s the same for any of my boasts. But the emergence of human beings is so awe-inspiring that appearance, fashion, houses, cars, and other stuff all pale by comparison.

    Boasting can temporarily quell my insecurity, but it still brings me one step nearer to feeling inadequate. It’s as if I’m ashamed of my unadorned self. Boasting also tends to repel others.

    For years, I would gloss over my faults because I felt insecure and needed to maintain a veneer of perfection. Now I’m quicker to admit my faults, seeing myself as a life-long learner. I’m also slower to judge others and quicker to forgive, since we’re all imperfect and still learning.

    Love as humility implies deep respect for the intrinsic worth of every human being. Deep respect for every individual, regardless of their status, helps banish feelings of inadequacy, encourages forgiveness, reduces a feeling of entitlement, and boosts gratitude.

    Humility brings love to life.

    Love as empathy

    We would incubate eggs and hatch tiny chicks at home. Our little daughter adopted one. This chicken would run and jump into her arms.

    Our daughter once tried to feed her chicken some bread. The chicken choked, and died within minutes.

    We comforted her, reminding her that she didn’t knowingly do harm, and that we understood her feelings of grief and guilt. We held a funeral ceremony, lovingly burying the chicken in the garden. Love, as empathizing, can bring comfort to a relationship or home.

    Stepping into the shoes of another is the powerful first step to serving them. This is true of customers too. Love, as empathizing and service, is at the heart of successful businesses.

    I know a middle-aged executive in a tech company who spends most of her time in an office. When asked what she does, she says she helps people to enjoy life more. She’s referring to the software which her company markets.

    Empathy can transform your work. Instead of being just a wage slave, you can express love through empathizing with, and serving, your company’s customers.

    Empathizing brings love to life. Even some otherwise boring chores, at work or at home, can light up with meaning.

    —

    Love isn’t just something that happens to you. You can cultivate love, especially the five forms described above, starting today. In doing so, you’ll open the door to calmer acceptance of yourself, of others, and of life’s inevitable disappointments.

    You’ll also be able to enjoy the journey of life, in the company of friends, with more gratitude and forgiveness.

    Create more love today, and start experiencing the difference.

  • Holiday Love Challenge #9: Empathy Melts Irritation

    Holiday Love Challenge #9: Empathy Melts Irritation

    Holiday Love Challenge #9

    Want more ideas to strengthen your relationships? Get Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges.

  • How to Overcome Emotional Overload When You’re Highly Empathetic

    How to Overcome Emotional Overload When You’re Highly Empathetic

    “When someone throws you a stone, throw back a flower.” ~Gandhi

    “Ouch,” I cried out instinctively as my husband, Barry, and I walked through the beach parking lot, barefoot. It was only when Barry turned to me and asked me why I yelled out that I realized it was him who stubbed his toe, and not me.

    “Because it hurts,” I answered him. He looked at me curiously and said, “But it didn’t hurt you. It hurt me. I’m the one who stubbed my toe.”

    It hadn’t dawned on me that feeling other people’s pain wasn’t a “normal” reaction.

    All my life I have been extremely empathic, but for the first half of my life I didn’t even realize that this was a unique character trait, that not everyone shares.

    When I was in close contact with people who were yelling, I would literally shake. When those around me were sad or scared, I would drink in those feelings like a sponge, not realizing that these feelings weren’t my own.

    As a result, I felt on edge a lot of the time, as I was carrying not only my own feelings but also the emotions of many people around me. However, I was not in touch with this anxiety—I didn’t even know it was there. It was unconscious.

    Because I was empathic, I was often sympathetic to the plights and concerns of friends and family.

    Even as a child, people turned to me for guidance in resolving their problems. At the time, I didn’t mind because I was happy to offer whatever support I could.

    However, as I entered my teen years, the burden of other people’s emotions, on top of my own unresolved feelings, became too heavy to bear. But I didn’t know that consciously. I wasn’t even aware of what was happening for me.

    I turned to food, alcohol, and other substances to numb the intensity of what I felt.

    I felt a strong need to withdraw and I could no longer be in the same room or the same house with people who carried intense, often unconscious, emotions.

    I had to learn ways to manage the emotional energy—both my own feelings as well as the energy of others—that I was absorbing.

    This was a major key for me in breaking free from food and all other addiction. There were many bumps along the road as I learned to do this. Over time, I discovered four powerful ways to help manage emotional energy.

    1. Practice awareness.

    I noticed that if I wasn’t aware of what I was feeling, either in response to an internal shift, such as a hormonal or mood change, or a reaction to another person’s strong emotion, I was much more likely to be reactive and act out in a way that wouldn’t feel good to me.

    With awareness, I could consciously choose a response and an action that I could feel good about.

    2. Understand the nature of energy.

    A big key to healing for me has been the understanding that my response to my environment also feeds the energy. Therefore, if someone throws me a stone and I throw another stone back, or worse, a rock, I am going to exacerbate the problem.

    Not only will I add fuel to the fire and cause pain for the other, but I will be increasing my own suffering. Energy feeds on energy.

    If my daughter comes home from a long day at school expressing negativity, if I feed on that, consciously or unconsciously, by being in any way critical, negative, or judgmental myself, I will only increase the dark energy that is now in the kitchen.

    Instead, if I can give her love and sweetness, most likely that will be healing to her and the energy will shift to something that’s supportive and healing for both of us. That’s because love is all the soul seeks and when we can come back to a loving place, everything else in life becomes manageable.

    When we drift from a place of love, kindness, wholeness, and forgiveness, we feel “out of sorts” and often express bad energy (anger, fear, complaining, etc.).

    3. Don’t take anything personally.

    One of the main reasons I came to see that I absorbed and hung on to other people’s dramas and intense energies is because I bought into their suffering at some level. But over time I realized that nothing means what I think it does.

    I don’t have to force open the caterpillar’s cocoon to help it become a butterfly. I realized that the same power within me that has turned every difficulty and challenge I have faced into an ultimate lesson and blessing is in everyone else, too.

    I have learned to trust that other people, even those I love the most, need to learn life’s lessons through their own experiences and insights.

    I’m not responsible for fixing the energy or the situation. My only responsibility was and is how am I managing my own energy: am I adding goodness, love, and warmth to the space and people around me, or am I contributing to the creation of a frenetic and fearful environment?

    4. Balance yourself.

    The key to staying balanced for me is to continuously stay connected to my heart—my deeper, spiritual self—and when I stray from there by getting caught up in the voices in my head or the drama unfolding around me, to know the short-cut back to center.

    For me, the most powerful way to do this is with a form of meditation that I call self-hypnosis.

    This method helped me to heal so many aspects of my life, including my health, which had deteriorated at a young age, my weight, and food addiction issues as well as my relationships. Any type of meditation—and even just a few minutes of deep breathing—can help us center ourselves.

    Being empathic and super sensitive to energy is not something that I can just decide to change, but I can become more aware of how it affects me.

    The empowering thing is the realization that I can change my reactions and my own behaviors, no matter how overwhelming the emotions, my own and others’, feel to me, in the moment.

    Because 90% of the behaviors we do are habitual—meaning we are only doing them because we did them yesterday—we can literally re-train the brain to respond in a new way to the exact same stimuli.

    I used to think my only two choices were to react to negative energy with negativity or to withdraw and detach. Neither option was conducive to building strong, supportive relationships or to my own happiness.

    I now know that when someone throws me a stone, I can throw back a flower (as a wise spiritual teacher once recommended), and I can feel great about it!

    I wouldn’t change my empathic nature even if I could because, on a positive note, it has helped me to understand people and open my heart to them—to realize that we are all on the same human journey together, seeking compassion and love, even if we’re not going about it in the most effective way.

    Every cloud has a silver lining, and the blessing of empathy and feeling emotions strongly is the opportunity to connect to our deepest strength and transmit something greater that can bring healing to our self and others.

  • How to Share Your Feelings and Be Heard

    How to Share Your Feelings and Be Heard

    Conversation

    “The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Not so long ago, a dear friend of mine approached me wishing to be heard for some overwhelming grief and anger she was carrying.

    I gave her my full ear and attention, but as I listened to her, I noticed a worry begin to stir inside me—a worry surfacing around a great deal of violent intent I heard in her words. Could she really want to hurt someone I believed she loved?

    After another twenty minutes of listening, I decided to authentically voice my worry to her until I felt fully heard around it, and together that evening we came to a place of deeper understanding and care.

    You may be thinking, “Wow! Your friend sure took it well despite being so angry. You must have been pretty careful in how you worded it, though.”

    But what if I told you that I managed to voice my truth without stimulating further anger or a sense of disconnect in her precisely because I did not try to be careful about what I said?

    Most of us, in first learning greater compassion and becoming aware of our needs and inherent worth, are not unlikely to come off sometimes as careless in how we express ourselves to others. We’re finally finding our voice, after all, and in standing up for our precious needs, such “carelessness” is no too high a price to pay for it.

    Our desire for authenticity at this stage outweighs our tact, you might say.

    As we become more adept to compassion over time, however, our awareness extends and reinforces the importance of other people’s needs, as well as our own. And thus, another phenomenon occurs: We transition from being careless to being careful compassionate speakers.

    But therein lies a tragedy.

    For while we may have genuine intentions to recognize others’ needs and feelings—knowing that our feelings and needs are not the only ones in the room—exercising careful consideration of our words in that respect can easily pose a whole new barrier to our ability to authentically communicate with others.

    We can end up, as they say, throwing out the baby with the bathwater.

    How does this happen? How do we regain the fuller authenticity we finally became able to express without seeming careless to otherswith our words?

    Well, first, it happens for the simple reason that withholding the honesty of our experience from others in a careful way too often tends to stem from a fear of the consequences (that might either befall us or bring further pain to someone else) in voicing ourselves.

    So what other resort do we have?

    What I’m recommending here is neither the obnoxiousness of careless honesty, nor the caution of careful consideration at the expense of sharing our whole truth, but the mindful awareness of everyone’s needs and the potential effect of our words—a mindfulness that incorporates the best parts of the former two.

    Returning to the case of my friend, I took my time to be sure that there was a deep sense of connection between the two of us, and a ground of empathy around her pain for me to stand on, before I expressed my concern around her intentions—holding nothing back.

    But before even expressing that concern, I conveyed to her what makes the crucial practical difference in what I’m talking about: the depth of my care for her, and the worry I felt in how she could potentially receive my words in a way other than as caring.

    You see, through mindful awareness, all needs—both yours and mine—can be given full consideration while one of us expresses their two-fold truth.

    It’s two-fold because we’re not only sharing the truth of our pain or problem, but also the care that we feel for the other person around how hearing our concern could land in them. When I told the friend my concern, I honestly expressed the worry rather than making the decision to speak honestly or not based on the worry.

    Let me give you four basic steps for compassionately sharing that, for me, allow for the fullness of our painful truth while also speaking to the fullness of our care:

    1. Be sure you’ve self-empathized before sharing.

    Sharing either our pain or our care without being in a place of empathic understanding could indeed result in “careless” self-expression. Sometimes such clarity doesn’t come easily, but if you can practice waiting for it before committing to expressing yourself, you’re way ahead of the gang.

    2. Be sure as well that you’ve empathized and connected with the other person.

    This is as much for our sake as theirs. If I listen to someone but then choose to share my truth while still holding a grudge or judgment against them, then it may be the case that I don’t actually care that much how it lands in them at this time. It could save you loads of unintended ordeals to realize this now than later.

    That said, I also highly recommend not empathizing with someone for the purpose of getting heard for your truth. “Empathy with an agenda” isn’t really empathy, nor does it effectively open us up to a space of acceptance and true listening around what’s happening for either of us.

    3. Share the truth of your care.

    By letting someone know you have something important to share and that you really care how it will be received, you give yourself an amazing opportunity for vulnerability to open between you. It will also quickly tell you whether the other person is even in a place to hear you or not.

    Knowing that allows you the choice and power to decide to maybe empathize with them more before sharing, or to process together what could be making it difficult for them to really hear you.

    4. Share the truth of your pain or problem, fully and authentically.

    Having conveyed your care to someone, you now have the opportunity to deepen into even greater vulnerability—and deeper sharing of your experience—thanks to the more open understanding facilitated by the depth of the care you expressed.

    To be sure, none of this guarantees that your truth won’t be difficult to hear.

    However, you do stand a far greater chance of being heard and held. I myself discovered that sharing in this way offers an amazing gift to those I love, as my willingness to be vulnerable also expresses to them the extent of my trust in them to receive it, whether either of us handle the dialogue gracefully or not.

    Compassion-based speaking and listening, done skillfully over time, has cultivated greater intimacy and deeper care with those dearest to me. At the end of the day, the degree of love and intimacy between you can only stand to be increased with the ability to authentically share your experiences with mindful awareness and care.

    So rather than be careful, why not be “care-full”? Let mindfully aware communication be your guide, and watch the natural love and connection grow!

    Photo by Garry Knight

  • How Pain from the Past Can Be a Gift in the Present

    How Pain from the Past Can Be a Gift in the Present

    “When something bad happens you have three choices. You can let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you.” ~Unknown

    Don’t hate your past. No matter what it contained or what it did to you, the past shapes who you are, not just for the things you felt damaged you but for the lessons you can take from it.

    I love working with the people I call the world shakers. They’re the people who want to make a difference in the world so that they leave it in a slightly better way than they found it.

    I love these types of people because they’re so driven by their heart and passion for others. They’re kind. They value people.

    You know what else these people have in common? They have empathy for others and a desire to make the world a better place. Not in a showy, “give me the Nobel Peace Prize” kind of way (although a bit more showy-ness wouldn’t go amiss!) but in a gentle, modest way.

    Do you know what really amazes and inspires me about world shakers? They’ve had their own hurts, challenges, and heartbreaks but instead of letting those things harden them and make them brittle, they’ve allowed themselves to stay open and vulnerable.

    They’ve taken those things that have wounded, battered, and pierced them and transformed the experiences into fierce empathy for others.

    They can’t walk past the person who’s struggling because they know how it feels to struggle. They have a way of recognizing the human condition in all of us.

    They turn it outward and use it as a learning experience, one that enhances their ability to empathize and drives their conviction to change things for others.

    It could be the mother who refuses to pass on the cycle of abuse she experienced to her own kids, or the teacher who bans the world “stupid” from her classroom because she can remember how much it crippled her to hear it as a child.

    It could be the man who gives coffee to the homeless guy every day because he can knows what it’s like to feel like no one cares about you, or the recovering addict who works with troubled teens to try and save them the pain of his experiences.

    World shaking is often driven by a need to make things better because of the pain we’ve suffered ourselves. 

    Still, I still have to catch myself when I bemoan the things that have happened to me over the years. Like everyone, I’ve had my share of unpleasant, difficult, and down right heart breaking experiences.

    For the longest time I was angry at the world because I’d experienced them. I hated the mistakes I made. I berated myself for my screw-ups and stupid choices. I felt defined by them—embarrassed and soiled—like I should be wearing a T-Shirt with the words “Damaged Goods” on it.

    One day, a very wise person said these words to me:

    Everything that has ever happened to you is the perfect preparation for the person you’re destined to become.

    And everything flipped.

    Those things that I had regretted so much had shaped me. What’s more, I had a choice in it. I had inadvertently used those things that had happened to me as things that drove me forward. Many of the things I’d become interested in, my passions, and my values were driven by those very experiences.

    I’m a passionate advocate for reducing the stigma associated with mental health issues, and I started my whole journey of learning about personal development and emotional resilience because of my own battles with stress-related illness.

    I help people find joy, passion, and a sense of purpose at work and that’s undoubtedly because I spent so many years in jobs that didn’t suit or that where I didn’t feel I was making a difference.

    I’ve also struggled in jobs that really did suit me because I didn’t know how to handle the stresses and challenges our work can bring. I didn’t understand the importance of asking for help, having strong support networks, actively managing stress, and making sure I wasn’t mentally giving myself a hard time too often.

    Having to take a break due to burn out and stress felt horrible at the time it happened to me. But during that time out I studied, trained, and read—a lot!

    I realized that resilience is a practice, not some innate skill that you either have or you don’t. I learned how to develop my own resilience and that made me immensely driven to help others do it, too.

    My dark times also forged my sense of empathy, a key skill I bring to my work. If I’d had the “charmed” life I’d originally wanted, would this have been the case? Somehow I doubt it.

    All of the lessons I’ve learned led to wisdom that can only be gained through experiencing life’s ups and downs.

    Hard lessons learned are deep lessons. They shape us. Most of us are familiar with the term post-traumatic stress, but did you know there is also a phenomenon called post-traumatic growth?

    It’s the ability to grow through adversity—to come out the other end stronger, clearer, and with a renewed zest for life.

    I think that’s what many of us fail to recognize in ourselves, that those dark times, far from diminishing us, can give us the most profound of gifts—the gift of recognizing human life in all its messy, painful, courageous glory.

    We can take those gifts and use them to be a beacon to others to say, “It’s okay. I’ve been there. This too will pass.”

    And that surely is a real gift worth giving.

  • Why Empathy Can Sometimes Help More Than Advice

    Why Empathy Can Sometimes Help More Than Advice

    Hug

    “I have just three things to teach simplicity patience compassion these three are your greatest treasures.” ~Lao Tzu

    I have two teenagers. Anyone with children knows these years can bring their challenges. One minute they behave like a four year old and the next they are as mature as an adult. These fluctuations can pose difficult times.

    One day, after a particularly emotional and tough interaction with my son, I called my mother for advice. She had by all accounts raised three successful sons.

    After a long and detailed discussion of what had happened, she said, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. It’s so hard.”

    That was it, not a single word of advice—just some empathy. I pictured her on her old fashioned phone with the rotary dial and the wires just making a simple statement. I was frustrated. I wanted advice; I wanted some magical activity or action plan that I could use to make it better.

    In my opinion this interaction with my mom was useless.

    Feeling frustrated, I called a very dear friend who has two teenage children and whose mother is a PHD psychiatrist. With children the same age, we had been sharing child-rearing stories for many years.

    I figured with that level of education his mother must have some advice. I gave him a short synopsis of the story and asked if he thought his mother could provide some any advice. “Oh yeah…” he responded, in a way that I knew there was a story to follow.

    He told me that a couple of weeks earlier he had been working on a project in London that required working sixteen hour days. Exhausted from both the hard work and plane ride home, he landed in the US after a long flight home.

    When he landed he turned on his phone and saw an email from his mother. Delighted to hear from her, since he had not corresponded with in a while, he read the email immediately.

    The email was very a long description of her concern for him. While the email was articulate and detailed, it was full of detailed changes of he “should” make for both his children and his family.

    He interpreted the message from his mom as criticism that he was not doing what he should, and his own mother was telling him he needed to change. Before deleting the email he responded to his mother, “Please don’t send any more emails like this.” 

    Even as he retold the story I could hear how much the email had hurt his feelings.

    My dear friend is thoughtful, articulate, kind, hardworking, good looking, and brilliant. My own wife often says that she wishes I were more like him. In short, he’s a great dad and a wonderful husband.

    Advice Is Not Always What We Need

    After hearing this story, I realized there wasn’t anything my mother could say that was going to help me in my situation with my son. Advice from her about what I “should” do differently was going to feel like criticism or be impossible to act on.

    I had created my own problems and could create my own solutions like most of us can. Often times we simply lack the confidence or the self-respect to make the necessary changes.

    Even though I did not know it at the time my mother’s simple empathy and acknowledgement of the difficult situation was the thing I needed.

    I wanted a magical solution, but it didn’t exist. Her empathy and acknowledgement of the challenge was all I needed. Like most advice, we seldom know we need it when we receive it. If it’s truly useful we absorb it and use it without thinking about it.

    Today when I have problems with my teenagers, I hear her voice telling me, “Oh honey. It’s so hard.” Sometimes it is, and that’s okay.

    How to Remember

    Remember, when someone calls for personal advice the most valuable thing we can do is acknowledge the situation without judgment and remind them that we care deeply. My mother does it with a Bostonian’s paucity of words. Most of us need to say more.

    In an effort to remind myself of this lesson, I have created a simple picture of the old fashion telephone my mother used until very recently. I post the picture in my workspace where I receive the majority of my calls.

    It’s there to remind me that most people do not want the instructions on “what to” or “how to” fix their problems, but rather to be reminded we care, are willing to listen and understand that sometimes life’s problems are not easy to solve.

    Photo by Anant Rohankar

  • Motivate Yourself Without Pushing Yourself: Tips for Self-Compassion

    Motivate Yourself Without Pushing Yourself: Tips for Self-Compassion

    Happy

    “Our sorrows and wounds are only healed when we touch them with compassion.” ~Buddha

    I have always struggled with self-compassion. In fact, I’m not even sure I have been aware of it all that much throughout my life.

    I’ve always thought the only way to truly grow was to push myself, both physically and mentally, so without even realizing it, I set myself up for that.

    I would not study for my university exams until the night before. I would take it easy and not make enough money until it got to the stage that I had to almost create a miracle to pay my next credit card bill. I would push my partner until our relationship was at a breaking point so I could then save it.

    It was almost like I wanted to prove to myself that I was a hero in someway. As I reflect back now, it was so strange what I was doing, but the truth was I was not even aware I was doing it.

    Over the past few years I could see my patterns more and more. It shocked me that I would be that unconscious of my motivations.

    But as I dived into it, I could see that I actually had a fear that I’d somehow be less if I took that pressure off myself. It was the pressure that was keeping me motivated and more importantly keeping me growing.

    I wondered if I had to continue like that. What would happen if I let it go? Would I stop being as great as I could be?

    Then I became aware of self-compassion. It was a foreign concept to me, and one I remember fighting against for some time. My ego did not want to just give in that easy!

    At first I felt that I would become more self centered, and that was big no-no—after all, aren’t we all here to serve others, not ourselves?

    But then I started see what my lack of self-compassion was really doing to me. It was, in fact, the very thing that was isolating me from the world and making me self-centered.

    I was so caught up in my own struggles and issues that I had begun to feel that I was the only one on the planet going through what I was.

    I had forgotten that all my friends were feeling the same way as me; they too were struggling in life, and I had not seen it. My issues were not greater than everyone else’s, after all.

    As I saw this more clearly I felt myself soften to compassion for myself, and those around me. I started to “feel” compassion for the first time.

    I recall pondering one day, how I would feel in a relationship if I treated my partner or child in the same way I had been treating myself? Would I really be that motivated to keep going each day?

    The never-ending berating and judgments, constantly trying to fix, change, or improve myself, never being enough. How motivated can you stay under such conditions?

    I would have never expected anyone to respond positively to this, but yet I expected myself to. Something was very wrong with my perception of myself.

    It was at that moment that my belief structure started to collapse on itself, and I realized that I did not have to be that hard on myself for motivation. I could actually be kind and it would have an even greater effect.

    Bit by bit, I felt self-acceptance, and a love came over me like waves, like it had been wanting to come through for so many years, but I had blocked it.

    All I had been looking for was sweeping over me in one giant gush. It felt amazing and it felt true. I knew that I’m okay the way I am.

    I suddenly felt a common bond with humanity again. Like we are all perfect in our imperfect way, and that is actually what it’s meant to be like.

    I realized that I do not have to get everything right everytime. I do not have to be changed or improved; I just need to accept who I am right now.

    The pain and sorrow I had been feeling my whole life rose up, and I could clearly see what I had done to myself for decades. I was sorry for this, so very sorry.

    I broke down and cried and cried. I had been so mean to myself. The pain and struggles of the last few decades came pouring out of me like the dam gates had been opened.

    I felt relief for the first time. I could not do this any longer; there was simply no need. I had done nothing wrong by just being me.

    This was one of the most significant moments in my life—the acceptance of myself through self-compassion.

    My tips to create more self-compassion include:

    1. Be aware if you are being hard on yourself and recognize where this shows up for you.

    It can be subtle. Look at all life areas, including your health, finances, and relationships, at work and in your family.

    2. Challenge your beliefs and fears. 

    Do you have a belief that if you are gentle with yourself you will somehow not be motivated enough or not all you can be? Recognize that this doesn’t have to be true. Also, notice if you feel that being compassionate toward yourself will lead you to feel self-indulgent or selfish.

    3. Treat yourself kindly, without judgment.

    Picture your best friend and how you treat them. Now apply this same love and kindness to yourself. You should be your own best friend after all!

    4. Be mindful of when you slip out of compassion and start to treat yourself harshly again.

    Forgive yourself and understand that you are human and this is part of the human game.

    5. Feel the pain of others around you.

    Listen to their stories and feel what it must be like to be them. This will make you automatically feel compassion and be softer on yourself as you connect with their common humanity.

    We all have issues and problems that cause us pain, but suffering through them is optional. Self-compassion provides another option.

    Photo by JFXie

  • The Gifts of Empathy: We’re Not Alone with What We’re Feeling

    The Gifts of Empathy: We’re Not Alone with What We’re Feeling

    Hugging

    “In separateness lies the world’s great misery, in compassion lies the world’s true strength.” ~Buddha

    When asked why I write fiction, I used to say, “Because I enjoy writing and revising sentences” or “Because I like practicing an art I’ll never perfect” or “Because I love to read.” All those reasons remain true, but my answer has changed.

    The most important reason I write stories, and read them, is to practice empathy.

    Strange how we often feel empathy more easily for fictional characters than for real people. One reason is that sometimes we get to know fictional characters more deeply than our family members and friends.

    Too often in real life we keep aspects of our true selves hidden and miss an important opportunity to connect with other human beings.

    How many times has this happened to you? You run into a friend, sometimes a close friend, who says, “How are you doing?” and you say, “Good! How are you?” and the friend says, “Good!” Meanwhile, you’re not doing well at all, and later you discover that your friend hadn’t been doing well.

    Recently, I tried something different. When a friend asked how I was, I told him the truth—that I’d had a difficult week.

    He said, “I’m sorry to hear that. I know a few other people who had a rough week.” He waited to see if I wanted to share more, but didn’t prod. Then he said, “Hey, I hope you have a better week next week.” I could tell that he meant it, and that made me feel a little better, a little less alone.

    I’m not suggesting that we all become confessional and reveal our secret struggles, fears, and pains with everyone we meet. But I am suggesting that you don’t have to feel alone. When you take a chance and share a hidden part of yourself with someone, it’s amazing how often people respond with, “Me too.”

    Here is the most important thing to remember: Whatever you’re feeling, someone else has felt it. Whatever you’re going through, someone else has gone through it. You may feel alone, especially if what you’re experiencing is very frightening or painful, but you are never alone.

    I was having dinner with a close friend the other night, sharing with him about a difficult time in my life, the most difficult, when I had hurt someone I love very much. (more…)

  • We Belong When We Connect with Each Other

    We Belong When We Connect with Each Other

    “When you live on a round planet, there’s no choosing sides.” ~Wayne Dyer 

    Te holiday season is a time to connect with others, to celebrate our common humanity, even if the holidays we celebrate are different.

    Instead sadly people all over the world are still taking sides. They seek to identify with one “side” or another (tribe, culture, religion, politics, nationality). They seek to belong by being distinct from others.

    They seek to belong by hating the other side, sometimes by killing the other side.

    But finding identity in reinforcing our differences will never give us a true sense of belonging, a real sense of connection. We are already connected; we are already one. We are all just individual expressions of the same universal energy.

    We need to work out how to stay united—connected in our diversity, rather than divided by our differences.

    When my husband and I were suffering infertility (infertility is still there, we just choose not to suffer anymore), I desperately wanted to belong to the Mother’s club.

    But instead of reaching out to friends and colleagues who were mothers (every woman around me, it seemed) I chose to disconnect. I let my insane jealousy drive a wedge in friendships, and my mom friends walked on eggshells around me.

    As I put distance between us, it was easy for them to drift away.

    We embarked on a long and arduous (and ultimately unsuccessful) IVF journey, and I remember walking out of our first information session feeling like I was already branded—infertile, guilty as charged.

    I stared into the faces of the other couples in the room, but I chose not to see them. I didn’t want to identify with them. I didn’t want to join the IVF patients club.

    So we became patients, but didn’t seek connection with other couples. We didn’t offer them compassion, nor seek solace in our own struggles. And running away from the shared sense of consolation we might have had only left us alone.  (more…)