Tiny Buddha

Tag: growth

  • How to Thrive in Life after Surviving Cancer

    How to Thrive in Life after Surviving Cancer

    “Have a little faith in your ability to handle whatever’s coming down the road. Believe that you have the strength and resourcefulness required to tackle whatever challenges come your way. And know that you always have the capacity to make the best of anything. Even if you didn’t want it or ask for it, even if it seems scary or hard or unfair, you can make something good of any loss or hardship. You can learn from it, grow from it, help others through it, and maybe even thrive because of it. The future is unknown, but you can know this for sure: Whatever’s coming, you got this.” ~Lori Deschene

    Isn’t it amazing how some days are etched in your mind forever and other days are just lost in the wind? One day that is etched in my mind forever is December 27, 2006. This is the day I was told I had breast cancer. While breast cancer is common, being twenty-six years old with breast cancer isn’t that common.

    So here I was, twenty-six years old with breast cancer saying to myself, “Well f*ck, that sure throws off the plans I had for basically anything.” I quickly fell into fear, worry, and “why me?”. I will spare you the details of treatment; it wasn’t any fun. I lost my hair and my dignity and fell into depression when life returned to “normal.”

    Whatever normal is, I was living it. However, nothing was normal. I didn’t know how to live without a doctor’s appointment to go to. I mean, all I wanted was an end to the endless appointments and here I was without them, and I couldn’t figure out what to do.

    So, I took lots of naps because I was exhausted, or so I thought. Well, it turns out I wasn’t exhausted; I was depressed. I was alone with thoughts of wondering when my cancer would come back. I was sucked into a pit of despair that I had never seen before. Who was I becoming? The person who sat in their pajamas all day while I worked from home—yep, that was me.

    I wanted to scream, “I survived cancer, now what?” Where was the manual on how to live after cancer? Who helps me get back to living? I just go back to what I was doing, as if nothing happened? I was tired of saying to myself, “But I’m supposed to feel better, right?”

    As the stream of appointments, scans, lab draws, and phone calls from friends and family continued to slow, I tried hard to be well and remain optimistic. Continue doing my job, walking the dogs, and dragging myself to the gym. Life just didn’t seem real, and depression overwhelmed me for days or weeks at a time. A quick nap turned into a four-hour slumber; my physical body was healing, and my mental body was spiraling downward.

    The difficulty of shifting back to life was not what I expected, and thank goodness for friends. My dear friend Rebecca asked if I wanted to run a half-marathon, but my visceral reaction was no. Then I learned the race took place one year to the date after I finished chemo, so I thought, “Heck yea, take that cancer!” It was perfect timing. One foot in front of the other, I trained for my first half-marathon.

    I kept myself going by trying to run when I could. Running was my go-to mental health fix pre-cancer, and it was starting to work post-cancer too. I remember there were days when I would drag myself to run and come back home in minutes. Then there were days I felt like I had superpowers and it felt so good.

    Rebecca and I crossed that finish line, hand in hand, and celebrated with margaritas and Mexican food, my other go-to mental health fixes.

    So why do I feel inclined to share my story? It’s not just about cancer, depression, running, and margaritas. It’s about making something good come from something bad. 

    Cancer taught me a lot of things. The biggest lesson was to control what I could. That looked like taking a long way home instead of sitting in traffic, not getting worked up about long lines in the grocery store, taking risks like rock climbing in Utah, trying new things like fly fishing in the mountains of North Carolina, singing in my car on the way to work to pump myself up for the day, going on camping trips with my girlfriends, and leaving behind a soul-sucking career.

    I can’t say I am exactly happy I had cancer, but I can’t imagine life without it. It’s a love/hate relationship. Looking back, it was an opportunity for growth and learning that I can do hard things. It was a reminder to focus on being truly alive.

    There is not a guidebook for cancer survivors, no way to time travel to the person you were before your diagnosis, no way to return your body unscathed, or quick way to restore your trust in your body again.  It’s a journey that you must figure out for yourself, one minute, hour, and day at a time.

    You must accept what has happened and discover a new self.

    I learned more in the year after cancer than I had in the previous twenty-six years. You don’t need a cancer journey to do this.

    Life is short; learn to live life to the fullest. However, if cancer is part of your journey back to living, you are not alone in your quest to learn to live again. You can do this. One tiny step at a time, you will learn to truly live again. You will stumble back and take huge leaps forward.

    You can have a life full of purpose, happiness, gratitude, and adventure. Don’t merely survive cancer, thrive after cancer! What are you waiting for? Let’s do this.

  • Why Judging People Hurt Me and 5 Things That Helped Me Stop

    Why Judging People Hurt Me and 5 Things That Helped Me Stop

    “It’s very easy to judge. It’s much more difficult to understand. Understanding requires compassion, patience and a willingness to believe that good hearts sometimes choose poor methods.” ~Doe Zantamata

    In the past, judgments kept me safe. They reassured me that I had worth. That I was right. That I was good. I believed I knew the “right” way to live.

    I felt I could clearly see the truth of matters. I didn’t understand why others weren’t always able to grasp the truth that I saw. However, the real truth was that my inner world was full of turmoil.

    Since adolescence, I went about my day with a certain level of tension in my chest. It was almost imperceptible, but always there. I felt I was constantly fighting the world, the universe. I tried to control it, to mold it to the way I saw things. I judged anyone who didn’t follow my vision of right and wrong.

    I spent a lot of time arguing and judging. Politics, religion, even school board meetings—they all elicited strong judgments from me. Judging others felt OH SO GOOD for a minute. That’s the kicker. Inevitably, though, the negative energy of the judgments left me feeling irritated or angry.

    Why was I judging so much? Because I believed that missteps should be punished. My judgments were just that. I thought punishments were critical to learning. To growing.

    The reality was that the person I was judging was mostly unaware of my judgy thoughts. My judgments weren’t resulting in positive change. When I sat down and actually thought about what punishments accomplish, I realized that no one needs to be punished in order to change. I saw that I was operating from a false “truth.”

    What I hadn’t understood was that the only person I was punishing when I judged was myself. I was poisoning my body, my mind, even my soul, with anger.

    What is clear to me now is that when I judge, I create division. When I judge someone, I am saying “I’m here and you’re over there.” I’m thinking, “I’m right and you’re wrong.” The problem is—they are thinking the same thing!

    I experienced the wisdom of the introductory quote in what turned out to be a pivotal moment in my spiritual journey.

    I was a witness to an unpleasant argument about vaccines between two friends. I started to feel the tension in my chest increase. I began to judge and felt the need to jump in and share my “right view” with them.

    Then I centered. I became still. And I saw two moms who were scared. Two moms who loved their children. Two moms who were just trying to do their best. The tension fell away. I stopped judging and felt compassion for my two friends instead.

    My inner world changed. The tension was replaced with expansion. I felt peaceful. I felt love.

    There is a concept in Buddhism called “the right view.” The “right view” is often described as the perspective that doesn’t cause suffering. I’ve also heard it described as “all views, or none at all.”

    I’ve learned that we filter all external information through our own personal experiences, knowledge, and traumas before coming to a conclusion. Our inner world and patterns determine our reactions. This is why we can all receive the same information and still come to different conclusions. None are right, and none are wrong. They are just different paths.

    In the past, I would have tried to convince you that my path was right. I wouldn’t allow you to be who you were. I wanted you to be who I wished you to be. I would have judged you.

    I don’t know about you, but when someone judges or shames me, I don’t change. I dig my feet in. It’s not a very effective communication technique.

    Instead of judging, if we try to understand each other and allow each other to be who we are, we foster acceptance rather than division. We have compassion rather than judgment and our inner world changes. We feel an inner peace within.

    It’s important to note that not judging someone doesn’t mean you condone what they’re doing. It also doesn’t change the consequences of their actions. It just allows you to keep your inner world peaceful.

    So, how did I get here?

    First, I learned to meditate and find that place of stillness within me.

    Second, I learned how to find that place of stillness with my eyes open. These first two steps allowed me to create a space between an event and my emotions. This moment (or space) allowed me to respond rather than react. In this moment, the truth will often become clear.

    Third, I practiced catching myself judging. I would take a moment and hold the person in compassion instead. I would try to understand them. I would allow them to be who they are rather than who I wished.

    Fourth, I saw that punishments don’t work. Judging others or ourselves doesn’t facilitate growth. It creates tension and division.

    Finally, I discovered that judging ties you to the past. To past patterns, reactions, and impressions. I’m judging based on my personal past experiences. I learned to let go and to forgive things in my past. I knew if I didn’t, nothing would change.

    The result was inner peace. My chest doesn’t feel tight anymore. In fact, it feels like there is an open, shiny jewel in place of the tension. Love flows through me daily. I see the bliss of the present moment. I spend less and less time in the past.

    When someone says something hurtful to me now, I try to pause and center. I bless them. I know when people are suffering that suffering often spills out onto others. I hold them in compassion. I understand that they are doing the best they can.

    I’m also not perfect. I do still catch myself judging. I am also doing the best that I can.

    I challenge you to try leading with compassion. First, compassion for yourself. We are all learning and growing. Then compassion for each other. See what happens to your inner world.

    It is easy to judge; it’s much harder to try and understand.

  • How To Make Yourself Stronger When Facing Health Challenges

    How To Make Yourself Stronger When Facing Health Challenges

    “The beautiful thing about setbacks is they introduce us to our strengths.” ~Robin S. Sharma

    This has been the worst year of my life. Financial stress. Relationship problems. Being separated from my family because of the pandemic. Mentally I’m a mess. I thought I had hit rock bottom. But the worst was yet to come.

    I had been ignoring health issues for years and finally dragged myself in for an ultrasound. I already knew I had a fibroid and had booked the ultrasound to check on it. However, as the sonographer explained, I now had innumerable fibroids. They had taken over my uterus and ultimately my life.

    I remember starting to feel numb as she talked me through my scan. I knew there was no other option. I needed a hysterectomy, and I was terrified. I was scared about what this meant for my body and my future, but I also have extremely high anxiety about doctors and hospitals. You can imagine how I felt about surgery.

    One of my favorite motivational speakers, Eric Thomas, talks about how pressure creates diamonds. Just when you think you’ve had enough pressure and all you can bear, life turns up the heat. I felt like I was burning.

    I knew surgery was inevitable and I needed to get my mindset right. As much as positivity eluded me the past year, I had to be mentally and physically strong going into the surgery because I wanted to come out a diamond.

    The Japanese call this kensho, which means growth through pain or finding positivity in life’s challenges. If you want to become a diamond or a stronger version of yourself from whatever you are facing, here are some strategies that will help.

    1. Allow yourself to feel everything. It’s normal.

    When coping with health challenges, you’ll probably filter your feelings with shoulds:

    I shouldn’t feel anxious (angry, sad).

    I shouldn’t act so irrationally.

    I should think more positively.

    I should feel grateful it’s not worse.

    I should hold myself together for those around me.

    Truth is, though, you are going to feel all the emotions. You’re also going to feel your body’s symptoms. It’s easy to get stuck in the pain because, until it stops, it’s hard to see the good in life.

    Give yourself permission to feel everything. If life is continually knocking you down, of course you’ll feel angry. In fact, some anger is probably going to help. It’s the fuel you need to rise up and change things.

    When I started to cry in theatre before surgery, I felt guilty and embarrassed. The nurses kept telling me it’s perfectly normal. And, you know what? It is perfectly normal to feel scared before surgery. It would be weird if you weren’t.

    Allow yourself to feel every miserable thing without the guilt. It’s part of grieving and healing. You may need some time to grieve the loss of something physical or a way of life you imagined that now has to change. You may need to set aside some quiet time to check in with yourself and feel whatever you feel. Grieve what you need to let go.

    But the way you make sure it doesn’t consume you is by allowing yourself to feel the good too. And it’s the good that you want to blow up and make bigger in your mind.

    I bet there are so many little things you can appreciate about your life. You can take a moment to savor a healthy meal or feel the sun on your skin. I find a lot of happiness in my cat’s funny antics and cuddles, so I always make sure I am fully present around him.

    Small goods won’t fix your big problems. Believe me, I know how hard it is to find the positives when anxiety takes over. No amount of mindfulness is ever going to fix the misery of a health problem that confines you to bed or the house. Nor will it take away the physical pain that you have to endure daily.

    But the good can soften the bad and give you strength to keep going.

    2. Build your mental fortitude.

    You have a choice as to how you are going to face this health problem. You can let it take you down or you can use it as an opportunity to become a stronger version of yourself.

    Surgery was inevitable. Anxiety was inevitable. Pain was inevitable. Despite all this, I made a promise to myself that I would face it with strength and hope for a better future.

    Unfortunately, after a really difficult year, I knew I wasn’t in the right headspace for it. I had to start “training my brain” in the same way you might train your body for a big mountain climb or fitness event.

    You can train your brain in a variety of ways. You can get support from positive people in your life. You can get counseling. But you also need something you can do daily on your own.

    One of the best ways to train your brain is through selective use of social media and Google.

    If you Google your health problem, you’ll find positive stories, but you’ll also find a lot of negative and scary information. In my case surgery was inevitable and I knew the risks. Why needlessly worry about outcomes I couldn’t control?

    Instead, I ignored my inclination to over research everything, and in preparation for surgery I decided to read or watch one positive hysterectomy story each day. That’s all I allowed myself to look at. This was one of the best things I did for my mental health.

    I also trained my mind by going for a walk everyday and listening to a motivating video or podcast. This was a way to calm and connect with myself and to keep building my mental strength for surgery and recovery. I really felt the benefits of this practice the day of surgery.

    You have to find videos and speakers that speak to your soul, and everyone will be different. I prefer a tough love approach, and as I mentioned before, one of my favorite speakers is Eric Thomas.

    On the day of surgery, whenever I would feel a wave of anxiety, I would say to myself “pressure creates diamonds.” This idea gave me strength and reminded me that this surgery was a gift I was giving myself so I could have a better future.

    3. Put one foot in front of the other.

    There will be days it seems impossible to get out of bed. You will start to feel better and then you’ll feel worse. You will get overwhelmed and discouraged. No one is perfect, but you can be better day by day even with setbacks.

    In the gym you build strength through progressive overload. This means doing a bit more each time you train. When I coach my clients, I teach them that little steps lead to big results. It’s all about consistency and patience.

    When I was recovering from surgery, I had to apply the same principles. First, I had to learn to sit up. Then I was able to walk around my hospital room. A few days later I was walking around my yard and eventually I started walking down the road. Each day I literally walked a few more steps. I set my sights on being able to walk to a bridge down the road and two weeks post surgery I got there.

    Before surgery I was hitting personal bests in the gym with big deadlifts, squats, and presses. I know it will be a long time before I have that strength again, but I will get there. Step by step I will build myself up to be even stronger than before.

    Along the way I will be patient and kind with myself and give my body what it needs. Some days I have to give in and just sit in the sun with my cat because that’s all I can manage.

    I know how hard it can be to deal with health challenges. Sometimes you have to let yourself cry and feel angry—or whatever else you feel. In the face of setbacks always remember this is your opportunity to get stronger and healthier than ever before. Pressure creates diamonds, and you are on your way to becoming the most beautiful gem.

  • When You’re Becoming a New You: 3 Lessons to Help You on Your Journey

    When You’re Becoming a New You: 3 Lessons to Help You on Your Journey

    “There is no place so awake and alive as the edge of becoming.” ~Sue Monk Kidd

    From a small café overlooking the boat harbor in Seward, Alaska, I looked out the window at the enormous mountain peak of Mount Alice that protruded from the earth behind rows of tour boats, sailboats, and a cruise ship large enough to carry several thousand passengers. The last few days of my summer there were coming to an end, and I reflected with gratitude on my time there.

    Located directly off the Gulf of Alaska and within Kenai Fjords National Park, Seward is a place people dream about: bald eagles cut through the sky as frequently as clouds, humpback whales breach the calm bay on a quiet morning, and wildlife roam freely within rows of pine trees that crowd the hillside and hug the small town.

    Seward was my home for the summer of 2019. I lived in a camper van next to Resurrection River with a full view of Mount Alice. At night I could hear the soft, constant mumble of the river.

    When I wasn’t working downtown at a local coffee shop, I read next to the river, practiced yoga in the black sand that blanketed the bay, flew in a new friend’s helicopter above the wild landscape, ate breakfast on a beach where the whales welcomed the day, or sat beside a crackling fire under towering trees and mountain peaks.

    It was dreamy. But I didn’t arrive there randomly nor without trials. In fact, my environment both externally and internally looked much different just a couple years before when I wrestled with questions and dilemmas that are common for many of us on the path of becoming.

    The Confusion & Inner Turmoil of My Early Twenties: A Brief Backstory

    Two years before, I was in the depths of the uncomfortable tension I felt between two opposing decisions: should I stay on my current, stable path or leave it entirely to pursue something more in line with my values?

    I was a fresh college graduate, and I had recently started a job at a nonprofit organization that paid me well and offered many advantages I felt lucky to have. I was also working my way into the political world and imagined myself one day running for office. On top of working, I was also trying to keep the wheels moving on a nonprofit organization I’d started to train women to run for public office. My mind played with ideas of buying my first house and settling into this life path.

    I was twenty-three, highly ambitious, and working toward a life that I didn’t really want. But I struggled to understand that feeling because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful or, even worse, delusional for letting go of what I had.

    Another side of me was creative, free-spirited, and very much opposed to a linear life route. In fact, I never wanted to attend college. I had dreams of being a photojournalist or a writer who gathered knowledge by exploring and experiencing the world. I valued adventure, curiosity, and creativity. Yet here I was—not only pursuing a path that didn’t fit those values, but telling myself and others I was passionate about it.

    My mind was a warzone of opposing beliefs and opinions about who I was and how I should live my life. I felt stuck and lacked direction. I was certain about nothing and questioned everything: my identity, my thoughts, and the direction I was heading.

    I was also in a relationship with a man stuck in a cycle of self-sabotage and harmful drinking habits that grew out of his feelings of worthlessness.

    I spent my days cultivating the professionalism I didn’t value and my evenings at my boyfriend’s house, smoking weed on his frameless mattress and teetering between my contrasting desires for rebellion and obedience.

    There were nights I’d fall asleep next to him and the bottle of whiskey lying in the crevice between his mattress and the wall, then wake the next morning feeling drained, lonely, and lost on a path I was unsure how to step away from.

    I’d unintentionally assumed the role of my boyfriend’s caregiver in a time when I needed my care the most. I was navigating the chaos, uncertainty, and vulnerability that often meets a person in her early twenties, all while reprimanding myself for not being where I thought I should be.

    As a teenager I often made promises to myself I would follow my heart and choose a life I desired regardless of the circumstances, but in my early twenties I realized that was far more complicated than I initially thought.

    Life has a way of guiding you in a direction that diverges from what you’d planned for yourself. Trying to navigate that divide can produce anxiety and inner turmoil–especially when you’re young, naive to the power of life’s unplanned circumstances, and still learning how to properly adjust your sails to work with its winds.

    That’s the situation I found myself in when I was twenty-three, full of ambition, and feeling stuck in circumstances I didn’t want but had somehow still manifested. Through that time, I learned three key lessons that I hope you may also carry with you as you continually adjust your sails and navigate life’s shifting tides on your path of becoming.

    Lesson 1: If you don’t know how to overcome your current challenges, look for lessons that can help move you forward instead of forcing yourself to take immediate action.

    In the midst of my inner turmoil, I wanted to exit the discomfort immediately and be in a state of ease. But my Buddhist-inspired beliefs and mindfulness studies taught me that in the center of the challenges I needed to sit with what I was experiencing and listen to what there was to learn. Rather than taking immediate action, I needed to observe. What was I feeling? What were my emotions trying to communicate? What was stirring in my soul?

    I spent many evenings journaling the raw thoughts in my mind without trying to make sense of them. I allowed emotions to arrive and stay as long as they needed. I gave myself space to not know what I wanted nor what was to come next. I asked questions without needing an answer. I considered my needs at every moment and did my best to meet them.

    By doing so I learned that staying present and accepting the current moment doesn’t mean neglecting action. It means being alert and cognizant of what lessons the moment has to offer so that one can move forward with the insight, tools, and knowledge needed when it is time to take action.

    Lesson 2: Focus on the things you can control, then take action and adjust as you go.

    In time—by being still and aware within the confusion and fear I felt—I realized I needed to leave the situations that I didn’t want. I needed to adjust my sails to steer myself in a different direction, even if I didn’t know exactly where that would lead me. I didn’t need to know the future in order to know that I wanted to (and could) change my present circumstances.

    Within about eight months my relationship naturally fizzled, I gave notice at my job, found a new job in Alaska, bought a van, gave away many excess things I owned and didn’t need, moved out of my apartment, and hit the road from Wyoming to Alaska. I shifted my sails.

    Rather than focusing on the areas of my life I couldn’t control—like the potential consequences of changing so many aspects of my life—I leveraged the choices and agency I did have in order to produce different outcomes.

    Lesson 3: Remember, sorrow or joy, this too shall pass.

    One summer morning after arriving in Alaska, I sat at the end of the boat harbor overlooking the jagged peaks in the distance. I watched and listened as the boats swayed gently in the water and the birds sang their songs in the blue sky.

    My body felt different. The anxiety had receded. There was more space in my mind, and I felt a sense of direction even in the lingering uncertainty. I still didn’t know what would come after my short summer in Alaska. But more than anything, I felt an immense amount of gratitude and contentment for my life at that moment. Where else would I rather be? I thought to myself.

    In times of joy, I often forget the challenges that led me there, and I fall prey to the belief that the joy just might last forever. But that morning on the dock I understood that the joy too was temporary, just like the moments of hardship that preceded it. Regardless, something within me had faith that I was right where I needed to be in both phases of my life.

    Life’s changing tides have taught me the same lesson: both joy and sorrow pass through our lives like eagles cutting across an Alaskan sky. We often yearn desperately for joy over sorrow and grasp for a future where–when it finally arrives–all our hard work and desperation will pay off and we’ll live the remainder of our lives in ease.

    But despite our relentless attempts to prove otherwise, the magic of life isn’t found in eternal happiness nor in the future moments that might follow the one right in front of us. It’s in feeling the depth of every experience, regardless of what it contains. It’s staying present in what’s scary and uncomfortable as much as it’s staying present in what’s exciting and fulfilling, all while knowing that whatever meets you here and now will pass in the same way as the moment before it.

    —

    It’s been two years since I spent that beautiful summer in Alaska. Within that time life’s tide has continued to rise and fall, bringing both challenges and joy. Just as I’d anticipated, the ease I felt that summer passed, then came again, and passed once more. Each wave of experience has delivered numerous lessons, like little gifts waiting to be opened, observed, and put to use.

    Staying present in the challenges leads to immense growth and strength, and being present in pleasure generates gratitude and bewilderment. We need both. A meaningful life depends on our ability to value all aspects of the spectrum. It’s all critical to the process of becoming.

    If you’re currently sitting in hardship, you may believe it’s your job to find the next joyful experience as soon as possible, but that’s not your job. And if you’re engrossed in happiness, you might feel that it’s your duty to maintain the current environment of your life so you never have to experience hardship again. But that is also not your task.

    Your job is to sit in what you’re experiencing without infusing it with judgment and forcing your emotion into shapes it doesn’t belong in. Explore it. Find gratitude for it. Ask questions. Listen. But do what you can to not wish for it to end nor wish for it to stay. Get curious about this simple invitation: Can you let this moment simply be, and if so, how deeply can you delve into it without attaching to it or its outcomes?

    Wherever you are, it’s just a moment in time. It, too, will pass. But there is a purpose to its presence despite its impermanence. It has something to teach you about who you are. So while it’s here, dive into it and expand the depths of your dynamic and vibrant human experience. How deep can you go? The lessons and experiences you find along the way will mold you into your becoming.

  • The Vault in Our Hearts: How I’m Learning to Fill It with My Own Love

    The Vault in Our Hearts: How I’m Learning to Fill It with My Own Love

    “If you don’t love yourself, you’ll always be looking for someone else to fill the void inside you, but no one will ever be able to do it.” ~Lori Deschene

    This year I have fallen in and out of love. Not once, not twice, but three times.

    Firstly, I fell deeply into being held, being heard, and being supported. For the first time, in a long time, I understood what it meant to be loved.

    Secondly, I flew quickly into a spontaneous soul, who lit up my world and reminded me who I was.

    Thirdly, I surrendered earth-shatteringly into something that would force me to grow; someone who would crack my heart wide open and inspire my soul.

    And each time I fell a little more softly than the last; a little more tenderly, a little more lovingly, and a little more openly from my soul. Yet, with all this falling and flying, laced with twisted heartstrings and crying, I am still here trying to feel my way through the vault in my heart.

    The black hole that is almost instantaneously filled with the love of another, like stardust filling my heart. The black hole that is continuously expanding and shifting, then engulfing itself.

    The love also expands and shifts, it swirls and grows—I feel temporarily full until I begin to lose my glow. And then I wonder, how I am sat here again with tears in my eyes and a chest full of doubt? And it hits me, like a meteor of light—gold dust running through my veins and lightning in my heart.

    My vault is to be filled, not by the love of another, not by the way I think it should feel, but by my hopes, my wonder, and my soul-powered dreams; the technicolor life I have always wanted to lead.

    And so, I sit here, laughing and crying and sentimentally smiling at the irony of life, as I realize that the love that I have always wished for will never be enough. No one will keep me cradled in my heartstrings and permanently high on love.

    This person, your person, may light up your soul, but they will never fill the vault of your full-blown world. And so, we must vow to ourselves—we must allow ourselves—to fall in and out of love, not just with another, but with our true selves. Not with synchronizing with another but with aligning with our hearts, every single day.

    We must vision our life, our way, the way we want it to be. We must trust that it will yield to us everything we need. And on our paths, others may unlock our souls with golden keys of hope, vulnerability, longing, loss, and growth. But we must stay true to our paths, investing our time in a love that will last.

    The vault in our hearts needs to be filled, with visions of desire and hopes and dreams. Because in all this loving, I refuse to be stagnant. I refuse to let someone fill me and take away my passion. I want to feel it all, even if it means constantly falling and flying, contracting and expanding.

    This is the only way to stay true to my highest self, where my pain meets my madness, and my perspective shifts itself. My vault keeps unlocking and shimmering with gold, but this gold will always fade if I do not feed my soul. And now, I know. It doesn’t just have to be a temporary glow.

    I don’t want to be loved. I want to BE love.

    I want to feel it all, see it all, be it all. I want to journey with another, yet stay true to myself.

    And so here I am again, falling deeply and completely into the path of love; navigating a new relationship, and remembering what I have learned. They will never be enough unless I stay aligned with my true self. But who is my “true self”?

    She is creativity and joy, freedom and passion. She is travel, she is adventure, she is writing and compassion. She is singing from my heartstrings and rolling around in hugs, she is feeding my body good food and taking naps at lunch.

    She is grounding my body and rooting my earthly soul, she is reminding myself to take it easy and schedule in time for myself. She is having space to reflect, to vision, and to create—to live my best possible life every single day.

    She is dancing around my bedroom with a full and open heart, she is appreciating little flower buds and gazing at the milky way above. She is stopping for a moment to enjoy the simplicities of life and dancing in the rain even when storms rage outside. She is crying from my heart center, even when I don’t know what it’s about, she is cleansing my body with long baths and bucket loads of Epsom salt.

    She is moving my body and releasing emotions from deep within, she is letting go of yang and settling into yin. She is expressing my soul in a way that feels good to me, birthing zesty creations that fill me with energy. She is being honest with others even when it hurts, she is sharing my story and lighting up the world.

    She is diving into oceans with sweet and salty hair, drowning in my sorrows and shooting up for air. She is bathing in the sunshine and filling my body with light, allowing myself to rest when my eyes feel dim and tired. She is asking for guidance and praying from my heart, she is surrendering softly and letting life take its course.

    She is asking for help when I feel lost and broken, calling up a friend and sharing what I’m feeling. She is connecting with source and being committed every day, to filling up my cup and sharing it along the way. She is spending time with others who value my time and soul, who give with equal balance, and are committed to the path of growth.

    She is shining so bright that it blinds passers-by, inspiring others gently to shake up their own lives. She is standing bravely, boldly, and oh so lovingly so, when conversations are had and pain begins to show. She is forgiving the past, and not running to the future, living in the now and creating life from a balanced center.

    This is my love, my infinite love—my true self.

    And while I am open to falling into another, I will fall softly and deeply while honoring my center. The journey of love has taken me so far, but what it always teaches me is that I am capable of creating from my heart. And until it stops beating, I will allow it to shimmer and glow, igniting my dreams and letting my vault know—I will fill you. Every single day.

  • How I Stopped Resisting Change and Embraced the Road Ahead of Me

    How I Stopped Resisting Change and Embraced the Road Ahead of Me

    “Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over, she became a butterfly.” ~Unknown

    Change is constant, from small changes like trying a new hobby to big changes like making a drastic career move. Even though change is all around us, it can feel scary. While change could lead you to something great, there are a lot of unknowns with something new, and that can cause anxiety.

    When I was younger, I used to embrace change. For example, each school year was a new and exciting experience.

    But somewhere along the way, I started to resist change.

    What Does Resisting Change Look Like?

    For some, resisting change might involve remaining in a situation that feels boring or mundane just because taking a different path can feel daunting or like a lot of work. For others, it might involve staying in a situation that’s unhealthy for them because making a change feels scary.

    I resisted change by focusing on the negative aspects of any new experience I was going through as a means to protect myself.

    If I failed at trying something new, then I would have something to blame it on. I could give the impression to others that the change didn’t work out because of some outside factor beyond my control.

    For example, when I began a master’s degree program, I moved to a brand-new city fifteen hours away from my hometown. I didn’t know a single person—in fact, the closest friend to me was six hours away.

    When I chose to attend this program, I was excited. It felt like a fresh start and an adventure because I’d get to live in a cool place, make new friends, and move into a different career path.

    I spent months preparing for the change, finding a place to live, and doing some pre-work for the program. About a week before I moved, the nerves kicked in. I suddenly felt like it was a crazy idea to move to a place where I didn’t know anyone and had no idea what I was doing.

    But there was no turning back; everything was already arranged. And deep down, I knew this was the right decision for me even though it felt uncomfortable.

    During the first couple of weeks in the new city, my mind took note of every undesirable thing it could find. Not only did I notice these things for myself, but I also complained to my friends and family. In a way, I was subconsciously building a case against this new situation so that if I failed, it wouldn’t look like it was all my fault.

    I complained about everything: “The people aren’t friendly.” “The street across from my apartment looks so sketchy.” “My program is really tough—we have so many requirements it doesn’t feel possible to get everything done.”

    Less than a month in, I was already considering transferring to a different program at my undergraduate college. I could move back to a city I knew, where I had several friends still living nearby. It felt like a safe and comfortable option.

    But then something happened: I started making friends with some people in my program. As I got to know this group of girls, I realized they had a lot of the same fears that I did! Not only were we able to bond over that, but we were also able to help and support each other.

    Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone.

    After all that time trying to convince others and myself that this situation was horrible, I was finally able to admit to these new friends that I had worries about our new situation. Through their advice, I found healthier ways to deal with the new aspects of my life.

    For example, I began meditating every morning, which helped me manage my stress. I also found that, although I was far away from friends and family, when I stayed connected via phone calls and video chats, I felt less alone.

    Over time, my fears around this change fell away. And you know what? The two years I lived there turned out to be some of the best years of my life so far.

    I made lifelong friends. I gained so much knowledge—both practical and academic—as I developed as a professional and moved into a great job after graduation. I also met my fiancé during that time, someone who I can’t imagine my life without now.

    Had I left just a few weeks in, like I was tempted to, I would have missed out on all of that.

    While this is not the only example of when I resisted change, it’s a good one because it shows exactly how I would sabotage myself amidst the discomfort of something new.

    One of the biggest takeaways that I learned over time is that change is something most people find uncomfortable, so you are never alone. Rather than focusing on the negative aspects of a new change and telling others about all the reasons why it’s not good for you, share your fears with the people you are close to, with the intention of overcoming them.

    Why is sharing your fears about change with others so important?

    Your support system is called that for a reason—they are there to support you! Just like you don’t judge friends and family when they come to you for help, they won’t judge you either. We are often so much harder on ourselves than we are on anyone else.

    By sharing your fears with others, you’ll likely find that they can offer you advice or even just a shoulder to cry on so that your feelings don’t seem so overwhelming. When you keep those worries inside, they can start to build up in your mind and feel even more daunting. In a way, voicing your fears out loud takes their power away.

    What else can you do to manage change when it feels hard?

    Focus on what you can control.

    When faced with change, it can feel like everything is out of your control. However, one of the best ways to face change is to focus on what you can control in this situation. Ask yourself, “What can I take responsibility for right now?”

    For example, I accepted that I couldn’t control how overwhelming my schoolwork felt. However, I could control how organized I was, so I bought a planner and wrote out all my deadlines and when I needed to have tasks completed by, which made things feel more manageable.

    By taking control of your own fate where you can, change will feel less intimidating because it won’t be just something happening to you; it will be something you’re intentionally choosing.

    Take time for yourself—because you deserve it!

    Self-care is important during any time of your life, but especially when you’re faced with anxiety about difficult situations. We tend to be hard on ourselves when we’re struggling with something new. Self-care is a way of telling ourselves we deserve to be comforted through it.

    Self-care can also help you calm your mind and keep things in perspective when everything feels scary and overwhelming. Whether you just changed jobs, graduated, or ended a relationship, taking time for yourself is critical to maintaining a healthy mindset.

    Choose activities that help you relax. For me, that includes meditating and journaling. For you, that might mean practicing yoga, relaxing in the sun, or walking in nature. Other self-care ideas include developing a skin care routine, reading a book, or eating a healthy meal.

    Play around with different practices to find the ones that work best for you. You might also want to consider speaking with a mental health professional if you feel like you could use some extra support during this time of transition.

    Give yourself some credit.

    When faced with something new, you might find yourself thinking about all the many ways it can go wrong. To ease your fears, think about a time when you navigated change successfully.

    Walk yourself through how that situation went and the positive result. Use what you learned in that situation to walk through this new change.

    And as you start to make progress, don’t forget to reward yourself. Give yourself some kudos for all the effort you have put into your development and personal growth.

    Remember that the transitional phase is only temporary.

    If, like me, you’ve struggled when making a big life change, be kind to yourself through this transition.

    The discomfort we feel when faced with change is only temporary. While daunting at first, each new change will soon become your new normal and feel much more comfortable.

    —

    Admitting that I had nerves about the situation to others around me was the first step to feeling at peace within my new adventure.

    It’s how you take away the power behind those fears and start to embrace the change in front of you as an opportunity to become even better because of it.

  • How I Stopped Putting Everyone Else’s Needs Above My Own

    How I Stopped Putting Everyone Else’s Needs Above My Own

    “Never feel sorry for choosing yourself.” ~Unknown

    I was eleven years old, possibly twelve, the day I first discovered my mother’s betrayal. I assume she didn’t hear me when I walked in the door after school. The distant voices in the finished basement room of our home drew me in. My mother’s voice was soft as she spoke to her friend. What was she hiding that she didn’t want me to hear?

    I leaned in a little bit closer to the opening of the stairs… She was talking about a man she’d met. Her voice changed when she spoke of him. The tone of dreamy wonder when you discover something that makes your heart race. She talked about the way they touched and how she felt being with him.

    I felt my body go weak. I could not tell if it was sorrow or rage. All I knew was, she had lied to me.

    Several months prior, my parents had announced their divorce. My mother told me the decision was my father’s choice. She told me he was the one breaking up our family. She told me she wanted nothing more than to stay with us and be together.

    And now I heard her revealing that was not true. She wanted to leave. She was not choosing me. She was choosing him.

    Since I was nine months old, my mother had been in and out of doctor’s offices, hospitals, psychiatrist’s and therapist’s offices trying to find the cure of her mental and emotional instability.

    When I was a young child, she began to share her frustrations and sorrows with me. I became her support and the keeper of her pain. She had nicknamed me her “little psychiatrist.” It was my job to help her. I had to. I needed her stable so I could survive.

    I don’t remember when or if she told us that she was seeing someone. I just remember she was gone a lot after that day. She spent her time with her new boyfriend out of the house. As the parentified child who she had inadvertently made her caretaker, it felt like she was betraying me. She left me for him.

    I was no longer the chosen one—he was.

    I hated him for it. When my mother moved in with him, I refused to meet him. I didn’t want to get to know or like this man she left me for.

    I saw them one day in the parking lot outside of a shopping plaza. I watched them walking together and hid behind a large concrete pillar so they wouldn’t see me. The friend I was with asked if I wanted to say hello. I scowled at the thought. I despised him.

    Within the same year, his own compromised mental health spiraled, and they broke up. He moved out of their apartment. I didn’t know why or what happened. I only knew my mother was sad. Shortly after their breakup, he took his own life. From what we heard, he had done so in a disturbingly torturous way. It was clear his self-loathing and pain was deep.

    My mother was devastated. She mourned the loss of her love and the traumatic way he exited. She stopped taking her medication, and her own mental health began to spiral. My father received a phone call that her car had been abandoned several states away. I’m unsure what she was doing there, but she had some issues and took a taxi back home.

    He later received a call stating that my mother had been arrested for playing her music too loud in her apartment. Perhaps to drown out the voices in her head. She was later taken to the hospital without her consent and was admitted due to her mental instability.

    After several days of attempting to rebalance her brain chemistry with medication, my mother began to sound grounded again. The family decided she would move in with her parents a few states away from us and live with them until she was stable again.

    A few days after Christmas she called me to tell me how sad she was. She grieved her dead boyfriend. I was short with her. I was still angry for her betrayal. I didn’t want to continue being used as her therapist. The imbalance in our relationship was significant, and my resentment was huge.

    I loved her, but I could not fall back into the role of being her support without any support back. It was life-sucking. And I didn’t care that he was dead. She chose him over me. I was fine with him being gone.

    I don’t recall feeling any guilt when I got off the phone that day. I felt good that I had chosen myself and put a boundary in place to not get sucked into her sorrow. I was fourteen years old, less than a week shy of fifteen. I just wanted to be a kid.

    The next day, my mother chose to make more decisions for me and for herself. These were more final. She told her parents she was taking a nap and intentionally overdosed on the medication meant to save her. She died quietly to relieve herself from her pain and left me forever.

    That choice—my own and hers—would change the course of my life.

    The day my mother freed herself from this world was the same day I learned to become imprisoned in mine. I was imprinted with a fear that would dictate my life. I became quietly terrified of hurting other people. I feared their discomfort and feeling it was my fault. From that day forward I would live with the silent fear of choosing myself.

    My rational mind told me it was not my fault. I did not open the bottle. I did not force her to swallow the pills. I did not end her life. But I also did not save it.

    I learned that day that creating a boundary to preserve myself not only was unsafe, it was dangerous. When I chose me, people not only could or would abandon me, they could die.

    Of course, I never saw this in my teenage mind. Nor did I see it in my twenties, thirties or the beginning of my forties. I only saw my big, loving heart give myself away over and over again at the cost of myself.

    I felt my body tighten up when I feared someone would be mad at me. I heard myself use words to make things okay in situations that were not okay. I said yes far too many times when my heart screamed no. All because I was afraid to choose myself.

    The pattern and fear only strengthened with time. I learned to squirm my way out of hurting others and discovered passive-aggressive and deceptive approaches to get my needs met. My body shook in situations where conflict seemed imminent, and I learned to avoid that too.

    What I didn’t see was that this avoidance had a high price. I was living a life where I was scared to be myself.

    On the outside I played the part. The woman who had it all together. Vocal, passionate, confident, and ambitious. But on the inside, I held in more secrets than I knew what to do with. I wasn’t living as me. My fear of being judged and rejected or not having my needs met was silently ruling my life.

    So many have developed this fear over time. Starting with our own insecurities of not feeling good enough and then having multiple experiences that solidified this belief. The experiences and memories differ, but the feelings accompanying them are very much the same.

    The fear of choosing ourselves, our desires, our truths, all deeply hidden under the masks of “I’m fine. It’s fine.” When in reality, we learn to give way more than we receive and wonder why we live unsatisfied, resentful, and with chronic disappointment. Nothing ever feels enough, and if it does, it’s short-lived.

    The memories and feelings become imprints in our bodies and in our minds that convince us we can’t trust ourselves. That we can’t trust others. That we must stay in control in order to keep us safe. We learn to manipulate situations and people to save ourselves from the opinions and judgments outside of us. We learn to protect ourselves by giving in, in order to not feel the pain of being left out.

    We shelter ourselves with lies that we are indifferent or it’s not a big deal in order to shield ourselves from the truth that we want more. We crave more, but we are too scared to ask for it. The repercussions feel too risky. The fear of loneliness too great.

    In the end, our fear of choosing ourselves even convinces us we can live with less. That we are meant to live with less, and we need to be grateful for whatever that is.

    Do we? Why?

    What if we learned to own our fear? What if we accepted that we were scared, and it was reasonable? What would happen if we acknowledged to our partners, families, friends, and even strangers that we, too, were scared of not being good enough? Of being discarded, rejected, and left behind.

    What would it be like if we shared our stories and exposed our insecurities to free them instead of locking them up to be hidden in the dark shadows of ourselves?

    I’m so curious.

    Where in your past can you see that choosing yourself left a mark? What silenced you, shamed you, discouraged you from choosing your needs over another’s? When were you rejected for not doing what someone else wanted you to do? And how has that fear dictated your life?

    Choosing ourselves starts with awareness. Looking at the ways you keep quiet out of fear or don’t make choices that include your needs. Seeing where this fear shows up in your life gives you the opportunity to change it. The more you see it, the more you can make another choice.

    Start with looking at the areas of life where you hold on to the most resentment and anger. Who or what situations frustrate you? Anger often indicates where imbalances lie or when a boundary has been crossed. It shows us where we feel powerless.

    Make a list of the situations that annoy you and then ask yourself, what’s in your control and what’s not? What can you directly address or ask for help with?

    Note the ways you may be manipulating others to get your needs met in those situations and how that feels. Note also what you may be avoiding and why.

    How would it feel to be more direct and assertive? What feelings or fears come up for you?

    Then start with one small thing you could do differently. Include who you could ask for help with this step, if anyone.

    As for me, I have found myself in situations where I lied or remained silent to avoid being judged, in an attempt to manipulate how others see me. I have felt my body cringe with sadness and shame each time. It doesn’t matter how big or small the lie, it assaults my body the same.

    I have learned that speaking my truth, no matter how seemingly small or insignificant, saves my body from feeling abused by the secrets it must keep. Choosing me is choosing self-honesty; identifying what is true for me and what is not based on the way my body responds. I am not in control of others’ judgments of me, but I am in control of the way I continue to set myself up to judge myself.

    I have also found myself agreeing to do things I didn’t want to do in order to win the approval of others, then becoming resentful toward them because I refused to speak up for myself.

    Choosing me in these scenarios is honoring the fact that I will still be scared to ask for what I need, as my fears are real and valid, but asking anyway, even when the stakes feel high. It’s scary to feel that someone may abandon us if we choose ourselves, but it’s scarier to lose ourselves to earn a love built on a brittle foundation of fear.

    l cannot control the past where I have left myself behind, but I can control today, the way I forgive myself for falling victim to my human fear, and the way I choose to love myself moving forward. When I choose me, I have more love to give to others. Today I can take a small step toward change.

    Taking these small steps and building on them will help us to show ourselves that we can make progress in bite size amounts and prove to ourselves we are going to be okay. The small bites are digestible and give us proof that we can do it. This helps us build our ability to do more over time, while also decreasing our fear.

    If we look at our past, we will see the majority of our big fears do not come to fruition, and if they did, we survived them and gained knowledge or strength in the process.

    It’s not the action holding us back, but the memory of the discomfort we still live with. The more we move through these fears, the more that discomfort will decrease, and the more we will trust that we will be okay no matter what.

  • The Simple Path to Change When You’re Not Satisfied with Your Life

    The Simple Path to Change When You’re Not Satisfied with Your Life

    “Making a big life change is scary, but you know what’s even scarier? Regret.” ~Zig Ziglar

    Fifteen years ago, I made one of the biggest changes in my life. It was something I had wanted to do for so long but had never found the right time, right plan, or courage to do.

    You see, ever since I was in my teens, I had always felt I was meant to be somewhere else.

    The town where I grew up was pretty perfect for raising young kids, but it just wasn’t for me as I entered adulthood. I always envisioned myself somewhere else doing something different than those that stayed and replaced the generations before them.

    When I came back from school in my twenties, I was eager to get my career going and was not in a rush to settle down and have kids like most of my circle. I wasn’t even sure I really wanted to raise a family. I was more interested in exploring this world and not being tied to one way of life.

    At twenty-five I thought, WOW, I finally feel like I’ve got it all figured out.

    I had lived away from home, finished school, had relationships both good and bad, and had a strong work ethic that was instilled in me from a young age. So here I was, ready to take on the world. Build my career, travel, and maybe eventually settle down and start a family… then BANG! Just like that my world started to crumble.

    Within a span of one year, I was dealt some devastating news. My mother and sister were both diagnosed with different devastating diseases.

    My world was crushed. I can still remember the impact I felt on the day I received the news.

    I was in my office when I got the call about my sister, who had lost her speech and ability to move one of her arms and possibly needed emergency brain surgery.

    I was in shock. I had no idea how I felt, what I was supposed to do, or where I was supposed to be. I just sat there with a blank stare for what felt like an eternity but really was likely just five minutes.

    After weeks of testing, it was discovered my sister had MS (Multiple Sclerosis). A life-long debilitating disease, or so I understood at the time.

    Fast forward six-plus months later, my sister was on track with rehabilitation and signs of a full recovery in speech and limb mobility. Then WHAM! My mother received a stage 3 cancer diagnosis.

    I was absolutely devastated and completely torn apart. My mother is everything to me, the woman who inspires me to stand tall and strong no matter what life throws my way. A woman of pure integrity and authenticity, loved by so many.

    After emergency surgery and intense chemo, I am glad to say that both my mum and sister survived their devastating ordeals and have been living life to the fullest since that awful time. But during that time my world was upside down and I was an emotional wreck.

    I had no idea how to unravel all the emotions I was feeling then. I kept myself busy, though, with work, too much partying, and hitting the gym hard. You see, I kept myself looking good on the outside, but I was a complete mess on the inside. I was no longer thriving; I was just surviving.

    I began taking inventory of my life and realized I was not living the life I’d envisioned for myself. I was scared to make a change and also to not make a change.

    Seeing what my family had endured made me realize how precious life is and that I didn’t want to waste mine living a life that didn’t fulfill me in fear I was next for a diagnosis. So, I decided to seek out professional help to gain control and clarity, to heal, and to push through the emotions I was suffering from. Only then would I be able to truly move forward with my life in a positive and productive way.

    Once I had done the “work” on sorting out my emotions, I was able to start creating real change from a healthy, sound perspective.

    I started creating the life that resonated with me one step at a time. You see, change doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time to build. It is a process, and anyone who has made significant change in their lives will tell you that. Their change likely started way before anyone was really aware.

    I wasn’t living the life I wanted, so I thought long and hard about what needed to change and finally took the leap.

    I moved across the country on my own, away from my most significant support, with no job, to start building a life that resonates with me. It wasn’t without challenge or bumps in the road, and it certainly wasn’t perfect. But it’s been absolutely amazing, and I’ve never looked back.

    Besides the emotional trauma, there were so many things holding me back at first—family, friends, familiarity, and fear. But what I’ve come to realize is when you start making positive change in your life, for you, things fall into place over time and you look back and realize the change was worth it.

    People speak from their own feelings, experiences, and fears, don’t let that hold you back from what feels right to you.

    I now live in a place that felt like home from the first time I landed here. I live by the ocean and mountains, which inspire me every day.

    My sister now lives in the same city (in fact, we live the same complex). My brother and his family moved a one-hour flight away now as opposed to across the country. My mother still resides back in the town where I grew up so, I feel I get the best of both worlds. Living in a place that inspires me while having the chance to revisit a vibrant city and old friends to reminisce with whenever I choose to.

    So, what are the top things people say they regret as they get older? I wish I’d….

    • Saved more money or made better investments
    • Worked in a job or career I was more passionate about
    • Treated my body better and had better self-care
    • Spent more time with loved ones
    • Traveled more

    And the list goes on…

    Why do so many people rush through life without taking the time to recalibrate and ensure they are focused on the right things that mean something to them or will enrich their lives? It’s an intricate topic yet simple. Life. Life gets in the way, responsibilities get in the way, others’ opinions, and our own doubts and fears get in the way.

    We’ve all been there, navigating life as it unravels each day, and as things happen, we go with the flow. But have you ever stopped to consider, what’s my “flow”?

    How do I want this day, month, year to go? Why do I keep getting dragged in other directions or the same direction only to live each day with no change? Why does it seem like others are thriving while I am on repeat or treading without progressing?

    You will never know for sure until you take the time to explore what is going on in your life and create awareness around what might be holding you back. With the right support and guidance, you can create change both big and small. In fact, making little changes frequently will add up to making a big change overall.

    Not sure where to start? Here are five proven tips to begin creating change in your life today.

    1. Break the routine.

    Think about what you can give up or take out of your day to switch up your daily routine and do this for a two-week period. This could mean not scrolling mindlessly through social media on your lunch break or not watching TV at night, then seeing what else you could do instead. Which brings me to my next point…

    2. Bring back doing something you love and make it a deal breaker in your week.

    No excuses, make it happen, even you only have a fifteen-minute window for this activity. Same as above, do this for a two-week period, and this next one, as well.

    3. Discover something new.

    What have you always considered trying out or have an interest in that you’ve never explored? Give it a try now.

    4. Journal.

    Keep notes on how you are feeling through the two weeks. Then do it all for another two weeks.

    5. Build intention.

    Each week set the intention that there is time, this is worth it, and you are worth it!

    —

    The purpose of this process is to help you see how even small shifts can change how you feel and add to your life and well-being. This sets the foundation for believing that change gives more than it takes, which helps you find the motivation to seek out new opportunities so you can make larger life changes. Move if you don’t feel thrilled with where you live, sign up for a course to help you change careers, or finally leave the job you hate to do something you love.

    It takes focus, consistency, and perseverance to make change, but everyone has the ability to do it, especially if they start small and take it one day at a time.

    Surround yourself with those that will respect you and the changes you are making. I bet you’ll be surprised to see how many people are inspired and/or motivated to begin making their own changes after watching you. So don’t wait—start today and open up to change so you can live the life you want to live!

  • How I Saved Myself by Surrendering When Everything Fell Apart

    How I Saved Myself by Surrendering When Everything Fell Apart

    “And here you are, living despite it all.” ~Rupi Kaur

    “I surrender!” I said this mantra out loud as my life was spiraling out of control.

    I had spent a summer in college as a camp counselor separated from my fiancé. He sent me no letters and did not keep in touch. Still, I held on. By the time I came back home, we were broken. I had also realized he was emotionally abusing me. It took that separation to make me see it.

    I realized I had been truly alone in the relationship. I was never lonelier than being with someone who refused to listen to me. A summer of independence brought me a new love of solitude, but it also made me realize I didn’t have a soulmate in him after all.

    I was forced to face that this life wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t perfect. But… I was enough. I needed to believe that to keep moving.

    When I said my mantra of surrendering, I was on a rollercoaster of emotions. I didn’t know where my life was going. The wedding planning ended. He called it off through text. I was left emotional and without closure. I didn’t know what would happen next. I just decided to be curious rather than try to control it.

    I woke up to the fact that I didn’t have to know everything. I had to just trust. This both terrified me and propelled me forward. I didn’t know if things were going to be okay, but I knew I would make meaning out of whatever would happen.

    I wanted to teach youth how to surrender too. I figured that would be my legacy since it had healed me of so much in life.

    I had already applied to graduate school, and I would start at Brandeis very soon. I was worried about being on top of it all while going through this heartbreak. I was a Type A student, president of four clubs and an honors student. I didn’t exactly have time for love back then, but I didn’t realize I had a choice to let my ex go if I wasn’t satisfied. I put too much effort into trying to make it work when it wouldn’t.

    I didn’t see that my effort to make everything work was actually blocking better things from coming my way. In other words, I had to stop holding on so tightly to life. I had to let go. I had to surrender to survive. I had to go with the flow to find my flow. I had to learn how to be happy for no reason other than to simply be.

    When I did that, my whole life opened up for me. I practiced radical acceptance and realized my place in this world mattered. I stopped white-knuckling through my problems and pain. I stopped waiting for love and decided to love myself. I started to see myself as capable and good no matter how others mistreated me. I decided by letting go, I would not give up. I made a promise to myself to always be authentic.

    Life didn’t go as planned. I left Brandeis MAT program for teaching because I realized I didn’t want to be a high school English teacher anymore. It was the hardest decision of my life because I also did not have a backup plan.

    So, I surrendered again. And again and again through it all.

    I surrendered when I found other ways to help youth. I surrendered through a bipolar breakdown and a relapse to the hospital years later. I surrendered when I went on disability and all expectations of my life were changed. I surrendered through bad side effects to meds and awful doctors. I surrendered all through my life because I knew despite how hard things could be, I was still doing good. I was still helping others. I was still waking up each morning appreciating being alive.

    It came down to the simple things. I didn’t need certain labels or popularity. I needed to rest, to do nothing sometimes. To breathe. To just live.

    I saw myself as rising in my own ways.

    I realized I couldn’t look back. Here’s what I held onto instead:

    1. Finding Purpose

    When I let go of my need to control, I became more mindful. I started to think about how I wanted to spend my time. Was it for achievements or authenticity?

    I had nothing, so I had nothing to lose when I left Brandeis. Serendipitously, I had a branding internship the same time a brand manager of a large TV personality discovered me. The internship taught me how to manage my own image and ideas while the manager wanted to simply own me like a puppet master.

    I had a choice. I could live on my own terms or have someone take over my life. I turned down advances from this man. I wasn’t going to fall for the same red flags as I did with my ex-fiancé. I let go; I surrendered.

    I decided to make my own way and live authentically as a person, not a brand, sharing my story along the way. I used my mental health journey to help end stigma and my writing for sharing insights on life.

    I did not let walking away from the brand manager stop my story. Instead, I redefined it for myself. I was enough as I was. I didn’t need anyone to discover who I was meant to be. I would live my life for me.

    My purpose became in proving him wrong, that I could make it on my own. Then, it became for me, to show myself I was worth it. I focused on living in the moment and just following my passions without a plan. That’s what saved me. But it wasn’t the only thing.

    Purpose dawned on me one day while I was simply walking my dog through the woods in my backyard. I listened to birds chirping. I grounded myself by looking up at the blue sky. I touched the bark on the trees. I felt my inner voice beckoning me to love this life as it was, not as I wanted it to be. I didn’t have to do anything. I just had to be in this moment. That’s all life was asking of me.

    It took simplicity to make me realize my purpose wasn’t just a to-do list. It wasn’t fixing everything. It wasn’t mastering every skill. It wasn’t making things work when they wouldn’t.

    I had to separate myself from the “shoulds.” I had to find the gift in what I was going through. In taking the time to do nothing but think, far away from a stressful schedule, I realized that my purpose was to be happy without needing a reason to be. That took a different kind of bravery.

    2. Forgiveness

    I wasn’t able to move on from the injustices of my life very easily. I had anger in me from living under others’ control and abuse. I had loss, which I felt every day, etched into my skin. I knew what it was to be alone. I had settled too often and always saw the best in people.

    I grew up walking on eggshells surrounded by abusers. It was an endless pattern I stopped in my twenties. After my ex-fiancé left me, I found a new type of strength. I realized the only power anyone could ever have over me was the one I consented. No one could steal the core of who I was. No one could take certain things away. No one could define me but me.

    I took my power back through forgiveness. It didn’t happen right away. I meant “I love you” to my ex, but then I realized it was governed in fear. Fear of doing this life on my own.

    Sometimes life makes you continually face the very thing you’ve been avoiding. You keep getting redirected to it even as you resist. You find yourself with the same lessons you needed to learn before.

    There’s a quote that reads “You repeat what you don’t repair.” Well, I was there. I was back there constantly in my anger and hate of those who I thought stole something from me.

    But when I decided to forgive them, I released it. I gave it back to the universe and pulled my heart from the chaos. They didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t for them. It was for me. I had to let them go and surrender so I could heal myself. I forgave myself in the process, too, for not knowing enough, for not seeing the truth.

    My heart wanted to hold onto the anger so that I could do something with it. I soothed it, though, with self-compassion. I made meaning of the events of my life by helping others through similar things.

    That meant I had to say goodbye. Goodbye to those who didn’t know me enough to love me right. Goodbye to the me that was in survival mode and didn’t know I could just let go and live. Goodbye to the dark nights of the soul where I felt like giving up and suicidal ideations crossed my mind. Goodbye to the past. Goodbye to the insecurities. Goodbye to the pain. Goodbye to the worst of it all.

    And then I said it. “I forgive you.” I salvaged myself from the wreckage of the storms I had suffered. I pulled myself out of the ruins of an old life. I realized I was the one who decided my fate. I was the captain of my soul. I was finally free.

    3. The Reason

    I found my way by allowing myself to go on the detour. I realized that I was meant to go down the wrong road so I would be sure of the right one. My road was brilliant, one of authenticity, that uplifted me above all that I had gone through. I was able to look at my life and see what really mattered. I suddenly knew what I was here to do.

    I was here to share my gift. Any insight I could. To love.

    I started volunteering, writing, speaking to youth, and advocating for mental health awareness.

    I stopped living in the stigma of struggling and became open about my story.

    I surrendered to what was happening.

    I stopped fighting every little thing that came my way.

    I didn’t need to know what would happen with the lives I touched and the good things I did along the way. I just had to follow my path hoping others would follow it too, making it a little easier for someone else.

    All I had to do was surrender—be still, quiet my mind, allow rather than resist, let go, and find myself even when losing it all.

    Surrendering isn’t easy. In fact, it’s one of the hardest things we can do. That’s because we want control. But sometimes, surrendering is seeing uncertainty as beautiful. We don’t have to know what lies ahead in order to move forward.

    What will you do when you surrender, stop fighting reality, and allow yourself to live in your life as it is?

    Can you improve a situation, share a kindness, give to a greater cause, become a better you, and build a better world? Can you dream of doing such things? That is the first step to resilience. Focus on the beauty found in the broken situation and in you. Focus on the light you can bring into the darkness.

    It doesn’t take away from the horror of any hardship to believe in yourself and your ability to make change from it. That takes its own grieving time. But during that time, you can’t let it consume you. The tragedy that befell you, the heartbreak that happened, the hurt inside that you can’t let go… they are indeed senseless. Hence, it is imperative you don’t get stuck on asking why, as many do.

    Instead of viewing yourself as a victim, it’s time to be a victor. Overcome the odds. Let what hurts and irks you be the fuel to your fire.

    Hardships do not define us.

    What you have been through, your circumstances, do not define you.

    There will be days where you need to prioritize self-care and forgiveness for who you had to be to get to this point. Maybe you were white-knuckling through the pain in your self-care journey, maybe you did what you did in order to survive, but the good news is that today is a new day for you.

    Hold space for the sacred gift of simply being alive on those days.

    It works like a cycle. You will feel all the emotions on the spectrum, which means you will feel anger and sadness and doubt, but you will also feel joy and love and hope again the longer you hold on, the more patience you practice with yourself.

    A reason not for why this happened but why to go on will come to you.

    That reason is everything.

    When you want to give up, that’s when you say, “I surrender,” which isn’t the same thing. Giving up is shutting down. Surrendering is letting go.

    When you surrender, you don’t need things to work out a certain way. You accept life as it comes, which leads to a breakthrough. When you give up, you breakdown. Surrendering is the sacred step to realizing your full potential. It’s realizing you are your own hero, and you must not stop now.

    When you let go, you realize everything could change tomorrow. All it takes is choosing this very moment and living it. Mindfully surrendering is about releasing your fears and doubts so you can see clearly and letting the light come through.

    Don’t wait for life to change to create peace, joy, and purpose. Choose to make the best of what you have in your life, right now as it is. Surrender. Say the words, and it will change your life.

  • Everyone Has Struggles, and We All Have Our Own Lessons to Learn

    Everyone Has Struggles, and We All Have Our Own Lessons to Learn

    “The more we love the more we lose. The more we lose the more we learn. The more we learn the more we love. It comes full circle. Life is the school; love is the lesson. We cannot lose.” ~Kate McGahan

    I remember reading somewhere that we are all here on this earth to learn a lesson.

    It’s one that is made for us, and only us. Like a special recipe concocted in the stars and implanted in our tiny developing foetus.

    While it may sound a bit “woo-woo,” it was extremely comforting to read that.

    For much of my life I would compare my life to others. I’d look at those who seemed to have it all together and wonder if they ever struggled. I felt envious as they seemingly sailed through life.

    “Why do I have to deal with this and not them? What did I do wrong?”

    But maybe they are not here to learn my lesson. They are here to learn theirs, whatever that might be.

    While my life has been filled with typical ups and downs, it came to a crushing low when my sister died in 2013.

    The pain of her loss was so intense I wanted to claw myself out of my body. I really believed I was the only person in the whole world who experienced pain this excruciating.

    I would go to parties and watch people laughing and having the best time and feel so incredibly alone. It was like I was banished to another dark and miserable planet while everyone else merrily went about their lives. It angered me that others weren’t suffering like me. I kept asking myself again and again, “Why me? Why my sister?”

    I was too absorbed in my anguish to recognize that others were also going through hardships.

    It’s been seven years since my sister died, and now I understand that while my grief is specific and particular, it is not unique. Grief is just another emotion we human beings will experience during our journey through life. It’s just one of those emotions that don’t get as much airtime as joy, so we assume no one else experiences it.

    Along the way, I’ve met others who have confided in me their stories of trauma and pain that I was completely spared of. It reminded me that while things could have been different, it doesn’t necessarily mean they would have been better.

    This journey of learning that grief is shared by so many others has humbled me deeply. We all experience tragedies and heartbreak. There is no one in the world who doesn’t get hit with some kind of pain, no matter how happy and cheerful they may appear on the outset.

    When we think we are alone in our suffering we are not making it better for anyone, let alone ourselves. Focusing on ourselves and our pain is like a vortex that only isolates us further and makes us feel worse.

    In these times of immense suffering, it’s important to get outside of ourselves. Often the best remedy is to volunteer or help someone who is less fortunate than you. It will suddenly become clear that you are not the only one struggling.

    It can be so easy to forget this, especially since we live in a world of social media. Everywhere you turn there is an Instagram story being born. Everyone seems to be having the best time ever. At least that’s what they want you to think. But how much do you really know about these people you follow?

    There is a whole other side to everyone person you meet, whether online or in person, you may never actually see.

    So next time you catch yourself looking at others or scanning through social media and wondering why your life couldn’t go as smoothly as theirs, remember that there are people looking at your life wishing they had something about yours. It’s sort of like that quote, “Every time you point a finger, there are three pointing back at you.” It can be  applied to this situation too.

    And remember that everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

    Someone may struggle their whole life with an eating disorder and envy a particular model or celebrity for having a perfect body, not realizing that this particular model is coping with severe PTSD.

    The list of struggles we can face is as endless as there are people on this planet. You simply never know what someone is going through. But you can know for sure that everyone has their own path, their own challenges, and their own lessons to learn.

    I wish someone had told me this earlier, but maybe I wouldn’t have listened. Maybe this was one of the many lessons I needed to learn: no one has better or worse, they just have it different.

  • Growth Happens in the Midst of Conflict

    Growth Happens in the Midst of Conflict

  • One Question for Anyone Who’s Stuck in a Rut: What Do You Believe?

    One Question for Anyone Who’s Stuck in a Rut: What Do You Believe?

    “You become what you believe, not what you think or what you want.” ~Oprah Winfrey

    What do you believe? During the forced stillness of the pandemic environment we’re all living in, this is a question I’ve been faced with more intensely than ever. In particular, I’ve come to question what I believe about myself, and how that impacts every element of my life.

    Coming out of years of self-help for social and general anxiety, a long-standing eating disorder, and several dissatisfying personal relationships, I had to come to question what these external realities reflected back to me. For what you believe about not only your life, but more importantly, yourself, will show up again and again, and yes, again, until you’ve finally addressed the root of the problem.

    In my case, my lack of self-value resulted in many dysfunctions and setbacks in my personal and professional world.

    My deteriorating self-image led to my eating obsessions, a lack of confidence exacerbated anxieties, and the low value I placed on myself was most likely written all over me, judging by the way others showed disrespect toward me in personal relationships.

    Not only was I devaluing who I was, but I also operated from a place of being closed off to others, afraid that if I showed my true self I wouldn’t measure up to their expectations.

    This all came to a head when COVID-19 emerged and led to a global lockdown. Going off of numerous negative relationship experiences, I visited a doctor to discover I had a pelvic floor condition called vaginismus, which results in involuntary vaginal muscle tightening that makes sex and physical exams like pap smears either impossible or extremely painful.

    I spent the next four months going through physical therapy to heal my body from this condition, breaking off a new relationship to focus completely on my own journey. It amazed me how the mind and body go hand-in-hand; my muscle tightening felt like a total embodiment of years of being closed off to others and remaining safely isolated from sharing my true self.

    As I mentioned previously, prior to being diagnosed with vaginismus I’d spent years healing my mental health problems and gaining strength in my career experience.

    After high school, I was lost in my career path for a solid period of time, making lukewarm attempts at artistic endeavors such as acting and modeling, never fully prepared to take a leap and fully immerse myself in any one field.

    Again, this would require a bearing of my true self that would frighten me just to think about. Not only that, it would mean that I had the nerve to believe I was worthy of attempting a profession that’s reserved for an elite group of “special” people, a group I never considered myself to be a part of.

    I did muster up enough courage to move to Los Angeles, however, where I felt I could start a new identity. My Northern California roots felt outdated, and along with some family I sought to better myself with a fresh start.

    One of my first steps toward positive changes was a hostessing gig at a bowling alley, which forced me to get out of my shell and be more social for a change. I still felt very self-conscious, but the more I worked on interacting with customers and coworkers, the more I learned how much I loved people.

    This further developed when, following a chance Intro to Journalism course I took at Pasadena City College in Southern California, I found a new joy that I wasn’t expecting.

    I began to love writing, and not only that, my favorite element of this new career path was interviewing—something I never thought I’d be able to conquer with the severity of my social anxiety, which prevented me from going into grocery stores at its peak

    Deep down, I started to believe that something different could be possible for me. Maybe I could break out of my old mindset and turn into the person I’d always felt I was inside: someone who loved people, longed for and accomplished successful interpersonal relationships, and stood in her power, unapologetically.

    By January of 2020, I had gained a local job news writing in my home base of Burbank and felt optimistic about the future. After the pandemic hit, however, I went through a time of feeling down during isolation. This paired with the vaginismus diagnosis made me become initially quite frustrated.

    “Why is this happening to me?” I wondered. I had done a lot to overcome other personal issues, but now having to do months of diligent, and sometimes extremely painful, physical therapy felt like a punishment that I didn’t deserve.

    After a short bit of contemplation, however, I had a real and sudden shift in perspective. I simply thought, “I’ve been through more than this in the past. I’ll get through it.” I believed I could, and from that moment on dedicated myself to healing not only physically, but emotionally as well.

    Within four months I made enough progress to end in-person physical therapy appointments, I started blog writing and continued with news writing in Burbank, earned a journalism scholarship over the summer, which I contributed toward my studies, and now have just started my own independent journalism writing website.

    The more I believed that I could accomplish my goals, and the more I felt I was worthy of such things, the more I saw everything in the universe work for me, and not against me.

    Today I continue to improve my self-image, and I have a long way to go. But overall, I feel healed from where I once was.

    I’m pursuing my passions, now unashamed to show and share who I truly am.

    I demonstrate a great deal of self-respect in personal relationships, no longer tolerating poor treatment from others who don’t consider my worth.

    My diet and exercise habits are healthier, my vaginismus treatment is complete, and, although I still have to maintain physical therapy exercises, I feel grateful for where I’m at in that regard and in every aspect of my life.

    If you had asked me five years ago, prior to all of this self-improvement, what I believed about myself and my life, I probably would have said I had a promising future ahead, although my actions and interactions continuously showed otherwise.

    This is why I feel I’m at a much more positive place in life at this moment.

    Not only do I propose that I believe positive things about myself, but I now show it through my actions.

    I no longer want respect, I demand it.

    I no longer want to pursue my goals wholeheartedly, I now do it as much as I can every day.

    And not only do I dream of expressing the truth of who I am, I embody it.

    So, if you too feel like you’re stuck in a rut in your life, if you feel that the world isn’t treating you fairly, and if you don’t like what the universe is showing you, then I urge you to ask yourself:

    What do you believe? About yourself? Your worth? Your life? Your potential?

    What do you believe about what you deserve, in relationships and in your career, and what you can accomplish if you try?

    How do those beliefs affect how you show up in the world—the decisions you make, the chances you take, the things you tolerate, and the habits you follow each day?

    What would you do differently if you challenged your beliefs and recognized they’re not facts?

    And what can you do differently today to create a different outcome for tomorrow?

    These are the questions that shape our lives because our beliefs drive our choices, which ultimately determine who we become.

  • The Cages We Live In and What It Means to Be Free

    The Cages We Live In and What It Means to Be Free

    “Cages aren’t made or iron, they’re made of thoughts.” ~Unknown

    I recently read Glennon Doyle’s Untamed, and like many who have read it, I felt as if it had changed my life—but not because it made me think of all the things I was capable of (as was the case with many of friends who read it), but because it made me realize how capable I had already been.

    The book on the whole is beautiful and inspiring, but the part that stuck with me the most was the story about Tabitha, a beautiful cheetah that Glennon and her kids saw at a safari park and a lab named Minnie that had been raised alongside Tabitha, as her best friend, to help tame Tabitha.

    Glennon watched as Minnie sprinted out of her cage and chased a dirt pink bunny that was tied to a jeep.  Shortly after, Tabitha, who had been watching Minnie, ran out of her cage and chased the “dirty pink bunny” just like her best friend had just done.

    Born as a magnificent, wild beast, Tabitha had lost her wild by being caged. She had forgotten her own power, her own strength, her own identity, and had become tamed by watching her best friend. But remnants of Tabitha’s inner wild came back to life when she walked away from the pink bunny toward the perimeter of the fence that was keeping her caged in. The closer she was to the perimeter, the more fierce and regal Tabitha became.

    Glennon insightfully notes in the book that if a wild animal like a “cheetah can be tamed to forget her wild, certainly a woman can too.” And that’s when I wondered, had I also forgotten my own inner wild?  Was I spending my time trapped inside a cage when I could be pacing the perimeter instead?

    I beat myself up over that story for days while desperately trying to think of how I could break free of my metaphorical cage so I could find my way to the seemingly elusive perimeter that others seemed to have easily found and were already pacing.

    I questioned why I hadn’t worked harder, pushed further, and done more to create the life I truly wanted, especially when it became painfully clear that the one I was living didn’t fit that description.  And that’s when it suddenly hit me. Like a ton of bricks falling on me out of nowhere:

    I didn’t need to make my way to the perimeter. I was already there. Truth be told, I had been there for most of my life, and it was so familiar to me that I didn’t even notice it anymore.

    As I sat there in the midst of this comprehension, I looked back on my life and suddenly the steps to the perimeter all seemed to fall in place.

    When I fell in a bucket of boiling water at two years old and put aside my own discomfort to comfort my mother who had broken down at the sight of my burned body, I took a step towards the perimeter.

    When I moved to America at the age of seven and couldn’t understand the language and was instantly labeled as “stupid” but kept going anyway, refusing to let them define who I was, I took another step towards that perimeter.

    When I watched my younger sister die of an incurable illness and kept her light alive inside of me by recognizing the beauty of her life and not just the heartache of her death, I moved closer to the perimeter.

    When I said no to becoming a teacher or a doctor—an unfathomable and disgraceful choice for women of my culture during those times—I took another step toward the perimeter.

    When I refused an arranged marriage, again disgracing my family in the process, the perimeter was directly in my sight.

    By the time I took off for law school (much to my parents’ continuing dismay), the perimeter and I were practically face to face.

    For a while I stayed at the perimeter, quietly stalking my surroundings with the same pride and inner fierceness as the cheetah who inspired these ramblings. But I now realize I was never meant to stay at the perimeter—I was always meant to go beyond it.

    Until I did, I would remain trapped inside my own inner chaos. And the calm I was so desperately seeking would continue to evade me. That inner restlessness that just wouldn’t go away, that indescribable lack of fulfillment and the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach… those were all signs that I was ready to move beyond the perimeter. I was ready to uncage more than just myself—I was ready to uncage my soul.

    That’s why I was repeatedly drawn back to certain people, programs, and even books. I was ready to free myself of all restrictions and for that matter, all perimeters.

    The process hasn’t been easy. And at times, it has been beyond lonely. But it has also been rewarding, deeply healing, and transformative at the same time. And perhaps most importantly of all, it has allowed me to understand that in one way or another, we are all here to break free of the cages that have encased most of us for the majority of our life.

    Some cages are imposed upon us by the thoughts and ideas of those around us, and other times we put ourselves into them, willingly. So we can avoid discomfort, pain, suffering, change, growth, and our own rebirth.

    Sometimes they can even be helpful, but other times they do nothing but hold us back. The steel cages often tell us who to be, where to live, what we “should” do for a living, how to behave, and even who to like or dislike.

    Often, the cages come in different colors, shapes, and sizes. Some are made of gold and filled with expensive toys and bribes to keep us from going outside of them.  Their allure is simply too hard to resist for some people, even though they are often accompanied by gold shackles.

    Others are sparkly and filled with all that glitters. The shine is so intense that their occupants don’t even know they’re in a cage. They’re so fixated with the glitter that they spend their entire lives confined inside and never even realize they’re no freer than the people they’ve been looking down on as being “trapped.”

    And of course, there are some who live in small, dark, and dingy cages that they desperately want to escape but dare not try to because they’re so convinced that it’s safer, easier, and more comfortable to just stay.

    Those are the people that are so afraid of their own power and the taste of true freedom that they probably wouldn’t leave even if the cage door was opened for them.

    And then there are the brave. Those that are truly courageous and have no desire to be confined by any cage or any limits. Those are the people who will do whatever it takes to break the cage so they can set themselves and all of humanity free.

    Those are the people who are roaming beyond the perimeter and have uncaged far more than their physical body—they have uncaged their very soul, and along with it, the many lifetimes of memories, wisdom, and truth it holds inside.

    Those are the people I want to run with. Those are the people I want to call my tribe. Those are the people that, when I meet them, I’ll know I have found my home.

  • Not Safe to Disagree

    Not Safe to Disagree

  • How Being in a Toxic Relationship Changed My Life for the Better

    How Being in a Toxic Relationship Changed My Life for the Better

    “Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars.  You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” ~C.S. Lewis

    My ex and I split up about five years ago. We had been married for seventeen years, and after that long, I figured we were home free, as far as lasting marriages go. Needless to say, when it happened, I was devastated. Over all those years of being a couple, I had lost a big part of myself. Without that relationship, who was I anymore?

    I was terrified of being alone, which led me to start exploring the dating world much too soon.

    I dated a really nice guy that I just wasn’t into and we became friends. I dated a guy (once) that freaked me out and taught me never to get in a car with a stranger. I dated a guy that ghosted me. Finally, I dated a guy that I thought was my soul mate. He nearly ruined my life.

    When I met him, I wasn’t all that into him. He seemed too quiet for me, but he was cute and after a few dates, I started to really like him. We were both mid-divorce, and we had a lot in common. We could talk for hours. He was thoughtful and offered his time and affection freely.

    After a couple months, he changed. He became very quiet and contemplative, and the conversation waned. He was always lacking in energy and never wanted to go out and do anything fun, which was totally the opposite of me. In a healthier mental state, maybe I would have seen the red flags.

    We connected on a deeper level though, when he did talk. We were both in search of meaning in our lives. We were both trying to make sense of it all. I felt like we had this deep bond unlike anything I had experienced in a partner before. We both struggled with depression and with finding our places in this new life after divorce.   

    I needed someone to fill the hole that my ex-husband had left, and I wanted connection so badly. People told me I had to learn to be alone and get to know myself again first, but I didn’t want to hear that. The only thing I wanted was to feel whole again, and at the time whole meant being with someone. 

    As he grew distant, I tried harder and harder to get attention and affection from him. And, of course, the more I tried to get the affection, love, and attention I so desperately wanted, the more he pulled away.

    I felt like I was drowning in a rushing river, trying desperately to grasp onto something—anything—that would help me fill the void left by my failed marriage. I wanted him to treat me like he loved and cared for me, and he was just not willing to do that, or maybe he just wasn’t capable.

    The constant fishing for him to say the words I wanted to hear and to make me feel how I wanted to feel was exhausting and unbearably frustrating. I couldn’t understand how someone could be so selfish when I was giving so much.

    We’d been together for about five or six months when he started having debilitating anxiety accompanied by suicidal thoughts. One night, when he was afraid to be alone, I rearranged my schedule with my kids so I could stay with him to make sure he was okay. He ended up feeling like he needed hospitalization to stay safe.

    I stayed by his side the entire time, and when he was admitted to the inpatient program, I visited him every day, without fail. I rearranged my days so I could be there for him. I was practically existing to be needed by him.

    As he was preparing to be released from inpatient, he was afraid to be alone in case his anxiety worsened and he started having suicidal thoughts again. He asked if he could stay with me, which was tricky since I have two kids who were going through this difficult time of divorce as well. It wasn’t ideal, but in my state of needing to be needed, I was ready to help him however I could—whatever it took.

    His parents ended up coming to stay with him, so that measure wasn’t necessary, but it also meant he didn’t need me anymore.

    All of his attention was focused inward and on getting better, and not at all toward me or showing any appreciation for the sacrifices I was making for him. Let’s be clear—this is how it should have been, and I know that he absolutely needed to take care of himself, but it made me crazy.

    I wanted him to love me like I (thought) I loved him. I just couldn’t see that he was not in a place where he could really love anyone. That hole I was trying to fill just kept getting wider and deeper.

    When he was hospitalized, it almost normalized the experience for me. He got a break from life for a few days and I basically dropped my life to save his.

    Maybe he’d do the same thing for me, and maybe he’d finally give me the attention I craved. Maybe, just maybe, I could start to fill in that big hole in my heart. This was, of course, a subconscious line of thinking at the time, but in hindsight, I can see that I was grasping for any shred of validation from him that I was worthy of his love. 

    I was severely depressed. I had thrown myself so hard into this relationship, and I wasn’t getting anything back. I ended up being hospitalized too because of the depression, pain, and hopelessness I was feeling.

    He spent a little time being supportive, but he didn’t drop everything to be there for me like I did when he needed me. He only came and visited me once.

    I had never felt so alone in my life.

    The relationship had grown to be so dysfunctional that I had lost any shred of sanity that I had left. Looking back, it feels a little embarrassing that I stayed in this place when everyone I knew told me to get out. I wanted the relationship to work—at any cost.

    He broke up with me right before Christmas that year, which was also completely devastating to me.  I didn’t take it well, and I hated him for it.

    To make matters worse, in the new year, he texted me to tell me that he missed me. We started hanging out again and maintained a “friends with benefits” kind of relationship. How dumb could I be?? 

    Again, I was there whenever he needed me, at great cost to my own well-being. I held on to this shred of hope that maybe things would work out. Somehow, someday.

    His depression and anxiety eventually flared up again, and he took some time to go to North Carolina to stay with his parents for a month while he attended a partial hospitalization program.

    We stayed in contact the whole time, and toward the end of his stay there, he talked about how he was starting to feel like we should get back together. I was still in heart hole-filling mode, so in my mind, it was like things were finally coming together—this was why I had stuck it out so long, after all, right?

    When he came home from North Carolina, we didn’t really talk about “being back together,” but it sure felt that way. It finally felt nice—like I had wished for, for so long.

    And then one day, everything changed.

    I invited some friends over for my birthday, and he was supposed to help me with the food, but he was late. Really late. I tried calling him multiple times with no answer. As I hung out with my friends and tried to make fun conversation and pretend nothing was wrong, I felt hurt, unimportant, unworthy, and small. When he finally did show up, something was odd about him. When he left that night, I went to kiss him, it felt forced and awkward.

    Later that week, when I pressed him on it, he told me he was on a date with the woman he knew would be his future wife.

    After one date we were over. Like a switch flipped.

    After one date, he was exclusively dating another woman whom he would marry someday, and he didn’t even apologize, explain, or get how crappy all of it was. 

    I was so angry, but I was also blindsided, hurt, and I felt like an idiot. I had given so much of myself for him, and he treated me terribly and without care. The rest of the details aren’t necessarily important, but in the end, I told him to f* off and that I didn’t ever want to see or talk to him again.

    All of my hurt was finally starting to turn into something useful—anger and self-respect.

    I think I needed anger to leave that relationship behind and realize how much better off I was going to be without him.

    I didn’t really start to heal from the pain of my divorce until after this moment, and I didn’t really date for a while after that.

    I reconnected with friends I saw much less of when I was dating him. I reconnected with myself. I learned how to be alone, and how to appreciate that time.

    I learned what I want and need in a relationship.

    Most of all though, I learned that I am worthy of love and I deserve someone who wants to give back. I learned that I shouldn’t settle for less than someone that wants to be an equal partner in my life.

    Despite how horrible that time was, I am so grateful for the experience because of  how much I learned about myself and grew during that time.   

    We were just two people who were struggling with where we were in life. We weren’t right for each other, but we were put in each other’s path to teach each other something.

    He ended up getting married to the woman he was with when he was late to my birthday party, and I am so thankful that she ended up as his wife and not me.

    I like to believe that he really is a good person that was just going through a tough time when he met me. I do wish him the best. We all deserve that, right? I could even go so far as to thank him for the things he helped me learn.

    The lessons that came out of this very painful experience are many, and I want to summarize them so that you, too, can learn from my mistakes. I hope you find these helpful.

    You Are Absolutely Worthy of All the Love

    You deserve the world, even if you have to give it to yourself. It doesn’t matter who you are, you deserve love. Yes, you. And if you are with someone who doesn’t love you like you deserve to be loved, you should look elsewhere, or even better, within.

    Move on. For real.

    Figure Out How to Love Yourself First

    It’s been said that you can’t really love anyone until you learn to love yourself. I don’t think you can really truly accept and feel love until you learn to love yourself first, either.

    What’s more, when you learn to love yourself, you don’t need another person to fill any emotional holes. You are already whole all on your own. The love you find when you are whole is a different kind of love, and it’s beautiful.

    How do you learn to love yourself? Start by simply being with yourself. Fill the hole with your own care and attention. This will lead to respecting yourself, which in time will lead to valuing yourself.

    You Have Value as a Person

    Part of your journey in life is seeing that you are worth making the trip. It might be hard to see, but you most definitely are.

    If you are with someone that can’t see how valuable you are, you’re with the wrong person. You have unique talents. You are beautiful, and you are amazing. There is someone out there that will see it. But you have to believe it, too.

    Every Experience in Your Life Has Something to Teach You

    I bet if you look at all of the challenging experiences in your life, you can find at least one thing you learned from each. If you don’t agree with me, I can almost guarantee that you’re not trying hard enough.

    It’s through challenges that we grow. If I hadn’t had this difficult experience, it wouldn’t have led me to my current partner, who loves me and supports me more than I could have ever dreamed of. I learned so much about relationships, and myself, that I wouldn’t have otherwise learned, and who knows, I might not have been ready to meet the love of my life.

    Letting Go Can Be a Beautiful Thing

    Letting go is hard.

    We want what we want, and it takes a lot of trust to walk away from a sure thing when you don’t know what the future will hold.

    It’s hard to accept that sometimes what we want isn’t the best thing for us. But you have to trust that by letting go you’ll open up to better things.

    And sometimes the best thing for you is to simply to live without a person who isn’t good for you.

  • How Conflict in Relationships Can Be a Catalyst for Growth

    How Conflict in Relationships Can Be a Catalyst for Growth

    “The mind is the place the soul goes to hide from the heart.” ~Michael Singer

    “You think you’re so much better than me!!”

    As this phrase—laced with contempt—exited my mouth, I recognized the familiar words. I had grown up hearing this phrase often. The “rich people,” the girl who won the competition, the inconsiderate neighbors, the rude supervisor… “They think they’re so much better than us.”

    So, I diligently spent my childhood trying to prove them all wrong.

    I wore myself out trying to be the smartest, the best, the prettiest… you name it. I wasn’t going to let all those losers be better than me, or my family. No way!

    But who was I really fighting against?

    The answer is no one.

    In truth, I was fighting against my parents’ belief system, which came from their own childhoods. I was fighting their ghosts from the past. But I didn’t know that at the time.

    I had no idea I had carried this belief system into my own adult life. After exhausting myself trying to prove I was worthy as a child, I then spent decades working on self-improvement and personal growth. I had moved beyond all that silly limited thinking.

    Or so I thought.

    Until that day in the kitchen with my husband…

    In my mid-forties…

    When he politely declined to eat the meat I had prepared for dinner.

    Suddenly an uncontrollable rage welled up inside me, and I screamed at him, with tears streaming down my face…

    “YOU THINK YOU’RE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME!”

    My mind immediately starting playing endless clips of all the times my husband had demonstrated his assumed superiority over me. I was completely triggered and unhinged, so I bought into it.

    As I continued on with my ridiculous fit, another part of me, a more detached part, asked this simple question: “Where is all this coming from?”

    Immediately, I recognized the familiar phrase. I knew exactly where it came from. I stopped my raging in an instant and excused myself to the bedroom.

    Once there, I took the energy away from the mind and into the heart. There was no need to analyze it. No need to further engage the mind in its joyous rebuke of my innocent husband.

    Michael Singer has a quote that I love. “The mind is the place the soul goes to hide from the heart.” We don’t want to feel those painful feelings, so we rationalize them endlessly in the mind. But, there’s another option. I placed my attention in the heart, disengaged from the continuing chaos in my mind, and allowed the energy to release.

    Minutes later, I went back to the kitchen, feeling much calmer, and apologized to my husband. Peace was restored. I had also progressed spiritually by releasing some of the stored garbage that had been hiding in my heart for decades.

    I’m now to the point where I can be grateful when my husband hits a nerve, presses my buttons, triggers me, or whatever you prefer to call it. I’m only able to release that old stuff when it gets hit and brought to the surface. Otherwise, it just lays there, dormant, silently waiting for the perfect opportunity to erupt. Like a volcano.

    We all know the feeling of that volcano when it erupts without notice. Those closest to us are the most adept at causing an eruption. They can so skillfully and predictably hit our stuff.

    We eventually realize that an intimate relationship is like a mirror. Our partner has an uncanny ability to reflect back to us the parts of ourselves that need the most healing. If we understand this, we can learn to use the conflict in our relationship as a catalyst for spiritual growth.

    We can stop the blame and anger. Instead, we feel immense gratitude when we find yet another old wound in need of healing. This is how we grow spiritually together. And, in the process, we create great connection and intimacy.

    In an intimate relationship, we are like two rough pieces of sandpaper, constantly rubbing up against each other. Over time, if we use this process to our benefit, we become smoother. Then, our relationship reflects back to us this smoother, gentler, happier version of ourselves.

    We don’t get so triggered anymore. We chill out. We are able to enjoy life and each other. Peacefully. Joyously.

  • Why My “Self-Care” Did More Harm Than Good

    Why My “Self-Care” Did More Harm Than Good

    “Self-care is how you take your power back.” ~Lalah Delia

    Self-care is not a bubble bath.

    I mean, it might be, if you’re the kind of person who feels like they’re committing a mortal sin by allowing themselves to wade in hot water with a candle or a book for twenty minutes alone. If that’s you, then yes. Please allow yourself a bubble bath. Regularly!

    Same with a massage. Or scheduling time for exercise. Or buying yourself some new underwear. Or taking a nap.

    If the idea of doing these things makes you feel squirmy and selfish and, Nooooo, I just can’t! then this is probably your brand of self-care.

    It is not mine, though.

    You see, I’ve never had a problem giving myself more treats. More me time! More pleasures! More whatever-I-feel-like-right-now! Treat Yo-Self wasn’t something I needed to be talked into—it was just public permission to do more of what I had always done.

    By this kind of definition of self-care, I was winning the Self-Care Olympics. Why was it so hard for everyone else? I wondered, as I treated myself to another bath after my middle-of-the-day nap following by my weekly massage, while my taxes from three years ago went untouched for another day, the organic groceries in my refrigerator rotted in deference to another night of Treat Yo-Self takeout, and I canceled a therapy appointment because I just didn’t feel like going (again).

    For the longest time, I waded in an ocean of cognitive dissonance. I didn’t feel like the kind of person who had a drinking problem, or lied, or who didn’t follow-through, or was flaky, or God forbid, lazy. I mean, I had so much evidence to the contrary! I was accomplished, I got a lot of things done, I presented well, people still loved me, and I had such good intentions!

    Except my behavior pointed squarely to those things.

    The disconnect ate at me. I knew I was tap-dancing a whole lot. I knew my good intentions were an excuse for shitty behavior. I knew that I was skating by in a lot of scenarios at work, with friends, in my financial life, at home. I knew that most of what I had accomplished was done at fifty percent, or less. I cut corners a lot.

    I knew, even if I didn’t know, that much of my life was a house of cards.

    So when I practiced the Instagram brand of #selfcare by pampering myself, I had this niggling sense that maybe more pampering wasn’t what I actually needed.

    Which brings me to discipline.

    Discipline has begrudgingly become my brand of self-care. Discipline is what has actually created freedom in my life, contrary to what I long believed. I thought my free-spirited ways were an act of rebellion against the monotony of life. That I was showing some kind of ballsy dissent toward the banality of adulthood Carpe diem and all that!

    Meanwhile, through my twenties and thirties, I trembled inside, unsure as to why everyone else seemed to do adult things so easily and automatically. I thought maturity was an automatic function of time, a passive effect of getting older. Somehow, it would just magically happen!

    Alas, no.

    This one concept has made an enormous difference in my life: for me, self-care looks like discipline.

    It looks like finishing things I start and pausing for a minute before I start another thing to consider the implications of starting said thing in the first place: financially, timewise, energy-wise, and who I might be impacting negatively if I don’t follow through.

    It means boundaries on screen time. Limiting the amount of sugar I put in my body.

    It means teaching my daughter to do things for herself instead of doing them for her because the latter is easier and causes less friction in the moment. It also means following through on consequences I lay down for her, even though it makes my life temporarily harder.

    It means waking at basically the same time every morning, so I get in the practices that keep me steady before the rest of the world wakes up: morning pages, meditation, coffee, quiet.

    It means abiding by commitments and being very exact about the commitments I make.

    It means sticking to my word as much as possible, even when I don’t want to.

    It means saying no to myself more than I say yes.

    It means asking if my future self will thank me for what I’m about to do versus my in-this-moment self, and actually listening when the answer is, No, your future self will not appreciate this, Laura.

    It often means doing what’s necessary over what’s fun.

    Self-care for me means discipline because that’s what is uncomfortable for me. That’s what I struggle to do. It goes against my default patterning, and going against our patterning is how we change.

  • Become a Certified Meditation Teacher – Train with Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach

    Become a Certified Meditation Teacher – Train with Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach

    Hi friends!

    Since I know many of you are passionate about mindfulness and meditation and creating a more peaceful world, I’m excited to share that Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach are accepting applications for their next two-year Mindfulness Meditation Teacher Certificate Program.

    Though it’s primarily an online learning experience—which means you can participate from anywhere in the world—you’ll have the option to attend two in-person, three-day workshops in the Washington, DC area. And for those who can’t attend, they’ll be livestreaming the sessions and will also make a replay available.

    Space is limited due to mentorship availability and the live events, and the last certification program sold out quickly, so if you’re interested, you may want to get your application in soon.

    In addition to sessions with special guest teachers including Eckart Tolle, Kristin Neff, Dan Siegel, and many others, the upcoming program brings you a complete curriculum that covers the transformational principles underlying meditation and an exploration of the interface of meditation with Western psychology and cutting-edge science.

    Through this in-depth, groundbreaking program, you will:

    • Learn how to teach meditation with tools for body, heart, mind, and community
    • Receive guidelines on how to establish classes and workshops
    • Gain skills that apply mindfulness and self-compassion to relationships, conflict, trauma, organizational wisdom, and societal change
    • Join a vibrant international community of mindfulness teachers around the world

    With successful completion of this teacher training program, you will receive a certificate from the Awareness Training Institute, and their partner, the Greater Good Science Center at the University of California, Berkeley. This credential will support you in establishing meditation classes, workshops, and trainings in communities, organizations, and institutions throughout the world.

    If you’re excited by the idea of making a living supporting others in their healing and personal growth, click here to learn more. Early admissions applications (for discounted tuition) are due March 23rd, and the program starts on February 18th, 2021.

  • The Beautiful Thing About Life

    The Beautiful Thing About Life

  • My Pain Was a Gift and a Catalyst for Growth

    My Pain Was a Gift and a Catalyst for Growth

    “Sometimes pain is the teacher we require, a hidden gift of healing and hope.” ~Janet Jackson

    I was becoming more and more confused as to what my feelings were toward my husband. Longing for that personal adult male connection, I started to feel trapped in my marriage. However, I still had a very strong sense of our family unit and my commitment to it.

    I wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize the family, even if it meant sacrificing my personal happiness. I made a conscious decision that my life was enough. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

    However, within a few months, I knew in my heart that my husband and I were further apart emotionally than even I could accept or ignore any longer. I had to address it, but I had to do it carefully. I wanted to make sure my husband understood that I still loved him; we just needed to work on some things. I believed it would make both of us happier.

    I found time one night after dinner. We had just finished cleaning up the kitchen and were standing by the counter. The mood was relaxed and we had some privacy; the girls were busy working on their homework upstairs. It seemed as good a time as any.

    I took a deep breath and blurted out, “I think we are not as close as married people should be.”

    My husband looked at me funny, first a little quizzically as if he didn’t understand what he had just heard. Then his face relaxed and a look of release washed over it. His response shocked me to my core.

    “I agree,” he said with relief. “I haven’t loved you for a long time. I was just pretending.”

    “What? What did you just say?!?” I stammered, feeling as if I couldn’t catch my breath.

    His words were suffocating. I stood there, motionless, as a torrent of emotions raged inside of me. I looked into the eyes of the person I thought I knew completely, that I had trusted without question. A cold, damp feeling of dread came over me. He was the person I thought loved me unconditionally, the one that I had built my life with.

    What did he just say?

    Now, I wasn’t expecting flowers and chocolates. But I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting his response to be more along the lines of “I agree. I feel it too. What can we do about it?”

    I was astonished. I was numb. I cried. I pleaded for some explanation. He had none. He said he would have gone on pretending forever, but since I dared to bring it up, he was able to finally be honest. We briefly tried marriage counseling, but his mind was made up. He didn’t love me. He was sorry. He felt guilty for the pain he was causing the girls and me, but he didn’t love me.

    We were divorced within the year. Everyone marveled at how civil we were. How well I was handling everything. I went into survival mode during the divorce proceedings.

    I had to protect my children emotionally. All of my strength went into doing that. I had to stay calm. I knew they were watching me. I tried not to argue. I tried to act normally. Really, I tried.

    I also had to financially protect myself and my children. There were so many things to think about. How could I stay in the house with the kids? They were in high school by then and I didn’t want to uproot them. How could I pay for college? We were just getting by with two salaries and one house. How could I make this work? We eventually figured the financial part out. In comparison, that turned out to be the easy part.

    He moved out, we got divorced, and then I fell apart.

    This experience exposed some very deep wounds within me. Wounds I had that for many years had been scabbed over. Deep, thick scabs that protected me and allowed me to pretend they weren’t there. Now, without warning, they had been ripped wide open.

    Wounds are funny things. We all have them. We respond from them, sometimes consciously, but many times not. They affect our thoughts and behaviors even when we’re not aware of it. If we look close enough we can even see others’ wounds in their actions.

    Some wounds can lie dormant for many years and only return to taunt us when we are faced with the very thing that wounded us. And the funniest thing of all is that wounds don’t heal on their own, regardless of how much we pretend they are not there. We have to heal them ourselves.

    My personal wounds had to do with self-love and my relationships with others. And they were deep, deeper than I had ever realized. When they resurfaced, I was surprised not only by their presence but by their intensity. There had been signs through the years, but they were easy enough to ignore.

    My wounds might surprise you. I believe most people consider me to be a smart, attractive, capable woman with many accomplishments in my life. “Capable” as a nice way to say assertive or a take-charge kind of woman.

    But there is also another side to me, a side that has deep-rooted feelings of not being “good enough” or not being “worth the effort”. My thoughts would go something like “I’m pretty, just not pretty enough. I’m thin, just not thin enough.” I’m smart, but intelligence wasn’t something celebrated in a girl growing up during the sixties and seventies. We were told to make sure we weren’t smarter than our future husbands, because men didn’t find smart women attractive, and God forbid of all things, don’t be capable.

    But the traits not celebrated were the ones I clung to. I believed they were all I had to offer. I was the smart and capable one. My intellect and the sheer force of my will allowed me to succeed in most endeavors. I became goal-oriented and proved my worth by accomplishing my goals. I never allowed myself to fail, because success was expected, it was the only thing that I believed validated me.

    That, however, didn’t translate into healthy personal relationships. I didn’t find value in myself as a whole person, so in turn, I never believed that the whole of me could be embraced, cherished, and loved. I was the only the “smart” and “capable” one.

    Why couldn’t I love myself? Why didn’t I feel I was worth the effort? Why didn’t I see the whole person and celebrate my strengths, laugh at my weaknesses, and cherish the little girl in me that was just doing the best she could?

    Eight years ago, I didn’t know. Today, after having lived through deep pain and more personal self-reflection and inner work than I care to admit, I believe I have some understanding of the larger journey.

    Pain was my catalyst. Deep, aching pain that stopped me in my tracks and made me choose between exiting this lifetime (yes, I considered it) and seeking deeper answers to heal the ball of hurt I had become. I chose to seek deeper answers and that was the beginning of my spiritual journey.

    Over the years I have learned to open my heart to myself and look at my experiences with a wider lens. I see my divorce and subsequent pain and depression as a gift that transformed my life and me along with it.

    I’ve traveled back into my childhood and identified the core trauma that I experienced that shaped the personality (the smart, capable, one) and the embedded belief (I had to succeed to have value) from the essence of who I am. That took a lot of work because the personality traits and beliefs we create are so intertwined into who we think we are that it is difficult to separate them, as they have been ‘us’ for our whole lives.

    In our defense, much of the ‘less than’ beliefs we hold are a result of the negative, punitive language that is deeply embedded in our religious and spiritual constructs. Many of us have come from a traditional religious belief system of ‘original sin and karma that we need forgiveness for’ and move to a spiritual belief system of ‘we need to learn our lessons and repeating our lessons until we finally get them.’

    What if there is nothing to learn and no penance to do? What if everything in life is an experience for us to feel emotion and live from that deep space? That every emotion is an opportunity for us to expand our awareness and embrace the magnificence of who we are.

    Deep emotions shake us out of our complacent lives and spur us into action.

    In the experience is the emotion and in the emotion is the gift.

    Keep digging because the real you is in there.