Tiny Buddha

Tag: Fear

  • How My Fear of the Unknown Sabotages Relationships

    How My Fear of the Unknown Sabotages Relationships

    “Let go of the need to control the outcome. Trust the process. Trust your intuition. Trust yourself.” ~Unknown

    I was talking with a friend one day at work, and we were discussing dating and the rejection that comes with that and the sense of failure and disappointment.

    We were talking about how we struggle to even get close to dating someone because we get in our own way, and our thoughts stop us from moving forward because we’re scared. We’re scared, so we blow the situation up with our inability to sit with the uneasiness of not knowing what the other person’s intentions are and whether or not this new potential partner can be trusted.

    We second-guess, we doubt their intentions, and we worry about where the relationship may be going. We assume and we make stories up in our heads and ask random and abrupt questions out of nowhere hoping to get an answer to end our anxiety-ridden suffering.   

    Just recently I was rejected by a guy I wanted to know more about because I pushed for answers and for things to move faster than he may have been ready for. I struggled to let things evolve naturally because I feared the unknown and felt uncomfortable with my uneasiness.

    I’ve since begun dating again and putting myself out there, but I continuously find that I sabotage any potential relationship before it even becomes a relationship because my thoughts get in the way. But also because the hurt child within myself, who feels scared when she is vulnerable, repels all that may be good for her to return to what is familiar, the aloneness. Because there, she can’t be hurt. However, through this process I continue to hurt myself deeply.

    Time and time again this has happened, and I find it extremely frustrating and annoying to be stuck in this loop.

    Rejection

    I also find that when I am rejected it’s like this insurmountable blow to my hurt inner child, and I take the rejection personally, as though there is something within me that isn’t good enough. Or I feel as though I have done something wrong and that’s why they’ve rejected me.

    It struggles to come to me that we simply are not compatible or that it just wasn’t meant to be. The rejection runs all the way to the hurt child within, and I struggle to reconcile this within myself.

    Sense of Failure

    I then interpret this rejection as a personal failure on my part, since I wasn’t calm and open enough to allow things to evolve naturally. I feel bad about myself because I failed to be out of my head and in my heart, and I allowed my hurt inner child to once again to take over, consume my thoughts, and overrule rational thought.

    It’s frustrating for me that I keep struggling to stay calm and let things just be in flow since I’ve been trying to master for some time now.

    Recovery

    However, I know that this isn’t what I want to do anymore, and I know that one day I will master this sense of calm within the uneasiness life tends to bring, and I will have the loving relationship I so desire.

    If we recognize our patterns and work on the underlying issues, it’s just a matter of time till we see progress.

    I am not scared to keep trying and to keep putting myself out there. Even though I was recently rejected, I’m proud of myself for taking a chance, stepping out from my comfort zone, and breaking down the façade I’ve built up over the years.

    I’m also proud that during my interactions with this man, I was engaged, present with what was occurring right in front of me, and from that I take note that every step forward is one more step in the right direction.

    I’m also trying to focus in on the now and to stop my thoughts from running away from me. Yes, the man I was hoping to develop a relationship with has retreated, but I see that I am okay and that my world has not fallen apart because one man has rejected me, so I know I will be able to try again.

    I focus on what I have in my life to be grateful for, and I’ve been flooding my brain with positive affirmations and remembering my daily mantra that “I am deserving.”

    I know that I am a smart, brilliant, and amazing woman who has had a phenomenal journey of healing and recovery and who is simply trying to do her best with this new hurdle. I continue to reiterate this message to myself, and my level of rejection and sense of failure continue to improve as time goes on.

    I look at how far I have come and the growth that has occurred in the past year, and I am pleased to see that I now have trust within myself, to where I am at least comfortable to put myself out there in the dating world.

    I will continue trying not to force things so relationships can naturally evolve as they will. I know this will happen for me. I just need to keep trusting myself and keep showing up for me.

    Have you ever felt scared and uneasy at the beginning of a relationship? What helps you relax, let go, and let things happen?

  • I Didn’t Know How to Let Love In… Until Now

    I Didn’t Know How to Let Love In… Until Now

    “You open your heart knowing there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible.” ~Bob Marley

    A few months ago I was visited by my mother in a dream; my deceased mother who took her own life thirty years ago.

    In my dream, I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom thinking about my teenage daughter, who is around the same age I was when my mother died. I felt like my daughter was in distress, and I wanted to help her.

    As I sat and pondered, I looked up and saw a blanket coming toward me. I knew it was my mother trying to comfort me, but I could not see her. I only felt her. I was confused and uncomfortable with her presence and why she was there.

    She then became visible in her ethereal form, beautiful and healthy as I once remembered her long ago. A victim of mental illness, she had fought her own demons for years before making the decision to end her life.

    Her exit from this world shaped the path of mine. I had not dreamt of her in many, many years.

    From an early age I was her confidante. She shared her fears with me, as well as her insecurities and her deep depression. I took on the role as her caretaker and emotional support. She was desperate to be loved, and I was desperate to help her feel it. I felt I had to. If I didn’t, I might lose her.

    She opened her arms to hug me in my dream, and I instinctively pulled away. This was not our relationship, and I didn’t trust it. It was not her job to comfort me. I was the one who comforted her. It didn’t feel safe.

    She waited in silence with her arms wide open as I resisted. I was curious, but cautious. I slowly leaned in and felt her embrace… and then, I let go.

    I let her hug me. I released my fear, leaned in even closer, and let my body go limp as I wept in her arms.

    I have never experienced anything like it. A feeling of complete surrender and letting go into the care of someone else where I did not have to be strong. I did not have to fix anything. I did not have to make anything okay. I let myself be embraced by a love so powerful and comforting… just for me.

    When I woke up, I felt an enormous wave of peace and contentment. Scribbling down insights and details at 4am so I wouldn’t forget.

    I spent the next day enamored with the aha moments that followed. I saw the patterns that began early on that I couldn’t quite grasp. The fear of attachment and commitment. The danger I felt getting close to people. How giving love was a survival tactic to get my basic needs met and how receiving love felt dangerous and unknown.

    It wasn’t that I didn’t want to fully experience being loved by others, I didn’t know how. I saw the push and pull in my relationships. I wanted to get close to people, but it felt risky. The closer they would become the more I would internally retreat in protection.

    I had a strong desire to be connected to others, but the resistance that came with it was fierce. So much fear.

    I married in my mid-twenties feeling I had a strong connection with my husband and I would comfortably ask for what I needed. Yet the more attached I became, the more my anxiety around loss intensified.

    I feared arguments would lead to the end of the relationship. I was convinced that if I didn’t shape myself to meet his expectations I would no longer be welcome in his life. I felt the pressure to assess his needs while ignoring my own, which eventually led to long-term resentment and the disconnect of our relationship.

    Instead of telling my husband, I withdrew enough to deem the relationship no longer working. I was too scared to ask for what I wanted, assuming rejection and defeat. My biggest fear was that he would leave. Instead of waiting for the inevitable end, I chose to leave him before he left me, which led to another debilitating fear—that I would hurt him.

    I always felt I had to be tough, the one who took the hits. Because my childhood experiences with an emotionally unavailable parent positioned me as the caregiver, I believed that was my role in relationships. I did not think I had earned the right to support my own emotional needs.

    And due to the fact that I’d failed to save my mother when she was in the most pain, an unwarranted, yet longstanding guilt created a fear of hurting others. I would rather put their needs over my own and “suck it up” so they didn’t have to experience what I had become an expert at—enduring pain.

    After spending significant amounts of time with myself, comforting the wounds of loss from my twenty-plus year relationship, and getting to know who I was independently, I began to nurture my vulnerable heart. I realized my lack of love and compassion for myself was keeping me in a cycle of dysfunctional and unhealthy attachments.

    As my heart strengthened and healed, I was introduced to new friendships with those who were willing to be open and vulnerable, and slowly began to do the same.

    I noticed the more comfortable I became in my own skin, the easier it became to expose my true self. Yet, this didn’t elevate my trust in relationships, their intentions, or how long they would last. I continued to keep those I loved at arms length in fear that they could be gone at any time.

    Although I practiced trust, and even teach ways to move through fear in my career as a psychotherapist, it did not make trusting relationships any easier for me. I trusted myself and my own decisions, but when it came to interpersonal relationships I continued to fear connection and loss of love.

    As I began to allow in healthier connections, my real challenges began to unravel. I wanted more intimate relationships equally as much as I feared them.

    I started to notice how quickly I wanted to bail if things felt uncomfortable. I felt the inner sirens blare in alert when any kind of threat or disagreement began to brew.

    My desire to run is almost instantaneous, like a reflex. I keep my shield up as I find the quickest way off the battlefield to protect my heart. It is a true challenge to not react based on fears that I developed long ago, despite the fact that my life is completely different, as am I.

    This self-awareness combined with a consistent practice to respect my fears, has allowed me to make the changes I know are necessary. I now choose to change my patterns by doing the opposite of what I normally do. If I want to run, I stay put. If I want to shut down my emotions, I give myself the space to feel them so they move through me and dissipate.

    If I want to pick a fight because I’m scared and want out, I practice sitting with it, or even better, I calmly verbalize my needs. I practice the pause to make sure I am not sabotaging something that is “normal” and will pass with space and calming of my internal wiring. I allow myself time to listen to what my fear is saying to me and question if it is real or imagined.

    I’m learning to say how I feel out loud instead of hiding my irrational thoughts. The more I express them and work through them, the more I am realizing they’re just the way I’ve protected myself, but I don’t need them anymore. They are outdated, but still need the comfort of being heard and not dismissed.

    The more I’ve changed my response to allowing love in, the more loving relationships and friendships I attract. With people who talk through difficulties and don’t threaten to leave. People who know my tears are normal and don’t criticize my skittish reactions to life. People who somehow inspire me to believe that maybe I really am enough.

    I believe my mother’s message to me in my dream was really rather simple. My fears have been under the guise that love can be taken away, but my mother’s embrace showed me that love does not die. It changes forms. That each experience in my life has been a lesson of love, whether an opportunity to feel more love for myself or compassionate love toward others, knowing their own fears of loss of love are the same.

    Every time one door has closed in my life, another has opened. Each person who has showered me with love and left has made space for more love to come in. And this is true for all of us.

    Most of us are carrying around insecurities in relationships due to our experiences growing up. We’re scared of being hurt or rejected, and it’s tempting to close down—to shut love out so it can’t be taken away. But we need to trust that opening our hearts is worth the risk, and that even if someone leaves us, we can fill the hole in our heart with our own self-love and compassion.

    The night after my dream, my independent, headstrong adolescent daughter asked me to lie down with her at bedtime. This is a rarity, as she has grown to not need me in her self-sufficient ways. I melted with the chance to put my arm around her as she released tears of pent up stress and fears of change. I recognized her sadness; I have felt the same.

    My dream had come full circle. I am the mother I always wanted; the unconditional love and support I craved. And I am here to teach my daughter that she, too, is not alone and love will never leave her.

    Although I know my own work of self-love and acceptance will continue, I see now the rewards of opening my heart won’t cease. To let love in we must practice not shutting it out. In the end, it’s all we really want, and we can have it, if we open up to it.

  • Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    “A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking, because its trust is not on the branch, but in its own wings. Always believe in yourself.”  ~Unknown

    If you’ve ever stopped and thought, “What the hell am I doing?” or “How did I end up here?” believe me when I tell you that you are one of many—including me.

    Feeling lost is stressful enough, but what about when we disappoint ourselves more than anyone around us? What do we do when we have no sense of direction or purpose, and dwindling confidence in ourselves?

    I haven’t yet figured it all out, but that’s just fine. That’s the point exactly, that we don’t have to figure it all out right now. You can be hurting and healing at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.

    I found myself in what would be one of the darkest moments of my life at the ripe age of twenty-five. My girlfriend of five years and I split up as I was planning to propose, an F4 tornado destroyed my hometown, and I quit a successful job in advertising all in a matter of months.

    The truth is, I wasn’t happy in my relationship (even though I told myself I was over the years and through a myriad of fights). I wasn’t truly happy in my career. And I was missing a lot from life in general.

    So I took a hard look at myself—twenty-five, single, jobless, and feeling empty. Not empty in the lonely sense of the word. Empty in that I would wake up in the middle of the night and not see her next to me. Empty in that all my peers were on life’s highway setting goals for themselves, breaking them, and setting new ones thereafter.

    Every opportunity that I had been afforded, I took advantage of and excelled in. But I never found that one thing that fueled the fire in my heart. I don’t think I ever discovered my passion. By twenty-five, surely I must have been getting close, right?

    Many of my friends knew exactly what they wanted to do from a young age. Deep down, I envied that. To know my purpose was what I longed for. So why was I not one of those that automatically knew?

    I don’t yet have that answer, as you might’ve intuited, but I have found two things to be true thus far:

    1. Yes, some people know what they want early in life. But they are the exceptions to the rule.

    Many successful people we know today found success later in life. Stan Lee started the Marvel Universe at thirty-nine, Charles Darwin wrote On the Origin of the Species at fifty, and Grandma Moses began painting at seventy-eight years old.

    Then there are the countless people you’ve never heard of—and probably never will—who found meaning and passion later in life, or found it, lost it, then found it again.

    2. Maybe we are meant to do more than one thing.

    It’s our understanding of success that helps us define when we’ve reached it. Rather than think of success as one destination, we can choose to see it as the car ride from spot to spot, each equally exciting.

    So how do you recover when you feel as though life took you, chewed you up, and spit you back out? You don’t… at least not really.

    I stumbled upon a great quote a few days ago that read, “When people say recovery, you typically think of returning to how you were before. But there is no going back. You do not merely recover, but reinvent yourself. You become something completely different from what you were before.”

    I read that over and over until I felt the wisdom shiver itself into my bones.

    Many times we take a step back from situations to recover, when in fact what we may need to do is reinvent ourselves if we can no longer return to what we used to be.

    It’s not a negative thing, to reinvent who you are. In fact, it’s one of the most liberating experiences you will ever have. You just have to let yourself.

    If you’re anything like me, you are your own biggest critic. And although this can help us keep ourselves accountable, it can prevent us from broadening our horizons. We internally set limits for ourselves based on past experiences, thinking that we can only go as far as we’ve already been. When you learn to let go of the things that no longer serve your purpose but only hinder you, then can you truly soar.

    Let yourself gain new talents and explore new things outside of your comfort zone.

    Sometimes it’s important to let go of the oars and simply float the river. So often we try and paddle upstream when in reality we’d be better off letting the river guide us downstream, to where we haven’t been before.

    Think back to every missed opportunity that you were disappointed with. Many (if not all) of those so called missed opportunities were actually guideposts. Even the accomplishments that didn’t last served their purpose. They were not meant to last, they were only meant to change you.

    What if I would’ve gotten married? I would have never had the opportunity I have right now to move away to Colorado and explore new horizons.

    What if that Tornado wouldn’t have hit my hometown? I used that as a chance to rebuild my home from the ground up, when I wanted to remodel anyway.

    And if I had stayed in the security of advertising? Sure, things would be financially stable, but instead I chose to finally pursue my passion for teaching.

    So yes, every single experience in life is an opportunity for growth, whether it lasts forever or not.

    I had a baseball coach in high school who would always say, “We learn more from the games we lose than the ones we win.” I carry that with me to this day. Maybe it’s because we analyze more when we lose, or maybe it’s because it forces us to change our game plan for next time. But trust that next time, you’re starting from experience, not from zero.

    So trust that when everything seems to be falling apart, new things are coming together. But you have to be open to embrace them. Simply float the river. The point of life is not in the destination, it is in the journey. But we are led to believe that life is serious and that it must be leading us to some grand destination.

    I’ve found that life is more like a dance. No dancer points to a spot on the dance floor and says, “That’s where I must end up at.” The whole point of the dance is the dance.

    So I’ll leave you with three things that I’ve found help me on this journey I find myself on:

    1. Name three good things about your day.

    At the end of each day, speak aloud three good things that happened. They don’t have to be grand, just the little wins we often overlook. I helped my friends move, I beat my time in the mile, etc. These help remind me that in the middle of the storm, there are still accomplishments in the day and things to be thankful for. That, in turn, can change your mood and set the tone for tomorrow.

    2. Exercise and eat healthy.

    How you feel is tied closely to the food you consume. Make it a point to eat healthier and to exercise. This won’t only improve your mood, but also your self-confidence and overall health.

    I’ve found that whenever life throws challenges at me, one constant that I can count on is the gym. When I’m working out, nothing outside of those four walls matters. It’s my escape, if you will.

    3. Keep a journal.

    Although life is about the journey, having a sense of direction can anchor us when we’re feeling lost.

    Write down what you want (out of your next relationship, out of life, etc.). Jot down your thoughts, fears, and feelings as you sit with uncertainty and find a way forward. Journaling is cathartic and can help ease much of the pain. It can also help you feel a sense of progress. One of my favorite things to do is to look back on old entries, which can help me see how far I’ve come.

    So no, this isn’t the end for you. You will survive and you will look back one day and be so proud of yourself for doing what you thought to be impossible. How do I know? Because if you’re reading this, you still believe in yourself. You still have hope that there are exciting new chapters left to be written, even if you don’t yet know what to do, or how.

    As I stated at the beginning, I don’t have it all figured out just yet, but that’s okay. I don’t know where this journey will lead me, but I know it will be exciting and filled with adventure. And in the process, I hope that you too, will find whatever is it that fuels that fire in your heart. Don’t give up, don’t give in.

    So yes, ultimately everything seems to be falling apart, but I’m finally starting to see that it’s because something better is coming together. Trust your journey, and even if the branch breaks when you sit on it, your wings will help you soar to new heights.

  • Being Shy Made Me Strong, and It Can Do the Same for You

    Being Shy Made Me Strong, and It Can Do the Same for You

    “Never assume that loud is strong and quiet is weak.” ~Unknown

    This quote seems counterintuitive, right?

    For many years, I, too, scoffed at the idea.

    Having dealt with crippling shyness throughout my life, I know firsthand what it’s like to feel weak, powerless, and trapped because of it.

    As a child, I remember clinging to my mom’s leg and using her body to hide from strangers. Then, as I got older, this shy behavior manifested into a fear of speaking my mind, interacting with others, putting myself out there, and so on and so forth.

    My quiet and timid nature led to me being known as “the shy girl,” a label that followed me through my formative years and made me feel stuck inside a box of limitations throughout my adult life.

    During these years, my shyness did nothing but hold me back from being who I wanted to be. It felt like a dark cloud hanging over me, and I couldn’t escape.

    Until, one day, I realized that being shy got me nowhere. I was living a life of loneliness and fear where I had no close friends, no social life, and no happiness.

    I refused to allow myself to fall victim to being shy. So I chose to do something about it.

    Looking back, it’s been a long road to get where I am today, but I can honestly say that I’m a stronger person because of what I went through as a result of all of it. I’m thankful I went through the challenges that come with being a shy person because it forced me to make a choice: shrink or grow.

    So if you, too, are dealing with debilitating shyness, here are some things that may help.

    Challenge yourself.

    Feeling stuck? Then it’s time to shake things up.

    If you’re extremely shy then, chances are, you’re scared to put yourself out there. And why would you? Especially when your comfort zone is just so comfortable.

    I know what that’s like because I’ve been there myself. It’s easier to live your life within the confines of what’s familiar because there are no risks and no surprises. But there’s also nothing to be gained from an unchallenged life.

    From a young age, I recognized that my big ambitions were tethered on a short leash because of my shy nature. I was never going to reach any of my goals if I kept living my life in fear. And that thought alone scared me more than the thought of putting myself out there.

    For that reason, I saw my transition from middle school student to high school freshman as an opportunity for a fresh start. I knew I wanted to do something I never had the guts to do before.

    So I decided to take a theater class offered by my school. I saw it as the perfect challenge because, not only was it completely out of character, the mere thought of performing on stage terrified me.

    What better way to help me break out of my shell than taking a class that involves speaking in front of an audience?

    Skipping ahead to my first performance, I remember my face being beet red, my palms were sweaty, my heart was beating out of my chest, and my anxiety was through the roof. I was in fight-or-flight mode and, and while I would normally choose flight, this time I was determined to fight throughout.

    At the end of the performance, I felt an amazing rush. It didn’t matter how I did or what people thought. All that mattered is that I pushed through my fears and did it.

    I saw this as a huge victory in the battle against my shyness.

    So if you want to take a step toward overcoming your shyness, then it’s time to step outside of your comfort zone. Do something that scares you. Think of an activity you’ve always wanted to do but never had the guts to try and start there.

    It’s terrifying, and chances are you’ll second-guess yourself throughout the entire process, but what you feel once you get through it will make all of the anxiety worth it in the end.

    Don’t give up.

    While theater classes helped me learn to face some of the challenges that came with my shyness, it wasn’t until college where I really broke out of my shell.

    As you can probably imagine, social situations were a nightmare for me because of how shy I was around others. I didn’t know how to connect with people and, more importantly, I was scared to try.

    My life up to this point consisted of a nonexistent social life and friends who were mostly just classmates or acquaintances.

    However, that changed when I took a job at a local restaurant.

    At first, I despised the job. Everyone seemed so close and I felt like I didn’t fit in, which is why, within the first week, I wanted nothing more than to give up and quit

    All of my life I’ve felt like an outsider, so I assumed that this would be no different. Despite that feeling, though, something told me that I needed to stick it out and stay.

    So I did. And it paid off.

    Over the next few months, I became more comfortable talking to my coworkers, which turned into spending time together on lunch breaks and then getting together after work hours. Pretty soon, these people who were once nothing more than strangers to me became the friends I had longed for throughout my life.

    Because I stuck it out and pushed through the discomfort and fear, I was no longer an outsider and I loved my job. It was a complete 180 from where I was when I first started working there, and all it took was patience and effort.

    This experience taught me that anything worth having takes persistence. A self-defeating attitude will only keep you trapped within the limitations of your shy tendencies.

    If I had given up, I would have never met the people who became my closest friends, and still are more than a decade later.

    So when the going gets tough, dig deep and push through it. Changing a pattern like shyness is no easy task, but if you don’t give up, you could end up with something amazing.

    Practice makes perfect.

    Change doesn’t happen overnight.

    In order to break away from your shy tendencies, you need to do more of what gets you out of your comfort zone.

    For me, that’s socializing.

    Because of my shy, introverted nature, I’m typically more comfortable being by myself and, as a result, I tend to withdraw from others.

    Yet, despite those tendencies, deep down, I’ve always wanted to be a social person, somebody who’s confident in social situations and has no problem approaching people.

    So I decided that I was going to practice.

    Coincidentally, all of this took place after my twenty-first birthday, so the nights out on the town with my friends became a way for me to practice my social skills.

    I’ll admit, at first I felt extremely awkward and uncomfortable. In the presence of large crowds, I would typically shrink down and avoid talking to others. Because these skills didn’t come naturally for me, it took some time for me to break away from those habits, but eventually, I did.

    I continued to push myself to talk to strangers whenever I would go out with my friends. Granted, this was a lot easier considering that the people I spoke to were typically a few drinks in, but it still did the job.

    Pretty soon, the thought of approaching someone and having a conversation wasn’t as scary as it once was in the past. In fact, I actually started to enjoy it.

    I like to think of social skills like a muscle in the body. It may start out weak and exercising it can be painful, but the more you work out that muscle, the more it grows and the easier the exercise gets.

    Shyness can be debilitating if you let it take over your life. So practice socializing, having conversations, approaching people and anything else your shyness holds you back from doing. While it can seem impossible to overcome at times, with practice, you can come out on top.

    If I can do it, you can too.

    After spending most of my life feeling like a victim to my shyness, I now appreciate that it made me stronger. That’s because, as a shy person, it takes so much more effort and energy to put yourself out there. It’s going against familiar habits and causing friction that, hopefully, results in change.

    It’s easy to succumb to shyness, to stay within your comfort zone, and to be controlled by fear. And anyone who has pushed through and challenged those tendencies in order to live a fulfilled life knows that it takes a tremendous amount of work. It’s a constant uphill battle, but it does get easier if you’re willing to push through.

    So challenge yourself, don’t give up and practice.

    It’s time to own your shyness instead of letting it own you.

  • How to Trust That You’ll Be Okay No Matter What

    How to Trust That You’ll Be Okay No Matter What

    “The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.” ~Ursula K. Le Guin

    Did you play with cootie catchers as a kid?

    You picked a number and watched anxiously as your friend counted it out. Open. Close. Open. Close.

    You chose a color or picture or word and waited in anticipation as your friend unfolded the flap and read your destiny.

    Or how about that MASH game? Mansion, apartment, shack, house?

    I played these games with an insatiable desire for all the details.

    How is all of this going to play out?

    Where will I live?

    What will become of me?

    I was fascinated with details, and anyone who could supply them. Fortune cookies, horoscopes, and psychic phone readings all held the promise of telling me exactly what I yearned to know.

    Will I be okay? 

    With time, curiosity gave way to hard-core, type A planning. I’d plan everything out in excruciating detail and get my heart set on one specific outcome.

    I’d make a deal with the cosmos. Everything will be okay if it turns out just like this, okay? Okay.

    I craved certainty and the illusion of control.   

    The answer “surprise me,” made me uncomfortable. Playing it by ear was torturous. Penciling it in felt like the easy way out.

    I’ve made a lot of plans along the way: graduation plans, wedding plans, birth plans, career plans. Yet, no matter how painstakingly crafted these plans were, I was always a little surprised with where I ended up.

    My actual wedding dress was nothing like the pictures I collected with friends in high school.

    My thirty-eight-hour, two epidural labor was nothing like my 100% all natural birth plan.

    My house in Arizona is nothing like the one I’d dreamed of having in Northern California.

    And I’ve been okay.

    Okay, universe. I get the message.

    It’s not really about the details.

    We can make the best of difficult times, rising up after we’ve been dragged through the muck. We can surprise ourselves with what it turns out we actually want. And we can rain all over our own parades.

    The details are delicious, though.

    It’s so satisfying to make a list and check things off. It feels so good that sometimes we’ll even write down the things we’ve already done. And there’s something so soothing about having the who, what, when, and where sorted out.

    Best of all is knowing that the whole plan is exactly, perfectly the way you want it. It’s positively intoxicating.

    The only trouble is that the details hardly ever turn out as planned.

    This whole attachment to details thing is getting harder as time goes on. At a time when I most want to know if we’ll all be okay, I suddenly can’t figure the details out. Maybe I’ve lost my touch, or maybe the plans are getting more complicated.

    There are so many more variables and people involved now. Where it was once just me and my cats, there’s now me, my husband, my children, our families, old friends and new friends, employers, clients, school systems, licenses, and a mortgage to consider.

    With each new piece comes countless questions. So many, in fact, that I can’t even picture what all of this is going to look like.

    That’s got to be okay.

    I’m learning to accept that I’ll be okay if I don’t know the details because I know how I want to feel and what I want to leave room for in my life.

    As much as we’d like to take credit for them, the details are often things that just present themselves when they’re good and ready to be seen, anyway. They tend to sort themselves out in ways that we never could have planned.

    We take one step, then another. We prepare the best we can with what we know, knowing how we want to feel when it’s all said and done. Then we reassess along the way.

    Part of me really wants to fight that because it still believes that having all the answers now will guarantee that everything will be okay. Maybe it’s time to start having a little more trust that I’ll find a way to be okay no matter what happens.

    The more comfortable I get with letting the details reveal themselves when the time is right, the more aware I am of all the people who want to know the plan right now.

    They want to know when you’re visiting or moving back to your hometown or having your next child or finally graduating or asking for that raise.

    They ask all kinds of detailed questions about your plan, so much so that it can leave you feeling ashamed for not having figured it out.

    I get it, too.

    People want to feel closer to you or important or useful. They want to be heard.

    Maybe they’re kind of nosy. Or bossy. Or maybe they’re bored.

    Maybe they just really care and want to solve what they think is a problem for you.

    And maybe they also have a deal with the cosmos that everything will be okay if…

    I get it because I’ve been them. I’ve interrogated, and I’ve demanded answers. Even after understanding that I can’t have absolute certainty (or control), I’ve been that person squeezing out the details before it’s time.

    Understanding is different from knowing deep in your bones that you’ll be okay no matter what.

    When you know, you live and breathe it. Instead of seeking control, you seek clarity. Instead of certainty, you seek courage.

    When you know the truth, you also know that it’s supposed to be a little scary to look out into the uncertain future. It’s unnerving to say, “Here goes nothing.”

    It takes courage to walk into the future knowing that you don’t have all the details nailed down. Your next step may be right, it may be wrong, it may lead you nowhere, and people may think you’re crazy, but you have to take it at some point.

    The truth is, no one ever really knows how it’s all going to look, but you probably have a good idea of how you want to feel and what’s most important to you. And if you don’t, maybe that’s why the details are so elusive.

    (But all the same, you don’t need the details.)

    You don’t need to see the details to trust that you’ll figure them out when the time is right, and you don’t need to see your path to know in your heart that it’s there waiting for you to take that step.

    You don’t need to know exactly how every piece will play out to know what the most important pieces are.

    And you don’t need absolute certainty to know that you’ll find a way to be okay no matter what happens.

    I’m not saying, “Let’s all throw caution to the wind from now until forever.” Make plans, yes, but there’s no need to obsess over the details if the details aren’t clear. Meet planning with flexibility and trust. Be curious about what happens next, not controlling.

    So go ahead, daydream, plan, manifest, make a vision board, or whatever calls to you. Just remember to begin from living and breathing the truth: that you will find a way to be okay no matter what.    

    I have no idea where I’ll be working five years from now, what our house will look like, what we’ll do on the weekends, if I’ll have lost the baby weight, or if I’ll dye my greys, but I do trust myself to make the call when the time is right.

    I don’t know all the when’s, where’s, or even how’s, but I do know how I want to feel and what I hold nearest to my heart.

    I want to feel light, energized, and free.

    I want to find meaning in my work.

    I want to be home in time for dinner.

    I want to create space for contemplation and creativity.

    I think I’ve had enough of the heaviness that comes from dragging around a lifetime of plans. It’s too much pressure, and even the most carefully made plans might change in the end.

    I still make plans, and I’m not throwing my bullet journal away any time soon. I’m just not letting my fear that I won’t be okay or that I’ll choose wrong or that people will disapprove suck the life out of living any more.

    So go ahead, universe. Surprise me. I’ll be okay no matter what.

  • An Exercise That May Help You Make a Big, Scary Life Change

    An Exercise That May Help You Make a Big, Scary Life Change

    “Change your thoughts and you can change your world.” ~Norman Vincent Peale

    Making a major life change, such as changing careers or moving to a new state, can be really scary.

    Even if our hearts are pulling us in one direction, we may still be plagued with doubt, fear, and anxious thoughts, such as: How do I know if I’m making the right decision? What will my family think if I do this? Will I regret this?

    Even after we make the change, doubts and worries can still linger.

    In 2016, I was on the brink of a major life change. At the time, I was enrolled in a doctorate program in psychology. I had always dreamed of getting my doctorate. But after two semesters in the program, I realized the path I was on was making me miserable. While my advisor was passionate about his research, I didn’t feel anything close to passion.

    I came to realize I wasn’t in graduate school for the right reasons. I wasn’t there because I wanted to contribute to the field. What I wanted was to win the support and approval of my family.

    Once I realized that, I knew pursuing a doctorate wasn’t the right path for me. However, even though my intuition was screaming at me to leave, I didn’t trust those feelings. I fought with myself. I kept coming up with rational reasons for staying: I worked so hard to get here. I should be here. I’m smart enough to be here—I even passed the comprehensive exams in only my third semester!

    But no matter how hard my rational self struggled to sway me, my inner voice kept reminding me how unhappy and unfulfilled I was.

    I vacillated between leaving and staying. Deep down, I knew what I wanted to do. But I was terrified. My self-worth had always been linked to academic achievements. Without my status as a graduate student, I worried I’d feel worthless. Plus, what would my family and professors think if I left?

    Soon the pull of my intuition became too strong to ignore. I decided to leave my program. While my husband was very supportive of my decision, my family was not supportive—just as I feared. I tried to reassure myself. I continually reminded myself that I had left for the right reasons: to prioritize my happiness and pursue a more fulfilling life path.

    But the doubts and negative self-talk lingered. I started to believe that I was a failure, a loser. My family even said as much. A former professor was also disappointed with me.

    I became so wrapped up in my doubts and negative self-talk that I lost sight of the reasons why I left in the first place.

    Then serendipity hit.

    For some time, I had a side project in writing uplifting letters to strangers. I would write positive messages and leave them in places I thought would be helpful, such as inside self-help books at used bookstores.

    One day, while writing a letter, I suddenly got the idea to write a letter to myself, a letter reminding myself that in leaving graduate school, I was doing what was right for me—being true to myself and prioritizing my happiness.

    “Dear You,” I began. I spent the next hour crafting a letter to myself. I wrote as if I were a compassionate friend writing to myself.

    In the first paragraph, I briefly acknowledged my doubts and feelings.

    Next, I told myself to stop being so hard on myself—I had left graduate school to do what was right for me and my happiness.

    Then I wrote about why I knew graduate school was the wrong path for me. I recalled how happy I was before starting graduate school, and that my happiness rapidly declined since pursuing this path. I reminded myself that I was now free to let happiness back into my life. In the end, the letter ran to just under one thousand words.

    After particularly hard days, I would read the letter. What I found was remarkable: the letter instantaneously swept away all of the self-critical thoughts I had about leaving graduate school. It broke the pattern of my thinking negatively about myself and made me see, in my own words, why what I had done was right.

    Each time I finished the letter, I would be confident about my decision again and proud of my choice.

    But then, a day or two later, something would trigger me to feel badly again. The negative thoughts and fears and doubts would return. In the evening, I’d read the letter again and feel confident once more.

    Clearly, reading the letter was helpful in boosting my mood and confidence in the moment. So I thought: What if I started reading the letter every day? Would it help me feel better about my decision in the long-term? And so I started reading the letter every morning. It was often one of the first things I did after I woke up. In the beginning, I read it several times a day.

    Reading the letter every day proved to be powerful. Within a couple of weeks, I noticed that the things that had triggered me to feel badly, no longer had that effect. Instead, when confronted with these triggers, I found myself automatically thinking about the sentiments I had expressed in my letter.

    After a month of reading the letter every single day, my thought patterns had completely changed. No longer did I think less of myself for leaving my graduate program. Instead, I felt proud.

    In leaving my doctorate program, I had done what was right for me. I had listened to my intuition and bravely made a move toward pursuing a more fulfilling path. Sure, I was more than capable of being in graduate school and finishing the program, but it wasn’t the right path for me, and that was okay.

    And my letter had helped me stay on the path that was right for me.

    Are you facing a major life change and struggling with doubt, fear, or negative self-talk? If so, writing a letter to yourself and reading it consistently may be helpful in transforming your thoughts.

    Tips on Writing a Letter to Yourself

    1. Acknowledge your current thoughts and feelings.

    In the first paragraph, you might start off by acknowledging your current feelings or thoughts. For example, I started off my letter by writing, “I know you may be doubting yourself right now…” Reading this made me feel comforted and soothed, as if I were reading a letter from a friend who completely understood where I was coming from.

    2. If you’re having trouble coming up with reassuring thoughts to include in your letter, talk over your situation with a supportive friend.

    I talked over my situation constantly with my husband. I thought that my being sad to let go of my program was evidence that I was about to make the wrong decision. But he reminded me that it was normal to feel that way; after all it was a dream I had held for so long. It made sense that it would be a little sad to let that go, even if I knew it wasn’t right for me. This sentiment made its way into my letter.

    3. Make it conversational.

    I found my letter more impactful when it was written in a conversational way. Don’t worry so much about spelling or grammar. It doesn’t need to read like an essay.

    4. Use positive words.

    In her studies of the subconscious mind, Dr. Sherry Buffington found that the subconscious can only understand words that produce a mental image or picture. Words such as don’t, not, and no do not form an image or picture. Therefore, the subconscious doesn’t recognize them.

    For example, when you write, “You are not weak,” your subconscious only recognizes you and weak, and interprets this statement as, “You are weak.” Yikes! That’s not at all what you meant! If you use positive words, your subconscious will recognize the words and interpret the statement correctly. In this example, if you write, “You are strong,” your subconscious sees exactly as you intend: “You are strong.”

    5. Make it accessible.

    I wrote the letter in a Google Doc, which is stored within my Google Drive. That way I could access it easily on my phone. This might be helpful for you, or you may prefer a handwritten letter instead. Ultimately, you want to choose a method that will allow you easy access every day.

    6. Be open to revision.

    I know that my letter is just right when I feel comforted and soothed when reading it. If a sentence or paragraph doesn’t have the right effect, you may need to revise it a little.

    7. Read it every single day!

    For the letter to help you stay the course, it’s important to read it every day—for as long as you need to.

    —

    Making a big life change can trigger a lot of fear, doubt, and negative self-talk. These overwhelming feelings and thoughts can become so habitual that you can feel stuck and unable to break free from them.

    Writing an empathetic, empowering letter to yourself can remind you why making a life change is so important to your happiness and well-being. And reading it regularly can help reprogram your thought patterns and keep you on the right track.

  • What to Ask Yourself When You Feel Lost, Unsure, or Confused

    What to Ask Yourself When You Feel Lost, Unsure, or Confused

    “The quality of your life is a direct reflection of the quality of the questions you are asking yourself.” ~Tony Robbins

    I am naturally inclined to do—to go, to move, to take action. Slowing down takes a lot of patience for me. But I often find that moving too quickly actually causes me more confusion.

    One day, my head felt overwhelmed with questions. What had started with a simple idea of little ole me living in a tiny house on wheels (one of those under 200 square feet homes built on a trailer) had turned into a big undertaking of building a tiny house community.

    I had just driven across the country towing a twenty-nine-foot Airstream trailer. It was my first ever purchase on eBay. I had another tiny house in the process of being built and yet another I was about to pick up.

    Things were moving. But I felt like inside I was battling with a doubt that wanted me to come to a screeching halt.

    The predominant question that kept pounding in my mind was: Is this going to work?

    Then I just gave in, sat down, and started to write.

    I wrote down this question and all of the related and unrelated questions that were circulating in the cloud of doubt in my mind.

    In that moment, I discovered a personal practice that I’ve used many times since when I feel lost, doubtful, or unsure of which way to go. It helps me take intentional action toward my goals, and it’s really quite simple:

    I evaluate the questions I’m asking about my work and life and change them to questions that empower me instead of stressing me out.

    We all want something in common, and that is clarity. We want to move forward with integrity and purpose.

    No matter if your life feels like a roller coaster or it’s running as smoothly as ever, there is one thing that never changes: You will always ask yourself questions.

    I personally believe that when you are stretching yourself to grow and pursue a dream, you will have more than one question floating around your mind. They may even bombard you most of the day.

    Questions aren’t inherently bad; they can help us go deeper to understand what we need to do to move forward—if, that is, we ask ourselves the right questions.

    A lot of times, we ask ourselves questions that undermine our confidence in our ability to do the things we know we need to do.

    Some undermining questions include:

    • Is this going to work?
    • Why can’t I figure this out?
    • What’s wrong with me?
    • Why does it seem easier for everyone else?
    • How do I get this person/these people to think/do xyz?

    The problem with the above questions is that they place you in a victim or scarcity mindset instead of giving you a sense of control and empowering you to take responsibility.

    You know a question is undermining if it meets the following criteria:

    1. It makes you feel bad.

    Although empowering questions can be challenging, they won’t make you feel like crap about yourself. An undermining question makes you find fault with yourself, others, or your situation. An empowering question prompts you to focus on patterns that are causing or contributing to your challenges, and it also helps you find a solution.

    One way to convert an undermining question is to flip it to the opposite.

    For example, change “What is wrong with me?” to “What is right with me?” or “What behavior can I improve?” This helps you focus on your strengths, what’s working, and how you can learn and grow.

    2. You can answer it simply “yes” or “no.”

    This might seem counterintuitive, because we ask ourselves questions to find clarity, and what can be clearer than “yes” or “no”? But the reason you are asking the question in the first place is because there’s more to it than that.

    Often we just want a quick answer because it feels uncomfortable being in uncertainty. But there’s something more to explore, and there is greater power in a deeper answer.

    Another way you can convert an undermining question to an empowering one is to change it to something that requires a thoughtful answer.

    For example, like the undermining question I was asking myself about my tiny house community, change “Is this going to work?” to “How is this going to work?” By changing the question, you are presupposing that it will work—you simply need to figure out how.

    3. It defers the power to someone else rather than yourself.

    We all fall into potholes where we defer power, blame, and control to someone else, even those of us far down the path of personal development. When we ask questions to figure out what other people will think about us or how to get someone or a group of people to do something, we are placing our problem-solving energy outside of ourselves, where we have little leverage.

    A way to convert this kind of undermining question to an empowering one is to change the focus to yourself.

    For example, change “How do I get this group of people to do what I want them to do?” to “What actions do I need to take to achieve what I want to accomplish?” This allows you to lead by example, putting all of the power back in your court.

    Changing your undermining questions to empowering ones can help create a lot more peace, expansion, and clarity. And when you answer those empowering questions for yourself, you may feel like you just unloaded a bag of bricks from your head.

    Try this Exercise…

    Here is a simple process for unloading, examining, and finding answers to your own questions:

    Step 1: Unload

    Grab your journal and write down every question you are asking yourself about your business, work, relationships, and life right now. Write until you cannot think of any more questions and you start repeating yourself.

    Step 2: Examine

    Look through your questions. Are any of them undermining? If so, convert them to empowering questions, using the tools above.

    Step 3: Answer

    For the questions you have remaining, take time to journal your own answer to each one. Don’t think, just write and see what comes out.

    You can do this process as often as you like. I find when I do it, I feel clear for a substantial amount of time, and confident, because I know I have a process I can use whenever I feel lost.

  • How to Get Past Doubt and Do What You Really Want to Do

    How to Get Past Doubt and Do What You Really Want to Do

    “Doubt everything. Find your own light.” ~The Buddha

    As far back as I can remember, I’ve allowed my life to be shaped by external forces.

    On the outside, it appeared like I was just another carefree soul, living in the moment and going through life like a leaf on the wind. But on closer inspection, I was actually running away from having to make any real commitments and avoiding getting into a position where I had to make difficult or important decisions.

    It wasn’t until recently, when I realized it was four years to the date since I’d fallen into the job that I’d despised for what seemed like forever, that I even stopped to realize this.

    But on this day, as I stood looking around and contemplating where I’d ended up, I suddenly—and surprisingly—decided that was all going to change.

    Before I knew it, I was acting on something that, until then, had been just a vague, albeit persistent idea floating around in the back of my mind.

    I was applying to go back to university.

    There was little doubt about the decision; it was something I’d be thinking about for a while but had been putting off for as long as possible.

    But sure enough, the doubt soon crept in. I loathed formal education the first time around, and this time I was going to study something that was sure to stop any conversation dead with 99% of people I knew and make me the best friend of my one quirky aunt who’s deep into crystals and horoscopes:

    Mindfulness.

    I knew it was what I wanted. And I was pleased that for once I’d actually stood on my own two feet and made a decision. Not to mention, I was secretly relieved that I wouldn’t have to make another big one for at least a few years.

    But little did I know that was far from how it was going to be.

    In making such a big life choice, I’d made a complete about-turn from my familiar and reliable strategy of avoidance and chosen to stare life directly in the face.

    And I’d forgotten just how scary-looking life can be.

    My instinct to run was immediately triggered. Maybe this isn’t what I really want. Maybe I’ve changed my mind; people change their minds all the time, don’t they? Life would be simple if I just stayed where I am and found another job. It’s not too late to drop out…

    Instead of fleeing like usual, this time I froze. You could say I’d made progress, but it felt like I’d gone backward—despite being unable to move backward, forward, or in any direction whatsoever.

    I was well and truly paralyzed by doubt.

    And I was going to study mindfulness.

    Just perfect.

    My paralysis came from a long-held belief that I needed to be free from all trace of doubt before I could make any major decisions and move forward in life. But as I quickly came to see, if this was the case, then no one would ever do anything they really wanted to do.

    It’s in the nature of the mind to doubt. And whereas I thought the problem was that I’d rushed the decision or hadn’t considered the other options thoroughly enough, it was that I was, in fact, stirring up the murky waters of doubt with my constant questioning, making it all but impossible to see things clearly.

    Nearly six months into once again being a fresher, I’ve made more decisions than during the rest of my life combined. I rarely experience doubt anymore, but when it does appear, I know why it’s there, and rather than indulge it or push it away, I can simply let the water settle before getting on with what I want to do.

    Below is what I learned about doubt broken down into three steps or rules. If you doubt they’ll stop you from putting off big decisions and second-guessing yourself, put that aside for a moment while you read on and discover for yourself.

    1. There will always be a reason not to do something.

    If you try hard enough, you can always find a persuasive enough reason not to do anything.

    You can’t go to the party because you haven’t gotten as much work done as you planned to.

    You can’t start a family because you need to make at least ten grand a year more first.

    You can’t run your own business because you’re already tired and it’s only going to become more demanding.

    When we’re faced with making a choice, our mind often fishes for reasons not to take action, automatically accepting the ones that seem to fit into our fear-driven stories and justify how we feel.

    In this way, we come to relate to our experience according to the ongoing internal narrative about what’s going on, rather than what is actually happening in the new and ever changing here and now.

    It’s easy enough to understand this when you’re reading it in an article. The tricky thing is that when it happens to you, the stories can appear so real that debunking them feels like an impossible task.

    This is even more true with doubt as all the while it will be telling you things like: There’s no point even trying, there’s a reason you can’t but you just haven’t found it yet, and, you’ll always be this way, so you might as well just succumb to your fate.

    But no matter how sophisticated and convincing the story, if it’s going against what you really want or know deep down to be true, then you can be sure it is the doubting mind.

    As a function of the mind’s problem-solving mode, doubt is an incredibly useful tool that can alert us to impending danger, help us think more critically, and enable us to make better decisions. As we spend most our time in this problem-solving mode, though, this vulnerability-seeking mechanism can become chronically switched on and quickly become debilitating.

    Either way, the doubting mind is not you. But how do you know the difference between you and this part of your brain? Well, you don’t—at least not when you’re stuck in this mode, as by definition that’s what the doubting mind will tell you.

    It will tell you that certainty is possible. It will tell you there will always be a better time. It will tell you that you’ll be able to see the future and know how things will turn out if only you consider things a bit longer…

    First things first, then, to break free from doubt, we need to recognize that when we go fishing, we are going to catch some fish. In other words, when you believe that thoughts will give you an answer and will relieve you of uncertainty, you’re only going to create more and more doubt.

    It’s only by letting the water clear that we can start seeing what it reflects more clearly. And to do this, we don’t suppress the doubt—that only stir things up more. But nor do we passively accept it.

    2. Instead of accepting, learn to doubt the doubt.

    In Buddhist theory, overcoming doubt is not a matter of letting it be and having blind faith in something greater, it’s about exploring it through a process of active investigation.

    And what are we most likely to find when we inquire into this kind of doubt?

    Fear.

    For a long time, I believed that in order to be truly ready for something, I’d need to be without fear. That was, after all, what it meant to be fearless, to be a man, a Buddha, a superhero, or whatever other ideal I was guiding my life by.

    Without knowing it, I had thus long been avoiding fear, shielding myself from it, and denying that I was or could ever be scared of anything.

    In this way, I lost the resilience to be able to do anything that was even the slightest bit meaningful to me, and built a life that was safe, limited, and void of the things I really cared about.

    But fearlessness does not mean being free from all fear. It’s the opposite: it’s learning to be so intimate with fear that it no longer controls you. It’s making such a close friend of it that you can use it to propel you forward instead of treating fear as the enemy and allowing it to hold you back.

    You can uncover fear with the sneaky and perspective-shifting act of doubting the doubt. This is essentially the role of meditation and learning to notice thoughts as phenomena that are separate from yourself.

    Through practice, meditation gives us a welcome alternative to pushing away, passively accepting, or being completely swept away by thoughts, allowing us to relate to our own fear in an entirely new and previously unseen way.

    3. If there’s fear, you’re on the right track.

    Because I failed to recognize fear and denied its existence, my doubting mind stepped in to try to solve the problem.

    As opposed to filling me with angst and making my hands pour with sweat, the doubt appeared as a friend trying to protect me. And that makes sense—our doubts and fears are always trying to keep us safe. But a true friend doesn’t hold us back; instead, he or she propels us forward. And fear can do that for us if we let it. As Ram Dass explains, when “you no longer allow fear to step blatantly before you and shout of cataclysm, it will creep behind you and whisper something reasonable in your ear.”

    If we acknowledge fear as a sensation, before the conditioned responses and makeshift interpretations, we see that it is a bubbling energy of potential that isn’t shouting or whispering to us about what we can’t and shouldn’t do, but signaling to us what we can and could do.

    By trying to push it away and remove it from my experience, then, I was mixing up my own recipe for a life of limited potential and of achieving only what happened to fall into my lap. If I learned to be aware of it and recognize it for what it is, however, I could take the same ingredients and use them to cook up a life of unlimited potential and growth.

    You can’t have change, innovation, creativity, and originality—in other words, life—without insecurity, uncertainty, and fear. And so by embracing these fundamental states and changing how you see fear, you can begin to use them to your advantage and live a full life.

    This isn’t about, say, giving in to the fact that leaving your job is terrifying and so getting it over with as quickly as possible. That would mean still categorizing fear as an unwanted foe and trying to conquer it through blind action.

    This is about welcoming fear as a valuable and even desirable part of your experience. It’s about noticing that when you feel terrified about leaving your job, the feeling is saying wow, you must be doing something really challenging and/or meaningful. It’s learning to see fear as a guide that’s there to help you. It might also suggest that you want to prepare yourself, and wait until after your next paycheck, but if deep down, you want to do something different, the fear is telling you “keep going in this direction, you’re on the right track.”

    It’s only by bringing fear, with all its demons, into the light that we can begin to unravel the excuses we have piled upon them—many of which we don’t know are even there until we look. We can then see fear without any pretense, without any doubt, and only then embrace it as the true ally and source of life it really is.

    And if you immediately think you can’t do it, are overcome by your poor track record, or just immediately zone out or want to run and hide, notice this as the doubting mind. Beat it at its own game and doubt it. And then ask yourself, what sort of life do you choose to lead: one of comfort, dissatisfaction, and surety, or one of adventure, fulfillment, and the thrill of diving into the unknown?

  • How to Take Back Control from the Negative Script in Your Head

    How to Take Back Control from the Negative Script in Your Head

    “You don’t have to control your thoughts. You just have to stop letting them control you.” ~Dan Millman

    I’d love to say I had an “Eat, Pray, Love” moment where sitting sobbing in the bathroom I received divine guidance to leave my husband and go traveling the world eating amazing food. But sadly, it wasn’t quite that profound.

    It was more a long series of nights sobbing in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, and concluding “You’re broken.”

    I wasn’t depressed and hadn’t been for a long time. My anxiety, a lifelong companion, was under control. So what was wrong?

    A general feeling of discontent, a lack of energy and enthusiasm to do more, a loss of my spark, a quietening and turning inward, and these overwhelming onslaughts of negativity and tears whenever I felt criticized or something went wrong, which was often. A sense of resentment and frustration that I’m sure ensured those around me felt less inclined toward being loving and giving me the care that I needed.

    So all those nights in the bathroom crying didn’t lead me to any insight, but thankfully the universe did send me guidance in other ways.

    Someone posted a video to a Facebook group I was part of by a guy named Richard Wilkins. It was called “My F*ck It Jeans.”

    Richard is well in his sixties, yet here he was making a Facebook video about how he doesn’t let his age dictate how he feels, acts, dresses, or his enjoyment of life. He doesn’t worry about others’ opinions or society’s views of how someone his age should be, but instead lives true to himself, and has never been happier. And here I was in my early thirties, feeling wiped out and like my spark for life had been put out before I’d even realized I had one!

    Over the next year I followed Richard on Facebook, and was drawn to drive one fateful Saturday morning to Northampton, to his Recharge Day.

    Richard always says, “The reason you are there is never the reason you are there.” This certainly proved true for me. I thought I was there to find out if the course would help my husband, but after I cried myself through the first half of the morning, I quickly realized I needed to be there for me.

    “You are not broken.” Richard’s words cut into my thoughts.

    Did I hear him right? Did he say I’m not broken? Did I dare to believe that? And how did he know that’s how I felt? There were over 200 people in the room. Was it possible that some of them also felt broken? If so, was it likely that I was the only one who really was?

    It was this question that led me to turn up on Richard’s front door step a few months later to attend a five-day Broadband Consciousness (BC) course with him and his partner, Liz, and seven other strangers, who have now become friends.

    For the next five days I shared things I’d not shared with anyone before. Then I shared more.

    I listened and didn’t jump in with advice. I made no plan for what I must do when I got back from the course. I didn’t look at my phone.

    I struggled, then I had a breakthrough, then I struggled harder. I spoke up when I did and found others had the same struggles. I supported others and they supported me in return.

    I woke up easily and full of energy. I laughed. I cried. I ate lots of biscuits and didn’t care. I felt like a very heavy weight had been lifted from my back. I felt like life didn’t have to be so damn hard anymore.

    I learned a way of separating that negative voice in my head (which BC calls “the script”) from the real me.

    I learned that the script is anything that doesn’t serve me and I would not choose.

    I learned to recognize the real me.

    I learned that the script is just thoughts based on incorrect beliefs, and that they are not true.

    I learned that if I’m not choosing my experiences, my actions, and my feelings, the script will choose for me.

    I learned that it’s not necessary to listen to, analyze, or try to change the script. All I need to do is recognize when it is the script talking and not me. And not believe it. And not act on it.

    And I learned this not from talking about myself but from witnessing other people and the script in their heads. Because guess what? The script told them they were broken too. And useless. And they always get it wrong. And they are fat and ugly. And they are not good enough. And they are not loved. And on and on… We were literally all reading from the same script!

    Since returning from the course, the impact has stayed with me and grown. After over thirty years of listening to the script, for every month I spend not believing it I get to know the real me more and ignore the script more easily.

    So how can we all take steps to turn away from the script and tune into our true selves?

    First off, you have to recognize the script and be open to the possibility that what it’s saying isn’t true.

    In fact, make it your job to discredit the script, to prove what it’s saying to be fake news.

    Remember that time it said you were dying because you were having a panic attack? Not true!

    What about the time it said you couldn’t do that thing, but then you did it? Yup, it was lying!

    Oh, this is a good one—how about that time it said you were worthless and no one would hire you? Ho ho ho!

    Once you recognize the script you will be surprised by how many times it pops up!

    Secondly, remember that you are not the script.

    Think of the script as a physical book. It has many chapters documenting every mistake we’ve ever made, all the bad things that could or have happened, detailing how we ‘should’ behave, think, and feel about every situation under the sun.

    The script also has an audio version, which is what we can hear in our heads each day. But it is not us. It is just the script being read to us.

    If the script says you are useless, this is not true, nor relevant. It is just the script’s opinion.

    Mentally put down the script and accept that, although we can’t change what’s in it or get rid of it, we don’t need to read it all day long, and we certainly don’t need to act upon what it says.

    Lastly, choose! Don’t let the script sit in the driver’s seat.

    The script lives in our reptilian brain and is much faster at responding than our conscious brain. If we don’t consciously choose thoughts, feelings, and actions, the script will jump in and choose for us.

    Start with small things: What would I choose to eat? What activities do I love? Be mindful of what you say. Cut off the script and choose to think of something else. Get out of bed at the time you planned to. Choose not to engage in arguments. Choose to take a bath or read a book.

    Every small choice moves us away from the script and strengthens our choosing muscles.

    Here are my top tips for doing so:

    1. Laugh or smile.

    I recently went to a laughter yoga class for the first time and learned that your body and mind don’t understand the difference between forced laughter and natural laughter.

    When you smile or make a laughter sound it makes you feel better. It strengthens your relationship with your true self and draws you away from the script. So as well as remembering to smile and laugh for no reason, building opportunities to laugh into your life can also be a real help.

    2. Focus on what the script doesn’t see.

    When you’re walking down the street, the script is on high alert for potential threats. It’s trained to look out for all the negatives and potential problems. If you (your higher self) are not alert, you will listen to all the bad things the script has spotted, not just in the street but in your job, your relationship, the activity you’re doing, your children’s behaviour, your body… and on and on.

    One way to practice disconnecting from the script and tuning into the real you is to focus in on all the good stuff the script filters out (in BC we call these “pearls”). Pearls don’t have to be anything huge. It could be a text from a friend, a hug for your child, a chance to grab a cup of tea in silence, or a warm bed at the end of a long day.

    3. Be mindful of your language.

    The more we look for something, the more it will show up in our life. This is true not just in terms of what we see in the world but also the stories we tell ourselves.

    The reptilian brain (where the script lives) doesn’t take time to fact-check what it tells us, yet because it’s coming from inside our own head we tend to believe it. It’s like taking in a headline but not reading or researching the article, then accepting that headline as fact and maybe even repeating it to others.

    So, if someone asks you how you are and you immediately jump in with “tired” or “stressed,” this is what you will believe and therefore how you will feel. If you moan about your partner or say critical things to them, you are repeatedly telling yourself that your partner isn’t good enough. How do you think this affects how you feel and act toward them? And the response you get in return?

    4. Choose.

    Start choosing instead of allowing the script to choose for you.

    Choose food you know will make you feel good. Arrange activities that bring you joy. Say no to that event you don’t really want to go to. Choose to go for a walk at lunchtime. Choose to give your opinion or choose to forget the ironing and take a bath.

    Do whatever you feel called to do when you really tune into your feelings rather than letting autopilot or society’s demands take over.

    5. Let it pass.

    A food craving lasts three minutes, so if you can ignore it for that long it will be gone. I’ve found it’s the same with the script.

    When something triggers the script and you suddenly feel angry, sad, or inundated with critical thoughts, it will generally abate after a few minutes. No need to act on the script either by saying something or doing something. Let it pass, then, when you’re no longer in the script, decide if you need to act.

    Also, remember that whatever triggered the script is not responsible for your subsequent feelings, it is the script making you feel bad, not your colleague, partner, or the guy who cut in front of you in the line.

    6. Share. Learn. Explore.

    The world of self-development can be overwhelming. The script will always tell you that you need to learn more, fix this problem, work on yourself just a bit more. Be conscious of this and instead stick to readings and learnings that align with the simple practices I have mentioned above.

    Focus on sharing as you learn rather than feeling drawn to learn more and more and more. This will reinforce the messages and in turn, you will learn through the telling.

    Be aware of your learning style. If you learn from sharing, then talk to people about what you have learned here. If you learn from writing, write about your experiences or doodle your own version of how to explain the script to a stranger.

    When we share what we have learned and help others, we move away from ourselves and our own problems, and this prevents us from dwelling and drawing more problems to us.

    7. Exercise.

    Everyone says this, but it’s for good reason. Exercising for twenty minutes a day is as effective in boosting your mood as some antidepressants. So whether you’re depressed or not, that has got to be good for you! It gets you out of your head, where the script is, and into your body.

    By getting into your body, you can tune into your conscious mind, and you’ll likely find that ideas, inspiration, and solutions to your problems present themselves.

    8. Listen to music that uplifts you.

    Similarly, use music to get yourself out of your head and into a chosen state. Choose music that reminds you of happy times, or music that gets you energized and ready for inspired action.

    9. Get competitive but not angry.

    Try to avoid getting angry with the script, since it’s only trying to help, although ineffectively. Instead, develop a healthy competition with it.

    If the script thinks you are too lazy to go for a walk, do it.

    If the script thinks you are too scared to do something you’d love to do, do it anyway.

    If the script thinks you should say no to an amazing opportunity, ignore it.

    If the script wants you to lose it with your partner, choose not to.

    Thank the script for its input, but remind it that your real self has the resources, experiences, and skills to deal with life without its help.

    10. Keep asking, “Is this true? Would I choose this?”

    Odds are, once you tune into your higher self, you’re realize the answer is no. And you’ll be able to choose for yourself instead of letting the script run the show.

  • How to Push Through Phases of Uncertainty

    How to Push Through Phases of Uncertainty

    “I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke

    I once trekked on my own along the Salkantay Trail in Peru between the town of Mollepata and the magnificent Machu Picchu. The journey in total was fifty miles, and it took me four days. I had never backpacked before, let alone on my own, let alone in a foreign country, but the opportunity was appealing.

    Along the way, I learned four important lessons that have helped me accept and make sense of phases of uncertainty. But before I share those, a little backstory:

    The year prior, I experienced many internal challenges. In a short time, I transitioned from having clear direction in my life and knowing what was important to me to having no grasp of what I wanted and feeling lost. The feeling was unfamiliar to me. I had spent much of my life plowing forward, knowing exactly what I wanted, why, and how to get there.

    Almost two years before my trip to Peru, I had just finished working breathlessly on a local political campaign for the 2016 election. The candidate lost, and the outcome of the presidential election left me feeling even more defeated.

    Shortly after, I traveled to Thailand for three weeks with a friend. When I returned to the states, I was unsure of where I wanted to place my next step. I was still feeling politically fired up, and with that energy, I decided to start a nonprofit organization in my state to encourage women to run for office.

    I worked day in and day out putting together statistics, a website, a business plan, and coffee dates with important people in the community. It didn’t take long for the organization to gain momentum because it attracted the support of people who were also intensely moved by the election.

    Meanwhile, I entered into a tumultuous and emotionally exhausting relationship, I moved to a different town after living in my parents’ basement, and I was seeking full-time work to pay bills that I barely had the money to cover. I felt split between two worlds: one of chaos and one of professionalism. In my naive mind, I believed those two worlds existed separately, and I couldn’t find my place in either one.

    When I jumped on the opportunity to start an organization in my community, I wasn’t fully aware of how demanding it would be. Just as it started to gain momentum, I secretly knew I didn’t want to be part of it long-term.

    I knew I was capable of building the organization, but I was also young and inexperienced, insecure, and distracted by the ambiguity of being a fresh college graduate. I chased after a shiny object that I, as I got closer, discovered wasn’t something I was as interested in as I initially thought.

    A year after the organization started, I resigned from the Board of Directors. We then decided to dissolve the organization altogether, and I breathed a major sigh of relief.

    Around the same time, my boyfriend and I split for the second or third time. I was left in a state of confusion and felt defeated again, but it was a different type of defeat. It was a feeling of intense vulnerability. I felt exposed and lost—two feelings I’ve always been good at avoiding.

    When I decided to trek fifty miles through the Andes Mountains, it was an attempt to find clarity. I hoped that hiking by myself in nature would bring sudden insight into what I had just experienced and what I needed to do next.

    I instead learned that clarity doesn’t arrive just because we demand it. Rather, clarity comes in its own time, typically after one has endured the uncomfortable but often necessary road of uncertainty.

    If you’re currently facing uncertainty in your career, relationships, or any other area of your life, perhaps some of my other lessons will be helpful to you.

    1. It will be painful—keep going anyway.

    On the third day of my hike, I grew nasty blisters on the heels and toes of my feet. I also felt a throbbing pain on the inside of my calves. Halfway through the day, simply putting weight on my foot became the most painful task.

    I was walking by myself on a dirt road, and I had no idea how much further I had to walk before reaching my campsite. I wasn’t even confident I was headed in the right direction.

    Okay, just walk to that point, I’d tell myself, looking about 100 meters ahead where the road curved or changed in some way. Maybe the view will change once you get there, I thought.

    A different view meant that I might suddenly see my campsite in the near distance. Not knowing kept me going because there was always the possibility that I was meters away from resting.

    Breaking the hike down into smaller chunks also helped me to stay motivated. If I imagined the total distance I had left to go, it was overwhelming.

    A journey of uncertainty guarantees pain. It’s uncomfortable. It’s vulnerable. It’s frustrating. Sometimes we want to lie down in the middle of the road and give up. It feels easier to stay in the same place than to walk toward something that’s unknown.

    But with uncertainty, there is no way out but through. Try to break it down into more manageable parts—can you make it through the day? The week? The next month?

    With uncertainty, you never know when you might turn the corner and suddenly see answers in sight. Tomorrow might offer insight, so why stop now?

    2. Distractions don’t solve uncertainty.

    The beauties of traveling alone are many, but they always come with a degree of loneliness. In Peru, it was difficult to wake up cold and alone in a tent, knowing I only had myself to talk with. I would’ve much rather reached my arm across to pull a warm body close.

    I was jealous of the couples I had encountered on the same trail who were hiking together. I was frustrated with my loneliness and annoyed with myself for being alone.

    Really, what I wanted was love to distract me from the uncertainty I was facing in my life. But I knew that if I wallowed in what I wanted instead of what I had to do, which was to pack my tent and all my other belongings into my backpack and move forward, I would stay stuck in the same place and wouldn’t get any closer to my destination.

    When we’re caught in a phase of uncertainty, it’s tempting to attach to distractions that’ll keep us from focusing on the discomfort we feel. The most appealing distraction when confused about life is to chase after opportunities that aren’t necessarily best for us. The panic we feel when we lack direction is so strong that we would rather seek mediocre, senseless options than stay in the uneasiness as we wait for clearer direction.

    Ultimately, waiting for direction leads us to our greater purpose. But we can’t follow the direction if we’ve already made a decision based on fear.

    3. Trust that there will be guides.

    The first time I went the wrong way along the trail was on day one. I had just walked through some sort of political event. Interested citizens sat along a ledge while they listened to a well-dressed man speak in a confident tone.

    After I passed, I took a left turn at a crossroads. I heard a voice behind me and turned around. It was one of the men from the group, pointing in the opposite direction. He had followed me a few steps up the trail, making an effort to redirect me. “Salkantay?” I said. He nodded.

    On the third day, I arrived at a small village where a family of three lived. After hiking a steep hill, I sat on a wooden stump by their home to rest. I bought and devoured two passion fruits from their garden.

    On my way out, I turned right on a dirt road. A boy about two years old saw me and pointed left. “Salkantay?” I said. He cocked his head. “La Playa?” I said the town where I was headed. He nodded and pointed left again. I turned around and continued to hike along the dirt road.

    On the last day, I passed a turn I needed to take. My senses stopped me. I had just passed a few hikers, and they weren’t behind me any longer. I pulled out a book of directions (which I’m never good at understanding), walked back, and found the small path that led me into the mountains.

    Without unfamiliar faces along the way to guide me, I would’ve easily wound up lost in the Andes Mountains. Maps and written directions aren’t always helpful when standing in a specific place.

    Sometimes, finding the way requires trust. If you haven’t found a sign to help guide you on your path of uncertainty, have faith that it’ll arrive in the right moment. The only way to find the signs is to keep walking—keep taking action and trying new things. The signs and guides are waiting for you to arrive.

    4. Take good care of yourself.

    Near the end of the trek, when my feet were blistered and my legs swollen, it was important that I had enough time to rest before the next day. I knew that in order to push forward, I had to take care of my body.

    I spent the evenings stretching, massaging my muscles, and wrapping tape around my blisters. Though the pain would still be there the next morning, it was a little more manageable than the night before. The pain had subdued just enough that I knew I could continue hiking.

    Since we’re never sure when a phase of uncertainty will end, it’s critical that we take care of ourselves throughout it. Creating time to rest and take care of ourselves—which for me is getting enough sleep, exercising, and journaling—ensures that we will have enough energy to push through the discomfort we feel.

    It’s when we lose our energy that we cling to distractions, miss important signs along the way, or give up. Trust that no matter how difficult a single day is, there is always space to pause and take a deep breath. Sometimes that’s all you might have energy for, and that’s okay. Without rest, there is no journey.

    —

    On my flight out of Peru, I peered out the window at the many trails that marked the earth’s skin like scars. I thought about the trek I had just experienced. I wondered, what did the trail look like from the sky?

    I imagine a life’s journey looks similar. It curves and zigzags through different terrain, some parts uphill, some downhill. It’s never a straight line.

    Uncertainty is a natural and guaranteed part of life. A journey isn’t intended to be seen from a bird’s-eye view. It’s rather meant to be lived in the moment through our own experiences. We don’t need to know what lies beyond what’s right in front of us. We’ll reach it eventually, in the right time.

    There are moments when we reach a lookout point and can make sense of the larger picture of our lives. From that perspective, we can look back at the journey we just accomplished. We can understand the connection between the series of events that have created our lives up to that point.

    But more often than not, we don’t have the ability to see our journeys from the lookout point. We instead see what it looks like right in front of us: a steep hill, thick trees blocking the view, and no signs in sight. We have doubts about what lies ahead.

    When we trust that there’s a grander view of the trail we see directly in front of us, we can muster the energy we need to carry us to a day when, finally, we reach a lookout point. From that view, everything makes sense. Trust that, regardless of what it looks like now, the lookout points are waiting for you along your path.

  • How to Tackle Fear and Anxiety Cognitively, Behaviorally, and Spiritually

    How to Tackle Fear and Anxiety Cognitively, Behaviorally, and Spiritually

    “The beautiful thing about fear is that when you run to it, it runs away.” ~Robin Sharma

    During my first-grade choir concert, my classmate, Meg, fainted from the top row of the bleachers, and in a subconscious gesture of empathy, I went down right after her, breaking my glasses and flailing on the gymnasium floor.

    It’s possible that this triggered some kind of coping mechanism in my brain, because I started fainting again and again.

    One time I fainted at the dentist’s office—immediately after the dentist injected me with my first round of Novocain—then months later in a hospital parking lot after a small medical procedure.

    I also fainted a few days after getting my ears pierced. I was showing my grandmother my new gold studs, and I happened to look toward the TV just as Nellie Olsen fainted during a Little House on the Prairie rerun, and that was enough, over I went.

    What affected me the most during those early years of growing up was not the tangible act of fainting, but my anxiety anticipating when and where I would faint next. Whenever I wasn’t moving, whenever I tried to be still, my thoughts traveled to the fear of fainting. And because of that, I tried to keep my mind constantly active.

    I had several tests, and the doctors found nothing medically wrong with me. I literally scared myself to the point of fainting. Though I never let fear prevent me from doing things, inner struggles and cautious dread were always present. It made living in the moment very difficult.

    Going to church became a major source of stress for me. I had time to think, worry, and become anxious. These were ideal fainting conditions for me.

    I’d have panic attacks during Sunday mass without anyone knowing. Moments of pulling my hair, pinching my skin, feeling my heart pounding out of my chest were common, all while trying to will myself from fainting.

    This continued for years.

    I seemed to outgrow my anxiety attacks after high school, and I continued through college and beyond, without thinking much about my prior angst. I got married and had three children. Then, during my late thirties, my anxiety returned with a vengeance, escalating to a fear of driving on the highway.

    Things got worse in my early forties when I developed major health concerns. Again, there was nothing physically wrong with me; I was purely manifesting physical symptoms from worrying about a certain disease or medical condition. It was quite a skill—one that I was not proud of, but one that certainly awakened me to the power of my mind.

    My fear ran deep and was so powerful that it physically controlled me.

    The more I tried to ignore my anxiety, the more it escalated until it gradually controlled the person I was becoming. I didn’t like “me” anymore.

    I was afraid of everything. I talked to my doctor, read every Louise Hay book, went to biofeedback, performed EFT, and saw a few therapists. I would do anything to remember who I was before the fear of living got in my way.

    The funny thing was, no one else noticed because this overwhelming anxiety never stopped me from doing anything. It just sucked the spirit out of me. No one knew that, to me, life felt really scary.

    I wanted to crawl up in a ball with my kids. I wanted to control every waking move I made and make sure we were all safe.

    I remember a profound moment one fall day after finishing a run. Out of breath and standing there with my hands on my knees, I looked up at the trees and saw a leaf floating from a tree. I stood and prayed that I’d learn how to let go and release my inner struggles and be as light and free as that leaf.

    That was when I decided I would not consume my every waking moment with this fear. I would be the person who chose to live life fully.

    So this is what I know now.

    To let go of something, you need to lean in.

    This is counterintuitive. We all have a built-in “fight, flight or freeze” response to stress, which is a physiological reaction that occurs in the presence of fear and is exhibited by the urge to flee, run, or freeze and do nothing.

    In many ways, anxiety can protect us from harmful situations. In other ways, when the threat is not harmful, it can prevent us from functioning at our fullest capacity and experiencing all that life has to offer.

    I spent many years of my life trying to push fear away and running as fast as I could from it. But what I needed to do was to allow myself to lean into fear, to work through it, to face it head on. I needed to show my anxiety and fear that I wasn’t afraid anymore.

    This was a frightening act. But the alternative was to continue to run—and this was even more terrifying.

    So I began to allow, to surrender, to trust. I stopped fighting and made a conscious choice to choose love over fear—again and again. Battling and rejecting a part of myself had only caused feelings of isolation and anguish.

    I searched to understand the power of my subconscious and began to process fainting as my defense mechanism. I realized that if I was going to move through this fear, I’d have to love and accept myself, including the anxiety within me.

    I stood firmly anchored in the ground of acceptance. Of all of me. And the result was a newer, more powerful version of myself—one that no longer was afraid to live.

    If you’re struggling with anxiety and/or fear, here are eight ways to move forward. In more severe instances, you may need the help of a medical professional.

    Cognitively

    Acknowledge your fear.

    This is a major first step. We often ignore our fears and anxiety for so long that they progress into a part of us.

    Compartmentalize your fear, separating it from yourself. Then peel back the layers and find out what it is that you fear. Is it disappointing others? Rejection? Failing? Something else? Recognize that it’s holding you back from becoming your true self.

    Fear is sneaky. It can be quite obvious, presenting as physiological symptoms, or it can be much more obscure. Procrastination, perfectionism, and overwhelm can all be forms of fear.

    Explore if any of these are showing up for you and consider how they may be contributing to your lack of progress.  When you pinpoint the underlying fear and how it is presenting itself, you diminish the power it has over you.

    Initially, I believed I was afraid of fainting. After much reflection with my coach and therapist, and as my thoughts evolved, I was able to identify my underlying fear—the fear of dying. Every time I fainted, my blood pressure would drop and I’d lose consciousness, essentially looking death in the eyes over and over again.

    Once I recognized this, even though it was still scary, the awareness allowed me to use coping skills to move forward.

    Lean into your fear.

    When you feel like running or fleeing, it’s time to face your fear with courage. Although our automatic response is often to run away, numb our feelings, or somehow distract ourselves, escaping only temporarily relieves anxiety. Fear will return, possibly in a different form, until you choose to confront it with kindness.

    Bring yourself into the present moment by noticing the sensations in your body. Where Is fear showing up as discomfort for you? In your chest? Your stomach? Your throat? Fully experience it.

    Befriend your fear.

    Let fear know that you’re not afraid of it. Ask it: What are you trying to tell me? What do you want me to know?

    What I learned from asking these questions was that fear was trying to keep me safe from harm. A part of my past needed to be acknowledged and fear was whispering, “You can’t move on and become your most powerful self until you work through this, my friend.”

    Then thank it for trying to protect you in the only way it knew how.

    Behaviorally

    Exercise.

    For me, running has always been a huge stress reliever. Whether it’s running or yoga or something in between, movement calms you down by releasing chemicals called endorphins.

    Make healthy choices.

    When I feel stressed, I limit my sugar and caffeine intake, since sugar crashes can cause irritability and tension, and stimulants like caffeine can worsen anxiety and even trigger panic attacks. A well-balanced diet full of healthy, whole foods will help also alleviate anxiety. Be sure to eat breakfast to keep your blood sugar steady, and stay hydrated to help your mind and body perform at their best.

    Breathe.

    Since I have made yoga and meditation a part of my daily routine, I’ve noticed a difference in how I react to stressful situations. Slotting this time into my morning ensures I get it done before the day gets busy. When you’re in the middle of a panic attack, it’s harder to move into meditation and deep breathing, so it’s helpful to make this an everyday practice.

    Spiritually

    Trust.

    Fear and anxiety can stem from self-doubt and insecurities. If you regularly work on accessing your inner wisdom, and acting on what you learn, you’ll develop more trust in your ability to do what’s best for you and handle whatever comes at you. You can begin to strengthen your relationship to your inner wisdom by journaling, meditating, and sitting in silence. This is an ongoing process that requires exploration.

    One of the most effective ways to build self-trust is to take small steps forward. Know that it can (and most likely will) be scary, but once you step out of your comfort zone, you’ll see that much of what you were afraid of was in your imagination. To make this easier, I often recall a time when I trusted myself, despite my self-doubt, and things turned out positively.

    Surrender

    When you have done all you can, let go. Discern what is outside of your control and find the courage to release all expectations of it. You may just find a sense of relief in allowing life to unfold naturally.

    —

    I still have moments when I get anxious and overly worried. In these moments, I think about the influence my mind has over my body. Perhaps it’s not about resisting my mind’s ability to control me, but rather redirecting its incredible power to work in my favor.

    And with that, I can move mountains.

  • How to Keep Going When Doubts and Fears are Holding You Back

    How to Keep Going When Doubts and Fears are Holding You Back

    “If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” ~Vincent Van Gogh

    I don’t think there is anything more liberating.

    At least nothing I’ve experienced at this point in my life.

    I’m sure it’s happened to some of you. Probably more times than you can count.

    The freedom I’m alluding to here is the moment when you do something that a part of your mind didn’t believe was possible.

    Interestingly, the word ecstasy comes from the Greek ekastis, meaning “to step outside of oneself.”

    And when you are able to rise above your doubts and fears, it can be absolutely ecstatic.

    But the process of getting there is not without mixed feelings. You may have a kind of Stockholm syndrome with the parts of your mind that are holding you captive. These doubts and fears are yours; they have been whispering in your ear, dictating your actions; and they’re hard to let go of.

    Last year I went through a period of being heavily influenced by my own doubts and fears. I was juggling some health issues and had recently started a Masters degree, all the while working full-time.

    I was soon exhausted and began to fear that I had taken on too much. This was compounded by a number of setbacks I had at work. The launch of a product that I had been working on for six months fell flat when sales were drastically less than I expected.

    Maybe it would be fair to say that they weren’t just setbacks. Actually, I’m going to call them failures. Because although when I take a step back, I can be diplomatic enough to call them setbacks, at the time, when I was completely involved in the outcome, they felt like nothing less than absolute defeats.

    But I didn’t quit on the project. I kept going forward, whether by my own hard-fought persistence, faith in something greater than myself, or even just a conditioned habit. Probably a bit of a mix of all three.

    And now, this year, things are starting to pay off. But the fruits of my labor are somewhat bitter-sweet, as I realize just how indoctrinated I was by my own doubts and fears.

    So I’ve done some reflecting, and I’ve identified the mental shifts that have helped me keep going and step outside of myself in times of need.

    Here are four ways to keep going when your doubts and fears are holding you back.

    Recognize that everyone has doubts and fears.

    When we are gripped by doubt and fears, they can feel strong, overwhelming, and completely unique to us. We feel we have to believe them because we don’t realize everyone feels these things—even incredibly successful people—and we can actually choose not to give in to them.

    For example, I recently told a friend that I often feel tired when things in my business don’t work out the way I expect. I was momentarily humbled when he replied, “You know that happens to everyone, right?”

    The human brain is wired to invest energy in things that are novel. When we recognize that our fears and doubts are common, we learn to give them less attention when they arise, which slowly drains their magnetic pull. And over time we get better and better at feeling the fear and doing it anyway, whatever it may be.

    What stands in the way, becomes the way.

    This phrase comes from the Roman Emperor and philosopher Marcus Aurelius. It’s a powerful reminder to that we can always work with what’s in front of us, and even use it to our advantage.

    Our brains have the tendency to see the world in terms of objects. We roughly sort these objects into “tools” and “obstacles.” If you look at obstacles as part of the path going forward, they transform into tools. However, if you only see potential tools as obstacles, you’ll quickly become overwhelmed by everything in your life that may stand in your way.

    Over the last few years, I’ve dealt with a chronic back injury, which has meant that I have to take frequent breaks from sitting down in order to manage the pain.

    Initially, I was frustrated that I couldn’t simply work for eight hours straight, without interruption. Fortunately, I’ve come to see the way I work as, well, just that—the way I work. It may be unconventional, but it’s still a tool that gets me to where I need to go, and not an obstacle that stands in my way. In fact, the breaks allow me a mental rest and help me to be just as productive as if I was able to work all day, maybe even more so.

    Come back from the future.

    Perspective is everything. We often feel doubt and fear when we’re fixated on our current situation. The longer we focus on our concerns, the more intense they appear.

    Our thoughts and feelings often change over time, and we can use that to our advantage. One way to do that is by realizing things have often turned out better than we once feared they would. We can take this a step further by coming back from an imaginary future and looking at the present moment through the same lens.

    I do this in my own life by visualising my future self looking back at any worrying situation. Sometimes I like to write down the question “What would the ninety-year-old me think about this situation?”

    For example, three months ago I decided to invest in a course to improve my marketing skills. The price didn’t break the bank, but it did create some anxiety about when money would come in and pay it off. When I asked the question of my future self, I immediately felt relieved, because I realized the anxiety was caused by a story about one month of income, and a lifetime of potential earnings was quick to put the concern into perspective.

    Collect wins somewhere else.

    Whether or not they recognize it or admit it, everybody has thousands of small successes and failures in their life. However, our minds can hone in on the failures and cause fear and doubts to run rampant. If you’ve begun to neglect the part of yourself that is successful, it’s incredibly useful to remind yourself that this part still exists.

    You can do this by intentionally doing something you know you’re good at and know will elicit positive feedback. For example, if you’re a talented artist, but you’re not feeling so confident at work, create something that you know will make you feel proud.

    This works because winning causes a dopamine spike in the brain, which leads to an increase in motivation and risk-taking behavior. The positive feedback loop can start from something as trivial as a board game, and creates the perfect antidote to fear and doubts: momentum and confidence.

    When the product I created fell flat, I spent a couple of weeks meditating for longer periods of time and pushing myself in the gym. This helped remind me that even though something I had invested time and energy in had failed—and I was very disappointed—I was still psychologically and physically strong, and my strength was the only tool I needed to try and try again.

    —

    These four ideas are relatively simple, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t incredibly effective. If you can put them into practice whenever you’re feeling held back by doubts or fears, you’ll begin to have more insights into what you are truly capable of—and you’ll begin to actually reach your potential.

    Doing something you previously didn’t believe possible is truly liberating, and the more you embrace these shifts in perspective, the better you’ll be able to tackle these worries in the future!

  • How to Love Yourself into Speaking Up When You’re Frozen in Fear

    How to Love Yourself into Speaking Up When You’re Frozen in Fear

    “Always speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.” ~Unknown

    You may not want to admit this to others, but I know the truth about you.

    You freeze, clam up, and shut down when tensions rise and your spidey-sense detects a hint of conflict in the air. You run for cover during the storm, and when it’s over, you judge yourself for not having delivered the perfect soliloquy in the heat of the moment to convey your point and get what you need and deserve.

    And then you collapse into a hot mess of blame and shame.

    I get it. I used to be an expert in hiding.

    I vividly recall finding myself in tears in a colleague’s office after a particularly difficult meeting. My work was sidelined, and it was made abundantly clear that my contribution and presence weren’t valued.

    I felt passed over, ignored, and worst of all, not seen.

    I was too scared to say anything in the moment, and I didn’t even have the right words to express what was on my mind.

    What I wanted to say was nothing out of the ordinary. But when you’re feeling intimidated, that really doesn’t matter. Even sharing something as benign as what you’ve been working on seems impossible, let alone requesting a teeny, tiny amount of air time to do so.

    I left work that day unable to make sense of what had happened and how to move through the emotional state that I was left in.

    Sadly, this wasn’t the only difficult interaction that I came across early on in my career. The other ones involved yelling, passive-aggressive remarks, dysfunctional team dynamics, and me, remaining silent, not knowing how to handle it all, while expertly judging myself for not doing better.

    Yes, I was that person.

    Perhaps you can relate?

    Maybe you’re afraid to confront a loved one who has violated your boundaries because you don’t want to damage the relationship. Or perhaps you’re in an abusive situation and you’re worried that others won’t believe all of the awful things you’ve lived though. Or maybe you’ve been “hiding” in the workplace, not wanting to broach a difficult issue because you don’t want to create conflict or lose your job.

    I get it. There are risks to rocking the boat. And sometimes those risks are worth taking because the cost of remaining silent is too high.

    That cost is carrying the trauma of these negative interactions inside of us. It lingers there, eating away at us, waiting to be released while it leaks out in unhealthy ways. We might take our frustration out on ourselves by overeating or drinking, or we might let our feelings build until one day we explode on some innocent person who doesn’t deserve our rage.

    And so, I’d like to share what I’ve learned about loving yourself into speaking up when you’re frozen in fear. My hope is that this will help you remember who you truly are in those difficult moments.

    So here goes…

    First and foremost—and I know that this is the very last thing that you want to do—stop thinking. Stop wondering. Stop second-guessing yourself and admit that you’re scared.

    I know it’s hard, but accept it. Accept it all—the tension, the anger, the fear, the raised voices, the freezing… all of it. The only way through is to first accept the situation for exactly what it is, and it certainly doesn’t mean agreeing with what happened.

    Then, and this is even scarier, I know, tell someone. Not anyone, but just one compassionate witness. Someone who will listen, not judge, and not tell you what to do next.

    This is one of the best ways to begin your healing. What stays inside of you unacknowledged and unspoken festers and turns into shame and/or rage. When you let someone else in and receive their empathy and understanding, you’re better able to offer these beautiful gifts to yourself.

    You’ll then be ready to understand (not with your head, but with your heart) that freezing is a brilliant response to feeling scared.

    We’re biologically wired to use this survival technique to help us ward off predators. My cat freezes every time I take her to the vet, and it’s no better than fighting or fleeing as a response. So please stop judging yourself for doing what the universe innately programmed you to do.

    And now, for the biggest leap of faith that you’ll be asked to take in this lifetime… To effect any real change, you’ll need to love yourself exactly as you are right now.

    That means loving the frightened, insecure, self-judging little one inside of you who hates herself* (or himself or themselves) for not doing better.

    Yes, her.

    Instead of telling her that she’s not good enough, speak to her in the way you’d talk to a child who froze in fear when confronted with a threatening situation. What might you say?

    “It’s okay… you’re safe now, you’re loved. No one can hurt you. You are enough, just as you are. You don’t need to change a thing.”

    Once that little one feels truly comforted, she’ll be ready to entertain the possibility of speaking up, and then find the courage to do so. Self-love creates strength, confidence, and resilience—and these are the things you need to give yourself a voice. You need strength to speak up, confidence to hold your ground regardless of how you’re received, and resilience to handle the response, whatever it may be.

    This may take a while.

    Have patience.

    When she does find her voice, she’ll stumble.

    Her words will come out all clunky at first. She’ll feel both embarrassment and exhilaration. Just let her be. Let her live through all of those wild and wonderful emotions, while telling her how incredibly proud you are of her.

    Eventually, she’ll come to see the brilliant wisdom in the unique voice that she’s been holding back. And she’ll learn how to finally love herself, even when she was the one who did something wrong.

    Please remember to celebrate her in that moment.

    As that little one becomes wiser, she’ll also realize that “resolution” doesn’t necessarily mean working it out with the other person. She’ll find the courage to speak her truth and walk away with integrity when necessary, finding comfort in the fact that she did her best even when others didn’t agree with her decisions.

    And now for the kicker… you’re seriously not going to believe this one, but trust me, it happens.

    Once you figure out how to speak up while feeling love and compassion for the scared little one inside of you, you’ll almost magically help others move out of their own fight, flight, and freeze reactions.

    And for the most part, you’ll happily discover that you can build bridges where you once saw impasses.

    But deep down somewhere you already know all of this, don’t you?

    My wish for you is that you allow yourself to live it a little sooner, so that life is a little less painful for you.

    But I also know that it’s through this struggle that you become stronger, so as I write these words I hesitate to even suggest taking that journey away from you. Just know that you will get there.

    Dedicated to CDM, the queen of love bubbles who had the infinite patience needed to teach me how to unfreeze.

    *Author’s Note: In this post, I use she/her pronouns because I’m speaking from my own lived experience. However, this message is meant for anyone it resonates with, regardless of gender identity. Please feel free to replace the pronouns with those that feel right for you.

  • How I Learned to Trust Others by Learning to Trust Myself

    How I Learned to Trust Others by Learning to Trust Myself

    “You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don’t trust enough.” ~Frank Crane

    I’ve had trust issues for as long as I can remember, but didn’t realize it until after my divorce.

    Divorce can be a traumatic experience, and in this case, it made me begin to take stock of my life. I began to reflect on my failed romantic relationships and why this was a repeat pattern for me.

    I realized then that I never let people in for fear they will let me down, belittle or make me feel small, or otherwise diminish me in some way. I keep people at a distance, and this impacts my ability to have close, connected relationships.

    I used to think I had trust issues because I grew up in a family where things were not “psychologically safe.” But I’ve come to realize there’s more to it than that.

    Have you ever struggled with trust issues thinking they were caused by something outside yourself? That trust was a matter of what other people did, how they treated you, or how they disappointed you? Maybe it’s time to consider that perhaps your trust issues are more about you than other people.

    While I may have some wounds from not receiving the emotional nurturing I needed when growing up, I have trust issues not because I distrust others, but because I don’t trust myself. What?!

    This was a surprising revelation. But, it helped me realize what I needed to do in order to truly trust other people—that was begin by trusting myself.

    You may have trust issues as well if: 

    • You view people with suspicion about their motives
    • You don’t share your true feelings
    • You assume the worst intentions by others
    • You make every interaction all about you—how could they do this to me?!
    • You doubt your own capabilities and decisions

    What happens when we are operating on a “non-trust” level? We keep ourselves closed off from all the opportunities available to us.

    Let me tell you a story about how this has played out in my life. One day I was out walking along a beautiful beach with a girlfriend. She said, “Wow—these guys around us are really checking you out.”

    “Really?” I asked.

    “That’s your problem!” she said. “You are oblivious.”

    And she was right. I was completely disengaged from the world around me because I didn’t trust it. I wasn’t open to people’s smiles, or their overtures, or even their kindness. I was basically checked out, and I rarely noticed when others made attempts at engagement.

    There have been many occasions when a person was about to open a door for me, but I was so busy being independent that I opened ir myself without even noticing their attempted act of kindness. This left me living a life that was mostly isolating and solo.

    Humans are social creatures, and we need human connection to feel alive and complete. When we cut ourselves off from this life-giving force because we are suspicious and don’t trust others, we harm ourselves more than any act of untrustworthiness we could experience.

    Yes, people will sometimes disappoint us, and yes, people will occasionally do malicious things. But, in the end, we have to get over this. We need to move on from continuously licking our wounds so we can heal them and start living fully again.

    As children we were naturally trusting, sharing our toys, our thoughts, and our hearts with abandon. It’s not until we were trained to distrust the world and “not talk to strangers” that we began to lose our innocence and belief in the inherent goodness of humanity.

    Or, we didn’t receive strong nurturing as kids, and this caused a wound that never seemed to heal properly. While it can be good to have a healthy dose of skepticism so as not to become victims—and we need to teach our kids to stay away from strangers to keep them safe—it is not healthy to remain closed off and shut down from the world.

    We must learn to trust despite knowing we may get hurt. It is only by opening our hearts that we can have flourishing relationships, see the opportunities around us, and begin to live a more fulfilled life.

    What happens when people let you down? You accept that they are imperfect beings and move on. What happens when you let yourself down? You do the same thing. This is where I think I got hung up. I didn’t trust myself, and this actually made it impossible to trust other people.

    We often project our feelings and beliefs onto others without consciously realizing we’re doing it. If we don’t trust ourselves to do the right things, we might project that onto other people and assume they too will let us down. If we don’t believe in our own inherent goodness, we likely won’t believe in anyone else’s.

    I had a hard time trusting myself because I never accepted myself as a flawed and imperfect being. I could never get over my own disappointment when I let myself down. What are some ways I let myself down?

    • Letting myself remain in an abusive relationship
    • Lying about my drinking addiction and hiding it from my family and friends
    • Not following through on a job opportunity I was too afraid I might get rejected
    • Not having the confidence to follow my dreams
    • Acting in ways that were counter to my moral values

    We can lose trust in ourselves in many ways, but then we can also build that trust back up.

    For me, I built my trust by realizing I wasn’t living up to my greatest self. I began to make conscious choices to change that. I got help for my drinking problem. I found the courage to take baby steps toward my ambitions, and each time I did, I built on that success. I focused on developing my personal strengths and growing as a person. Most of all, I strived to do the best I could in any given situation.

    Did I fail sometimes? Did I still let myself down? Of course, I’m imperfect. And this is okay. I found that if I was doing my best I could allow the occasional stumble without beating myself up or deciding that I couldn’t trust myself at all. And I could do the same for other people. If they occasionally disappointed me, I could recognize that this is what it means to be human.

    I realized I didn’t have to see things as black and white—that people, myself included, are either trustworthy or not. Because life is all about shades of gray. Sometimes people will let us down, but that doesn’t mean they always will.

    Even if people make mistakes, and even if we occasionally need to cut ties with people who continually hurt us, we can trust that most people have good intentions. And if we set the intention to always do our best, we can trust that we generally will, even if we falter at times.

    The way to resolve trust issues is to learn to trust yourself. When you believe that you are always doing your best, you’ll be able to extend this same belief to others. This will help you go out into the world and be open to people and experiences with curiosity and a pure heart, without bitter preconceptions.

    When we live a life full of integrity and trustworthiness to our deepest self, we can better learn to accept others’ mistakes and flaws, even if they hurt us. We can also learn to trust that despite what others may do, or how they might disappoint us, we will be able to get through it, our faith in humanity in tact.

    This will help us embrace life more fully and flourish in our widest and fullest potential—to spread our wings and fly.

  • Yes, I Am Afraid to Fly, But I Won’t Let My Fear Control Me

    Yes, I Am Afraid to Fly, But I Won’t Let My Fear Control Me

    “Feel the fear and do it anyway.” ~Susan Jeffers

    Let’s do a thought exercise together.

    I have flown, I don’t know two or four times a year since I was eighteen and a few times before that, and I am now almost thirty-seven. On the low end that puts me around forty times. On the high ends that is, what seventy-five times in my life? Let’s split the difference and say I have flown fifty-five times because I have never kept track of things like that.

    Also, I have jumped out of planes before. Yep, it was beautiful, and seriously it is only the first step that is the hardest, because after that you are totally involved. So, if that is something you want to do, just close your eyes and step out. But I digress.

    Recently (over the last two years), I have become terrified to fly. I blame it on a trip where I had a bit of what I would consider severe turbulence. Really, though, it has just been a growing fear. With each flight, with each significant life event I have been ill prepared to handle, with each death I had to fly home for, the fear and anxiety has quietly and sometimes loudly and harshly grown.

    Most flights I have not enjoyed. However, there was a time I do remember when I loved to fly. The spooling of the engines, the way you are pushed back into your seat at take-off, that moment of lightness you feel right at the top of the take-off.

    I loved watching out the little window as the people, trees, and buildings would get smaller and smaller as you climbed to altitude. I even loved when we would fly over different farm areas and see the different colored plots of ground.

    Then there is the opportunity to watch the sun rise and set from 30,000 feet in the air. Morning flights are so great for this. It’s just darkness with little color lights below, but as you watch out into the darkness, the nothingness, slowly the darkness begins to turn into these beautiful, rich, and warm reds, yellows, and oranges. They pull across the sky and stretch into memories and dreams almost.

    And the clouds, I love the fluffy ones, the heavy, wintry ones that are filled with a mixture of snow and rain, and the long, airy ones. These are my favorite; they stretch and dance across the sky like little fairy wisps.

    When I think about it now, safely on the ground, it feels beautiful and calm. Picturesque as I travel to some place beautiful that is full of opportunity to explore.

    Flying offers me a mixture of beauty and fear. The last time I flew was the worst I have ever had. The flight itself was merciful and calm. However, I have never had a panic attack that severe before.

    I knew I had to fly. I didn’t want to. With every fearful bone in my body, every muscle tensing at just the idea of leaving my house, I really didn’t want to. But I had to. I tried to figure out how long it would take to drive, if there was a way to cancel, if I could just say no.

    Those weren’t options. I had to fly.

    So, I did my preparations. I have been a long believer in cognitive based therapy and the thought records my therapist has used to help me.

    I did as much research as I could on statistics of flying, specific airlines, the best time of the day to fly; I watched turbulence maps, checked weather forecasts as well as historical weather maps. I read safety numbers and statistics galore from reputable and not-so-reputable places on the internet.

    I found calming techniques like writing with your non-dominant hand over and over again, listening to quiet and calming music (I chose loud and high-based EDM), and coloring. I even got prescribed medicines from my primary care physician to take the edge off.

    I did as much preparation that I thought I could. But I was still afraid. My body ached and pulled from all of the adrenaline. I was terrified in a way that I have never been before, and even with the medication my doctor gave me to calm my nerves, the thought record in hand, and coping mechanisms in place, it was still incredibly hard to get on the plane.

    I almost didn’t do it, and if I didn’t need to get there by a certain time that day, I would have driven the fourteen hours to my destination.

    It is amazing how fear can control us, can take us to that lizard brain level and win. That’s a hard and harsh reality for me because there are so many places I want to go. So many things I want to see and experience.

    Not everyone wants to travel. Not everyone has a calling to their soul that says, “But what’s over there?” What have you not seen, felt, or experienced that could be just on the other side of that mountain? But I do. I am a traveler at heart.

    There are so many places across this world that are filled with cultures and history I have not seen or experienced in the very real sense of just being present in it. Where you can taste the excitement, feel it in the air and in the music that has its own unique song for those who listen close enough.

    I love going new places, meeting strangers, breathing in the experiences with every breath. I crave that. I dream about it. And of course, I save pictures and research these exquisite places and daydreams to my Pinterest boards because I am unsure I can break the fear enough to go.

    That is until recently. I had a moment of pause the other day. A moment of realization that struck a chord so much that I am writing to you.

    I have this pain in my leg. It has been here for months and when I called the doctor to schedule they immediately thought it was a blood clot and sent me directly to the emergency room.

    After many tests, they determined it wasn’t a blood clot in my big important veins and sent me home. I still have no idea what it is or why it causes me so much pain, but I know it isn’t a blood clot.

    However, a few days ago it was aching noticeably again and a moment of “oh gosh” hit me. Being an anxious person, the immediate question of “could it be cancer?” came to my mind.

    For many people, I am sure that question probably doesn’t pop up. But my mother got cancer at thirty-eight, and my thirty-seventh birthday is less than a month away. It was breast cancer and she’s fine now. But my stepdad died of cancer two and a half years ago. Watching his experience of slowly getting sicker and sicker and the cancer spreading across his body still haunts my thoughts.

    For the record, his was also not cancer in the leg. But sometimes your mind just starts with an idea and attaches to it immediately and starts going with the what-ifs.

    At that moment, though, I didn’t play out what-ifs; I didn’t think about the medical procedures and things I would have to do if it really did turn out to be cancer. My thoughts did not do the dizzying spiral they normally do. I had only one thought at that moment.

    I went immediately to the looming fear of flying and my desperate, aching desire to see more of the world and asked myself if this was really cancer, if there was a sickness that was about to affect my entire life, would I no longer be petrified of flying?

    I realized at that moment I have a 100% chance of dying. Absolutely, unequivocally, I am eventually going to die. And it very much could come from this random pain in my leg, from cancer, or even from a plane crash (although statistically I have a much greater chance of the cancer than the crash).

    But I realized something I had never before, and that is I could die today. Now don’t get me wrong, I have had many days and thoughts of dying over the years. Through weird and not even logical ways of dying. But this moment was real, was higher than my lizard brain fears, was calm.

    And I had to decide, am I going to do the things I fear so I can see the things I dream of?

    I realized it’s okay that I am still afraid, it’s okay that I need medicine from my doctor, strong coping mechanisms, and research, but I have to go. If exploring is important to me the way I feel it is, then I am going to have to explore and accept that anxiety and fear might be traveling companions, but they do not have to be roadblocks. Not anymore.

    So, I am writing to you, people I don’t know, who may experience similar things, who may be terrified of flying too, to offer you this simple yet real realization.

    I am still very much afraid today, but I am going to book my next flight and leave room for my anxiety and fear to come along. Maybe one day they won’t accompany me on my trips, but I know I am going to ensure they do not stop me in the meantime.

  • How Failure Holds the Key to a Meaningful, Successful Life

    How Failure Holds the Key to a Meaningful, Successful Life

    “Perfectionism doesn’t believe in practice shots.” ~Julia Cameron

    Within each of us lurks a perfectionist. And perfectionists set themselves up for a lot of pain in life.

    How so? I’ll come to that.

    First let me describe how our first child took her first step. She was less than ten months old. A very bright girl, who wanted nothing less than my approval at all times.

    On one occasion, a few months previous to that, she was crawling on the carpet and picked up some small thing. As she started to put it in her mouth, I called out loudly “No!”

    That was the first time she experienced any negative or critical words from me. Otherwise, I had been steadily adoring. What was her response?

    She fell flat on the floor and remained perfectly still. It was as if she had been laid flat by a sledgehammer blow.

    That’s how much she had come to rely on my approval.

    So, what happened when one day she could finally stand up? I decided, as a very proud parent, to teach her how to walk right away.

    Now, walking is easy for someone who’s already confident with standing up. It’s more challenging for someone who’s just learned how to stay on their feet unsupported. I was too young and foolish and overeager to think through all that.

    In my excitement, I stood by her and urged, “You can walk. Just do this. Look at me. Just lift a foot like this and put it forward.”

    In retrospect, I was too hasty and cruel. I’ve grown to recognize that everything happens in its own good time.

    Anyhow, I was young and foolish then. So, allow me to tell you the rest of the story.

    Our baby looked very doubtful. I demonstrated a step once again. She remained hesitant.

    After some more cajoling from me, she decided to do something.

    She took the oddest first step you can imagine.

    Did she lift one foot as I kept urging? No.

    She simply hopped forward, keeping both feet on the ground. Like a baby kangaroo. That was only minutes after she had first stood up without support.

    Of course, not long after that she was walking very confidently, and then running, and has gone on to do amazing things with her life.

    Imagine if we were all so afraid of failure that we always kept both feet on the ground for safety. How much would that interfere with a full and meaningful life? How would that affect our ability to do whatever we considered to be good and important?

    We can see this quite clearly in babies. In order to be able to lift their head, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes flop.

    In order to learn how to crawl, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes fall flat on their face.

    In order to learn how to stand, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes fall in a heap.

    In order to learn how to walk, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes tumble.

    In order to learn how to cycle, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes fall off and get bruised.

    In order to learn how to swim, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes need rescuing.

    In order to learn how to read and write, they need to accept that they’ll get many things hilariously wrong.

    In order to learn to love wholeheartedly, they need to accept that some people will betray their trust.

    Whenever they want to do something that’s good and important in their lives, they need to accept the possibility of failure.

    It’s easy to acknowledge such facts, but it’s more difficult to live by them.

    Why is it that we often struggle with failure? Why do we so often consider it as a full stop rather than a necessary comma in our life story? Why does it seem more like a trap than a springboard?

    It may have something to do with our need for approval.

    Our daughter didn’t want to hear the word “No!” from her beloved parent. It crushed her the first time she encountered it from me.

    Only after I picked her up and comforted her did she loosen up and smile again. She was learning that she could get things wrong and still remain completely lovable to me.

    People can be good to us. They can build us up. They can teach us that it’s okay to fall and fail, because we’ll still be completely lovable.

    However, we’re all human beings. We don’t always do what we set out to do. We don’t stick to doing what we know to be good and important.

    As a result, we often wound others and are too often wounded by them.

    That tends to suck us into the rat race. Not content with being intrinsically and unshakably lovable, we tend to look for reassurance. And too often we seek it by trying to be one up on others.

    We sometimes pounce on the mistakes or flaws of others because it allows us to feel superior despite our own mistakes or shortcomings. We sometimes become overly reliant on praise because we’re terrified that criticism confirms how worthless we are under the surface. 

    All this tends to make life a bit like walking on thin ice. Even when it looks as if we’re winning, we’re on edge because we fear that the ice might give way at any moment. I know, because I’ve struggled with these things myself.

    Imagine a different way of living. A calm and courageous way of reaching for whatever we consider to be good and important in our lives, with full acceptance of whatever failures come our way.

    Paradoxically, the perfectionist is more likely to fail because they’re too afraid to bring out the best in themselves. They’re so hungry for approval, and so afraid of failure, that they often don’t do what they know to be good and important.

    They keep the safety wheels on their bicycles even though it slows them down. That’s because they’re convinced that failure will confirm their worthlessness.

    Imagine a different way. Imagine having a deep, unshakable anchor within yourself. An anchor of self-acceptance. No storms in life can then blow you out of the safe harbor of being intrinsically lovable.

    The baby who’s uncertain of being lovable might be too afraid to attempt anything worthwhile. It’s the same with us adults.

    Our perfectionism goes hand in hand with fear of failure. It’s like a prison. However, we have the key, or we can find it.

    This may be the most important lesson life has taught me, and I’m going to share it.

    You can get the key to calm, courageous living by letting others know that they are unshakably lovable despite their failures and mistakes and flaws.

    When you give this gift to others, you begin to believe it yourself. Not as a sterile principle. But as a reality that you feel deep in your being.

    Once you have this key, perfectionism loses its stranglehold over you. You recognize that you are intrinsically worthy and lovable, just like every other human being.

    Life becomes really good and inviting, failure can no longer terrorize, and you get more good and important things done.

    Once you’re prepared to fall flat on your face, life starts to sparkle.

  • Don’t Let Your Fear Paralyze You

    Don’t Let Your Fear Paralyze You

  • It’s All About Perception: You Can Look Through the Lens of Love or Fear

    It’s All About Perception: You Can Look Through the Lens of Love or Fear

    “We are not responsible for what our eyes are seeing. We are responsible for how we perceive what we are seeing.” ~Gabrielle Bernstein

    One of the things I love about this journey of personal growth is that we get to learn the same lessons over and over again, until they finally sink in on a visceral level. I love it when I hear or read the same insights repeatedly, from various sources and at different stages along my own path.

    Recently, at a low point in my life, I re-encountered this fundamental teaching in Gabrielle Bernstein’s book The Universe Has Your Back: 

    Every single situation, thing, and person in our lives may be seen through one of two lenses: the lens of fear or the lens of love.

    These are profoundly different ways to view the exact same circumstances. Nothing on the outer level has to change for you to experience a radical shift in perception: you simply have to change the lens you’re looking through.

    When I read this, I realized that I’d been caught in a downward spiral of negative thinking. Yes, seemingly “bad” things have been happening in my life recently, but was it true that I had no choice but to feel bad about them?

    As an experiment, I decided to try describing my current life and circumstances from each perspective. This is how things looked through the lens of fear:

    I am a woman in deep middle age, alone and completely without romantic prospects. My financial situation is dire. I do almost nothing that is fun or exciting. I work an unskilled job and fritter away the rest of my time without meaning or purpose.

    It isn’t pretty, is it? I challenged myself to be brutally honest, knowing that what isn’t acknowledged can’t be changed. No wonder I had been feeling hopeless and depressed, with this story running through the back of my mind! Just reading it makes me want to crawl under a rock.

    Here is a look at my life through the lens of love:

    I am learning all the time, and am deeply engaged in understanding life and growing as a person.

    I’m a great mom; I have a wonderful, nurturing relationship with my daughter and am actively supporting her in growing into independence. I am helping my parents make an important transition. I’m nurturing my relationships with my siblings and friends.

    I help and inspire many people through my writing and coaching. I have prospects of financial security through multiple avenues.

    I’m healthy and young-looking; a loving, kind, and fun person who attracts others easily. I really enjoy my work and my colleagues. I live in a cute apartment in a fun and vibrant neighborhood. My present is meaningful and my future is bright and full of hope.

    That feels so much better! Same life, different lens. Nothing changed on the outside, but everything changed on the inside. You can do this exercise with literally anything or anyone. I tried it on my ex-husband, who has been at the root of many of my recent troubles. Here he is through the eyes of fear:

    He’s a total loser and impossible to work with. He’s selfish and unevolved. He’ll never learn or change. I’m powerless to remove myself from this situation.

    And through the lens of love:

    He’s scared and feels bad about himself. He doesn’t know how to take responsibility, so he lashes out at others instead. He feels out of control and thinks he has no choice but to do what he’s doing. I am learning tons through this experience! 

    This exercise (probably) won’t change my ex-husband, and it doesn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy about him, but it does help me feel less triggered by his behavior and is thus more likely to contribute to a positive outcome. At the very least, it simply feels better to think this way—and that’s worth a lot!

    Can you think of something in your life that you might be seeing through the lens of fear? Try describing it, in all its negative “glory”—don’t hold back. This is not the time to be enlightened; you want to really know what story is running the show. Acknowledge that on some level, at least some of the time, this feels like truth to you.

    Then do the opposite. What does he/she/it look like through the eyes of love? What’s the most positive spin you can put on the situation? Don’t make anything up. This is not an exercise in fantasizing or sugar-coating. This is not about talking yourself into believing that something or someone that’s bad for you is actually good.

    Instead, it’s about trusting that even the worst situations hold the seeds of good, if only for the learning they bring about. It’s looking for the silver lining. Choosing to see yourself as a hero rather than a victim.

    When you read or say each of these stories, how do you feel? We can choose between these two feelings—but it’s a choice that must be made multiple times a day. Fear is a habit that takes sustained effort to conquer. What helps me is to remember that it doesn’t matter how many times I fall off the beam, as long as I keep getting back on it!

    One of my teachers often quotes the Course in Miracles: “I chose wrongly, but I can choose again.” Gabrielle Bernstein says that a measure of our progress is how quickly we realize when we’re out of alignment with love and make the choice to re-align with it. Though we’ll never be completely free of fear, we can learn to quickly return to love.

    Another thing that helps me is to acknowledge and have compassion for the very real emotions I feel when caught up in my fear story. I don’t find it effective to simply “will” myself into a feeling of love and joy. Instead, I say something like: “I recognize and honor that I’m feeling sad and scared, and I choose to realign with love.”

    This reminds me that there is a choice to be made, because when we’re in the grips of the fear story it can seem like the only possible interpretation of events. It gives me a little bit of breathing space just to acknowledge how I’m feeling and to follow the trail back to the story that I’m telling. Then I can choose a different story (by looking through a different lens) and wait for my feelings to catch up.

    Your feelings will always reflect the story you’re telling, so they are your best indication of whether you’re looking through the lens of fear or the lens of love. This is how it works: Lens –> story –> feelings.

    It’s tempting to think that we have to wait for something external to change before we can feel good, but it’s incredibly freeing to realize we have the power to change our feelings by changing our perception and choosing to look through the lens of love.

  • The Past May Have Shaped Us, But We Have the Power to Change

    The Past May Have Shaped Us, But We Have the Power to Change

    “If you want to fly, you have to give up the things that weigh you down.” ~Toni Morrison

    Our very first relationship is the one we develop with ourselves. However, even that one is shaped by outside forces.

    You may or may not believe that we choose our family. Regardless of your position regarding how your soul made it to your parents’ household, the truth is that the environment we are born into determines a great deal of the rest of our lives. This is especially true about the way we relate with ourselves and others.

    We learn by observing and experiencing the dynamics in our home. Our brains absorb the discourses. The judgments passed over us and the stories told about us become a part of our personality. The words we hear from the voices around us become embedded into our inner voice.

    We end up with a creation from the hands of Dr. Frankenstein: a patched up combination of voices that we later adopt as our own. That voice plays a huge role in how we develop a relationship with ourselves and, therefore, with those around us.

    The outside world shaped the inner reality that, in turn, will facilitate how we relate to that outer world.

    We learn from the way that our caregivers react to stress, from how they manage their anger, and how they engage in arguments.

    We learn from how they treat themselves, us, and the rest of the world.

    We learn about limitations and about fear.

    We learn to worry and to lie.

    We learn to yell out and to bottle it all in.

    We learn to over-react and to act like leaves at the mercy of the wind.

    We learn to micromanage and to be oblivious to life.

    We can learn the extremes. However, we can also learn balance.

    What is your vision for yourself? I’m talking about a real life vision, not about your annual income goal, or your income-to-debt ratio, or that degree you’ve been meaning to get. I’m not talking about the car you want or the trip you’ve dreamed of. Not that those things are bad or meaningless; they’re simply not a vision, they’re goals.

    What I am asking is: What is your vision? What state of being do you wish to create for yourself? What kind of relationships to you want to nurture? How do you want to feel? 

    My parents did their best to give me the best they had to give. I learned about hard work, being of service in the community, and believing in the divine. However, I did not develop anger management and conflict resolution skills, calming strategies, a healthy self-concept, or effective communication and decision-making skills.

    In other words, I was a typical clueless adult who was able to make money and run the rat race functionally. But I knew very little of myself, or how to develop healthy relationships with myself and others.

    As a matter of fact, I had no idea what healthy relationships looked and felt like. This led to a bumpy road that involved quite a few panic attacks, aggression, toxic relationships, isolation, and a social media and sugar addiction. The details of my journey are truly irrelevant. However, the lessons gained do have value.

    It started with answering questions I had never asked myself. Also, tools such as meditation, counseling, spiritual work, a lot of reading, journaling, praying, and developing a support village assisted me in the journey.

    Being open to the process is quintessential. So, I invite you to address the following questions with an open heart and observe your thoughts about yourself and others.

    Take note of the things you visualize on a daily basis. Do your visualizations match your vision? Or are they hindering it?

    What does a healthy relationship with yourself feel like?

    How about the conversations you have with yourself? How did that voice form?

    Where do these stories about yourself come from? Are you truly that person?

    How is your relationship with yourself? Are you hyper-critical? Do you “bash” on yourself? Or do you make excuses for yourself?

    What type of relationships do you envision for your journey?

    What type of narratives do you create in your mind with those who surround you? Do you imagine arguments? Do you mentally practice “come back phrases”? Do you spend time rehearsing irrelevant hypothetical situations? Do you declare negative labels on the rest of the world?

    Your early caregivers started the work of raising you, but you are the one responsible for continuing it. We are never done growing. You are not done. The universe is not done with you. Now it’s your turn to help yourself create the reality you envision for yourself.

  • What’s Helped Me Get Out of My Head and Do Things That Scare Me

    What’s Helped Me Get Out of My Head and Do Things That Scare Me

    “Don’t let the fear of what could happen make nothing happen.” ~Unknown

    I knew it was coming.

    But as I sat there on the first day of the seminar, my stomach still did a little turn when the trainer announced the exercise we’d be doing over our lunch break:

    The dreaded pizza walk!

    I knew this was the trainer’s wry (but equally as unnerving) riposte to Tony Robbins’ famous fire walks. But right then, I would have much rather taken my chances with the coals.

    The idea is simple: Go into a shop, restaurant, or other public establishment and make an absurd and bold request; for example, walk into a hardware store and ask for a pizza.

    Easy? Maybe.

    As we broke for dinner there was lots of nervous chatter amongst the trainees, but I chose not to engage with the others. I wanted to get out there and face these pizza demons as soon as possible.

    Now, the aim of the exercise on one level seemed obvious: to teach us to be more forthright, in businesses, in our relationships, in life.

    The bolder the requests we make, the less ridiculous they’ll seem, and the easier it will be to make other bold requests. Thus we can go home and feel more comfortable speaking our truth, asking for what we want, and generally showing up in life more confidently.

    Or so I thought. Because what I actually learned from this exercise was much more powerful.

    After leaving the building where we’d been, I walked down the main street, which was in fact the Baker Street.

    So, as I passed Sherlock’s ‘house’ and the eager tourists queuing outside, I began looking around for my target.

    There were a few souvenir shops I could pick. A Subway restaurant (of course!), a few bars, but nothing that really took my fancy.

    (Or rather, if I’m honest, I knew I had an hour to do this and it all felt too edgy and I wanted to put it off as long as possible.)

    So I ducked into a Nando’s Restaurant and had some chicken. (Oh, the irony!)

    As I ate my half Piri Piri chicken (medium-hot with rice, if you’re interested), I contemplated my task.

    It felt silly to be so up in my head and nervous about this simple, innocuous exercise.

    What was the worst that would happen? Perhaps a bemused stare from the shop worker at best.

    So why was I shaking just thinking about it?

    If you’re thinking I’m being daft and wussy as you read this, I encourage you to try this for yourself. It’s not as easy as it seems. In fact, making that bold request can feel pretty scary.

    But then again, is that really true?

    Because the insight I had next changed a lot of things for me.

    You see, I realized that what the trainer actually wanted us to learn from this experience was something completely different from my original notion.

    As the clock ticked away and I saw that we were due back in ten minutes, I knew it was now or never. I had to make my absurd request. I had to do the pizza walk.

    I also knew that I had to just get it done, to stop waiting to feel ready and just get to it. Action was key.

    So as I passed the next shop, a newsagent, I went in. I strolled up to the counter, looked the guy straight in the eyes, and, poker-faced, said:

    “Can I have a cheeseburger and large fries please?”

    And it was weird.

    My immediate feeling in that moment was actually one of real elation. I felt dizzy but happy, like I’d just nervously jumped out of a plane and now found that my parachute had opened and I could enjoy the float to earth.

    Of course, the man behind the counter didn’t appear to be experiencing any of this. He just looked a little confused and taken aback.

    Yet I also felt there was something else present in him. Compassion maybe? Concern?

    I’d jarred us both out of our day-to-day reality and allowed us to be supremely present with each other. We connected on a deeper level.

    In that moment, we dropped out of being on autopilot and a more profound interaction could take place.

    (Again, I’m not sure that the man behind the counter assessed it all this way, but I felt it!)

    Next he kind of stuttered something about having some sandwiches in the chiller, and I was suddenly overcome with warmth toward him—that even in this bizarre situation he was trying to help this strange man at his counter.

    From nowhere I heard myself say:

    “It doesn’t matter about the cheeseburger actually. I’ll have a Lotto scratchcard, but can you make sure it’s the winning one?”

    I was having fun now. Still totally present and enjoying this interaction.

    Thankfully. I think my new friend was beginning to enjoy it too, as he play acted choosing the right scratchcard, which he assured me was the winning one.

    I thanked him, paid, and left. As I stepped outside onto that cold February afternoon I saw something I’d not truly, insight-fully seen up to now.

    You see, I’d spent the last hour stuck in my head worrying about this event.

    I’d been living in an imagined future where the event went really bad, where I felt silly, where I was ridiculed. And these thoughts had made me really fearful of making this silly request. My confidence had dropped and it had almost stopped me from taking part.

    But what actually happened was that when I did make the request I was truly in the moment. I was living in real life, not in my imagination about what this might look like.

    And more importantly, in the moment I was so much more resilient, confident, creative, and connected than I’d given myself credit for. So much so that I forgot all about that imagined reality and just lived in actual reality.

    This insight was massive for me because that’s how we can all be, quite a lot of the time.

    This is how we can show up with our careers, in our relationships, in life.

    We get so stuck in our thinking that we can almost talk ourselves out of doing things we want to do.

    We second-guess ourselves, we make stuff up about what people might think about us, and then we sit with those thoughts and go over and over them until they start to look real. In that process we always underestimate our resilience and our moment-to-moment creativity.

    What I really saw that day was that it’s never the future event we fear. It’s only ever our thinking about that future event.

    And if it’s just our own thinking—and not the imagined, self-created ‘event’—then why do we give it so much attention?

    I see now that there have been loads of times in the past when I’ve worried and stressed about things, only for them to be fine, even enjoyable when they actually happened.

    I’m sure you’ve got lots of examples you can recall right now as you think about your own life.

    The more we can explore this and shine a light on what’s going on, the more grounded and confident we become.

    What would it mean to you if you could use all this anxious energy for good use?

    What would it mean if you could quickly drop out of worrying about future events and stay present?

    Let’s be clear here, we are only ever able to do anything right now, in this moment. When we live in that scary future world we have no power. We don’t exist there except in our thinking.

    By exploring this deeper, I know it’s allowed me to be calmer, more confident, and more productive in my work. A better human being even.

    I don’t take things so personally any more. I don’t spend needless hours and days worrying about what might happen.

    I stay more in the moment, which means when I’m at work I’m no longer in my head wondering if people will want to hire me, or what they think of me, or if I’m going to be able to get them the results they want. When I’m with friends and loved ones I’m not living in my thinking about what’s going on; I’m enjoying being present and in the now with them.

    This frees up my attention to really listen to what they’re saying, to connect with them on a deeper level. And in doing so I can have so much more impact than if I was trying to second-guess the situation or worrying about what will happen next.

    How do you stay more present?

    Remind yourself that, no matter how real the future event looks in your mind, your feelings don’t indicate anything about the outcome of that event; they are just a response to your thoughts in that moment.

    Your feelings have no idea what will happen in the future.

    Like me, you might just find that what, in your imagination, seems really scary is actually incredibly liberating and enjoyable when it actually happens.

    So next time you catch yourself stuck in your head, simply take a moment to step back and notice where your attention is.

    Is it in your thinking, or in life?

    In asking yourself this you’ll automatically drop back into life, where you have everything you need to really connect with the person in front of you.

    And if you were wondering, it wasn’t the winning scatchcard.

    You can’t win ’em all!