Tiny Buddha

Tag: enjoy

  • The Beautiful Gift of Finding Presence in The Ordinary

    The Beautiful Gift of Finding Presence in The Ordinary

     

    “For a long time, it had seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last, it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.”~Alfred D. Souza

    I recently came across an old photo album from when I was in my twenties. All these snippets of my life back then—going out clubbing, those harsh Canadian winters, walking in the back field with my dog, hanging out at my uni campus, watching live music at my favorite outdoor festival. I remember it all so well.

    It felt like that time of my life would never end. It just went on forever. I remember how I was always craving something bigger and better than little old Ottawa. Wasn’t life meant to be cooler and more exciting?

    Everyone told me my twenties would be the best years of my life. I felt so much pressure to live up to these expectations. And now here I am, staring at these photos with years of perspective.

    I’ve lived in two different countries since then and traveled to countless more. I’ve married and had two kids. Now it’s all just a memory, contained neatly inside a heavy photo album. It reminds me of this quote above and how, in those days, I was always waiting for something. That one thing to make life exciting. But that was it—life was happening, even in the waiting.

    It reminds me of where I am now. Deep in the trenches of motherhood and so incredibly sleep-deprived. I feel waves of guilt that I’m not enjoying every minute of it. Everyone tells me I must; it ends all too soon. Social media blares: Enjoy every minute! You only have X more summers left before your kids move out!

    I can already see myself many years from now, looking at photos from this moment. These days right now that pass like thick mud. When my baby learns to clap her hands, and sit up without support, and crawl around to locate every last crumb on the floor.

    The days when my toddler is piecing together the words to express how she feels more and more. Every day, something new.

    The days when a shower is a luxury. When I wake up feeling jet-lagged, like I’m on a perpetual flight, without ever arriving anywhere.

    The days when I’ve gone beyond my limit again. And again. These days when I find myself falling into this trap of wishing things were a bit easier, and then I could really enjoy myself.

    Then I remember that this is normal. It’s normal to yearn for things to be different when they feel hard. It’s normal to compare. It’s normal to feel so much in this highly saturated digital and addictive world.

    Not every day is amazing. Not for any human on this earth. Despite what social media shows us. Perhaps instead of being told we need to enjoy every minute of motherhood or our youth or whatever it is, maybe we should instead tell each other to be present as often as we can. To be a full participant in our lives. Whether it’s good or bad, or annoying or underwhelming, or not quite reaching our expectations in some way.

    Perhaps it’s better to make it a practice to show up and be fully engrossed in that moment. To practice accepting that this is your life right now. Even if just for a moment.

    I say practice because I don’t think it’s possible to be completely present all the time. Naturally, there will be times when we search for our phones in need of mindless distraction. Naturally, on tough days, we will long for weekends, or vacations, or some escape from the mundanity. In these moments, it’s just as important to practice forgiveness for not always enjoying everything. For being human.

    It’s important to remind ourselves from time to time of the blatant obviousness that there is no destination. That the only destination we’re heading toward is our death. Or old age, if we’re so lucky.

    For most of us, life is a series of ordinary moments strung together. The more time we spend chasing the extraordinary, the more we miss what’s in front of us.

    So, here’s your reminder to stop waiting for something to happen for you to enjoy your life. Wherever you may be on your journey, may you show up wholeheartedly.

  • 3 Simple Steps to Create More Joy in Your Life

    3 Simple Steps to Create More Joy in Your Life

    “Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” ~Carl Jung

    “Should I move back?” was the question I asked myself. It was 2018, and I had moved to Berlin eight months prior. And everything had gone wrong. So wrong.

    I moved here for a relationship, but that relationship ended. I also moved for different work but found myself in a toxic environment. I had very little support from the community after my relationship ended. And I found myself horribly ill and in a hospital.

    The easy thing to do would have been to move back to London. It was still a huge move, but I would be back with my friends and support network.

    But something stopped me.

    Something was going on inside me that told me I would not be any happier if I moved back.

    That moving back would be a massive distraction from what was happening inside me. It would allow me to ignore that—to push it aside. And then, hopefully, in London, I would be too distracted to need to deal with it.

    I had no idea how transformative that decision would be.

    What was going on inside me?

    I had come to the realization that I had moved to Berlin to try to escape from who I was. That I was trying to choose only part of myself rather than all of myself, and I was doing this by trying to have a relationship with someone.

    But, in actual fact, I was bored. Bored in my life. Bored in a successful career as an international executive—a career I had no interest or passion for anymore.

    I decided it was time to figure out who I was. Not just part of me, not just some of me. But all of me.

    But I had no idea how to do this. I was drifting about in the dark. Then I realized that was part of the problem—I was trying to break through this veil of darkness to understand who I wanted to be.

    Imagine a Strange World

    I want you to imagine you are in a strange new world full of mountains, valleys, deserts, seas, and oceans. And this world is completely dark other than a light you hold in your hand.

    No matter what you do, no matter how far you try to raise the light, you still cannot see into the darkness.

    Instead, all you can see is within the circle of light.

    This World Is You

    This strange new world is actually you, the lands and oceans making up all your joys, passions, grief, sadness, and much more.

    But for many of us, our identity, who we are, and what gives us joy are unknown lands in the darkness.

    When it comes to wanting to understand who we are, we realize that, although we inhabit our body, many of its thoughts and emotions are a strange new world to be explored.

    And this is uncomfortable. If we are not distracting ourselves from the darkness, we’re spending all our efforts trying to pierce the veil of darkness. But trying to look further does not work.

    So what can we do?

    Look at what is within that circle of light. There is so much to learn, explore, and understand within this circle, even though so many of us discount it.

    Do we see a lump of rock and walk over to see how interesting it is? We then see something else and walk toward that, and then another and another thing. Without realizing it, we are walking through the darkness step by step, focusing on what we can see. And in doing so, we are exploring our hidden world.

    What does this mean in practice?

    1. Be mindful of the now, no matter how bad it seems.

    In Berlin, when I was choosing to leave or stay, I was working for a toxic company with everyone constantly angry or bursting into tears in front of me and one person trying to set me up for failure. It was a horrible time.

    But within that horror, there was some gold.

    As I became more mindful, I realized there was one thing I enjoyed during the workday: speaking with someone one-on-one. I loved helping and supporting people in private chats, especially those who wanted to grow and improve.

    I was amazed by this revelation. How could I be feeling joy within all this toxicity? But now I know that a fundamental part of me loves connecting with and serving people, which is why I am on this planet. This was the first signal or seed of my purpose.

    Ignoring what we hate is easy, but gold can often be hidden there. Be mindful of those times as well as the good. The thing you really need might be hidden in those awful periods.

    Outside of work, I realized I could use my beautiful balcony, but I was not using it, as I was too distracted by everything going wrong (and did not have any chairs).

    Berlin is so beautiful in the summer, and even though this year had brought non-stop rain, it was temperate enough to sit outside, sheltered from the rain, and enjoy the humid, rich smell of the garden air.

    One night, I was treated to a drunk neighbor so happy they were singing in the rain. And it was so joyful to hear them do that.

    But I was not doing it. I was too distracted. So I bought myself a chair and found myself meditating and thinking while sitting out in the summer rain of Berlin.

    Years later, I realized that many of the seeds of my current life were planted on that balcony.

    During this time, I stopped and allowed myself just to be. Providing myself with this time allowed me to start understanding myself.

    And when I was bored on the balcony, I meditated or watched TED videos that inspired me.

    2. Reconnect to joy from the past.

    We live in societies where we are pressured to focus only on our career, taking on more responsibility and making more money so we can use that money to buy the latest thing, be it the newest iPhone or some new fad on Instagram or TikTok.

    But this is not joy.

    Joy is such a short-lived emotion. We only feel it when carrying out an activity that gives us joy; if we are too distracted, we can miss it.

    When we start to focus on a career or material possessions, we can end up disconnected from joy. So we must find that joy again.

    Part of this can happen in step one—being mindful of the now and noticing when we feel that joy. But we can also mine for joy.

    The first way of doing this is to think back to when you were a child and teenager. What did you enjoy then? Do you do any of this now? Or did you give it up because you felt too busy or ashamed?

    I used to love Legos and Star Trek but was often shamed by family and friends for liking them. Then, as an adult, I thought only children play with Legos, so I gave it up. Now, I buy myself Lego sets and enjoy putting them together.

    But we can also reframe what we like in childhood into adult traits and actions.

    I used to love writing stories when I was young. Knowing I loved writing then, I realized I could decide to write now, but differently.

    Now I write for joy, but rather than stories, I often write articles explaining concepts and helping people.

    Reconnecting to joy from the past also helps us to rediscover parts of ourselves that were always there.

    Many people believe they are not creative, but when they rediscover their joy from when they were young, they discover they were hugely creative.

    3. Throw things at the wall.

    The final thing is to try random things. To do random things. To see how much you enjoy it or where it leads you.

    I discovered that a center around the corner from me was holding a workshop for a spirit journey. I had never done anything like that before. I thought it was something that happens in the rainforests of the Amazon, not around the corner from where I live in Berlin.

    But I thought: Why not try it?

    I had a fantastic time doing it, and it led me to more mainstream events at the center, from potluck dinners to events for finding your purpose. It also helped me create my own social network here in Berlin.

    So try random things you’ve always wanted to try and note which things you hate and love; they will help you discover what you want and who you are.

    What Did I End Up Doing?

    The year 2017 was really hard for me. I felt pushed to my limits.

    But making that decision to stay and work toward understanding who I was—understanding that dark, hidden world—is one of the best decisions I ever made.

    It led me to discovering my passions and the sort of life I wanted to live.

    I have given up a six-figure salary to focus on various passions. I just returned from a “workcation” in the sun (avoiding the bleak Berlin winter), and I no longer have that sense of dread I had each day.

    There is still much for me to do. Making these changes has led me to find even more parts of myself.

    Although these new parts of my world are still to be explored, I have found impressive mountains to rest upon and amazing oceans to sail on within me, and my life is so much more fulfilling because of it.

    How about you? Do you want to start exploring who you are, your hidden world? If so, start now!

  • Why My Boyfriend and I Play Like Kids and Are Happier for It

    Why My Boyfriend and I Play Like Kids and Are Happier for It

    “Play is the foundation of learning, creativity, self-expression, and constructive problem-solving. It’s how children wrestle with life to make it meaningful.” ~Susan Linn, Psychiatrist

    We met at a job interview for a summer camp. At the time, I was twenty-two years old and pursuing a bachelor’s degree in English literature and psychology at UBC. On the other hand, H was attending college in the hopes of one day becoming a high school history teacher. He also “liked to promote and support the development of children.”

    During our first date, we grabbed coffee and spent some time at Indigo Books & Music. I was impressed. I had not only found a boy who was willing to tolerate my endless browsing, but genuinely seemed to enjoy it.

    H was funny, dressed nicely, and most importantly, didn’t know much about me. Later, he would learn that I’d grown up a perfectionist, that I became overwhelmed easily, and that I always took life too seriously. I valued the art of productivity and felt self-conscious when acting silly.

    In our early days, we enjoyed sunbathing at the beach and went “playground hopping,” a term coined after spending an entire afternoon going from playground to playground, sitting on the swings, flirting. We climbed the various structures and found out we could no longer get across the monkey bars.

    We had a typical “summer romance.” We sent each other flirty texts at work, and I chased him around the jungle gym during one of our outings with the kids. We played Connect 4 instead of strip poker and went to the candy store to buy samples of all our favorite childhood treats. He loved to make blanket forts and was always to blame for the ensuing pillow fight. We put on music and danced in our underwear in my bedroom late at night.

    He brought out my inner child. We played handshake games while waiting for the bus without caring about the other commuters’ glances. We painted cheap wooden frames from the dollar store and bought a puzzle at Toys R Us. We went to the kid’s arcade and had a playful Skee-Ball competition.

    After a few months of dating, and as a result of my interest into Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), H and I sat down and made a list of what would become our Common Core Values. Out of sixty values, we picked about a dozen. Then, we talked about them.

    Connecting with our values adds meaning to our lives, but clarifying values can be challenging, because most values are words that are vague. Take, for example, the value of respect. Most people I know value respect. But what does it look like? And what does respect look like specifically in a romantic relationship? We recorded our choices in our newly bought couple’s journal.

    Our values included words such as connection (physical, emotional), equality, boundaries, safety, teamwork, gratitude, humility, and kindness, as well as trust, courage, and vulnerability.

    The value that stood out to me the most, though, was play.

    Play has been one of the core tenets of our relationship. When we first met, he had no idea that I was heavily involved in the mental health community.

    I worked at the hospital where I did peer support work and supported children as well as their families navigate the (highly complex) mental health system. I heard devastating stories of families trying to access care.

    I sat on the board of a non-profit organization that held support groups for students every week and spent a lot of my time holding space for others, while at the same time admiring their resilience. Outside of that, I was busy taking classes, and trying my best to care for my own mental health.

    A few years ago, when I fell in love with Brené Brown’s The Gifts of Imperfection, the chapter that stood out the most to me was: “Wholehearted Living Guidepost 7: Cultivating Rest and Play.”

    In the chapter, she introduced Dr. Stuart Brown, a psychiatrist who has studied play. He explained that play is time spent without purpose and can include a variety of “frivolous activities.”

    As a young adult, overachiever, and university student, I spend most of my time working hard, trying to achieve the definition of “success” society has defined for me. At times, there are sleepless nights, two cups of coffee, and skipped breakfasts.

    When H and I play, we lose track of time. We become immersed in our decorating of gratitude jars, tickle fights, and me chasing him down with an ice cream cone.

    My relationship with H has given me one of the greatest gifts: the ability to lose myself in laughter, and permission to focus on leisure without feeling guilt or anxiety. In the words of Brené Brown, it is all about “letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth.”

    I like to refer to H as “Mr. Fun” because it’s the part I love most about him. If it wasn’t for him, I would rarely allow myself to play. I often feel self-conscious and judge myself harshly whenever I feel the urge to do something “childish,” like coloring. I tell myself, “Don’t be ridiculous. Grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

    At the time of our discovering our common core values, we had only been dating for three months. Since then, we’ve grown enormously as a couple. The wonderful thing about our common core values is that we now have a silent agreement. We have both committed to living by those values, so we refer to them as needed, especially during a conflict. When we make mistakes, we refer to the value of forgiveness. It lessens the guilt and shame while still holding us accountable.

    Essentially, play encourages self-enquiry, social connection, and being curious about the world.

    Play has allowed us to cultivate a relationship that is based on vulnerability and helps us cope with the uncertainty of the world. It has enhanced our intimacy and helped us relax during stressful times. After all, we are realistic, and understand that our relationship will encounter many obstacles in the future, including having to cope with economic and political instability.

    From an outsider perspective, I am described as responsible, punctual, and can be found balancing my budget with an Excel sheet, every month. You are more likely to find me writing professional emails than singing in the shower or expressing my creativity.

    Sometimes H and I argue about the pros and cons of having carpet in our future dream home and sometimes we make lists of supplies to buy, like Play-Doh, or Legos. Sometimes we discuss Canadian politics while drinking apple juice in plastic cups. We eat Kraft Dinner as a snack and calculate the cost of a one-bedroom apartment. We are both children at heart and young adults trying to navigate the world.

    And not too long ago, H surprised me with a heart shape made of colourful melted beads.

  • How I Stopped Carrying the Weight of the World and Started Enjoying Life

    How I Stopped Carrying the Weight of the World and Started Enjoying Life

    “These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb.” ~Najwa Zebian

    During a personal development course, one of my first assignments was to reach out to three friends and ask them to list my top three qualities. It was to help me see myself the way others saw me.

    At the time, my confidence was low and I couldn’t truly see myself. I didn’t remember who I was or what I wanted. The assignment was a way to rebuild my self-esteem and see myself from a broader perspective.

    As I vulnerably asked and then received the responses, I immediately felt disappointed. All three lists shared commonalties, specifically around responsibility. The problem was, I didn’t see responsibility as a positive trait. In fact, I didn’t want to be responsible; I wanted to be light, fun, and joyful.

    Though I understood that my loved ones shared this trait in a positive light—as in I was trustworthy and caring—intuitively, I knew responsibility was my armor. I used it to protect and control while, deep down, I wanted to be free and true to myself.

    I didn’t trust life. I found myself unable to let go out of fear of what may or may not happen to myself and others. I let my imagination run loose in dark places and believed if I thought my way out of every bad scenario or was on guard, I could somehow be prepared to meet the challenges that arose.

    I thought that if I oversaw everything, it would get taken care of correctly and then I’d be safe from the pain of life. The pain in life was not only my own, but my family’s, the local community’s, and the world’s. I wanted to plan and plot a way to fix everything so that everything would be perfect.

    I saw myself as a doer—a person that takes actions and makes stuff happen. I relied heavily on pushing myself and coming up with solutions and, at times, took pride in my ability to work hard, multi-task, and be clever. With time, however, I felt resentful and exhausted.

    Over the years it became too heavy a burden. My shoulders could no longer carry the weight of the world, and I was incapable of juggling so many balls. I had to let go.

    There were so many things that were out of my control, including situations that had nothing to do with me, and yet there were so many people I loved and so many dangerous possibilities.

    Living in a state of constant responsibility meant I had to be alert; I had to be on guard. I was never present and thus unable to have fun. I didn’t understand how to enjoy life while being responsible. I saw these as competing desires and ended up avoiding joy totally.

    I believed I could save joy for a vacation or that wedding coming up next month. I always postponed joy until later so that I could resume being responsible.

    However, being a doer and taking responsibility for things that were not in my direct control had consequences. I was unhappy and drained, constantly wondering why I couldn’t just relax and enjoy life.

    Even when I went away on a vacation, I was unable to calm my mind and have fun. I told myself once x,y,z was taken care of, then I’d feel calm, but then something new would come up and I’d be thinking about that instead of enjoying my trip.

    This left me with a powerful realization: I felt safer feeling anxious and tense than I did feeling happy.

    In some twisted way, it served me. At the time, being happy was too vulnerable, while being on guard for the next catastrophe felt safer. This was not how I wanted to continue living life.

    I wanted to remove the armor. I wanted to trust and enjoy life, and I wanted to believe that whether or not I was on top of everything, things would work out.

    I knew that I could be responsible without carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. That I could be dependable and caring without being stressed or serious. Those were expectations I had falsely placed on myself, and it was up to me to remove them.

    Once I realized that solving the world’s problems was harming my health and that I was choosing fear over joy out of a false sense of security, I decided to give myself permission to feel the discomfort and vulnerability of happiness. In doing so I found the courage to let go, trust, play, and love life.

    I began setting boundaries with myself. The person that had placed the badge of responsibility on my shoulders was me, and I had chosen to do it out of fear, not love. I had to let go of knowing everything that was going on in other people’s lives and the world and take space from social media, friends, and family to make space for me.

    I began to cultivate joy by practicing presence daily and taking the time to do things I enjoyed doing.

    I took yoga classes, watched comedy shows, went to the beach, and continued personal development courses.

    I learned that although I was great at multi-tasking and pushing through, it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to courageously follow my dreams and enjoy my precious life.

    That meant that I had to feel the uncertainty, sadness, and danger of life’s circumstances without jumping in to fix anything. I had to take a step back and bring awareness to my thoughts so I wouldn’t unconsciously join the merry-go-round of solving problems.

    I was a beginner at all these things, but the more I practiced, the more joy I experienced, and this spread onto others. Surprisingly, friends would tell me how I inspired and helped them—not by solving their problems but by being bold enough to enjoy my life.

    If you want to enjoy your life but stress yourself out trying to save everyone from pain, begin to set boundaries with yourself. Stay in your lane and focus on the areas you have direct control over—your attitude, your daily activities, and your perspectives.

    Try slowing down, investing time and energy into activities that light you up. You can’t protect anyone from what’s coming in the future, but you can enjoy your present by letting go and opening up to joy.

  • How to Enjoy Life Without Buying Lots of Stuff

    How to Enjoy Life Without Buying Lots of Stuff

    “Minimalism isn’t about removing the things you love. It’s about removing the things that distract you from the things you love.” ~Joshua Becker

    Over the recent few years of being a digital nomad, I got a chance to live in Spain, Sri Lanka, Mexico, and Canada for a month or longer. As I didn’t have a home base and only had one medium-sized suitcase with me (still do), I couldn’t really afford to buy new things.

    I mean, I would need to put them somewhere, and my suitcase is already over forty-five pounds while most airlines only allow up to fifty.

    Even when I had to go back to my home country and stay there for almost a year because of the pandemic, I knew I’d be on the road again as soon as possible. So I continued to not buy anything other than essential things.

    I was never a shopaholic before, but I still felt miserable wearing the same few-year-old clothes and watching my friends (not even mentioning social media influencers I follow) regularly enjoy new things.

    I didn’t realize that more often than not we only buy things to fill a void or to relieve stress, not necessarily because we actually need or even want them. As soon as I figured that out, I started looking for alternative ways to fill my days with joy that didn’t involve buying new stuff.

    Today I want to share four things that I’m buying now when I want to feel better, which don’t occupy any space in my suitcase!

    1. Online courses

    Maybe it’s just me, but courses that teach me new skills are my favorite things ever! Even my husband knows that giving me a course as a gift will always make me happy.

    I have a ton of hobbies and things that I’m interested in, and each of them could become a full-time thing if I wanted it to. So there is no lack of information to keep learning.

    For example, last year I was into photography and took a bunch of courses on the subject. I learned mobile photography, then normal photography, and even some videography. I studied lots of related things including photo and video editing and even dipped my toes into stock photography.

    This year I’m learning digital illustration. YouTube and Skillshare are my two best friends right now and would probably be the most visited websites in my free time if I were to track my web activity. It just makes me so happy to ace a new thing I couldn’t imagine creating before!

    Honestly, I could never understand people who get bored staying alone at home and don’t know what to do. I wish I had another twenty-four hours in my day just to fit in all the things I want to learn!

    Besides, investing in yourself is never a bad idea. You never know where your new skills might appear useful on your life journey.

    2. Experiences

    You might say that it’s easy to find new experiences when you are traveling, and that’s true. I often go on walking tours, participate in cooking classes, and find other interesting things that my next country has to offer.

    But if you think I didn’t invest in experiences when I wasn’t a nomad, you are wrong.

    My favorite kind was always visiting an escape room. If you aren’t familiar with the concept, it’s a quest where you go into a room full of hints and puzzles, solving which leads you to the next one, and so on until the final thing gives you a key or something to escape the room. Usually, there is a specific theme for the room, you have one hour to escape, and there can be more than one actual room involved.

    Over the years, with my friends and coworkers, I went to almost every room that existed in my city at the time (which is a lot). Some were very easy; some were so hard that we didn’t get out on time. I remember the one which was absolutely dark and another one where they put chains around your ankles and wrists at the beginning, which you have to get out of.

    The feeling of nailing another quest room can hardly compare to anything else; it’s like actually being in an adventurous book for an hour. If you happen to be a nerd and avid reader like me, you know what I mean.

    Meaningful experiences strengthen your relationships and create memories for years to come. Do you remember every shirt you buy or reminisce about it with friends? I doubt that!

    3. Little gifts for friends

    This one is a bit of a cheat, as you might actually get to buy a physical thing.

    But, instead of it piling up in your closet, you give it away and feel good about it. Your friend is happy, you are happy, and your home doesn’t get cluttered. Not bad, huh?

    Just make sure to only buy things your loved ones actually want so they don’t start hating you for cluttering their home. Especially if your friend happens to be a minimalist.

    Wanna know my approach to always giving really good gifts? I swear by wishlists!

    I have had one for many years, and I made each of my friends and family members make one. Not everyone likes the idea at first, but I promise you, everyone loves getting specific things they want as presents! And don’t worry, it can still be a surprise, especially if their wishlist is long enough.

    To support the idea of having less stuff, encourage your friends to add items to their wishlists that aren’t physical things. About two-thirds of my own wishlist consists of specific online courses I’d love to take, new experiences I wish to try one day, and gift cards for fun things like massages and yoga classes.

    When it comes to hobbies and lifestyle choices, people usually know exactly what they want, and you can never go wrong with a wishlist. Without it, unless you know for sure all the details, it’s easy to gift someone a book they already have or a course that is too beginner-oriented (or too advanced) for their level. If you have doubts, better buy them a gift card to their favorite store or learning platform, so they can choose a specific item themselves.

    If you think you need to wait for a holiday or a birthday to give someone a gift, think again!

    The best presents are unexpected ones. Try surprising your friend with something they want for no particular reason, and just see how excited they get! They will feel loved and valued, which is something we can all benefit from.

    And as for you, the process of finding a perfect gift and seeing your friend genuinely enjoying it releases dopamine and endorphins, which basically make you feel happier. Win-win!

    4. eBooks

    The last thing on the list of things I still buy is eBooks.

    I am the person who used to read 100+ books per year and had a full bookcase at home. Now I travel with my tiny Kindle and am more mindful about what I’m reading.

    With that said, I still love the smell of real books and the feeling of actually turning pages! I still have a few of my favorite bookmarks. But I only buy digital books as it would be impossible to travel with “real” ones. I wish I had Hermione’s handbag with an extension charm on it, but sadly I don’t.

    I know many people these days don’t read books. With so many kinds of easily digestible visual content options we have online now, books became something of an old era. However, the process of reading still has a ton of health benefits: from improving your concentration skills and vocabulary to releasing stress and anxiety that is a constant problem in most of our lives.

    Nothing else can take your mind off your routines and worries quite as an interesting book can. It may only weigh a few kilobytes, but it has a whole world inside.

    —

    These were my four things to buy that won’t ever clutter your life! They might, however, make a big impact on your self-development, make you smarter, improve your skills and mental health, and make you happier. Not a bad deal, is it? Especially for things that don’t take up any space.

    I hope you can agree with me now that it’s possible to live happily without buying new stuff all the time. I am not exactly a minimalist, but I like the idea of surrounding yourself with things that bring you joy instead of cluttering your life with things that only bring you instant gratification and then get forgotten.

    Try to fill your days with fun experiences and learning new skills, as your memories and abilities are things you can always take with you, wherever you go.

  • If It Brings You Joy, It’s Not “Wasting Time”

    If It Brings You Joy, It’s Not “Wasting Time”

    “At any moment, you have a choice that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    When I was a kid, I wanted to be an Olympic figure skater. Or an artist for Disney. Or maybe a musician.

    I wanted to be a songwriter and choreographer.

    I made up roller skating routines in the driveway to Tiffany and Paula Abdul. (It was most excellent.)

    I filled notebooks upon notebooks with illustrations.

    And if you were to ask me to describe myself, I might have said, “happy.” Or I would have chattered on about my dreams and all the interesting things I liked.

    Ask me today, and just like any other adult, my automatic response would probably be something along the lines of what I do and how hard I work, as if I’m interviewing for a job.

    I’m a psychologist. I’m a hard worker. I’m dedicated.

    (Adults aren’t always so good at this.)

    Somewhere around junior high, my identity shifted from happy and interested in everything to being studious and serious about everything.  

    Until very recently, I wouldn’t have thought to describe myself as joyful, creative, or inquisitive.

    Whereas I once thought about doing what fed my spirit, I started thinking about earning potential and prestige. Rather than doing things because they brought me joy, I did them because I was good at them. And things that I wasn’t didn’t make the cut.

    This was the time to start getting serious. Win the awards. Get scholarships. Get recognized.

    And stop wasting time.

    Things got competitive, too. Friends started talking about test scores, then it was talk about college and graduate school and publications and careers.

    It was during that time that I also discovered insecurity. I got caught up in not-good-enough thinking, and I felt like an imposter all the time.

    I don’t even think I noticed that I’d forgotten about joy. I’d laugh as I said, “I’ll be happy when…” only to find that there was always another “when” lurking around the corner.

    I’d forgotten what we all know as children, that joy is a part of us. It’s not a place you arrive at when you finally finish all of this serious business. It’s a piece of you that needs to be nurtured.  

    But I didn’t nurture the joy. I let it go because I thought I could live without it. Even the things I did in the name of self-care had lost their joy.

    Running, which once left me feeling as free as the wind, became about getting faster and going farther.

    Yoga, which was meant to be a grounding and compassionate practice for me, became about sticking that handstand a little longer.

    Setting goals isn’t the problem here. It’s just that accomplishments aren’t the same thing as thriving.

    Looking back at all of this, I see that I’d made myself so small, I forgot I was in there at all.

    Oh, my success more than spoke for itself, but joy? Interests? Excitement? I’d shut them down one by one because I wasn’t good enough or because they weren’t serious enough.  

    I stopped drawing.

    I stopped making jewelry.

    I stopped doing things just because they were enjoyable.

    And why? Because I thought I could live without them.

    I did everything you’re supposed to do, and I did everything in my power to do it just right. I got into that fancy private school on a full ride, got the Ph.D., got the license, and got the stable job. And I became so entrenched in this serious, hard-worker identity that I forgot about me.

    I’m truly grateful for the opportunities and privileges and people in my life, but as a human being, it felt like something was missing. Maybe those things I’d been living without might have been more necessary than I thought.

    Little pieces of that happy little girl popped up from time to time, but I’d push them away or turn them into something too perfect.

    And then one of those pieces shouted at me so loudly I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I was sitting on the blue mat in my son’s room reading Pete the Cat when it happened.

    You should do this. Write a children’s book.  

    I could almost see myself step outside of my body and look at me in disbelief.

    Really? You? Write a children’s book?

    I tried to brush it off, but my heart was pounding, and I could hardly breathe. I tried to go about my business, thinking this would go away on its own. But it didn’t.

    After a lot of back and forth with myself, I finally mumbled the words to my husband, “I think I want to write a children’s book.”

    I braced myself for the same look of disbelief I gave myself, but none came.

    “You should do it,” he said, apparently not at all surprised.

    As much as I’d like to say this was some kind of magical transformation, it wasn’t. I didn’t quit my job and whip out a world-famous, award-winning children’s book. But that’s not the point of this story anyway.

    The point is that I found joy again.

    It took a while. I thought about it and analyzed it, trying to make it disappear. I told myself I didn’t know what I was doing and didn’t have the time.

    The thought stuck with me, though, growing louder and louder until, under the cover of darkness in the early morning hours, I pulled a sheet of paper from the printer, sharpened a pencil, and sat down.

    Like one of those scenes from a movie when someone who’s had amnesia suddenly remembers their entire life, the memories of all the things I thought I could live without came flooding back.

    Have I really been living without this all this time?

    I filled pages upon pages with illustrations.

    I made up rhymes and stories.

    And do you know what happened? I didn’t just feel joy. I felt free.

    I could probably go on living without this, but now I see that I don’t have to.

    I didn’t need to quit my job.

    I didn’t neglect my children.

    The house didn’t crumble at my feet.

    Pursuing this didn’t need to make me a cent. I didn’t even need to be very good at it.

    Because it was always about joy, and that’s not something I want to live without anymore.

    Living with joy doesn’t hurt anything. It doesn’t diminish your drive or ambition. It doesn’t make you less intelligent. And it sure doesn’t make you any less important.

    Living with joy makes you free, and that freedom reminds you of everything that is possible. Even the serious things.

    On the outside, my life probably looks pretty much the same since that night I sat on my son’s blue mat, but on the inside, everything is different.

    Since then, I found that little girl that I didn’t even know had gone missing.

    I remembered the roller skating routines, designing t-shirts, setting up photo shoots in the living room, and sitting on the edge of my seat holding my breath watching decorating shows.

    I remembered what it feels like to be happy and excited and inquisitive.

    And now I get it. Just because you can live without something doesn’t mean you have to.  

    What piece of joy have you been telling yourself you can live without?

    What do you think would happen if you said one day, “I don’t have to live without this?”

    You can find that joy, even if that little piece of joy has been buried for a long time.

    To begin, start by saying yes to yourself a little more. Yes to that little spark of curiosity, yes to that little smile that you shrug off, and definitely yes to that burning feeling inside your chest that screams, “Listen to this. This is joy.”

    It doesn’t matter if it feels ridiculous, it doesn’t matter if it’s “wasting time,” and it sure doesn’t matter if you’re any good at it. What matters is the feeling you get when you do it. Because that feeling like you’re going to laugh and cry and sit silently and run through the halls singing all at once, that’s joy. (And you don’t need to live without it.)

    Remember to pursue more than success or accomplishment. Those are important, but so are the things that bring you meaning, connection, and engagement in your life.

    Feel the spontaneous moments of joy that seem to bubble up out of nowhere, and plan a few to look forward to. Fill those moments with activities that fill you up. Simply unplugging is not enough when you’re after joy. And above all else, do not cancel on yourself.

    As you do this, stay alert for that voice that says you can live without this. Maybe you can, but maybe you don’t have to anymore.

  • Why Chasing Happiness Won’t Make You Happy

    Why Chasing Happiness Won’t Make You Happy

    “Happiness is like a butterfly, the more you chase it, the more it will evade you, but if you notice the other things around you, it will gently come and sit on your shoulder.” ~Henry David Thoreau

    Most of us are always on the lookout for a big breakthrough—a point in our life where the beam balance tips to maximal happiness so we can enjoy everlasting bliss. What can we do to get there?

    Our pursuit of happiness is like a coyote chasing a roadrunner. But what happens? Just like the roadrunner, happiness slips out of our hands every single time. This leads us to a few questions…

    What if the pursuit of happiness is never-ending? Have we ever considered the caveats of chasing happiness? To save you from months of misery, I’ll share a little of my life experience. From being a typical college kid to suffering from depression, it was my pursuit of happiness that brought me down.

    The Obsession Phase

    It was 2018. I was obsessed with smartphones, and my average screen time per day was ten hours. Getting stuck in a vicious cycle of Whatsapp, Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube for hours left me miserable and sluggish. In a vain attempt to gain my life back, I deleted all social media accounts. Every social media app went right out the window.

    Fast-forward fifteen days later, my daily screen time still averaged around eight to ten hours. I was the most hard-core addict you could ever find. It wasn’t a good sign, and I desperately wanted to relieve myself from the clutches of my smartphone. So this time I did something different: I sold my smartphone and got myself a shabby Nokia 3310.

    It was a “life-altering experience.” It filled me with eternal joy right away, and… okay, I’m gonna stop lying. I just wanted to pretend to be an Instagram influencer who ditches their phones for thirty days and claims the experience to be life-changing! As if it could be that easy.

    The truth is, quitting my smartphone sucked. Over seven hours of free time with nothing to do. I felt like my head was gonna shatter into a million pieces. I was bored to tears during the first few days, and I spent much of my time staring at my friends with their shiny little companions. Days rolled by…

    One fine day an idea for a short story popped in my mind. It was about a young girl who lost her boxer dad in a fight and lives in poverty with her mother. She’s guided by a guy at school, and they develop a sort of “brother from another mother” relationship. He lifts her up, and she does the same when he falls back.

    With nothing much to do, and with zero expectations, I started writing.

    Every evening after college, I raced to the library to write my story. Weeks passed and I finished my first draft. Guess what? I published it too… packed with tons of typos and errors, but still, I did it!

    Luckily, my compassionate friends overlooked my errors and still read the entire thing. And they (kind of) liked it. Not that I was some writing prodigy or whatever, but it wasn’t bad for a first timer. This kindled writing dreams in me… and things started going downhill from here.

    I was disillusioned that success and fame would make me happy. With this false belief, writing became my new drug of choice. Fast forward a few months, I would wake up as early as 4:30 in the morning and then would work till midnight.

    It wasn’t that I’d write all the time; I’d spend most of my mornings procrastinating, sitting before my desk or banging my head on it for ideas. I fixated on the idea that more work = better chances of success = better chances of becoming happy. The lack of sleep, bit by bit, was taking a toll on my body, and I was turning into an impulsive, depressed, insomniac zombie.

    Though I sat before my laptop for almost one-third of the day, I could have achieved the same amount of work in a single hour. I got carried away with my false definition of success, and this distanced me from my friends, which I’m not proud to admit.

    But a book intervened and saved me from becoming a zombie who feasts on his roommate’s brain for breakfast. The chapter on the importance of sleep made me realize how dumb I’d been. I finally understood the workaholic madness I was under.

    The Recovery Phase

    I started sleeping seven to eight hours per night, despite my fear of becoming less productive. I wrote for enjoyment, started hanging around with friends, went to movies, and took a few short trips as well. But none of this was possible in my workaholic days. It was all work-work-work.

    A week later, I realized I got more quality work done in one to two hours than I was able to achieve in eight, when I was getting poor quality sleep. And with each passing month, things got better and better. This got me thinking…

    “Why am I so happy even though I’m working less? Why am I happy even though I’m not trying to be happy?”

    That’s when I stumbled upon this idea.

    How Happiness Works

    Psst… I am gonna tell you how happiness works. (Cue drumroll) Happiness is an effect, not a cause nor a destination. Let me explain…

    If you’re trying to be happy, you think of it as a destination—somewhere to get to in the future after you do all the right things. Now think of all the moments you were happy: When you passed an exam after multiple attempts, hung out with your friends, celebrated your birthday, danced at a party, played a sport, went on vacations. All these things have two things in common.

    • The activities themselves generate happiness.
    • You don’t set out to achieve happiness. Instead, you enjoy the activity.

    I hung around my friends and went to movies because I love doing this stuff. This generates happiness. I never intended to become happy by watching a flick, I just wanted to enjoy a movie, and I felt happy as a result.

    Chasing happiness is counterintuitive.

    Think back to your childhood days. Did you ever sit by yourself debating what makes you happy? If you’d find happiness by playing cricket or LEGO blocks? You did things if you liked them, not because you intellectually decided they were the key to happiness.

    Even if you successfully find happiness after a long chase, I bet it won’t last long—I didn’t say this, science does—thanks to hedonic adaptation, the observed tendency of humans to quickly return to a relatively stable level of happiness despite major positive or negative events or life changes.

    So instead of asking what makes you happy, ask what do you enjoy doing?

    I enjoy the following things. Maybe something here could work for you.

    How Can You Enjoy Life More?

    Passion

    Cultivate a love for something. Research shows having a passion increases our eudaimonic well-being. Art, music, writing, gardening, cooking, programming, dance, designing are a few examples out of a million. If you are trying to find your passion, there are a couple things you need to know,

    -Passion never turns up at your doorstep. You have to create it. This means that you keep working on random things that in turn produce your love for an activity, not the other way around. Only after writing three short stories and fifteen sh*tty blog posts did I discover my passion for writing.

    -The only reason to be passionate about something is because you love the activity in itself, not because you can make money out of it. And it’s totally cool if you don’t make money out of your passion—when you follow your passion it doesn’t feel like work, right? I still love writing and hope to hold on to it forever. It’s not my love for writing that ruined me. The desire to be famous and chasing happiness did that.

    Strive for Work/Life Balance

    Whether you’re eighteen or eighty, you won’t be happy if you overwork yourself, nor if you spend all your time binge-watching TV shows. Always try to have a balance so you have time to get things done, time to enjoy things you love, and time to simply be.

    Channel Your Stress Well

    It’s easier to binge Netflix after a tiring day at work. But how about working out, taking your dog for a walk, watering your plants, or taking your kids to an ice cream parlor? Find things that you enjoy and channel your stress that way instead of mindlessly scrolling social media. 

    Socialize

    Human beings are social creatures, so let’s act like it. Go on a family trip, plan a game night with friends (virtual or in person), or simply have dinner with your family together. Odds are, when you’re laughing with people you love you’ll be so present in the moment you won’t think about anything, let alone finding happiness.

    Take care of the body you live in

    Good rest powers you up for a great day, whereas sleep deprivation destroys your mood and your health. So sleep well, and workout at least three times a week to get your blood and endorphins flowing. You needn’t bench 300 pounds. A fifteen-minute jog would do the job.

    —

    So to summarize: Stop chasing happiness, it makes your life worse. Engage yourself in activities that you enjoy in a variety of fields, e.g.: socializing, passion, hobbies. Sleep well and stay human. Zombies have a terrible reputation on our planet, so don’t become one.

  • Stop Striving, Start Stopping: How to Enjoy Life More

    Stop Striving, Start Stopping: How to Enjoy Life More

    “Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.” ~Andy Rooney

    Three months ago, I was blessed with an awesome opportunity—a free weekend break to Snowdonia, Wales.

    Having experienced chronic health conditions for the past six years of my life, I had been hibernating.

    My days were a black-and-white routine: wake up, drink a smoothie mix, go to work, meditate, come home, lie down, eat, sleep. Yet, my mind was always so busy filled with endless tasks, big dreams, and an expanding sense of pressure as I craved more than what I had.

    When this opportunity arose. I immediately felt fear. What if I couldn’t handle the journey? What if I didn’t get enough sleep? What if I couldn’t find food that I could tolerate?

    Yet, another part of me glittered with gold.

    An adventure. A story. A long lost, forgotten part of me.

    And so, I called a friend.

    The next morning, we were on our way to Wales.

    The seven-hour journey flew by in an ultimate sense of flow.

    We arrived at a quaint, quiet hostel high up on the hills. Sheep scattered their white wool; tiny snowdrops on a vast, barren land. A grey sky painted watercolor clouds, and deep, green trees sang and swayed as they gave way to the wind.

    We sat quietly and observed. High ceilings and red carpets held the space of silence. The wind outside howled and stormed, brewed and bawled, concocting a frenzied feast for the night.

    We drifted off to sleep in our new world. A no man’s land, which oddly felt like home.

    We rose the next morning, with no clear plan but to simply wake and see where the wind would take us. Our eye lashes fluttered as we peered outside to see what surprises the storm had scattered and sown for us.

    We chose to drive around the winding hills of wanderlust, each corner revealing yet another crystal blue lagoon, laced with grey slate and white sheets of snow.

    We parked the car on the left-hand side of the road and looked up in appreciation. Our eyes glistened at the sight of rolling green fields, rusty iron gates, and trickling rivers gently cradled by bracken and boulders. A tiny, snow covered peak painted delicately, precariously and prettily, just waiting to be explored.

    And so, we walked.

    We walked and we walked and saw a lonely red hat, left and long forgotten. My boots stampeded the squelchy mud mashed with fresh fallen snow. We marched on.

    I was determined to reach the top.

    One hour into our climb I squealed with delight, “Look, we’re nearly there!”

    “No,” he said. “That’s just the beginning.”

    And he was right.

    As we reached what I had thought was our peak, another higher, rockier, snowier mountain suddenly arose before our eyes.

    “Oh,” I said.

    And so, we continued to climb for hours and hours.

    Much to my surprise, with every peak we reached, yet another one revealed itself. Each with its own intricate beauties—blue laced lagoons; pretty white blankets of pure, untrodden snow; higher heights with a dazzling white glow.

    Three hours in, I finally realized my drive to reach each new peak was limiting my boundless joy.

    The joy of climbing, the joy of tumbling. The joy of dancing, the joy of being.

    The joy of appreciating, the here, the now, the moment.

    I stopped and turned.

    “I think that’s enough,” I said.

    For once in my life. I didn’t want to reach the top. I didn’t want to conquer the next big challenge. I wanted to stop. I wanted to breathe. I wanted to play.

    And so, we breathed.

    We filled our pale pink lungs with cold, crisp air as we slipped and slid on sheets of ice. We looked at the highest height and laughed. We didn’t need to reach the top. What did we have to prove?

    We had it all right here.

    And so, we made our descent.

    Slowly, lovingly, and longingly.

    Appreciating every layer as if it were the last.

    But this time, we didn’t just walk and walk and walk. We climbed, we ran, we hopped, we danced. We rolled, we sunk, we stepped, and we laughed.

    The blue laced lagoons became sheer slate drops. The pretty white blankets became sludgy stained snow. The dazzling white glow dissolved into a land of green, bracken grass.

    And it was all simply perfect.

    We rolled down our final descent and laughed as we realized that in a land of a thousand acres, we had found the exact lonely red hat that had greeted us at the start.

    We crept through the creaking iron gate and sat on a piece of solid, set stone.

    And for the first time, I knew.

    That the next big thing, the next best thing, the next mountaintop would always be ahead of us. And I realized how much of my life I had wasted. Wanting, waiting, striving. When all there ever really was, was really right here.

    And in the right here, right now, everything was good.

    No matter what the view.

    There was always something to celebrate.

    Every layer of our life is worth living.

    Returning home from this trip, I reflected on my drive, my ambition, my constant search for success. And I realized, this search was, in fact, fueling an unsustainable state of health. On those vast lands, of everything and nothing, I had felt more energized, more free, and more in flow than I had in six long years. For the first time, I felt alive.

    And so, I hope this story inspires you to simply stop striving. For this pattern has tainted so much of my beautiful life here on earth. Stopping the striving, and the endless soul searching, leaves space for our inner peace, our inner flow, our inner glow.

    The mountains will always call us. Higher heights will always tempt us. Newer sights will always blind us. Yet, we have a choice. The choice to sacrifice our present for a future that may never come. Or to lovingly embrace our present as if it’s the only thing we know for sure we have—because it is.

  • Why I Appreciate Simple Things in Life After The Coronavirus

    Why I Appreciate Simple Things in Life After The Coronavirus

    “It’s not a bad idea to occasionally spend a little time thinking about things you take for granted. Plain everyday things.” ~Evan Davis

    Let me go back in time. Not too long, but only six months ago when the virus outbreak hadn’t occurred yet. I was cursing the traffic, complaining the beer in a bar was not chilled enough, and hating that the supermarket next to my house did not have my favorite deodorant.

    Soon after, due to the global pandemic, my country was under lockdown like many others. When I was indoors, I realized how beautiful and blessed I was to have the life which I otherwise assumed was regular and usual. Little did I know that I was taking things for granted and complaining about the most trivial problems.

    When I look back now, I notice many special areas of life whose importance I failed to understand earlier.

    1. Freedom

    I had the choice to go wherever I wished and do whatever I wanted. As long as I did not do anything illegal or break any rules, of course.

    I had the freedom to live life like I wanted to. No holds barred, and no questions asked. It was my life and my choice.

    Yet, if I had to drive too far, I would whine about the miles I had to cover. During the lockdown, I needed a valid reason to travel that distance and face cops who most certainly wouldn’t allow me to get there.

    Staying indoors has taught me that losing control of the fundamental aspects of your life makes you uncomfortable. These are the things we consider usual and expected. We only realize the value of them when they vanish.

    2. Comfort

    Life and technology have evolved by leaps and bounds over the years. In fact, life today is drastically different from what it was a decade ago. Back then, you needed to carry a digital camera for photos, self-driving cars hadn’t hit the road yet, and group messages were not even a thing.

    Now, we enjoy so many benefits from the comfort of our couch. You can order food, get your car washed, or send a package to your friend without stepping outside your front door. When the delivery executive arrived ten minutes late, I would mentally curse the company for making me wait.

    During the lockdown, I would wait a whole day for the same service. The comfort of technology and the services various businesses provide are priceless.

    3. Variety

    I had a hard time picking vegetables. I would roll my eyes saying, “Someone needs to produce new vegetables. I can’t eat the same all the time.” That was despite having a large variety in the supermarket. I wanted something fresh and new.

    The same applied for the cereals I bought, the restaurants I dined at, or the shopping mall I visited. I had enough of the cereals that seemed to taste the same. I was fed up with the restaurants in the vicinity of my house. I wanted other shopping options than the usual mall next door.

    I would travel an extra distance to add variety in my life. During the lockdown, I did not even have the privilege of relishing the usual options.

    The more variety we have, the more we crave. Desire is like a treadmill running on infinite electricity. It never comes to an end.

    4. The fun outside

    No matter which city you live in, you have umpteen opportunities to have fun and relax. I had the option to watch any movie I like, go bowling no matter how bad I was at it, or enjoy the adrenaline of a kart race.

    Even though I had very many ways to have fun, I compared my city with others. I complained, “Damn, my city has no options to enjoy nature. I have to go miles away for a trek.”

    When I was locked in and resorting to board games, I realize how fun-filled my city actually is.

    5. The human interaction

    When I went out with a large group, it would take a toll on me. Being an introvert, I preferred only a certain level of interaction. Beyond that, I would choose to be by myself than socialize. The smiles seemed artificial, and the handshakes appeared unnecessary.

    Today, when I come across a passerby, the smile lies hidden behind the mask, and a handshake is out of the question. Earlier, we called the people around us a “crowd,” today we call our situation “isolation.”

    The memes on the internet, which say that introverts feel no difference locked indoors, aren’t true. Both introverts or extroverts need at least some form of interaction to feel connected with the rest of the world.

    6. The power of teams

    Before, whenever we had to solve a problem at work, we would gather in a room and exchange ideas. Many complex issues found a solution because human beings can improve on each other’s thoughts to reach the desired outcome.

    Today, facilitating such a conversation is a nightmare. Video conferencing tools provide a viable workaround for one on one discussions and team meetings where everyone shares updates. But they cannot replace a bunch of smart people sitting in a real room discussing ideas at tandem.

    Moreover, teams who see each other every day, gel along better. The physical presence creates a bond beyond just work relationships. It is the strength of such bonds that facilitates organizations to achieve massive goals.

    I realize the power of teams, even more today when they cannot operate like they used to.

    7. The giant web of economy

    The economy is like a huge castle constructed of many individual Lego blocks. When you take one out, you feel no difference. Take another out, still not too big of a pinch. Take a few more out, and the entire structure collapses into mayhem.

    Different parts of the economy are interdependent, even if they do not seem apparent. Shutting down public transport left many people unemployed and unable to earn their daily wages. A lack of transportation implied goods couldn’t flow freely. As a result, we did not have all the supplies in your supermarket.

    Every contributor to the economy helps it remain steady. When everything runs well, you don’t notice their contribution. When a few portions break, you understand their role in keeping the whole structure stable together.

    The Lessons I Learned from the Lockdown

    The past weeks of the lockdown have taught me some invaluable lessons I will remember for the rest of my life.

    1. Enjoy the present.

    I have targeted gigantic goals for a long time. As a result, my eyes are always on the future, and each day is a grind to get there.

    But the world around you is full of things to relish, cherish, and enjoy in the present. I am not saying you must stop chasing your goals and enjoy today alone. I will continue pursuing goals like before, and so should you. But while you are on this journey, don’t forget to pause and experience the happiness around you.

    Don’t lose the sense of the present by solely focusing on the future.

    2. You feel the pain only when something is missing.

    Some of the things of your day to day life seem normal and expected. For example:

    • You expect to find all you need in a supermarket
    • You expect the pizza to arrive within thirty minutes
    • You expect the mechanic to show up and fix your broken vehicle

    Over time, such expectations make you lose the value of little things in life. Don’t take such things for granted. You never know why and how they can be snatched away from you. You only feel the pain when you lose the privilege altogether.

    3. Your emotions are defined by what you choose to see.

    No matter who you are, what you do, and which part of the world you belong to, you always see what you want to see. If you want a reason to complain, you will find a ton of things around you that aren’t right. If you seek happiness, you will notice many parts of your life that are a reason to rejoice.

    Everyone shows a common reaction when things go well. Someone gives a toast, people clink their glasses, and everyone dances to the music.

    But you cannot always control the world around you to work in your favor. The market can collapse, a natural calamity can occur, or a virus outbreak can happen.

    What you can control is how you respond to such calamities to stay strong. Your reaction to such mishaps is what defines you.

    The global pandemic due to the coronavirus made my life harder. But, on the positive side, it has made me stronger.

    “When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways—either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits or by using the challenge to find our inner strength. Thanks to the teachings of Buddha, I have been able to take this second way.” ~Dalai Lama

  • 3 Ways to Stop Obsessing and Start Enjoying More of Your Life

    3 Ways to Stop Obsessing and Start Enjoying More of Your Life

    “Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.” ~Marcus Aurelius

    I’ve come to realize that worrying and obsessing don’t help or change anything.

    Hold up. Wait a minute!

    Let me rephrase that, because worrying and obsessing do change things. They make your life worse. I think pretty much everyone in the world knows this, but how hard do we try to stop doing these things?

    What If?

    Every day you wake up and you think and obsess and wonder, “What if?”

    What if I lose my job? What if he leaves me? What if I lose everything and end up homeless?

    Day after day your mind spins out of control contemplating all the things that could go wrong with your relationship or your life. On and on and on it goes, and where it stops nobody knows.

    Aren’t you getting tired of thinking all the time? Isn’t obsessing about possibilities wearing you out? At what point do you decide you should stop getting caught up in your thinking, but then actually make a change?

    I’m tired, and I know relentless thinking wears me out. Just to let you know that I understand, I’ll give you an example.

    Honestly, I have the best boyfriend ever (for me anyway) because he doesn’t let a lot of things get him down. I mean, the guy is genuinely happy and content 99% of the time. Me, not so much. He has been through multiple deployments, many of them combat, and still he never lets stuff get to him.

    But, how does this happen? Where can I get some of what he has? This, I have been contemplating.

    I’ve come to realize he feels happy more than I do because he doesn’t overanalyze life, question everything, and obsess about the future. And he probably also doesn’t obsess about how happy he is and how he can be happier!

    Here’s how it goes:

    Me: “Does he even love me? Is he ever going to totally integrate me into his life? Am I too boring for him? I really need to get some hobbies. Am I settling, or do I expect too much? I’m so fussy sometimes and I don’t know how he handles it. Where are we going to move? When is he going to deploy? Where is he going to go? Is he going to leave me here all alone?”

    I look over at him longingly, wondering what’s going through his mind, because it must be something serious and important, and he must be contemplating the fate of our relationship or the existence of the Universe, right?

    He knows when I look at him with that longing look I want to know what he’s thinking about. So, I say, “Tell me, I must know!”

    Him: “I need some new pants.” Or he’ll utter, “I want a key-less ignition for my bike.” Or, the earth-shattering statement, “My feet really stink.”

    It’s possible he’s just not telling me what he’s really thinking, but if he is obsessing like I do, it doesn’t show in how he lives his life.

    The more time I spend with him, the more I realize I’m wasting my life away obsessing about what might be or what could be or what isn’t instead of simply enjoying the moment and living in gratitude for what I have.

    My guy gets all happy and excited about the little things, and for some reason I don’t. I try. So far, I have failed. But, I vow that going forward I will not fail. I will stop obsessing all the time and I will be a lot happier as a result.

    Do you know why you obsess? Is it serving a purpose anymore? If not, you can change it. Here’s how.

    1. You have to want it.

    Are you at the point where you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired yet? If not, keep doing what you’re doing. Maybe obsessing still works for you in some way and you aren’t yet ready to change. That’s okay. We all change when we’re ready, and we get to different points at different times.

    Wanting to change starts with a conscious choice you have to make. At some point you decide that you want to take control of your life instead of letting your life, your history, and your mind control you.

    Think long and hard. Do you truly, really, honestly want to be happier? I believe that I have struggled with this notion for a long time. In my head I want to be happy, but in my heart there’s a seed of doubt.

    Happiness is something I had briefly when I was a small child, but it was shattered by abusive adults. What if I get it back and it gets taken away again? As an adult I know that isn’t logically possible because no one can take away my happiness, but it’s still a lingering fear.

    Do you feel something similar?

    Despite this fear I’ve decided that I want to be happier. I’m running out of time. We’re all running out of time. Your life is ticking away every day, and you never know when it will end.

    Decide you want to enjoy more of your life. Decide you deserve to enjoy more of your life. Decide you will do something to change, and then you will.

    2. You have to rewire your brain.

    This is the hard part. Your mind has been wired a certain way, possibly due to traumatic events, abuse, or neglect. There’s a roadmap that takes you from Point A to Point B, without fail. Before you know it, an innocuous thought like, “Does he really care about me?” has turned into you remembering every instance he showed you he didn’t care (or at least that’s how you interpreted those events), and you have now convinced yourself you should break up.

    See how this works? Often, it isn’t logical, and it isn’t factual. You’re creating stories in your head because your mind is trying to contain and assuage your fears, put them in a box, and allow you to function with the ever-scary “not knowing.”

    The fact of the matter is, you don’t know. You don’t know if your partner will leave you (they might die or cheat or break up with you—or they might stay forever). You don’t know if you’ll die tomorrow. You don’t know if you’ll lose your job or have financial struggles or end up winning the lottery.

    Recognize when you’re obsessing, then decide to accept what you don’t know and stop getting caught up in your thoughts. Do it once. Do it twice. Do it over and over and over until you have a little peace. If meditation helps, then do that. If sitting at the beach or reading a book helps, then do that. Do whatever will help you bring a little peace to your mind.

    Once you’ve created a little space in your head, you have to start believing. When you realize you’ve been wondering, “Does she really care about me?” remind yourself, “She shows she cares about me.” Start believing the good instead of the bad.

    It took me about a year to convince myself that my boyfriend really cared, even though his actions showed he did. He kept showing up and didn’t run away, but still, I had to get over my fear that no man would ever really care about me and they’d only want to use me.

    If your partner doesn’t show they care, then that’s something you need to actively address. Obsessing about something can’t change it. Only action can.

    3. You have to learn to love the little things.

    I know this is hard sometimes. If you feel apathetic or tired or depressed it’s hard to see the good in anything. But every day there are usually little things that happen that could bring you joy, even if for a few minutes.

    Yesterday I went to the beach for a few hours. Being in the sun, feeling the wind, and hearing the ocean brings peace to my soul. I try to do this as often as possible because it reminds me to appreciate being alive.

    Watching him cook breakfast makes me happy. I had to learn to sit back and let someone do something (anything) for me, and now I smile a little every time he whips up some eggs and bacon.

    They have a baby hippo at the zoo. He weighs five hundred pounds, but he bobbles around like a fat, happy, little apple in the water, and watching him makes me happy.

    I decided to buy some flowers to put in our bedroom so I can look at the sunny little yellow bunch every day.

    And I’m thinking we need a dog so I have something else to focus on.

    I’m trying to find simple things to make me happy instead of waiting for some big, giant event or some magical time when life suddenly changes and becomes more fulfilling, because that won’t ever happen. You create your reality, and if you keep waiting for life to happen, it will slowly pass you by.

    What about you? What makes you happy? There must be something you’re grateful for, and if not, find or create something. Do you paint or write? Maybe you like animals and want to volunteer at a shelter. Maybe you need to get out in nature every day even if only for an hour.

    Think of those little things that bring you joy and make sure you do them as often as possible. Try to focus on what’s good in your life, because we can spend all day focusing on what’s wrong or what isn’t working or what could be better, but honestly that doesn’t get us anywhere but into a negative spiral.

    Most importantly, don’t give up if you fall backward. Don’t let the outside world make you feel like you aren’t enough if you aren’t perfect and happy and smiling all the time like everyone else on Instagram. A picture isn’t life, and social media can make you feel like a failure if you let it.

    It’s okay to struggle. You don’t have to be perfect. You’re enough just the way you are, and as long as you keep moving forward and make peace with your journey, you are doing all you can and you should be proud of yourself.

    So, get out there. Stop letting obsessive thoughts control you and start living your life for today!

  • Why We Need to Stop Chasing Success and Start Enjoying the Little Things in Life

    Why We Need to Stop Chasing Success and Start Enjoying the Little Things in Life

    The philosopher Alan Watts always said that life is like a song, and the sole purpose of the song is to dance.

    He said that when we listen to a song, we don’t dance with the goal of getting to the end of the music. We dance to enjoy it.

    This isn’t always how we live our lives. Instead, we rush through our moments, thinking there’s always something better, there’s always some goal we need to achieve. This is my journey through a song without the dance and the lessons I’ve learned, from Alan Watts, along the way.

    “Existence is meant to be fun. It doesn’t go anywhere; it just is.”

    I sat in my car, fixated on my hands. Hot tears welled in my eyes and slowly streamed down my cheeks. I lost focus of the very thing that held the answer to my problem.

    I remember thinking about how my nails grow on their own, how my hair grows and my heart beats, and the tears fall. All without effort or pain, these things happen. They’re effortless. Why was life so difficult?

    At twenty-two, my goal was to be successful. I wanted to be someone—to have more and be more than I thought I was. I needed to justify something to the world, but I didn’t know what I was trying to prove.

    I was a mother at eighteen years old; it was a setback but never a regret. Even so, I felt judged. At twenty-three I had my second daughter. I was a wife with two kids and a low-paying job.

    I had a loving husband and two beautiful kids, but I wasn’t happy. I wanted more. In the quest for more, I traded my time for a particular brand of success. The kind of success that you can only achieve through money and status. Something precious for something I felt would give me vindication from society.

    “The whole point of dancing is the dance.”

    When I was twenty-eight, I had done all the things society tells us to do. I went to college, I got a high-paying job, and I was climbing my way to the top. I was lucky, but it didn’t feel that way. The goal was to have everything and make it look effortless. Except it wasn’t effortless, and nothing came easy. I had missed the point; I’d played the song, but I didn’t dance.

    “You live life by analogy, a journey with a pilgrimage to get to the end success, heaven, whatever. You missed the point; you were supposed to dance.”

    I became a government contractor, far from a dream, but it brought success. Maybe you became an insurance salesman or a real estate agent. Like me, you work hard every day. You get up and go through the routine that you know will make you successful. You work harder and longer hours because you know that if you just keep working, success will come.

    Then you turn forty. You’re exhausted. Life has taken its toll, but you’ve made it. You’re successful. This existence is what you worked for; it’s everything your ego wanted, and you did it. You traded the precious moments for eighty-hour workweeks, but you did it. Now you can dance. Now life can start.

    You look around at your beautiful home and your expensive cars. There comes the point when you realize that the cars and the house don’t feel the way you imagined they would. These are symbols of your success. Your ego needed them, but your heart needed something far more valuable.

    “I must survive means you are not playing.”

    Perhaps your story isn’t like mine, and at forty you’re still working a dead-end job, working to pay the bills. Wishing you had more time with the ones you love. I know it’s not easy. To compare my story to yours would be missing the point of the message.

    The point is, no matter how far you get or how hard you work, you will always want to get to the next level. Sure, material things bring comfort, but they don’t bring happiness. You will always be where you are in your heart until you realize that life isn’t about material possessions.

    Our lives are not about things and status. Even though we’ve made ourselves miserable with wanting, we already have everything we need. Life is meant to be lived. If you can’t quit your job tomorrow, enjoy where you are. Focus on the best parts of every day. Believe that everything you do has a purpose and a place in the world.

    Happiness comes from gratitude. You’re alive, you have people to miss when you go to work, and you get to see them smile every day. We all have to do things we don’t want to do; we have to survive. When you find yourself working for things that don’t matter, like a big house or a fancy car, when you could be living, you’ve missed the point. You’re playing the song, but you’re not dancing.

    “A song isn’t just the ending. It’s not just the goal of finishing the song. The song is an experience.”

    I remember going to school at night when I could have been home with my daughters. My little girls cried at the door as I left them. I tried to reason with myself. I was doing all of this for them.

    I wanted my daughters to be proud of their mother. I was setting a good example. Their mother was going to be someone for them. As I turned my back on them, I cried too. I hated that I had to leave.

    In truth, I made a choice to leave them. Everything we do in life is a choice that we’ve made. Telling ourselves that we don’t have a choice is the biggest lie of them all.

    I made excuses and created a hero version of myself that was doing it all for my family. My daughters didn’t need status. I needed that. All they needed was me. Some days the tears were flowing so much I couldn’t drive, so I sat in my car and I fixated on my hands. I wondered why my nails had it so easy.

    I was so close to understanding that growth is all we have to do. There’s no effort in growing or dying. These things are inevitable. We make it difficult because we choose to.

    My hair grew, and my heart beat without effort or understanding. These seemingly simple things understood a lot more about life than I did as a whole person.

    All I had to do was be, exist, experience, love, and have gratitude, but I didn’t. My struggle went on for years. It was far from the picturesque life I was trying to achieve. I chose to do it anyway.

    “Try to sleep, and you can’t sleep. You’ve got to let go. If you don’t, you’ll constantly try and keep yourself wound up.”

    I think about my struggle for success, working during the day and going to school at night. Missing my husband and my kids, I thought someday this would all get easier. When I think back on that time in my life, I never wish I had worked harder.

    I wish I had more memories with my family.

    Now I have everything I wanted back then, but it doesn’t feel like you’d think it would feel. What was I expecting? I didn’t feel any different than I always felt, except that I had a corner office, a fancier house, and nicer clothes.

    An ideally located office—this is what it all came down to in the end? It’s very anticlimactic when the new car smell wears off, and all you have is a large payment and more hours at work.

    We all think that when we’re at the top, everything should be amazing, but it’s not. Your children have grown older, and you don’t remember the little things.

    “…tomorrow and plans for tomorrow can have no significance at all unless you are in full contact with the reality of the present, since it is in the present and only in the present that you live.”

    You feel cheated of your time, cheated by time. Now you have to make up for it. You have to live, make the most of what you have left. So you set another goal.

    This time you’ll build memories and see places and do things you never got the chance to do. The list grows, and you wonder how you’ll get it all done and still make your large mortgage payment. You work more hours so you can do all this stuff “someday.” You’ve overwhelmed yourself again.

    You’re missing the point.

    Stop wanting more; be grateful for today. Live in the moment. Cherish your life and the time you have in this world. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, then it wasn’t meant to; let it go.

    “We think if we don’t interfere, it won’t happen.”

    There’s always an expectation, always something that has to get done. You pushed aside living so that you could live up to an expectation that doesn’t exist to anyone but you. The expectation is always there because you gave it power. To live, you’ve got to let it go.

    You save all your money so that you can retire. You live to retire. Then you get old, and you’re too tired to live up to the expectation you had of retirement; you never realize your dreams.

    At forty you felt cheated; at eighty you are cheated. You cheated yourself the whole way through to the end.

    “Your purpose was to dance until the end, but you were so focused on the end that you forgot to dance.”

    I quit my job at forty, I worked too much, and I never got the chance to live. I don’t have a powerful position. I have a job with less stress. I’m not holding the weight of the company on my shoulders. I also make a lot less money.

    I can work fewer hours and live with less stuff, but I’ll never get back what I’ve lost. Money, fancy cars, and a big house will never give back my time. The moments, the little things, live in the past; they’re gone.

    “Life should be easy and fun, effortless, but we rarely let it be what it is.”

    We’re always striving for more, never satisfied with where we are. More is always better. Happiness and fulfillment are always just out of reach. When we’re growing up, we strive to finish song school. Then the goal is college, then grad school. We have a family, and we live through the challenges of life, but we never stop to realize the grace in each moment. We never dance.

    Gratitude for life itself is still ahead of me. The song is still playing, and it’s never too late to live in the present and enjoy the dance.

  • Enjoy the Little Things

    Enjoy the Little Things

    Get Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal here.

  • Conscious Breathing: A Simple Way to Heal Your Pain and Be Present

    Conscious Breathing: A Simple Way to Heal Your Pain and Be Present

    “Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    I never gave much thought to my breath unless I was submerged under water for long periods without any.

    Today I rely on it for more than the obvious function of keeping me alive.

    Breathing has become my biggest tool and best friend.

    It has become a foundation for living with conscious presence and awareness.

    Breathing consciously has helped me overcome anxiety and has provided a gateway into peace.

    The breath has helped me move through long-buried emotions and trauma.

    When I try to exert control over outside conditions, my mind speeds up, I feel anxious and fearful, and I create false scenarios of doom and destruction.

    My biggest savior in this downward spiral has been breathing. Lying down, putting on some music, and beginning to breathe. Breathing in and out of my mouth. Taking in as much oxygen as possible, with no gaps between the inhalation and the exhalation.

    In the past, I have resorted to other means of dealing with this anxiety of my mind. Alcohol, drugs, and excessive exercising were some of my favorites.

    Today I have given all these other methods up, as they didn’t really work.

    What are some of the methods you use to quiet the mind? Do they serve you? Do they actually help or make things worse?

    In the past I was running away from feelings, trying to avoid the internal chaos.

    Breathing helps me move through the feelings and chaos.

    It sounds so simple, and it is.

    Through breathwork, my life has transformed.

    I used to be ready to defend myself at any moment. Really.

    Inside my body, I felt surges of adrenaline, as if an attacker was about to kill me. I was always on high alert, ready to pounce into action.

    The excessive exercise kept this adrenaline rolling at high levels all the time. I was addicted to it and almost felt like I needed it to survive.

    Eighteen months ago I began conscious connected breathwork. From my very first session, I was hooked. This was better than drugs.

    As a result of my breathing, all of my unconscious, buried cellular emotion started to surface. Unpleasant blacked-out memories from childhood, traumatic experiences—they all came rushing back.

    It became very clear then what I had been running from. I didn’t want to face those painful feelings.

    I made a commitment to myself, however, that I would continue to show up. I dropped the story. I dropped any goal of “fixing” myself and just let go.

    I decided I would be willing to lie down for an hour and breathe. Whatever happened from there was what needed to happen. I dropped the “poor me” drama that this horrible trauma had happened to me, and instead, I felt it.

    The terror, the anger, and the pain became my companions. Welcoming them in with open arms, I breathed through them—and they passed.

    I stopped, turned around, looked straight at these feelings, and took my power back.

    Today, I am not on the run anymore. My body doesn’t shake like it used to, and my legs aren’t constantly twitching up and down.

    I can sit still.

    I know now that when my mind starts to create drama, I can lie down and breathe.

    The clarity comes, the peace comes, and the feelings pass. I allow them, without trying to make them be any different.

    Is there something you are on the run from? Childhood abuse? A traumatic incident? Relationship heartbreak? What would happen if you faced it?

    What if the resistance to facing and feeling what you are avoiding is actually worse than going through it?

    What if under the mental obsession is fear, and under the fear is freedom?

    The obsessions of the mind are not real.

    They are fantasies created to take up mental space. Like watching a soap opera on TV, it takes us out of reality. It is a distraction.

    What if you decided to turn off the TV in your mind that is creating false dramas to keep it entertained and distracted?

    What would be in the space without the constant stream of mental soap operas?

    What I have found in this space is presence, peace, and grace. The feeling that everything is okay right here and now.

    Right here and now is all there is.

    I live in Bali and have an early morning 4:00am routine that consists of making a cup of coffee, writing, breathing, meditating, and praying. I honor the ancestors, then I drive on my motorbike to yoga and practice being present in the moment as I drive.

    Breathing with awareness helps me to be here now. It snaps me back into the moment.

    I notice and watch the sunrise.

    The early morning Balinese action is all happening on my way to yoga. The women making their offerings on the street, the children on their way to school, the dogs and chickens in the road, the men on their way to work in the rice paddies, and the local market buzzing with action—I take all this in as I drive.

    These moments matter. This is what I love about my life here in Bali. The everyday moments of life as they unfold.

    When in the present, gratitude erupts. Smiling inside, I feel whole and complete, and nothing else really matters.

    Breathing on my scooter, on a bus, while waiting in a line, I take five conscious breaths. Sometimes I count to five on the inhalation and count to five on the exhalation.

    This breathing practice comes with me everywhere I go.

    We all have the gift of breath. Use it. Become conscious of it.

    Turn off the mental TV and see what is truly there: A stunning sunset. Colorful flowers. Birds soaring. A happy child smiling.

    These moments are like snapshots that will never again be repeated. Missing these moments is missing life.

    Today we have a conscious choice to wake up out of the fog, wipe off the lenses, and see through the haze.

    The breath is our anchor. Use it to connect, to breathe through feelings without having to change them.

    Breathe into the emotions that scare you and allow them to come. Welcome them with open arms, and they will pass.

    The only way out is through, opening the doorway to presence and freedom.

    Breathing is our ticket into the present, our passage through the buried trauma of the past, and our vehicle to process difficult emotions.

    Conscious breathing is a life changer, accessible to all, and you can begin right now.

  • The First Steps Toward Creating a Life You Love

    The First Steps Toward Creating a Life You Love

    “My goal is to build a life I don’t need a vacation from.” ~Rob Hill Sr.

    The other day I had an interesting conversation with a friend, who asked me the question “Who is the happiest person you know?”

    Ask yourself this question now. It’s difficult to answer, isn’t it?

    There are certainly people around me who seem to be happy, but the happiest person I know? I couldn’t easily come up with an answer.

    The conversation with my friend proceeded with him saying, “You seem happy, but it’s so easy for you; you live in Cornwall by the sea, you work for yourself, and you have all the freedom in the world because you’re single.”

    It made me smile to think about how people perceive others’ lives. If you ask the next person they might say the absolute opposite: “It must be hard for you living so far away from anything, starting a heart-centered business from scratch with nothing. You must be so lonely being single and doing it all on your own.”

    And the truth is, all the above is true. I feel each and every variation of the above on occasions because I’m human! I think and dream just like a regular employed person, I love just like a married person, and feel and breathe just like a city dweller. We are all the same.

    But the conversation made me reflect on my own happiness. What does it mean to be happy? I feel the happiest I’ve ever been right now, whether I look at my life with glass-half-full or half-empty eyes. I asked myself why, and the only answer I could think of is, right now I feel authentic.

    I wake up each morning and my work feels like a joyful adventure, so I don’t have to drag myself through days, questioning the point of what I’m doing.

    Feeling complete deep down for the first time in my life soothes the loneliness of not being in a loving partnership right now, and walking the beach with my dog every morning watching the sunrise, instead of being on a packed London commuter train, makes my heart burst with happiness.

    This isn’t a recipe for happiness in any shape or form. These are just my things. My choices leading to the life I am creating for myself, from a place of authenticity.

    I have started to understand and accept that my life is up to me—my choices, my creation. The life I am living right now resulted from the choices I made before now, and yet they are no longer important; only the choices I make right now are. Right now I am free from the past but have a choice in creating my future.

    So often we look outward and feel trapped by things that aren’t real. For me it was my past, my CV, other people’s perceptions, my own fears, and those pesky little shoulds, from myself and others. Or we think that we’re slaves to the choices we made in the past. But the beauty of life is you always have a choice.

    I understand that some things in life we literally can’t change—maybe you’re a parent or caregiver or have other responsibilities that limit you—but you still have a choice.

    You can choose to resist and focus on the negative, the struggle, or you can choose to see differently, create opportunities for change, and ask for help. No matter what your life looks like right now, you can still create a life you love.

    I believe that everyone can dig deep to find out what feels right for them, be honest with themselves and others, and align their life with that place of authenticity.

    Perhaps you’re wondering, how an earth do I go about creating an authentic life? Where do I start? Well, this is obviously vastly different for everyone, but my advice would be to just start somewhere, and what better place than where you are right now?

    By that, I mean start by looking within.

    A simple daily meditation practice has changed my life, and I truly believe it can help anyone.

    Meditation, for me, is about carving out a few moments each day to sit quietly, breathe, connect with myself, and recognize my part to play in a bigger whole.

    Even if it’s just a few moments after I wake up or before I hop into bed at night, this is time free from distraction, free from the roles and responsibilities I identify myself with, free from the complications in life that I might identify as stress. It’s time for just me, to connect with myself and my truth.

    Creating a life you love is really about aligning your life with your own core values—those things that are most important to you personally. Regular meditation will help you discover what those are.

    It might also help to think about the activities you loved doing as a child and find some time to do one of those things one day soon. Express yourself and be creative—journal, draw, sing. Join an activity group, take a class, volunteer, be of service. Move your body with exercise or yoga.

    The point is to listen to yourself and take action on what you discover. Connect with how you really feel and use that as your guide when making choices so you can create a life you truly love.

    If you do this, you may eventually realize, as I did, that it doesn’t matter one teeny, tiny bit who the happiest person you know is; all that matters is that you’re happy with yourself and the life you’re living.

  • The Trick Is to Enjoy Your Life

    The Trick Is to Enjoy Your Life

    The trick is to enjoy life

  • Stop Waiting for Better Days Ahead

    Stop Waiting for Better Days Ahead

    Enjoy life

  • Why The Old Adage “Enjoy Every Moment” May Be More Harmful Than Helpful

    Why The Old Adage “Enjoy Every Moment” May Be More Harmful Than Helpful

    “In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present.” ~Francis Bacon

    One phrase my husband and I have heard often since becoming new parents—heck, since I was still waddling my way through my last trimester—is, “It goes so fast.” This is most often delivered by another more seasoned mother with an all-knowing shake of her head and a longing gaze at my once rotund belly, or now at our beautiful boy.

    We smile and nod, silently agreeing to the harsh reality of time. Which inevitably leads to the dreaded follow up, “Enjoy every moment!” This is usually spoken at a higher, more fervent, almost frantic timber as she smiles hugely at us.

    The thing is, I know she means well. I know that her child(ren) must be older and that she has undoubtedly forgotten the reality of the many difficulties with which new parents are faced as they begin to navigate the oftentimes muddy waters of raising a child.

    I also now know that because of the prevalence of phrases like, “Enjoy every moment,” many new parents are unable to reconcile the very real conflicting emotions of loving their children so much that at times it is hard to breathe, while at the same time feeling for any myriad of reasons like they don’t measure up. Or that because they aren’t, in fact, enjoying every minute, that they must somehow be failing as a parent and a person.

    A couple of months before my son was born I bumped into a friend who I hadn’t seen in a while. The typical conversation between a fairly new mother and woman in late stage pregnancy ensued.

    We discussed how I was feeling; she made a fleeting comment about her back labor, encouraging me to be open-minded about any birth plan I might have in place; and then she said something so outlandish and foreign that I couldn’t in that moment find the words with which to respond.

    She told me, with great certainty, that there would be things I would endure in the very near future that would be almost incomprehensibly difficult, and that in no way would I enjoy them all.

    I was stunned. But it wasn’t that she spoke the truth that stunned me; it was that everyone else I had come into contact with hadn’t.

    In that moment, I was more grateful to her than she’ll ever know. Right there, at the entrance to the grocery store, she granted me permission to honestly experience all that lie ahead on the bumpy, blissful path of motherhood.

    Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. At least not in those first few months when every cry my son emitted from his frighteningly fragile little body left me panic-stricken and absolutely sure that I was simply not cut out to be a mother.

    Not because I wasn’t doing every possible thing in my power to care for and nurture my boy. But because there is nothing enjoyable about massive hormonal shifts, staggering sleep deprivation, unexpected postpartum anxiety, and three bouts of excruciating mastitis.

    It wasn’t until my husband—bless his kind and patient heart—asked me, after one agonizingly long and sleepless night, what I had expected life with a newborn to be that I remembered my friend’s wise, and let’s face it, frightening words.

    I realized then my perception of what my experience as a new mother should be had become quite skewed. I also realized that it was thanks to all those well-meaning, “Enjoy every moment” comments that I found myself floundering to make sense of just how I was supposed to manage to do that—and if I was unable to, then surely there must be something inherently wrong with me.

    Maybe you think I’m being too literal. Surely everyone knows you can’t possibly enjoy every moment.

    Okay sure, I’ll give you that. But I’ll also argue that our words and thoughts carry great weight. And with that weight often comes unrealistic expectations, both of ourselves and of others. This is true for all of us in any given situation, parent or not.

    Plus, I think the issue runs deeper than simple semantics. Let’s face it, most of us have spent a large majority of our lives constructing often intricate and elaborate means of avoiding pain and discomfort.

    We go well out of our way to escape those pesky emotions that leave us feeling vulnerable. We choose, instead, to focus only on what we, and society as a whole, has deemed “good” or “positive” rather than risk putting our more “negative” thoughts and experiences out into the universe. You’ve heard this, right?

    While I am a staunch believer in the power we have to manifest and create our own reality, I am also convinced that we cannot simply bypass the harder, more uncomfortable aspects of the human experience.

    It is not surprising then, that it has been in my new role as both an ecstatic and scared new mother that I have found there is absolutely no place in which to escape from anything. After all, my child’s cries of discomfort and/or discontent cannot, in any language or universe, be denied. And this, I have found, is a good thing. It literally keeps him alive.

    Well, we were all babies once. Maybe there is a trace of that survival instinct still hibernating within each of us. Maybe our own fears and discomforts are coming up when necessary as a way to keep us alive, too. Or at the very least, to wake us up.

    During the first six euphoric and arduous months of my son’s life, I began to awaken to the paradox of my new situation.

    I had been granted the greatest gift I will ever receive in this life. It’s true. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Yet it is because of that very greatness that I was unable to allow for the intense feelings of discomfort I felt when faced with the very natural sense of overwhelm that comes with being a new mother.

    I, like many others in any number of life’s scenarios, believed that I had no right to feel the tough stuff when I was so obviously blessed with such a massive amount of good.

    But just as I believe we need the darkness to appreciate the light, I am also certain that I needed—and must continue—to allow myself to fully surrender to and move through those harder, oh so unenjoyable moments. For it was and is in the moments when I have thought I had nothing left to give that I learned just how good a mother I actually am.

    I have learned, time and again, the lengths I will go to for my son. I have abolished the limitations I unknowingly set for myself simply by being faced with staggeringly hard situations and circumstances.

    Ironically, It is because of these situations that I now trust myself and my capabilities more than ever before.

    It’s unreasonable to think we should enjoy every moment, and that if we don’t, we’re doing something wrong. So let yourself off the hook. You never know, it just might result in you enjoying life’s messy process and all the glorious moments in between that much more.

  • Enjoy the Little Things

    Enjoy the Little Things

    Enjoy the little things

  • Don’t Wait Everything to Be Perfect to Enjoy Your Life

    Don’t Wait Everything to Be Perfect to Enjoy Your Life

    Dont wait for everything to be perfect

  • Do. Focus. Enjoy.

    Do. Focus. Enjoy.

    The outcome will take care of itself