Tiny Buddha

Tag: enjoyment

  • You’re Never Too Old To Feel Inspired, Excited, and Alive

    You’re Never Too Old To Feel Inspired, Excited, and Alive

    “I do not want to get to the end of my life and find that I just lived the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.” ~Diane Ackerman 

    I’m in the business of watching people take risks. I observe them tackling challenges, fear, and discomfort, and sometimes, “making firsts” in their life.

    I observe a lot as a flight attendant, and sometimes wonder if my official title should rather be “Human Observer,” or “Social Experimenter.” It feels more accurate, or at least it’s the part that I typically enjoy the most. I’m also what’s called a “Death Doula” and hospice volunteer, both of which I consider to be more of a passion rather than a kind of “job” or “position.”

    I not only enjoy observing and assisting people through their living process, but also through their dying process. That includes everything in between. My interest in humans isn’t just with the young (who the media unfortunately tells us are the only “relevant ones”), but I rather have a special spot in my heart for the old and the dying.

    I experienced a rather benign interaction a couple of weeks ago, walking to my gate in the Salt Lake City Airport at the beginning of my work trip. As I was passing the TSA security area, a hunched elderly woman, slightly ahead of me, dropped all of her belongings. Her belongings included a small rollaboard and a large tote purse. Her bags were ripping at the seams with the items I’m sure she diligently chose ahead of time.

    My husband, who also happens to be a “Human Observer” with the same Human Observing company, was walking with me. The timing aligned perfectly—she dropped her bags, resulting in several items spilling out, and we, following right behind her, were ready to help pick up the pieces.

    It was just the interaction I needed at that time.

    As with any job, position, or career, it’s easy to feel “burnt out,” rundown, or simply uninspired, given the right circumstances. No matter how exciting your job or life may seem to other people, it’s your “normal,” but likewise, it’s your individual responsibility to keep that flame of inspiration burning.

    A similar idea can be true for what may seem like a “boring” life or “boring” job: it may be your ultimate passion and inspiration. Either way, life and circumstances ebb and flow. Sometimes you just need to get out of your own head and stop thinking about the same day-in, day-out rudimentary topics of your life.

    At the time, I had been feeling fairly lackluster. I’d been working more than normal and had barely had time to myself to contemplate and be introspective (which I desperately need on a regular basis), let alone time to even be home. This interaction changed things for me in that moment and has stuck with me since.

    It was clear that she was traveling solo. I helped pick up her dropped rollaboard luggage as my husband started helping with her tote bag. I noticed that some of the items that dropped from her bags were French language and culture-related books. She was disorganized, no rhyme or reason for any items’ place, and you could tell she used every inch of space possible.

    “I’m going to Paris for a month, and I’ve never traveled before! This is everything I’m bringing!” She exclaimed, her smiling face closely looking up at me. I’ll never forget her look—that wrinkled, rough face with a peeling nose, disheveled short hair, and haphazardly put-together outfit. She was ecstatic, and it almost seemed as if she had been waiting to tell someone—anyone—about what adventures she was about to embark upon.

    As my husband worked on putting some items back in order, quietly talking to himself (“these will just fall out again if we don’t put them here”), I told her how excited I was for her and how amazing it is that she is doing this—going for it. Her excitement radiated onto me, and I couldn’t help but feel absolutely elated for her.

    We exchanged some additional niceties, and we helped her find her departure gate. For the next several minutes after parting ways, I had the biggest, dumbest smile stuck on my face.

    I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall (plane “wall” or otherwise) throughout her journey—to see her sense of wonder and curiosity with everyone and everything she was to encounter. I think about her now, conscious of the fact that she’s exactly halfway into her journey.

    This entire interaction then made me wonder, “What was it in her life that served as the catalyst for this decision of hers?” What made her decide, “Yep, this is the time. I’m just going to go for it. What have I got to lose?” She didn’t look like your stereotypical “adventurer.” She wasn’t trying to be anyone but herself.

    In a modern world where the young, adventurous ones are on Tik Tok, YouTube, or Instagram, it was refreshing to see a normal, mature person just going for it. I see and experience examples of this kind of thing on a regular basis, but I guess I just wish that perhaps someone from a younger generation who may be insecure about the direction of their life could experience these things with me.

    As much as I’ve experienced those who are brave and taking up hobbies or doing things that inspire them, I’ve also seen the opposite: those who are afraid of the new. It seems as if people get settled in their ways and end up saying to themselves, “Welp, this is it. This is my life now.”

    But why do we do that? It seems so counterintuitive to how life should be: full of exploration and wonder. I don’t think this is a particularly new or modern concept. I don’t think it’s because of social media that more mature folks aren’t taking risks or taking up hobbies they genuinely enjoy.

    This is not to say that I think everyone should get on a plane and go to Paris. Traveling isn’t inspiring for everyone. For some, perhaps the exhaustion or the stress outweigh any benefit. To each their own. Perhaps your version of exploring curiosity or wonder is creating a garden, deciding to read more, finally getting into stand-up comedy, going outside more, or digging into that sourdough bread kit.

    Deciding to lead a life full of exploration and wonder doesn’t need to fit a particular theme. It’s getting out there (or staying in there) and doing what inspires you. It’s doing it for you—no one else. And sometimes it may take a catalyst against your will to make something happen.

    I can’t assume that it was something perceived as “negative” that happened to our Parisian friend that made her, for the first time ever, embark on a month-long trip across the world. But I find it fun to explore the possibilities.

    Many may also say they have a fear of “failure,” but what are we defining as “failure?” Does “failure” even exist if you’re actively enjoying yourself and not doing it for anyone else? You’re never too old to find inspiration—whether it be through a hobby, an activity, or through others. Our lives and deaths are constantly in cycle. That cycle is always in motion. You’ve got to keep moving.

    I think Ms. Paris, who I admire so, knew this. We didn’t need to have this particular conversation for me to know that.

  • Stay in the Right Lane: Let Yourself Slow Down and Enjoy Life

    Stay in the Right Lane: Let Yourself Slow Down and Enjoy Life

    “I don’t want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.” ~Diane Ackerman

    Wow! My last weeks of my career. Though many days and weeks over the last thirty-four years have seemed to last forever, it truly is astonishing how fast time goes. And don’t we often try to make it go even faster?

    Our jobs are stressful. We are often under tight time constraints and deadlines. We have clients and associates who want and need things yesterday.

    We work in jobs we have very little control over. Add that to our daily responsibilities as parents, spouses, partners, friends, children to aging parents and—not to be forgotten—ourselves. It’s a lot.

    Maybe you are like me. When I was younger, I too often:

    • wanted to fast-forward to a new day, a new week, or a new season of life
    • wished time away
    • focused on that vacation that was months away
    • couldn’t wait until my kids were older
    • had my eye on that next job
    • sought to get through tough circumstances I was facing, or
    • desired to be where someone else was in life

    What did it cost me? Memories and opportunities. I don’t remember many details of when my kids were growing up because I was always thinking ahead. I was not in the moment.

    I missed opportunities to learn and grow because I was always focused on that next thing instead of learning what could help me in that next thing.

    I missed all the beauty this earth has to offer because I was driving too fast.

    It cost me time. I wished away something I can never get back. It cost me the fun of simply living life, my life.

    It has taken me sixty-five years on earth to figure out how to make every moment count. And, if I’m honest, it’s something I must work at every day.

    “Don’t focus on making each moment perfect, focus on the perfection each moment provides, be it a good one, or not so good one.” ~Jenna Kutcher

    Notice that I didn’t say “make every moment happy, productive, or memorable.” Just make it count. Be in it. Live it.

    There are many moments that aren’t happy. In fact, they can be downright sorrowful or exhausting. But, at the same time, they help shape you and enable you to grow.

    I missed many good moments in my life because I was too focused on making the ending happy or perfect to enjoy what was happening right before my eyes.

    A few years ago, my son and I met up with a good friend of mine. We started talking about our kids and what fun it was to go to all of their events when they were younger. I was pounding my chest by bragging about being at all of their events.

    My son, to his credit, challenged me. He said I was there physically, but I wasn’t really there. He told my friend I was always on my phone, or otherwise preoccupied. He was right. I was there but I can’t tell you about the goals they scored, the amazing moves they made, or the songs they sang. It was like a dagger went through my heart. But it was true.

    My dear friend Doug told me a great way he is trying to live right now. He said, “stay in the right lane.” I love that. We often want to get somewhere fast, so we pull into the left lane and zoom past everything to get to the destination. 

    I did that most of my life, in all areas of my life. As I start to live in the right lane, I am having an easier time being more in the moment. I am being intentional.

    I start my day with a routine of praying, journaling, exercising, and setting my focus to not be on one or two things, but to be awed by the wonder of what I might encounter. I intentionally set aside days where I do not have a set schedule.

    As I am more in the moment, I am experiencing all sorts of beauty, joy, amazement, clarity, purposefulness, happiness, and opportunity.

    When you look at my photo library, you will see mostly pictures of bugs, birds, flowers, and trees from my walks. My mind has space to be creative and I am finding clarity on the things I want to do in this season of life, for me. My relationships are flourishing because I am actually there, truly experiencing another person.

    Being present has also allowed me to see myself for more of who I am. I have often said I never felt I was good enough. I felt I had to do more in order to be enough. Now that I have more clarity on who I am, I want to do more, because I am enough. I realize that no matter what I do from here on out, I am good enough. Because of who I am, not what I do.

    Many have asked what I will do in retirement. Like, retirement is the end, so how will you live to the end? I am looking at it more as a transition into the next leg of my journey.

    I am going to continue to live in the right lane, enjoy every moment, create and experience new moments, and focus on the journey itself, not the destination. I plan to live as Laurie Santos puts it, “be happy in my life, and with my life.”

    “The most dangerous risk of all…is the risk of spending your life not doing what you want, on the bet you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.” ~Randy Komisar

    So how do you do that? It isn’t always easy.

    Have good self-awareness (know yourself and trust yourself). Be intentional. Make time for the people and things that matter. Make the time to think about what you really want in life.

    And slow yourself down.

  • 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.

  • What Happiness Means and How I’m Boosting My Day-to-Day Joy

    What Happiness Means and How I’m Boosting My Day-to-Day Joy

    “Don’t let this silly world trick you into starving your soul for material things. Cause someday you’re gonna be sitting out under the sun and realize how little you actually need to be truly happy.” ~Brooke Hampton

    Three years ago, at the height of pandemic, I made many pitchers of lemonade from scratch. This newfound ritual was one of the better things about being on lockdown.

    I’d hand squeeze a big bag of lemons for about one-third cup of juice, and experiment by adding vanilla extract, mint, and tablespoons of honey. I’d bring my drink outside, where I sat for as long as I dared in a lawn chair, sipping the elixir and daydreaming. It made me oddly happy, and even after a return to normal, I still like to indulge myself this way.

    My family wanders outside to check on me when I burn up a Saturday—and sometimes dinner—doing this. I’m just as annoyed as they are by the intrusion, little decorated paper straw sticking out of my glass, open book from Target on my lap.

    Isn’t that kind of expensive, my mother asked me once, and I had to laugh because the answer to that question is both yes and no.

    Does self-care cost the same as going out to a really nice meal, a vacation, clothes shopping? No. Then again, sitting for long periods, with a cold drink in your hand and doing absolutely ‘f-ck all’ as my teenaged son would say, isn’t how you’re going to afford a full and active lifestyle.

    I began to wonder if having fun and happiness are the same thing.

    I interviewed about a half dozen people on the subject, from therapists to friends—most were of the opinion that having fun and being happy are not mutually exclusive.

    “We don’t talk about our happiness. When we’re happy we’re busy being happy, and the unimportant things fade away. I never could keep a journal outside of the bad periods, because I forgot to write it down when the good was happening,” wrote a friend on Twitter.

    Dr. Sigmund Freud boiled happiness down to instant gratification:

    “What we call happiness, in the strictest sense, comes from the (preferably sudden) satisfaction of needs which have been dammed up to a high degree.”

    I think when I was a kid, I embodied Freud’s words. At age ten, I was the proverbial lab rat, pressing again and again on the same bar, hoping instant gratification would come out.

    Benny’s Oyster Bar in 1983 was that pellet. My family didn’t have much money at the time, so it was a real treat when we ate out.

    A hole in the wall, Benny’s was about two blocks from my Dad’s office, yet I can’t remember if we walked there or drove. In my unsophisticated mind, that restaurant—now a bike repair shop—was the best place on earth for hotdogs and crinkle cut fries drenched in ketchup that you squeezed from a bottle, while listening to a jukebox that competed (and lost) to noisy air-conditioning.

    We always chose to go there on a whim, and it only happened about four out of every ten times we were dragged to my dad’s place of business.

    He sold insurance, relying on my mom for clerical help. If we went to Benny’s, it usually meant my dad was having a good day.

    Thinking back on Benny’s makes me see that one of the main components to happiness is feeling safe and loved in equal measure.

    It didn’t have to be a trip to Benny’s Oyster Bar to make me practically swoon with happiness as a kid. Sometimes it was pretending to be mermaids in my friend’s pool, binge watching The Smurfs, or spending time with my cat.

    As an adult, my happiest moments remain just as uncomplicated.

    I’m a good guinea pig for this happiness experiment since I’ve never actually been depressed. That being said, I’ve only been “truly happy” a handful of times—my it doesn’t get any better than this moments slipping through my fingers before I’m aware they ever happened.

    I asked a psychologist, who works for a Florida county school board, how he’d define happiness.

    “Happiness can be one of the four core emotions. It involves dopamine hits to your hypothalamus. Easy. Then you have the cerebral cortex interpreting that which makes humans more of a pain in the ass to understand,” he said.

    What I took from this is that human happiness can be as unique as our thumbprints. It’s difficult to define, no matter who you are or where you come from.

    An artist I know put it this way:

    “Personally, I believe happiness is fleeting. I’m trying on using the idea of contentment instead. Am I content? Are there ways I can work on aspects to be more content in my life?”

    She may be on to something.

    I’m sure we’ve all heard expectation is the root of suffering, so maybe instead of expecting anything to make us happy all the time, we just need to prioritize the things that bring us joy—even if they look like “wasting time” to everyone else. Then we could visit our happy places more often and stay as long as we like when we get there.

  • How to Reclaim Your Joy After the Pandemic: 3 Things That Helped Me

    How to Reclaim Your Joy After the Pandemic: 3 Things That Helped Me

    DISCLAIMER: Though vaccines have allowed many of us to return to more normal activities, the pandemic isn’t over, and it’s still crucial that we all follow the evolving CDC guidelines to keep both ourselves and others safe.

    “Perfect happiness is a beautiful sunset, the giggle of a grandchild, the first snowfall. It’s the little things that make happy moments, not the grand events. Joy comes in sips, not gulps.” ~Sharon Draper

    It was a rainy, late Sunday afternoon. The sun was already going down, and it was getting dark outside.

    “How are you?”

    “Oh, good. Nothing special. It’s quiet,” my mom responded when I called her a couple of months ago.

    “It’s quiet” had been her response for the past two years, possibly before that. My mom is retired. Since the pandemic, her life became even more “quiet” than before—fewer friends, fewer activities, less fun.

    I’m not retired, but I work from home, and the same happened to me. To some degree, I let it happen.

    I got used to not seeing people, not laughing, and not dancing. I got used to being alone, and it became more comfortable to stay home on Saturdays than going out for social activities. Was I developing a mild form of social anxiety? Maybe.

    Two things were for certain: my social skills had atrophied, and I had forgotten how to have fun. What was joy like?

    “I feel like this must be what it’s like for the elderly; when no one visits them and they don’t have many friends and activities, they sort of start dying inside.”

    “That’s how I feel right now,” my mom responded.

    Have you experienced that too at some point? Not feeling like doing anything and seeing people because you forgot how to connect with them and what you even enjoy doing?

    “I think it’s a slippery slope. We should do something about it. We should make an effort to break the pattern and start socializing and doing activities again before we die inside,” I told my mom.

    After hanging up the phone, I reflected upon what I had just said. I knew that “shoulds” wouldn’t make the situation better; I had to be proactive and do something about it. I took out a pen and a notebook and started writing an action plan.

    Here are the three things I wrote down that day that have most helped me to reclaim a sense of joy in my life.

    1. Do one thing on your list of “joys.”

    A piece of advice that was very helpful came from a friend who lost his partner to cancer a couple of years ago, just a few months after she was diagnosed.

    It was a shock to him. They had projects together, like buying a campervan, traveling around North America, and building a house off-grid. Suddenly, those plans were gone, and my friend had to learn to live alone again while coping with grief.

    One thing that helped him get out of depression and slowly regain his spark for life was to make a list of things that made him happy (even just a little). Every day for the next three months, he did as many things on his list as he could.

    I took that advice and created my list of fifteen “little joys.”

    They’re not complicated. They include things like watching the sunset, reading a book while drinking a mocha latte in the morning, walking in nature, wearing my favorite outfit, dancing to progressive trance music in my living room, and watching funny dog videos.

    Every day, I picked at least three things on my list to do that day; if I could do more, great! But I did at least three. Over a few days, this simple practice started making me feel happier.

    Of course, you’ll first have to create your own list of “joys,” but once you have it, it’s a wonderful tool to bring more joy into your daily life.

    2. Do one thing to trigger the “helper’s high.”

    Another thing that significantly impacted my mood and energy was to do one act of kindness every day.

    I had read articles about the science of altruism and happiness, and I knew that helping or being kind to others makes us happy. There’s even a specific term for it: the “helper’s high.”

    I began asking myself every morning, “What’s one act of kindness I will do today?”

    Since I don’t always feel creative first thing in the morning, I made a list of fifteen acts of kindness ideas that I could choose from. Like my list of “joys,” they aren’t complicated. They include writing a nice comment on someone’s Tik Tok video, posting an uplifting quote on Facebook, and complimenting someone.

    Just doing this one thing, intentionally, every day made me feel more alive. But in case you don’t feel inspired to do one act of kindness a day, here’s another idea.

    Another thing I started doing recently, which I learned from Tim Ferriss’s book Tools of Titans, is a ten-second loving-kindness exercise created by Chade-Meng Tan, the man behind the popular mindfulness-based emotional intelligence course for employees at Google called Search Inside Yourself.

    The exercise is very simple: A few times a day, randomly choose two people you see and secretly wish for each of them to be happy. You don’t have to do or say anything—just think, “I wish you to be happy,” with a sincere intention from your heart.

    I find both the ten-second loving-kindness exercise and doing one act of kindness a day therapeutic. They take our focus away from our problems and increase our sense of connection to others, even when the act of kindness is anonymous, and we don’t physically interact with the person.

    3. Do one thing every day to nurture your social circle.

    It took me some time to realize that my mental health was being affected by a sense of isolation. I’m an introvert and enjoy my own company. It wasn’t obvious that my desire to eat more ice cream than usual and my lack of motivation to get out of bed in the morning had something to do with spending too much time alone.

    Some weeks during the height of the pandemic, I talked to no one except my clients on Zoom and the cashier at the grocery store. And the more time I spent alone, the less I wanted to see people. The idea of socializing began to feel daunting, and I chose to stay home (alone) more and more often.

    But it was killing me inside. I had to break the solitude pattern before the hole I was digging and putting myself in became too deep.

    I started small but did something every day to revive my social life.

    One day, I commented on an acquaintance’s Facebook post. Another day, I messaged a friend on Messenger. The following week, that friend suggested we go for lunch, and I went.

    Friendships must be nurtured to grow stronger and thrive; otherwise, they atrophy.

    So, perhaps you can ask yourself every day, “What’s one thing I can do today to nurture and expand my social circle?”

    Start small.

    —

    I did a few other things to bring more joy into my life in the past few months as well, like taking on a new hobby (learning to play the djembe) and attending social events every other week. But the three actions I mentioned in this article are the ones that made the most significant difference in my well-being in the long run.

    What do you do to feel alive and inspired? Share with us in the comments so we can all benefit from each other’s wisdom.

  • How I Overcame the Stress of Perfectionism by Learning to Play Again

    How I Overcame the Stress of Perfectionism by Learning to Play Again

    “What, then, is the right way of living? Life must be lived as play…” ~Plato

    I am a recovering perfectionist, and learning to play again saved me.

    Like many children, I remember playing a lot when I was younger and being filled with a sense of openness, curiosity, and joy toward life.

    I was fortunate to grow up in Oregon with a large extended family with a lot of cousins with whom I got to play regularly. We spent hours, playing hide-and-seek, climbing trees, drawing, and building forts.

    I also attended a wonderful public school that encouraged play. We had regular recess, and had all sorts of fun equipment like stilts, unicycles, monkey bars, and roller skates to play with. In class, our teachers did a lot of imaginative and artistic activities with us that connected academics with a sense of playfulness.

    I viewed every day as an exciting opportunity and remember thinking, “You just never know what is going to happen.” My natural state was to be present with myself, enjoying the process of play

    Unfortunately, my attitude began shifting from playfulness to perfectionism early on. Instead of being present and enjoying process, I started focusing on performance (mainly impressing people) and product (doing everything right). The more I did this, the less open, curious, and joyful I was.

    Instead, I grew anxious, critical, and discouraged.

    I first remember developing perfectionist tendencies when I was in elementary school and taking piano lessons. For some reason, I got the idea that I had to perform songs perfectly, or else I was a failure.

    Eventually I became so anxious, I would freeze up while playing in recitals. I started hating piano, which I once had loved, and eventually quit.

    My perfectionism spread into other areas of my life, too. In school, I pushed myself to get straight A’s, and if I earned anything less, I felt like a failure. I often missed out on the joy of learning because I was so worried about getting things right.

    My perfectionism also negatively impacted my relationship with myself. I believed I had to look perfect all the time. As a result, I often hated the way I looked, rather than learning to appreciate my own unique appearance and beauty. I also remembering turning play into exercise at this time of my life and using it to pursue the “perfect” body.

    Movement, which I loved when I was a child, began to feel exhausting and punishing.

    Perfectionism also hurt my relationships with other people. I felt like I had to be smooth and put together and that I always had to put everyone else’s needs above my own. Not surprisingly, I often felt unconfident, anxious, and exhausted around other people.

    At this time in my life, I believed that if I tried and worked hard enough, I could do everything right, look perfect, and make everyone happy.

    My perfectionism increased in young adulthood until eventually it became unsustainable. In my early thirties, I became the principal of a small, private middle school where I had taught for eight years. I loved the school and was devoted to it.

    In many ways, I was the ideal person to do the job. But I was also young and inexperienced, and I made some big mistakes early on. I also made some decisions that were good and reasonable decisions that, for various reasons, angered a lot of people.

    To complicate matters, the year I became middle school principal, the school underwent a massive change in our school’s overall leadership, and we suffered a tragic death in the community. I worked as hard as I could to help my school through this difficult time, but things felt apart.

    My school, which had largely been a happy and joyful place, suddenly became filled with fighting, suspicion, and stress. These events were largely beyond my control and were not the fault of any one person, but I blamed myself. For someone who had believed her whole life that if she worked hard enough, she could avoid making mistakes and could make people happy, my job stress felt devastating.

    I felt like my life was spinning out of control and that all the rules that once worked no longer applied. I crashed emotionally, and I remember telling my husband at this time, “I will never be happy again.”

    That was one of the darkest times of my life.

    It took me several years to find happiness again. One of the major things that helped me to do so was recovering a sense of playfulness.

    After my emotional crash, I decided I was done with perfectionism. I understood clearly that focusing so much on avoiding mistakes and pleasing-people was the source of much of my suffering. 

    I realized I needed a different way to approach life.

    About this time, my friend Amy and I started taking fencing lessons together. I was quite bad at it, but it didn’t matter. Because I had given up perfectionism, I didn’t care anymore about impressing people at fencing class or performing perfect fencing moves.

    Instead, I cared about being present with myself in the process and staying open and curious, and focusing on joy.

    I had a blast. I felt free and alive, and something flickered to life inside me that had felt dormant for many years. I felt playful again. And I realized that I had been missing playfulness for many years, and that it was part of what had caused me to become so perfectionistic.

    Playfulness is the attitude we take toward life when we focus on presence and process with attitudes of openness, curiosity, and joy. Perfectionism, on the other hand, makes us focus on performance and product and encourages anxiety, criticalness, and discouragement.

    Fencing helped me rediscover play and leave perfectionism behind.

    I fully embraced my newfound playful attitude. It touched every area of my life, and I hungered for new adventures. I began reconnecting with dreams I had put on hold for a while. Eventually I decided to leave my job as a middle school principal and return to graduate school to earn my PhD in philosophy, a goal I’d had since seventh grade.

    Earning a PhD in philosophy may not seem like a very playful thing to do, but it was for me. For six years, I immersed myself in the ideas of great thinkers like Plato, Aristotle, Kant, Hegel, Rousseau, Herbert Marcuse, and Paulo Freire.

    It felt like I was playing on a big, philosophical playground. But I also faced some significant challenges.

    I was thirty-seven when I returned to grad school and was a good ten to fifteen years older than most of my colleagues. Most of them had a B.A. and even an M.A. in philosophy, while I had only taken one philosophy course in college. I had a lot of catching up to do, and I faced some major challenges.

    One of the biggest challenges I faced early on was our program’s comprehensive exams. We had two major exams over thousands of pages of some of the hardest philosophical works ever written. The exams were so difficult that at one point, they had over a fifty percent fail rate. If students didn’t pass them by the third time, the graduate school kicked them out of the program.

    I was determined to pass these comps and spent all my Christmas and summer breaks studying for them for the first several years of graduate school. But I still failed both exams the first time I took them, and I failed my second exam twice.

    It isn’t surprising I failed them, given the high fail rate for the exams and the fact that I was still learning philosophy. But it was painful. I had worked so hard, and I was afraid of getting kicked out of the program.

    I was tempted to revert to my old perfectionist habits because they had once given me a sense of control. But I knew that would lead me down a dead-end road. So, I began applying all the lessons I had learned about playfulness to the comprehensive exams.  

    Rather than focusing on performance and the product, I focused on presence and process. I also focused on practicing habits of openness, curiosity, and joy. Mentally, I compared the comps to shooting an arrow into the bull’s eye of a target. Every test, even if I failed it, was a chance to check my progress, readjust, and get closer to the bull’s eye.

    This turned the comprehensive exams into a game, and it lessened the pain of failing them. It helped me accept failure as a normal part of the process and to congratulate myself every time I made progress, no matter how small it was. This attitude also helped me focus on proactive, constructive steps I could take to do better, like meeting with faculty members or getting tutoring in areas I found especially challenging. (Aristotle’s metaphysics, anyone?)

    I also taught myself to juggle during this time. Juggling not only relieved stress, it was also a playful bodily reminder to me that progress takes time. Nobody juggles perfectly the first time they try. Juggling takes time and patience, and the more we focus on openness, curiosity, and the joy of juggling, the more juggling practice feels like a fun game. 

    I began thinking of passing my comps like juggling, and it helped me be more patient with the process. I eventually mastered the material and passed both my comps.

    Studying for the comps taught me to bring playfulness into all my work in graduate school.

    Whenever I felt stressed out in my program, I reminded myself that perfectionism was a dead-end road, and that playfulness was a much better approach. Doing this helped me relax, be kind to myself, accept failures as part of the learning process, and to take small consistent steps to improve.

    This playful attitude kept me sane and helped me make it to the finish line.

    Playfulness was so helpful for me in graduate school that I have tried to adopt this spirit of playfulness in all areas of my life, including the college classrooms in which I teach. I have noticed that whenever I help students switch from perfectionism to playfulness, they immediately relax, are kinder to themselves, and increase their ability to ask for help.

    I am dedicated now to practicing playfulness every day of my life and to help others do the same. Playfulness isn’t something we must leave behind in childhood. It is an attitude we can bring with us our whole life. When we do so, life becomes an adventure, even during difficult times, and there is always something more to learn, explore, and savor.

  • You Can Still Enjoy Your Life

    You Can Still Enjoy Your Life

    You can still enjoy your life

  • 50 Cheap, Creative Ways to Have Fun

    50 Cheap, Creative Ways to Have Fun

    “Never let lack of money interfere with having fun.” ~Unknown

    Back when we were young we may have asked our parents for money to do things, but more often than not we found creative ways to have fun without spending a dime.

    At least I know I did.

    My cousins and I turned their bulkhead cellar doors into a slide—and the main attraction of our DIY amusement park.

    We turned cardboard paper towel rolls and rice-filled soda bottles into instruments, and entertained ourselves for hours on end. Okay, maybe not hours, but you get the point.

    We didn’t wait for overtime or vacation weeks to have fun. It didn’t really matter what we did. All that mattered is that we were together, and we were fully committed to enjoying ourselves.

    I highly doubt I’d spend one of my adult Saturdays banging on a homemade coffee can drum, but there’s something to be said for getting a little creative with your downtime—especially since a lot of us spend a great deal of time immersed in routines and technology.

    If you’re looking for some cheap, creative ways to enjoy the weekend—or perhaps an upcoming weekday you’ve chosen to liberate—I recommend:

    Have Fun Outside

    1. Take a “flip the penny” hike in the woods. Assign each side as right or left, and then when you come to a fork in the road, flip to see which way you go. (Just make sure you keep track of where you’re going so you don’t get lost.)

    2. Host a modern scavenger hunt, using technology.

    3. Have a picnic in the park and ask everyone to make something from scratch.

    4. Make your own kite, then head to the beach to fly it.

    5. Take up urban foraging—the act of picking free fruits, vegetables, and edible plant life around your city, where sanctioned.

    6. Start a nature collection—collect interesting shaped rocks or shells—and spend the day getting it started.

    7. Start a garden on the cheap using some clever ideas from TheStreet.com.

    8. Download a bike map app for your iPhone and explore a new area.

    9. Have a nostalgia hunt at a flea market. Look for GI Joes, My Little Ponies, Cabbage Patch Kids, or anything else you loved as a kid.

    10. Go geocaching—a “high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers.”

    Have Fun with Food

    11. Swap family recipes with a friend and make each other’s to enjoy together.

    12. Make ingredients gifts for upcoming birthdays and events—get a jar, decorate it, and then layer cookie ingredients inside.

    13. Have a cookie swap party. Everyone makes a dozen and goes home with a dozen of all different types of cookies.

    14. Take turns hosting dinners with friends. It’s much less expensive than going out to eat, and it gives everyone a turn to host.

    15. Host pot luck dinners based on food themes. Everyone brings something Italian, and the next time Thai, and the next time Chinese.

    16. Have a food art party—everyone needs to bring something that’s both edible and creative.

    17. Have a budget food contest. Everyone has to cook a dish spending no more than $5 or $10. Eat and vote on the best budget dish!

    18. Start your own Julie and Julia project—grab a cookbook, start working your way through it, and blog about it as you go.

    19. Make a recipe book of all your favorite dishes to give to someone you love.

    20. Have an ugly cake contest. Have all of your friends make a desert, and then before you enjoy them together, vote on which is the ugliest!

    Have Fun with Entertainment

    21. Have a karaoke night using the YouTube karaoke channel.

    22. Look on Craigslist for your area to see if there are any free concerts going on in nearby parks.

    23. Have a movie marathon with one or two friends where everyone brings their favorite DVD.

    24. Have an independent-film marathon, watching free indie videos online.

    25. Spend a day looking for free street performances in the nearest big city. In the summer particularly, there’s a ton!

    26. Host your own open mic night and invite all your most talented musician, comedian, and poet friends.

    27. Have a culture day—visit a museum on a free day, listen to classical music on the way, and watch a classic movie in the evening.

    28. Call your local theater to see if they take volunteer ushers. Many theaters give free tickets to volunteers who either seat guests or clean up post-performance.

    29. If you have children, host a family barbecue where the adults catch up while the kids come up with a little show to perform later in the evening. (My favorite childhood memories all involve a show with the cousins!)

    30. Use Facebook to get a group together for a flash mob. You’ll need a lot of people—and undoubtedly, this requires work—but it can be a ton of fun to prepare and carry out! Here are 15 flash mob videos to get the creative juices flowing.

    Have Fun by Trading

    31. Host a clothes swap day where everyone brings clothing and accessories they no longer want, and everyone goes home with something new. (This may be more for the ladies.)

    32. Exchange homes for a night. When you’re staying at your friend’s high-rise condo and she’s decompressing in your claw-foot tub, a relaxing night in will have a whole new sense of excitement.

    33. Trade gear—let your friend use your bike while you learn to rollerblade.

    34. Trade books with a friend and then get together to discuss the most insightful, helpful, or entertaining parts.

    35. Have a board game night where everyone brings their favorite game. (Okay, so this is more sharing than trading).

    36. Trade your services for someone else’s. Offer to help your painter friend set up a website in exchange for painting your bedroom. It will be a fun, free, productive afternoon!

    37. Have a no-money garage sale on a sunny afternoon. List on Craigslist everything that you have that you’d like to get rid of, and include a list of everything you want in exchange.

    38. Trade ideas. Ask your friend to share his or her favorite way to spend a day off, then you share yours. You can either do them separately and report back to each other, or do them together on two respective off days.

    39. Trade videos with a loved one who lives far away. Each of you plan a day of fun, without telling each other what it will entail. Then go through the day with the intention of creating a joy-filled video to send the other one later that evening.

    40. Trade blogs. You host your friend’s blog for a day and let him or her host yours. If you both write about different niches, this is an incentive to try something new so that you can write about it.

    Have Fun by Giving Back

    41. Create a digital product about something you enjoy and donate the proceeds to charity.

    42. Host a free webinar sharing something that you’re passionate about.

    43. Sign up to be a volunteer dog walker through the SPCA. (You can also help organize fundraising events, provide general animal care, and assist with grooming, among other things.)

    44. Call your local children’s hospital and see if you can host a sing-a-long or come dressed up as a clown to spread cheer. (Contributor Harriet Cabelly did something similar through Patch Adams international clowning trips.)

    45. Volunteer to help with events at your local zoo. Some zoos require an extensive time commitment, but others take short-term volunteers for specific events.

    46. Be an unofficial park volunteer for a day. In between relaxing and reading books on the grass, pick up litter to keep the area clean.

    47. Use Charity Navigator to find a local charity that you can trust, and then get involved starting today.

    48. Help an elderly neighbor with her garden, or with another chore that you generally enjoy doing.

    49. Lead or participate in a midnight run to help the homeless.

    50. Have a bake sale with friends in your neighborhood, then donate the proceeds to your favorite charity.

    Have anything to add to the list?

  • Stop Focusing on Lack to Fully Enjoy Your Experiences

    Stop Focusing on Lack to Fully Enjoy Your Experiences

    “Not what we have but what we enjoy constitutes our abundance.” ~Epicurus

    Yoga retreats in rural getaways nestled in tropical mountain spaces. Exploration trips for pleasure and business on the east and west coasts. Bike riding and people watching on Santa Monica Boulevard.

    Recognition and sponsorship from leaders in my professional circle. Adventures with my husband and daughters in Jamaica.

    Even with all these rich life experiences, still my focus was always the same: If I could just have more money, my life could finally get good.

    The past year found me deep on a journey to discover the muted parts of my life.

    Through meditation, exercise, candid conversations, and radical self-expression, I’ve learned so much about myself, the influence my past has had on my present, and the ways in which I’ve been hiding.

    Some of these revelations have been stark, not the least of which is the realization that a good chunk of my mutedness is rooted in one five-letter word: money.

    For most of us, it’s inarguable that we need money to cover our day-to-day lives. 

    Even with my minimalist tendencies, I’m not one to give away the majority of all I own and take a vow of poverty. Truth is, I’m way too attached to shoes, obnoxiously loud colors of nail polish, and unconstructed blazers to fully adopt the less-is-more philosophy.

    I can say though, that the more I release from my life (both physically and emotionally), the more access I gain to my Higher Self. 

    This access opened my eyes to a finding that has already created significant changes in my relationship with the energy of money. I’ve made it one of my daily life chants:

    While you design your best life,

    don’t chase the money,

    crave the experience.

    I’ve always chased money. More specifically, I’ve always viewed my connection with money akin to patches of grass. I’d earn enough to cover a bit of ground, but never enough to cover a respectable-sized lawn.  (more…)

  • How to Enjoy Food More: 7 Tips to Savor Meals

    How to Enjoy Food More: 7 Tips to Savor Meals

    “We are indeed much more than what we eat, but what we eat can nevertheless help us to be much more than what we are.” –Adelle Davis

    As I mentioned before in my blog post about needing less money, I recently decided to offer barter advertising through Tiny Buddha—meaning I plan to promote products and services I support in exchange for things I need.

    This week I started my first barter arrangement with L.O.V.E. Delivery, a company here in Los Angeles that delivers organic produce right to your door.

    Before my first shipment arrived two days ago, I actually found myself anticipating its arrival with giddy enthusiasm, like a kid on Christmas.

    It was kind of exciting to know I’d be getting a more diverse assortment of produce than I’d purchase in the store; and it would all be naturally produced, fresh, and personally packaged by someone who loves the work he does.

    I also appreciated that receiving this food created a sense of mealtime mindfulness that started with the delivery, extended to the preparation, and then culminated with a sense of hyper-awareness while eating. It’s instinctive to savor food when you feel a sense of respect and even awe for it.

    I haven’t always felt that way. As a teen and in my early 20s, food was my enemy. I felt happiest when I felt in control of it—meaning I ate a minimal amount of it.

    Even after I adopted a healthier attitude toward food, it remained a rival of sorts. All too often, I hurried through the grocery store, piled the cheapest and easiest-to-prepare items in my cart, and then rushed through the acts of cooking and eating, like items to be checked off my to-do list.

    Anyone who has traveled internationally knows that many other cultures enjoy the experience of preparing and eating meals far more than most of us do in the United States. (more…)