Tiny Buddha

Tag: Happiness

  • 8 Tips So You Don’t Lose Yourself In Your Next Relationship

    8 Tips So You Don’t Lose Yourself In Your Next Relationship

    “Never lose yourself in a relationship. Love your partner fiercely, but always follow your unique dreams and desires. Be true to yourself.” ~Unknown

    All my previous relationships drained me.

    Not only because I was with the wrong men and kept trying to make things work where there was no way, but also because I was a queen of justifying, accommodating, and compromising.

    I accommodated men because I wanted to be liked and avoid rejection.

    I justified their lousy behavior because I wanted to be in a relationship and not be alone.

    I compromised on my values and romantic ideals just to have someone in my life.

    On the surface, I was an independent woman, strong, fierce, and full of energy and opinions.

    When it came to relationships, I’d lose my power and myself completely in them.

    I would become a meek mouse with no voice or opinions. I would put my boyfriend’s needs first and ignore mine. I would keep quiet about how I felt. I wouldn’t question things.

    It took me a few love attempts and ten years of random dating to recognize my unhealthy patterns.

    Firstly, I was subconsciously copying the behavior of my mum, who needed to survive with my despotic dad in a very turbulent relationship. I didn’t know any better until I learned the hard way.

    Secondly, I didn’t feel worthy of love. I didn’t feel like I was good enough for anyone. I was afraid to be myself, as I didn’t feel like I had much to offer.

    Thirdly, I wasn’t happy with myself and my life and I believed a relationship would change that, so my desire to be in one was pretty strong.

    These patterns made me feel and act like I was desperate for love. So, once I landed myself a boyfriend, I’d do anything to please him and keep him in my life.

    I would be a cheerful giver. I would take all the responsibility for the relationship on my own shoulders. I would make my men’s life easier by doing things for them and sometimes against myself. I would accommodate their busy schedules, moods, and issues. I would help them improve their self-esteem and lifestyle so they’d feel happier within. I would completely disappear in my relationships.

    Everything in my relationships was about the men. They became my main focus and the most important thing in my life.

    I would abandon myself. I would give up my friends, my passions, and my dreams. I would lose my own identity in the name of love. My main priority was to keep them happy so I could keep the relationships.

    But even all the crazy giving and accommodating wouldn’t keep dysfunctional relationships going. So, when it came to an end, I would have nothing left to give.

    Every split left me feeling empty. It almost felt like a little part of me died after every relationship.

    I didn’t know who I was anymore because I was focusing so heavily on the relationship that I’d completely neglect myself.

    It didn’t feel healthy at all.

    When I started to become more aware of my patterns and how harmful they were to me and my love life, I made some promises to myself.

    1. The relationship with myself comes first

    2. A man will never be more important to me than I am to myself

    3. I will always love myself more than any man in my life

    Although they might sound a bit harsh, these rules have served me and my relationship amazingly well so far.

    The truth is, your relationship with yourself is the most important one in your life. Also, it is the foundation of any other relationship, so it makes sense to prioritize and nurture it.

    If you love someone else more than yourself, you will always compromise too much, ignore the red flags, get hurt, and lose yourself in your relationships.

    You can’t love in a healthy way unless you love yourself first. Also, the love for yourself will help you set stronger boundaries in relationships, protect yourself, and find the courage to walk away from any relationship that doesn’t serve you.

    Along with these promises, I also made a decision that I wanted to create something different in my love life. I wanted to create a healthy and happy relationship, unlike the one my parents had and the ones I’d had in the past.

    To do that, I needed to become someone different. Not really a different person, but become braver and more authentic in my relationships. Otherwise, what is the point?

    I needed to start speaking my mind, expressing my feelings, and asking for what I wanted. I simply needed to become more vulnerable in my relationships.

    Firstly, I took a break from dating and focused on becoming happier and stronger.

    Secondly, when I found the right person, I had some new rules in place to support myself in staying strong in my relationship. I didn’t want to lose myself in a relationship again. Because, to be honest, losing yourself is far more painful than losing a relationship. And it will take you forever to find your strength, dignity, and truth again.

    Here are some things I did differently, before and after getting into a new relationship, that you can do too to make sure you don’t lose yourself.

    Establish a strong foundation while you are single.

    We lose ourselves in relationships because we don’t feel worthy of love and our boundaries are weak. When you love yourself, you know how you want to feel and be in your next relationship. You also set healthy boundaries, which prevents you from losing your identity in a relationship.

    How do you start loving yourself? Here are three tips you can implement straightaway.

    1. Start every day by asking yourself: What do I need today? How can I be loving with myself today? Follow the answers, as they will help you be more loving and respectful of yourself.

    2. Operate from a loving, compassionate place within yourself. Choose people, situations, and things in your life that serve you and don’t harm you. Honor your own needs and feelings. Be kind to yourself. Stop judging yourself. Set some powerful boundaries to protect your time and energy. Become your own cheerleader. Listen to your own intuition.

    3. Change your priorities. You come first, everything else comes after. Choose yourself. Make your own wellbeing a priority. Put yourself first when you can. Make yourself important in your own life. Stop people pleasing. You matter!

    When you start following the path of self-love you will start showing up differently in your life and your relationships.

    Know who you are.

    Know your needs. Know your desires. Know your dreams. Know your values. Know your priorities. Know yourself basically. This knowledge will prevent you from compromising too much in a relationship. Your strong sense of self will help you stick to what is truly important to you. This will give you a sense of security, which comes from within and not from your relationship.

    I have two little exercises that will help you get to know and understand yourself and your needs better.

    1. Create a list of your current needs. Grab a piece of paper and create four columns. Title each column: emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual. Take your time and explore what you need in these four categories to feel fulfilled.

    2. Write down your top five to ten priorities. These are the things that are important to you that you’d like to focus on right now. List them in order of importance.

    These exercises will give you a stronger direction in life and help you explore what is truly important to you. It makes sense to revisit them occasionally, since things will likely change over time. Your needs will be different a few months down the line. Your priorities will be different, as we are always growing and evolving. The goal isn’t to define yourself in rigid terms, but to understand what you need and want at this point in your life.

    Have strong boundaries.

    Know your non-negotiables in relationships. Things you won’t tolerate. Things you don’t want to compromise on. Things you don’t want in your relationship. And communicate them so your partner knows and respects your limits.

    Healthy boundaries will make you feel stronger and more empowered in your next relationship. If you don’t honor your boundaries, you will feel exhausted, overwhelmed, and drained. Healthy boundaries prevent you from losing yourself in love.

    Have your own friends.

    It’s very easy to get infatuated in a new relationship, get all loved up and forget about the whole world outside. As much as it’s a natural part of every new relationship, don’t forget about your friends. Schedule regular time with them. They’ve been your rock and a sounding board many times, and can be now as well. Don’t limit your life just to your new partner. You need some other perspective.

    Have your own life.

    Just because you are in a relationship that doesn’t mean you need to give up the things you love doing—even if you feel tempted, especially at the beginning when things are exciting, and you want to spend as much time with the person as possible. It’s important to maintain your normal routine as you can.

    Make time for the things you love doing. Make them your priority because they contribute to your happiness, so they are just as important as your relationship. Keep some hobbies you only do on your own or with people other than your partner. Plan some time every week when you do things separately. Schedule solo dates. Cultivate a spiritual practice. Stick to your exercise routine.

    Doing things on your own will help you stay connected to yourself and cultivate a sense of self. It will also keep your relationship fresh. No relationship can fulfill all your needs and desires. That is why you need different things in your life, apart from your relationship, to keep you growing and expanding in new directions. Also, the time you spend on your own will help you nurture the relationship with yourself and keep your independence.

    Stay true to yourself.

    Don’t suddenly change who you are for someone else. For example, don’t suddenly pretend you’re a football lover just because your boyfriend likes football or don’t force yourself to do shopping with your girlfriend just to please her. Be honest with yourself and communicate what you like and what you don’t with your partner.

    Also, make some independent decisions. You don’t need to consult your partner about every single decision. Express your opinions. Share your thoughts. Speak your mind. Tell them how you feel. All of these will help your partner to understand you better.

    Communicate openly.

    Talk about how you feel. Talk about what isn’t working for you. Talk about what you like and dislike. Even tell your new partner that you are afraid of losing yourself in the relationship again. I did and my partner supported me in trying to maintain my own identity. Honest and open communication will only bring your closer. You can only improve a relationship when you know what is not working. So, talk openly!

    Stop the over giving and accommodating.

    Over giving usually comes from not seeing your own value and seeking approval. We believe the more we give, the more love we will get back from our partner. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that. In the long run, it is a sure way to increase resentment and feel taken for granted. And resentment is one of the factors that determines the happiness and longevity of the relationship. So, when you over give, you don’t only risk losing yourself in the relationship but also losing the relationship.

    —

    Reflect back on your relationships. How you felt, how you compromised, how you betrayed yourself. Our previous relationships can give us a huge amount of knowledge about ourselves. So, look at the mistakes you have made in the past and learn from them.

    Decide what you don’t want to repeat and what you want to do differently in your next relationship. Commit to staying strong and true to yourself. Set the rules which you are going to follow once you meet someone—you can use the ones I created for myself or create your own!

    Healthy relationships are created by two strong and complete individuals who can exist without each other.

    Healthy relationships are free of co-dependency.

    Healthy relationships start from a healthy relationship with yourself. The stronger your relationship with yourself, the lesser the possibility that you will lose the sense of self in your next relationship.

    You can build strong foundations now by getting to know yourself, exploring life on your own, and establishing habits which make you happy.

    When you feel strong within and when you meet the right person, you will stay grounded throughout the first phase of dating and have a better judgment.

    You will keep a strong identity, make better romantic choices, and avoid heartache.

  • My Ordinary Checklist for a Highly Successful Life

    My Ordinary Checklist for a Highly Successful Life

    “In this world, an ordinary life has become synonymous with a meaningless life.” ~Brené Brown 

    As I see it, there are two types of people out there.

    There are those who read goal attainment books and feel inspired, and me.

    The former will read the anecdotes about all those underdogs who beat the odds and managed to achieve wealth and prestige beyond their wildest dreams and will say to themselves, “Wow! That could be me!” They’ll feel enlightened, invigorated, and revved up to make a change.

    And then there’s me.

    While I may initially pick up such a book with genuine interest, my desire to whip my life into shape will invariably do an about-face, leaving me anything but inspired. If I say anything to myself as I read, it’s more likely to be a string of ego-deflating curses than a yearning-filled “one day that’ll be me.”

    I actually discovered my aversion to success books by accident. Charged by work with the task of developing an online course on the topic of goal attainment, I began to do some research.

    At first, it all seemed dandy. To-do lists? I can get behind those. Articulating a vision for the future? Check, check! But then, as I started to delve a bit more, I began to sink into a mire of confusion amid all the contradictory advice:

    Make to-do lists and then prioritize them by urgency. No, not by urgency, by importance, because that’s the way to a meaningful life. Except that to-do lists are actually now passé, so chuck those altogether. It’s the “less is more” mindset that will breed success.

    Just make sure you’re not spending too much time planning your tasks, because that takes you away from working on them. Although most failed projects could have been saved at the planning stages, so planning is crucial before embarking on any project. You would have known all of this had you properly color-coded your task list in the first place!

    The more I delved, the more aware I became of an undercurrent of shame that was slowly simmering inside of me. It was the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong with me if I was not willing to do whatever it takes, like the underdogs in the books.

    Didn’t I have any faith in the universal laws that turned out Oprahs and J.K. Rowlings and an endless stream of other success stories? Why, it might be as simple as manifesting my destiny with positive thinking, or mindfulness, or a cream cheese bagel for all I knew.

    No dice. Guess I’m just not built for success.

    And yet at some point, maybe just for fun, I began to consider an alternative: What if most of the people I know are more like me than them—you know, busy with life, proud of themselves when they hit “good enough,” happy to have work that is more or less satisfying, even if it’s not tremendously lucrative or glamorous?

    What if others don’t view themselves as a rags-to-riches tale waiting to happen and instead walk around with their heads held high simply because they are proud of the ordinary lives they are living?

    It felt subversive, empowering, and indeed nothing short of revolutionary.

    Success doesn’t have to mean a coastal beach house or getting up to speak in front of a crowded audience where everyone knows just who you are, what you do, and how much you’re worth.

    There is a quieter, softer form of success.

    I began crafting my own definitions and principles of success. Things along the lines of:

    * If you have one person in your life you genuinely care about and who genuinely cares about you, you’re successful.

    * If you have one more positive thought today than you had yesterday, you’re successful.

    * If you have just one thing to be proud of, or be grateful for, or to celebrate, even if it’s just the fact that you didn’t rip anyone’s head off even though you had a miserable day, you’re successful.

    Don’t get me wrong; I’m all for setting and achieving goals. I’m also all for striving to become the next one-in-a-million success story, if that’s what floats your boat. But if it isn’t what floats your boat, that’s no indicator of your personal worth, or lack thereof.

    It’s a sad sign of the times that success is measured in extraordinary terms only. It’s as if the benchmarks of ordinary, mundane success have now been rendered obsolete, or worse: something to feel ashamed of.

    It takes heaping amounts of courage to step back from the grandiose expectations of what success books tell you life could be and say that what you already have is enough. Maybe even more than enough. But in truth it is.

    So, if you, like me, are an “unsuccessful” type, the type that reads about the Oprahs of our world with little more by way of reaction than a “that’s nice,” remember that great potential for success lies in your own backyard.

    Success is what you make of it—even if that means simple, boring, ordinary ole everyday life.

  • Embracing Impermanence: Lessons from Living with a Chronic Illness

    Embracing Impermanence: Lessons from Living with a Chronic Illness

    “Nothing is permanent in this world, not even our troubles.” ~Charlie Chaplin

    At thirteen, I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome. At first, I patiently waited for my doctor to give me medicine. When he didn’t, I patiently waited (for several years) for someone to find the cure.

    As the years went on I wasn’t getting any better. Though I went to more doctors than I could count, none had any new advice for me, and the medical community wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to heal this illness.

    Life was unpredictable. I didn’t know what I’d be able to do each day, let alone in the future. Some days I could lead a relatively normal life, going to class and hanging out with friends—as long as we didn’t do anything too active. Some days I could barely get out of bed to go to the bathroom.

    I had always been ambitious growing up. I loved playing sports, I wanted to be a writer, I wanted to travel the world. As I got into my early twenties, I started questioning if I’d be able to achieve any of these goals when my health was so unpredictable.

    I had managed to finish high school and attend university. But attending classes and trying to write essays with brain fog was a challenge for which my grades would suffer. When I was twenty-one I had a big crash. I couldn’t attend any classes or do any work. I couldn’t do my laundry or cook dinner. All I could do was survive.

    I hadn’t sought help from a doctor in many years; they had been so disappointing when I was younger. But now I knew I needed help. I found a holistic health center where I saw an occupational therapist, a nutritionist, a counselor, and a doctor. It’s also where I got my first taste of yoga and meditation.

    Yoga and meditation helped me embrace the unpredictableness of my health.

    Before beginning my yoga practice, I was searching for assurance. I wanted a doctor to know what to do. I wanted a medication that would make my symptoms go away. I wanted to know that I could get well and stay well. I wanted an assurance that didn’t exist in reality. Waiting for this assurance had held me back from seeking a partial recovery or recovery on my own.

    As my yoga and meditation practice advanced I became better tuned to my body and learned what energized me and what made me feel worse. But the most important concept I learned from my studies was impermanence. Sure, my energetic days didn’t last as long as I hoped. But my fatigued days didn’t last as long as I had feared.

    I began to ride this impermanence like the waves I ride when floating in the sea (which was all I could manage to do when I was very ill, despite swimming competitively when growing up).

    When I first became ill, most of the advice I was given was to “try to push through.”

    Doctors told me to “drink a coca cola at lunch” if I felt tired. They told me that I needed to do everything I could to finish my school assignments and get to classes so I didn’t get left behind. But all of this pushing was exhausting. Like trying to swim against the current, it didn’t serve me to try to do what my body would not allow at the times when I was feeling very ill.

    As anyone with a chronic illness can tell you, good days come with fear. I used to try to do everything I possibly could on the days I was feeling well because I didn’t know when I’d get a chance to catch up on everything I needed to do (including laundry and school papers but also fun things like getting coffee with a friend).

    Every time I got better, I waited to get worse again. Yet I came to realize that I didn’t apply this logic when I was feeling my worst. When I was feeling terrible I wasn’t waiting for it to get better; I was in bed feeling sorry for myself and fearing it would get worse.

    When I began to see the fallacy in this way of thinking, things started changing for me. When I had a bad day, I allowed myself to rest without wallowing. It was frustrating if I had a looming deadline or social event I wanted to go to that I couldn’t meet. But setting those boundaries for myself was invaluable.

    I didn’t need to ‘push through it’ because I’d get another chance. I could take that course again, or reschedule with my friend. This state of being bedridden was not forever. But it was a time for me to rest, to practice meditation or a gentle yoga session. A time for me to read books that brought me joy, a time to search inward for peace, acceptance, and joy.

    Understanding that the only thing that’s permanent is change helped me to accept my illness. It helped me end fatalistic thoughts like “I’ll never be able to achieve my dreams,” which seemed reasonable at the time but weren’t helpful to my recovery, or to achieving those dreams.

    Learning how to ride this impermanence has helped me achieve more than I thought was possible. I was able to graduate university, work full time, travel around the world, and even take part in triathlons!

    When going through a hard time, it’s easy to feel defeated. It’s easy to feel like there’s no hope, and that our lives are irrevocably changed. But by embracing that change, by knowing that our lives will always change and that nothing will last forever, we can better overcome adversity.

    If you’re going through a hard time right now, I encourage you to use this time to listen to your body and what it needs. As you start to do this, you’ll start to notice that things change from day to day. One day you might have a searing pain in your head. The next it may be a dull throb. The next, only a faint whisper of the pain before coming back to a searing pain again.

    Instead of feeling downtrodden that pain has returned, embrace that it has changed. That this state of pain—whether it is emotional or physical—is not a permanent state.

    Embracing impermanence has shifted every area of my life. I’m a freelance writer, which means I don’t have a set salary. Some months can go well and others…not so much. But I don’t get stuck in the bad months because I know it will change again. I still have bad health days, but I know the healthy energetic days far outweigh the bad, and I’m able to take the bad days as they come.

    For those of us who are chronically ill, it’s easy to feel like healthy people feel great every day. They don’t. They have bad days as well. But dwelling on the number of bad days or bad feelings won’t make them go away any faster, just as trying to cram everything you can into a good day won’t make the good day last any longer.

    As you become in tune with the rhythms of your body and better attuned to the way your body changes, you’ll learn how to better nourish yourself. Watch as you move between pain and no pain, fatigue and energy and enjoy the time of much-needed rest as much as those of activity.

    If you’ve also struggled with a chronic illness, it might help to:

    Keep a journal and record how you feel each day. Review this journal at the end of each week so you can see how much change you face even in just a week.

    Start a daily mindfulness practice. This can be yoga and meditation, but it can also be another mindful activity such as walking or taking a hot bath. Anything that helps you tune into your body and mind and assess the rhythms of your thoughts, pain, and energy levels. This will help you keep an accurate journal, and see how things can change even from breath to breath.

    Commit to eliminating fatalistic thinking—thoughts that contain information you could not possibly know. Thoughts like “I’ll always be in pain” or “I’ll never get better” when you have no idea what the future holds are examples of fatalistic thinking.

    Write down those thoughts in a diary and then write the truth next to them. For example, “I’m in pain right now,” or “I don’t feel well today.” None of us can tell the future; don’t let your mind trick you into thinking that it can.

    And lastly, take rest when you need rest, and find a moment of joy in every day.

  • Love More, Judge Less

    Love More, Judge Less

  • Why Creativity Is the Path to Mindfulness, Happiness, and Peace

    Why Creativity Is the Path to Mindfulness, Happiness, and Peace

    “Mindful and creative, a child who has neither a past, nor examples to follow, nor value judgments, simply lives, speaks and plays in freedom.” ~Arnaud Desjardins

    No human being lives without experiencing the duality of life.

    Good and bad. Love and hate. Life and death. Acceptance and rejection. Success and failure. Joy and jealousy. Compassion and judgment.

    So why do we spend so much time trying to pretend that it’s bad to experience all of it, the good, the bad, and the ugly?

    Even our weather men and women tell us it’s a going to be a bad day because it’s raining or snowing. I mean, come on! The earth rejoices when it rains; snow is a natural part of our eco-system.

    Why do we try so hard to suppress the difficult feelings and experiences in our lives? Because our brains are wired that way? Because we were traumatized? Because our parents, teachers, and God knows who else told us to?

    Does it really matter, as we heal, who, where, and why?

    I remember the first time I heard the quote “Thoughts are things.”

    I knew instantly that if that was true, I was in trouble because I had a lot of thoughts I wasn’t proud of and never voiced out loud. I was taught at a very young age not to “rock the boat” or be “too dramatic” and the worst, “Your mom is unhappy because of you kids.” Yikes!

    So, when things got bad at home or at school or at church, they got stuffed. In me. In my heart. In my gut and in my head.

    On the outside I looked fine. Cute, bubbly, artistic, smart. But on the inside I was scared, confused, and anxious, and did not have a clue how to interact comfortably with people.

    I tried really hard (unsuccessfully) to fit in.

    Luckily, I had the outlet of art. I drew, I painted, I sewed, I made batiks—whatever I could get my hands on in the art department at the Catholic High school I went to, or whatever my mom would let me touch at home. She was an amazing seamstress, but, with eight kids, had neither the time nor patience to teach me. Luckily I’m old enough that we had “Home Ed” in high school, so I learned to sew well enough that my mom would let me use her sewing machine.

    Being creative got me through high school and into college with no major consequences. I wasn’t insecure, lonely, or in need of an outlet. I didn’t drink too much, I wasn’t promiscuous, and I didn’t do drugs.

    Fast forward a couple decades and I can tell you that eventually, I did experience the consequences of trying to drink my thoughts and feelings away. 

    I stayed pretty creative as long as I could, but, as life goes, I grew up, got married, had kids, and started to work.

    The turning point was when I lost my family of origin after some dramatic, painful events that I’ve chosen not to discuss publicly. (I learned the hard way that going over and over painful past events is not helpful to my healing.)

    I could not deal with what was going on inside of me.

    I started to drink more and more to squash what I was feeling.

    Within a few years, the addictive gene in me eventually cried out “GOT YA!” and I was lost.

    And this is what led me to the finding peace through being creative again. My crisis. My breakdown.

    An intervention with beautiful, sober women who didn’t know me but wanted to see me find myself again led me to being creative again.

    These women had been learning how to draw and paint from a friend who eventually became my sponsor.

    When I saw what these women had painted, with no artistic experience, it triggered something good inside me—the memory of being creative. (Yes, people, we can have good triggers!)

    “Whatever this is, I’m in!” I said, and I was on my way home. Home to my true self.

    They introduced me to an art form I had never heard of before, mandalas. I had no idea what a “mandala” was. Never heard of it and didn’t care. The mandala teacher had a studio full of every art supply you can imagine and space for many women to create. I was in heaven!

    As I drew and painted my first mandala, my creative mind took over and the crazy thoughts in my head stopped.

    I didn’t realize it then, but being creative again forced me to be what we all strive for when we think of being mindful: calm, serene, awake, and aware. 

    My goal was to have fun and be creative again, but what I got was far more than that.

    I reactivated the divine creative energy we are all born with.

    When I’m engaged in any creative activity, my “monkey mind” settles down. My inner critic has little to say. I’m not regretting the past or fearing the future. I’m in the here and now. I’m centered, relaxed, and rejuvenated.

    I got really curious—what’s was going on?

    Why had engaging in creative endeavors become so significant in my life? Why did it feel like that had been the single most important thing in my healing (after being sober, that is)?

    The Interconnectedness of Creativity and Mindfulness

    So began my research into creativity and mindfulness.

    I discovered that Carl Jung used art therapy with his patients. He encouraged the spontaneous drawing of mandalas. He believed that by just letting his patients draw with no interference, they would heal things in their psyche without even knowing it.

    “Most mandalas have an intuitive, irrational character and, through their symbolical content, exert a retroactive influence on the unconscious. They therefore possess a ‘magical’ significance, like icons, whose possible efficacy was never consciously felt by the patient.” ~Carl Yung

    I stumbled upon a new book about the power of doodling called The Doodle Revolution, by Sunni Brown. In her book, Sunni cites a lot of very famous people who used doodling to help them think better and retain information. She challenges all the parents, teachers, and bosses who say, “Stop doodling! Get serious! Grow up!”

    “There is NO SUCH THING as a mindless doodle,” according to Sunni.

    CNN reports creative activities impact the body in a way similar to meditation. It’s like yoga for your brain.

    This was also about the time that “adult coloring” became a billion-dollar industry. Why are millions of adults coloring, I wondered?

    The more research I did, the more obvious it became.

    Our society is craving sanity. Coloring reminds us all of the days of childhood when it was okay to pick up crayons and zone out for a bit. Having “adult” coloring books has given millions permission to stop, color, and find peace.

    What I personally experienced while being creative was mindfulness; my brain was quiet yet active while painting, collaging, sewing, drawing, coloring, baking, and crafting.

    Being creative somehow taught me the skill, if you will, of paying attention to me, of being mindful.

    As it turns out, when you are being creative, you are using both your creative self and your analytical self, your left and right brain hemispheres at the same time. This not only quiets your mind, it engages it.

    You are creating without angst. It kind of just happens.

    My creative self was reawakened. I was allowing myself to be me, to feel me.

    Having something creative “in the wings” became important, something to look forward to. Downtime became fun instead of something I dreaded.

    This is not say that being mindful instantly became an easy process for all the other times when I was not doing something creative.

    Having gone through some pretty traumatic years, it was “normal” for thoughts of dread, unworthiness, sadness, and shame to rumble through my mind, like the undercurrent of a river, when I was engaged in mundane activities.

    Being alone cleaning, cooking, doing laundry, doing bills, and working was still wrought with angst and despair.

    I began to yearn for that calm, serene mindfulness I felt while being creative at all times in my life. So I engaged in more creative activities and hung out with people who were on the same path of healing. I began to create a new “family” of people who supported and loved me. 

    I found and became active in a spiritual home. I started to naturally attract friends on the same path of becoming more creative, more mindful, more spiritual, more compassionate and successful in all areas of life.

    I read The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle and learned how important it is to notice it all—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

    “Wherever you are, be there totally. If you find your here and now intolerable and it makes you unhappy, you have three options: remove yourself from the situation, change it, or accept it totally. If you want to take responsibility for your life, you must choose one of those three options, and you must choose now. Then accept the consequences.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Wow, it’s okay to have “bad” thoughts. It’s actually normal. It’s hard. And I learned that it’s my responsibility alone how to handle it.

    I’ve subscribed to helpful blogs like TinyBuddha.com and mindful.org.

    I started doing Bikram (hot) yoga.

    Ninety minutes in a hot room doing yoga brought up a lot of difficult memories. But I stayed with it. I stayed in the room even though I was terrible and even though I would sometimes cry during the thirty-second rest periods between poses as I processed memories of hating my body and feeling ashamed and remembered being teased for being fat.

    I began meditating.

    At first I could only meditate with music or a guided meditations for five to ten minutes. I meditated like this sporadically for years.

    Just recently I started meditating in the morning and before bed at the suggestion of my life coach. She suggested two to five minutes, silently, in the lotus position. I said, “I can do at least ten I’m sure.” Much to my surprise, ten minutes was easy so I progressed to fifteen, then twenty, then thirty.

    I am now meditating for thirty minutes, alone, no music, sitting in the lotus position (as best I can) twice a day. This I consider a miracle. Meditating like this has also allowed more memories to gently come up and dissipate. Wow.

    Being mindful is not always an easy road, but it’s a much better path than trying to stuff painful memories, feelings, and thoughts down. 

    It’s much easier than trying to drink them away.

    I know this to be true.

    Being mindful has helped me be comfortable with my thoughts. Okay, that’s not always true—I still sometimes get angry and want them to go away, but I don’t dwell as much, I don’t lash out as much, and I am most definitely a happier, more peaceful person.

    The Process of Being Creative Triggers Memories—Good Ones

    If you activate your divine creative energy, you are activating the positive, shiny aspects of yourself. You remember happier times. You feel accomplished. You’re happy with yourself. You smile more (and people smile back)!

    As you then become more mindful, perhaps through yoga and meditation, the difficult thoughts and feelings are balanced with the positive, creative, and happy aspects of you.

    You take responsibility for your life. It’s fun to be with you.

    You realize that you are the person you’ve been waiting for.

  • Maybe This Is What Happiness Is

    Maybe This Is What Happiness Is

    With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
    Without any doubting or quiddit,
    He started to sing as tackled the thing
    That couldn’t be done and he did it.

    —Edgar Guest

    I’ve always believed in the adage “actions speak louder than words.” I’ve never been one to seek guidance from commercial catch phrases, trending tweets, or song lyrics. But Guest’s poem did make me smile. Whether it was the playfulness of the verse or just the simplicity of the message, it spoke volumes to me.

    Easy, right? Well, maybe for Edgar, but not so much for myself. Laden with insecurities, fear, and self-doubt, I’ve often felt paralyzed to confront obstacles, the largest being happiness and self-worth.

    In the past, when my mom saw me down or struggling, she’d often ask, “Are you happy?” or “What would make you happy?” These were scary questions for me, because I had no answer. I would always just say, “I’m fine” and quickly change the subject.

    To be honest, without looking up the definition I couldn’t tell you for sure what “happy” means. I guess it means something different to each of us. I wanted to be successful at a career and in a relationship. Both were at a dead end.

    I didn’t even know which to tackle first. I was embarrassed to try to date because I wasn’t successful career wise, so I stopped. I didn’t want to end up dating someone and getting my happiness from them, only to be depressed again when the relationship ended, so I knew I had to focus on myself first. Still, that proved challenging.

    I am the king of to-do lists. I singlehandedly support the Post-it industry. I used to approach each day the same: with a list of things to do. I would go to the library straight after work and pursue my list. Then, as I stared at it, fear, anxiety, and confusion would set in.

    My list was filled with tasks to help me fulfill my goals of a career and life I could be happy and proud of. But as day turned to evening, I’d feel a sense of despair as I heard that faithful announcement “ten minutes till close,” since again, I’d gotten nothing accomplished. I would head home and try another feeble attempt at staying up all night to get more done, to no avail.

    This would go on for several days, months, even years. After reading Guest’s poem, I knew my biggest problem was that my goals were not clear. I knew I had the determination and want.

    My search for self-worth led me to win a fitness competition, act on stage, do charity work, run marathons, and even a try out for a professional baseball team. Those accomplishments made me happy for the moment, but when they ended, I was back to feeling depressed, sorry for myself, and mostly, just lost.

    Nothing seemed to bring me the sustained happiness I searched for. That is why I felt safe when I was cast in a show. It gave me a three-month hiatus from being myself. I could entrench myself into something else and avoid the problem: me. Even my insecurity issues would subside a bit during this time. A task or project would redirect my focus from worry and negative thoughts.

    When the task or project ended, my insecurity would come back with a vengeance. Void of something to preoccupy myself with, I would become obsessed with trying to find happiness, success, and self-worth. The problem was that I still could not define what happiness was or what it would feel like. 

    The more downtime I had, the more negative my thoughts became, and the more depressed I felt. It was a vicious cycle. My biggest fear was that I wouldn’t be able to hide my depression from the people around me. I was constantly putting on a joyful, joking persona. You know, tears of a clown and all that.

    Then one particular evening everything changed for me, and not for the better.

    Coming home from a rehearsal, I got into a bad car accident. Luckily no one was hurt physically, but I was damaged emotionally.

    Before the accident I worried about everything except for time. Well, now add that to the list. Hurry up! Hurry up and find and define happiness. I was now in a race with time on top of everything else.

    So often you hear these life threatening moments cause people to step back, smell the roses, and appreciate what they have. For me, the incident made me more reclusive and more worried that I would never find happiness.

    I turned into a glass-three-quarters-empty guy and frequently felt embarrassed because I had to ask friends and family for rides to work and rehearsal. As someone who does not like to rely on other people for help, this was very difficult for me.

    The one trait I do possess, for good or bad, is the ability to compartmentalize things, so I pretended the accident never happened. Big mistake. I never talked about it. Most things I can hide and just sweep away.

    In the days that followed the accident the one solace for me was exercise. In good times and bad, a workout could always lift my spirits and make me feel I could achieve anything. It provided a sense of clarity.

    After several unsatisfying jobs out of college, I took a step back and simplified my cloudy goals. I had a passion for fitness and impacting people. I started thinking about helping people in a health-related capacity. A friend of mine was an athletic trainer, so I volunteered at his office. I enjoyed working with people and hearing their stories.

    More than the workout, they enjoyed having someone to share their stories with. In fact, I could not believe how much they would open up.

    At one point, I thought, “I would never tell a stranger all of my deep secrets.” Then I realized that to them, I wasn’t a stranger. I was someone they entrusted with their self-improvement goals, which is not an easy thing to do. They would say, “I look forward to this hour.” It gave me a feeling of purpose.

    So I got my certification, walked into a health club, and became a personal trainer. Acting on what I’d learned from my own personal experience, I made a promise to myself that I would always tell my clients to set goals for themselves, not for the approval of others. Start by accepting, liking, and not being too hard on yourself.

    My life has always been filled with judgment. An audition, a competition, a tryout. Waiting for someone to tell me I was good enough, then dealing with hearing sometimes “You’re not.” That was tough to deal with. I’m still in a struggle every day teaching my clients how to be happy with themselves, while at the same time learning to be happy with myself.

    Since I’m the king of lists, I made one more, which I refer to every day. These are the reminders that help me in my daily life. I hope they’ll help you too.

    Problem: I felt overwhelmed because I had too many confusing goals.
    Solution: Pick one simple goal each day, no matter how small, and focus on that.

    Problem: I felt bad because I focused on what I hated about myself and how happy and successful other people were, while I struggled to find direction.
    Solution: Focus on something I like about myself every day.

    Problem: I was sedentary. Inactivity breeds depression.
    Solution: Move! Being active relieves stress, boosts your mood, increases your energy, and provides clarity and positive energy.

    Problem: I felt alone because I never asked for help.
    Solution: Ask! People care.

    Problem: I withdrew from family and friends because I wanted to hide my problems.
    Solution: Open up, even if it feels hard. Talking is great medicine.

    It’s still a battle every day for me. I still go through bouts of anxiety, self-doubt, and insecurity, but each day it does get better. It’s helped that I’ve learned to appreciate my family and friends and be more open with them.

    Maybe that’s what happiness is—making a little progress every day, spending time with people you value and trust, and finding the courage to be honest with them. At least, that’s what it is for me. Everybody (and every body) is different.

  • Life Is Better When We Focus on What We Appreciate, Not What’s Lacking

    Life Is Better When We Focus on What We Appreciate, Not What’s Lacking

    “Wisdom is merely the movement from fighting life to embracing it.” ~Rasheed Ogunlaru

    Recently a friend told me a story about taking her seven-year-old to the circus. It was a wonderful mother-daughter outing. Just the two of them, no pesky brothers or dad tagging along and getting in the way.

    They had the best time. They watched acrobats and clowns and all manner of brand new delights, gasping at one another gleefully at every new feat. They bathed in each other’s company without interruption, laughing and having fun. Literally all the things.

    After this magical afternoon, as the two of them were leaving, my friend’s daughter spied the merchandise stand and wanted her mum to buy her a plastic fairy wand. My friend gently but firmly said no.

    In the car on the way home, her daughter was quiet.

    “What did you like the most? What was your favorite thing today?” my friend asked her.

    She was sulking. “I’m just thinking about the wand I didn’t get.”

    I’m just thinking about the wand I didn’t get.

    How many of us fixate on the wands we didn’t get, even amidst the most wonderful experiences?

    How often do we home in on the one negative comment, or the thing that isn’t right instead of what is positive or right?

    How can we just see what is rather than disproportionately focusing on what isn’t?

    For myself, the wands I didn’t get loom most darkly now that we are in the age of the Internet. As much as I am a huge advocate for the awesomeness of online life, something that sucks me into a vortex of wishing for what ‘isn’t’ are reviews.

    I read reviews like others might read a newspaper. Cover to cover, looking for bias or bad writing or things I might not like, as well as things I’m sure I will. Inevitably this can lead to disappointment when I finally get to experience the actual thing I’ve been reading about for months.

    I turn up to a new café or a guesthouse and find myself honing in on what isn’t:

    “It said in the review that there was a 180 degree view, but this is only front-on.”

    “It said in the review they had lots of vegetarian dishes, but I can only see three and they don’t look that great to me.”

    “This house manager is frowning at me. The review said they were like family by the end of trip. How is that possible with this grump?”

    When my friend shared this anecdote about her daughter and the wand she didn’t get, it was very timely.

    A much-needed slap in the face, really.

    Here’s what I began thinking about:

    Which practices drag me into a space of entitlement and loaded expectations, and which practices make available a stronger sense of appreciation for what Is rather than what Isn’t?

    One thing is to be less obsessed with reviews, obviously.

    Another is to really spend some time reflecting on how I experienced life before the Internet. How I traveled, what behaviors, what choices opened up a sense of wonder about the every day world?

    In the last few months of digital nomad life, I’ve been much more inclined to just show up and try stuff out rather than worrying about what lots of folks thought.

    Here are my rules:

    1. A brief skim of a review is handy, but it’s time-limited. I now spend only a few minutes checking others’ thoughts, and look for basic practical things that are important.
    2. Get there and see. Make eye contact. Look Up. Be.
    3. Slow down and take my time so I am able to fully appreciate what’s in front of me. What’s the rush?
    4. Trust my gut. Give it a go.
    5. Talk to people in person, ask for recommendations.
    6. Be okay with imperfection. Enjoy what is good about what is happening.

    You know what?

    It’s working.

    I discovered a wild beach, and while it was unswimmable (which would normally drive me crazy), it was pretty much deserted and the waves were mesmerising, provoking an infinite number of thoughts.

    I also talked with a woman walking her dog there and found out about another beach closer to our new home. I then learned that even though the Indian restaurant doesn’t deliver at 3am she can get a box made up to pick up for her night shift (which might come in handy one day in a town where occasionally everything shuts by 8pm).

    I unwittingly drank the best coffee of my life.

    I lay in the still and stifling heat of the night in a tent, initially angry that I hadn’t known how hot it was going to be. But then I reminded myself there was nothing to be done but just accept it, lie very still, and I actually fell asleep, awaking refreshed and excited about the day ahead.

    I jumped on buses after asking locals which ones, and they were always right, even though there were a few scary “where the hell are we?” moments.

    After receiving a difficult email, I stopped. I listened to music and physically felt myself calm down (as well as rediscovered a few albums) instead of freaking out, scanning social media, and increasing my anxiety.

    I’m finding myself naming the things I like first:

    This room has great airflow.

    There are fascinating trees on the headland.

    Dogs are allowed in (!)

    The music is fantastic.

    The people crowding in the pool are smiling a lot and having fun, which is making me smile.

    These flowers are beautiful.

    The mist (obscuring the view) is mysterious and atmospheric.

    I’m learning something weirdly interesting from the radio interview I’m listening to instead of a podcast after my device died.

    That part of the meal was lush.

    I can hear birdcalls piercing through the heavy rain.

    Now that I’m making a habit of focusing on the good around me, I’m finding that I’m more apt to put good into the world, for example, by:

    Showing up alone at a community event.

    Sending a friend with a broken leg a card in the post.

    Taking extra time to offer quality information and support to people in need.

    Holding back a knee-jerk reaction and choosing a wiser response in a stressful situation.

    The wands I didn’t get are, slowly, fading from memory as I replace them with what I did get—with what is—and here’s what I’m learning: Acceptance and contentment are bringing me more joy and also strengthening a sense of bravery and connection while on this adventure of rediscovering daily life.

    You know what else?

    That wand would have been the highlight of my day… for all of five minutes. Then I’d be back to feeling bad and annoyed about the ice cream I didn’t get, the criticism I received over the praise, and the rain that came after the sun (and appeared to last so much longer).

    Wands we didn’t get only add up to seeking more wands, and then more, and then more, until our whole lives are made up of resentment for what we don’t have.

    We end up living life constantly seeking external pleasures and validations.

    Most of us really do have a lot. And while it’s great to acknowledge sadness and disappointment (especially when it’s more than warranted), and to speak up when something really is wrong, it’s equally important to get on board with what is.

    To know when it’s just a plastic wand and nothing more.

    And then get on with the business of appreciating that amazing day at the circus.

    Coz you just never know when you’ll be here again.

  • It’s Okay to ‘Fail’ on Your Way to Finding What You Want to Do

    It’s Okay to ‘Fail’ on Your Way to Finding What You Want to Do

    “Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” ~George Bernard Shaw

    I would say it’s a safe assumption that most people aren’t quite sure what they’re doing.

    What do I mean? I mean that most individuals—whether they look polished and presentable or haphazardly have their life thrown together—are generally playing a game called “life.” And they’re trying the best they can.

    In other words, we’re all capable and have all experienced the highs and lows of what life has to offer. Unfortunately, that’s just part of the human experience. To try to ride the highs while avoiding the lows is counterproductive and, quite frankly, impossible.

    But it’s also easy to feel like you’re falling down a dark rabbit hole when times are tougher. And one of those feelings revolves around our desire to make an impact on this world, finding what really drives us.

    Great! Now, where to start?

    And that’s the problem. Most of us, including myself, have fallen victim to not knowing what to do with our lives, both professionally and even personally.

    And I offer you this: that is perfectly okay. And it is perfectly okay to fail on your way to finding out what to do with your life.

    Failing Whether You Want To or Not

    Life isn’t about an end goal or a destination. Life is about enjoying the ride and trying different things. Things you will succeed at and things you won’t succeed at.

    I personally have failed at many things in my life in its two most common forms: action and inaction.

    One of my biggest “failures” of inaction was sticking with a career that I didn’t enjoy on any level for far too long. It got so bad, I would begin to dread Saturdays because I knew the next day was Sunday, which meant the day before the workweek began. And when that week started, I counted the days down until the weekend.

    And the cycle would repeat. Yet I kept this uncomfortable routine for years, lying to myself and saying that it was okay because I had a stable job, a good income, and it could be worse.

    I was too scared to take a step or make a move. And years flew by before I realized it was time to take one.

    I also didn’t move when I had the opportunity to. I didn’t take a trip because it might have required a bit more financing than I thought. I didn’t volunteer because life got busy and I shelved the idea.

    The lack of moving forward, or taking a step, results in a failed effort to grow as a person. We begin to regret that we didn’t do X, Y, or Z. And unfortunately, living with regret is the fastest way to bury yourself into a hole.

    But failure can also occur as you go about sticking your neck out and trying different things.

    And unfortunately, this is the one that scares most people. Why? Because there is nothing worse than actually taking a leap of faith, only to have it blow up in our face. We may learn valuable life lessons from it, yet it doesn’t exactly help our arch-nemesis, the ego.

    But as Wayne Gretzky once said: “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

    So if the last relationship you got into didn’t work out, it’ll be okay. If the job you switched to didn’t turn out in your favor, not a problem. And if telling someone your true feelings got you on the wrong side of the equation, so be it.

    Now you know. And you never would have known if you didn’t take that step. Rest easy knowing that you made the effort.

    Life and Newton’s First Law of Motion

    I remember at very specific points telling myself that sooner than later I’d figure out what I wanted to do with my life, but I needed to keep my job in the meantime.

    Life doesn’t work like that.

    I used to think that a lightning bolt from Zeus himself would come down and strike me, in the form of some epiphany wrapped in a layer of motivation. This “lightning bolt,” some kind of chance meeting with someone or witnessing something, would basically give me all the info I needed to pursue the things in life that were meant for me.

    I was convinced it was that simple.

    As you can imagine, that lightning bolt never hit, and I felt stuck. And it was equally hard to imagine a different life besides the one I was living: going to work, watching TV, and going out on the weekends with friends.

    This life I was living had done me fairly well up to this point, but I knew something was missing. What that piece (or pieces) were, I didn’t know. But all of us, at some point, feel that sort of “empty” void when we know something is absent.

    After awhile, I began to take steps to try different things that struck my fancy. Things like writing, taking an art class, volunteering, reading, researching different industries and careers, and many more. If it stuck out to me, I was willing to give it a shot.

    And here you have executed on Newton’s First Law of Motion: An object either remains at rest or continues to move at a constant velocity, unless acted upon by an external force.  

    In simpler terms, an object in motion tends to stay in motion, and an object at rest tends to stay at rest.

    Looking back, all of the small things I tried were baby steps, but very important ones. It was these tiny little movements, so to speak, that enabled me to start moving in a direction that gave me greater joy and led to more fulfillment.

    I started writing for a local magazine, free of charge, in an effort to practice my writing. I made it a point to read at least one book every two weeks, and ended with over thirty-four by year-end. I went back to school and completely changed careers.

    And, as you can imagine, life got much better. But it didn’t go completely smoothly. I had some wrong turns in there, including taking a bad job and entering a bad relationship.

    I did all these things in an effort to find my true calling, the one or two things that completely light me up and I would do for free without hesitation. Have I found it yet? I can’t say I have.

    And yet somehow, I’m a little more at ease knowing that while I may not know what I want to do with my life, I’m trying things that will help me eventually find it.

    I can also tell you that I’ve failed multiple times through taking action and I’ve failed multiple times by doing nothing.

    It’s through these failures, though, that I’ve learned to hone in on the things that worked. And through honing in on the things that worked, I’ve been able to focus my attention in areas that interest me and have given me the greatest return.

    You Have An Amazing Ride If You Want It

    If I were to tell you with 110% certainty and conviction that life has an amazing ride in store for you if you were to take baby steps toward finding yourself, would you do it? If I were to then tell you that no matter what steps you take, you will ultimately fail at some point, would you still do it?

    It should give you comfort to know that the steps you take won’t be perfect by any means. And knowing they’re not perfect should take the pressure off on trying to create immaculate scenarios every single time.

    I know one thing: I’m much closer to finding my life’s purpose than I was before. And it’s because I’ve taken steps to try different things and see what sticks and what doesn’t.

    Ultimately, there are many steps in life ahead of you that will be the right choice, and a few that will be the wrong choice. But either way, you’re winning by taking action.

  • We Can’t Do Everything, But We Can Do More Than We Think

    We Can’t Do Everything, But We Can Do More Than We Think

    “There are plenty of obstacles in your path. Don’t allow yourself to become one of them.” ~Ralph Marston

    I was sitting in a self-improvement course listening to the facilitator’s instructions. “I want you to come up with a Big, Hairy, Audacious Goal,” she announced. “This needs to be a stretch, something where you really put skin in the game. You have seven weeks to reach this goal.”

    The rest of her instructions trailed off as I thought about which area of my life I wanted to improve. I overheard a few of my classmates talking to each other about their lofty physical goals. My body contracted when I heard them talking. I shrunk into my shame.

    I couldn’t even run a 5k, I thought. I had lost my leg in a car accident thirty years previous and while there were many things I could do, running was not one of them. These days just walking was hard.

    During our break, I found a place to be alone and take counsel with myself. I felt myself resisting the obvious goal. I sat down and shut my eyes. Can I do it? Can I walk a mile?

    As I sat there, I thought about the first time I went backpacking after I lost my leg and how proud I was. I thought of the other physical adventures I’d had in my twenties: skiing, rock climbing, scuba diving, and skydiving.

    But those experiences were so long ago. Not only had two pregnancies and aging changed my body, but I had just spent the past two years getting a new prosthetic leg made. Since I wasn’t able to walk much during the two-year fitting process, I had lost a lot of muscle and stamina; walking had become painful and difficult. I had walked out of my prosthetist’s office on my new state-of the-art leg just a month ago. Yes, I thought, it is time to regain my walking feet.

    Back at the conference room, we each stood up in front of the group and pronounced our goal. They say, “When we compare we fall into despair” and that was certainly true for me when I heard other people declare their goals; I fell further and further into self-judgment.

    Listen to her, she’s going to run a half-marathon. You’re just going to walk a mile. Big deal. You’re such a loser.  

    But a wiser voice inside of me spoke up, Wait a second. She has two legs; you only have one. Just focus on where you are right now.

    When it was time for me to declare my goal, I went to the front of the room, took a deep breath, and said, “I am going to walk every day. I’ll start by walking down the street. Every day I’ll walk a little farther. My goal is to walk one mile.” I felt both excited and scared.

    The next day I took my first walk. I walked down the block and back again. A burning ache filled my stump, forcing me stop and rest halfway through. The next day I walked two blocks and back.

    Buoyed by my small success, I walked all the way around the block on the third day. The constrictive pain in my stump was intense and deep. With each consecutive walk, I learned how to deal with the pain, either by stopping to rest or by relaxing into it.

    By the end of the third week I had achieved my goal: I had walked one mile! I continued to walk a mile a day for the rest of the course. At the end of the sixth week, I took a hike in the woods—four miles round trip. I was overjoyed, not only to walk so far, but to be back in the woods on a dirt path amidst the evergreen trees and the dappled sun.

    After the course was finished, I wanted to keep walking but I knew I needed incentive and accountability. I also wanted my walking to mean something.

    I found an organization that helps amputees in developing countries have access to prosthetic legs. That was it. I pitched my idea—a walking campaign to walk 100 miles in 100 days for 100 legs—and they loved it! A few weeks later I started my walking campaign. I walked a mile a day for one hundred days and raised $14,000, almost half of my goal.

    After all these years of being an amputee, I still struggle with many of the same issues two-legged folks struggle with: motivation, attitude, gumption. When I remember to adopt these four attitudes and, believe me, I don’t always remember, then I find my life is much happier.

    First, I’m curious about my inner dialogue.

    Am I critical and judgmental, or am I my own best cheerleader? I’ve learned to chat with both my Inner Gremlin and my Inner Guide. They both have something to teach me. My Inner Gremlin talks first and then my Inner Guide chimes in. They sound something like this: 

    Inner Gremlin: It takes you twice as long as normal people to hike up this trail. You’re such a loser. You should just give up and go home. Who wants to hike with you when you’re so slow?  

    Inner Guide: Just because you’re slow doesn’t make you a loser. You are actually quite persistent and tenacious. Good for you!

    Until I met my Inner Guide I can say, unequivocally, that my negative self-talk, my Inner Gremlin, was a far bigger limitation for me than my amputation.

    Second, I focus on what I can do instead of what I can’t do.

    When I was in college I had a lot of friends who excelled at physical activities. I had one friend who canoed the Arctic every other summer, another who was a white water rafting guide. Other friends climbed local mountains just for fun on the weekends. When I looked to them as mirrors for what I could be they were both inspiring and I felt defeated before I began.

    No, I couldn’t heli-ski in fresh powder, but I did learn to ski on one leg. I couldn’t scale a mountain, but I discovered that I could backpack five miles.

    I had to determine what I wanted from these experiences and then find ways to get that. I had to discover what value I received from these activities and find new, altered, or accommodated ways to get that value. If I can’t climb a mountain, how can I find adventure in another way?

    Honoring my limitations taught me how to find the value in my activities.

    Third, I try to be honest with myself.

    When I was in my mid-twenties, I met a fifty-year-old amputee who had crutched to the top of Mt. Rainier. When I asked him how he did it, his recipe included a healthy dollop of weight lifting, a big cup of practice (which meant crutching around local parks with as many hills as possible), and a huge amount of grit.

    I tried crutching around my neighborhood for a week and discovered something. For as badly as I wanted to be at the top of Mt. Rainier, for as much as I wanted to say I had climbed Mt. Rainier, I didn’t want to train to climb Mt. Rainier. I had to stare that reality in the face for what it was.

    My limitation had nothing to do with my disability and everything to do with my mind. I didn’t want to put the time, energy and sweat into a training program that would get me to the top of the mountain. Once I saw this for what it was: a lack of desire for the whole package, I was okay with not climbing Mt. Rainier.

    That doesn’t make me a loser. It makes me a woman who doesn’t like to sweat.

    Fourth, I embrace the paradox.

    I can accept and accommodate my limitations and still have moments of anger or sadness about them. I can feel motivated and be frustrated that it takes me so much effort to walk. We deny ourselves true access to our hearts when we deny our feelings.

    It’s okay to feel frustrated, angry, or sad, but there’s always that extra step that leads us to the path of acceptance: choice. I have learned how to give my frustration, sadness, or anger a little time and then I move on.

    We all have limitations. Even a rocket scientist probably isn’t going to make the best kindergarten teacher. Someone who’s tone-deaf will never be an opera singer. Whether our limitations are inflicted upon us from the outside or come from within, they force us to discover and embrace our strengths.

  • Freeing Yourself from Problems and Habits by Seeing That You’re Already Free

    Freeing Yourself from Problems and Habits by Seeing That You’re Already Free

    “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or possessions—we cannot be free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Imagine there is a river running through you.

    Your entire experience of life flows through you, down that river. Everything you think, feel, and do passes through, powered by the current of the river.

    Your emotions, your opinions, your sense of identity … your habits, diagnoses, and choices … they aren’t still or solid, sitting somewhere. They are brought to life, felt, and then they drift away. They are in constant motion, naturally replaced with a revolving stream of new experience.

    You aren’t responsible for what flows down the river.

    The particular thoughts and feelings that show up aren’t yours. You didn’t put them there and, in most cases, you didn’t choose them. They are simply part of the flow of life.

    Your thoughts and feelings don’t come from the world outside the river; they can’t. What flows down the river is born of the river. What that means, in human terms (since this is a metaphor for how human life works, after all) is that what you feel originates within you. Life out there—your relationships, job, body, health, or any circumstance at all—cannot create or dictate your experience. Your experience begins and ends within you.

    You (what you call me) are not the contents of the river. You are what remains when all has passed through. The contents of the river are in perpetual flux. You are what never changes.

    It’s an incredible design! Can you get a feel for who you are? For the fleeting and safe nature of your experience?

    You are awareness of life itself. The things you witness don’t stick. This means there is nothing to avoid, fear, change, or chase away. The current takes care of that for you, endlessly updating your experience in each and every moment.

    If this is an accurate metaphor for human life, why do we feel so stuck at times? Why does our experience look so repetitive, and why do our issues appear to linger and weigh us down?

    It’s simple: we misunderstand the design.

    No one told you life worked this way, so you identify with and latch onto what flows down the river. You say things like I had this thought. I don’t like this feeling. I should be different. I can’t believe I did/said/thought/felt that.

    It’s happening within you, after all.

    You, like all people, miss the fact that your experience isn’t you. It isn’t serious. It’s life taking temporary form, expressing itself through you. Then flowing downstream making way for new and different temporary expressions.

    Your well-being and your essential nature are ultimately unaffected by what washes over you. But when you don’t realize that, you innocently get in the way of the natural flow. We all do.

    When what’s flowing through you looks personal and stable, of course you try to fix or change it. You jump in the river that is flowing and recycling perfectly on its own. You stand in the flow with your bucket, scooping up water that was trying to flow downstream. You carry that bucket around, showing everyone proof of your problems.

    “See!” you say. “It’s right here in my bucket!” You replay what you did yesterday and fixate on fears and worries about what will happen tomorrow. When it looks like life out there can hurt us, or like what flows through us can hurt us, we’re filled with anxiety about what might show up next. Then we wonder why change feels so hard.

    “There must be a problem with me,” we conclude. We’re broken. There is a problem in our design. 

    But make no mistake—you and the design of life are perfect. The only problem is your innocent misunderstanding of the source of your experience. The innocent misunderstanding (shared with virtually everyone on earth) of how the river operates.

    Seeing through these misunderstandings changes everything. When people catch a glimpse of the resilient, health-affirming design of life, they uncover the wellbeing that has always been there.

    It no longer makes sense to say that you “have” a habit, trait, or issue. You experience thoughts, feelings, and behaviors but they don’t have to linger or leave a mark. They aren’t personal.

    When I was caught up in bulimia several years ago, binging and purging, I was furiously treading water in that river. ‘Furiously’ because that looked like the only way to survive.

    Everything looked important, personal, and meaningful. What I ate, when I ate, how life appeared within and around me.

    I was trying to keep from drowning in my own anxieties and destructive habits. Flailing about, trying to force change in my thoughts, feelings, and behaviors was all I knew to do.

    I didn’t realize that life as I knew it was being created within me, moment to moment. Life wasn’t happening to me. I wasn’t feeling the effects of my past or my weight or some mental flaw I possessed.

    I didn’t realize it was possible to watch the river from its banks. That my experience didn’t brand me with diagnoses and labels that meant something deep or stable about me.

    Labels and diagnoses describe some of the thoughts and behaviors we experience at a particular point in time, from particular states of mind. They describe the contents of any given bucket of water taken from the river.

    “This one is murky.” “This one is clear.” Those are labels that describe the water in a bucket in one given moment. They don’t describe water, or the river, as a whole. They are a snapshot.

    “Obsessed about food today,” “Felt peaceful and wise,” “Felt scared and hopeless.”  Those are natural, impersonal, human snapshots of experience that we innocently take way too seriously. We label ourselves with what’s moving through us, but if it’s moving through, how much sense do those labels really make?

    Fresh, new water is always coming. We simply need to look upstream rather than downstream to see that there is nothing to fix.

    As I explored this river and how human experience really works, I noticed one day that life felt lighter. I was no longer carrying buckets around.

    I became naturally less tangled in the flow of life. The past—whether it’s five years or five seconds ago—does not exist. It’s amazing how much easier life flows when you aren’t taking stock of the past or preparing for the future. When you aren’t trying to control or change what shows up.

    There is enormous hope for everyone—our incredible design ensures it. Anything that burdens you can wash away to reveal the health and well-being that is within you right now.

    **While many are able to heal solely through understanding their design, for others, this may only be part of the process, and they may benefit from other forms of professional help. All healing journeys are unique. What’s important is that you find and do what’s best for you.

  • How I Transformed My Anxiety and What to Do If You Feel Emotionally Stuck

    How I Transformed My Anxiety and What to Do If You Feel Emotionally Stuck

    “There is still vitality under the snow, even though to the casual eye it seems to be dead.” ~Agnes Sligh Turnbull

    For as long as I can recall, I have always been a fretful and anxious person. Mine was a low-key anxiety that’s always colored the background of my life, a constant companion of ambiguous dread and imminent doom (just around the corner!)

    The annoying part was that I never quite knew why the anxiety hung around. There weren’t any real situations in my life that evoked this constant, nagging fear.

    I have tried various techniques to manage my anxiety. I tried deep breathing. I tried to balance out the fearful thoughts that sometimes follow the feeling of fear with logical investigation of the facts.

    I tried self-hypnosis—imagining a safe place in the depths of my psyche protected by multiple layers of force fields. I tried going toward the fear instead of running from it by putting myself in fear-inducing situations, so I could learn to tolerate it better. I tried self-psycho-analysis.

    All these produced various small results, but always, always there was something missing. I somehow felt like I did not go all the way to the bottom of my anxiety. 

    Then I picked up mindfulness, in those days before it became so well known. I learned on my own and in various courses, to make space for my anxiety.

    Above all, I discovered that my anxiety wasn’t me. That was an important piece of the puzzle. And yet, there was still a lot of the puzzle missing. My gut feeling was telling me, there’s got to be more.

    And then I came upon a book on Focusing. This is a method discovered by the late psychologist-philosopher Eugene Gendlin. He discovered that people who engaged in a specific kind of internal exploration of their experiences often came away feeling that their emotional struggles have transformed, quite literally.

    They no longer felt the same way before they started the internal exploration process. Even though the situation that had caused them to feel that way remained unchanged, how they understood it and felt about it had become radically different.

    I was entranced, so I read everything I could about this method. I tried it out on myself…

    And fell flat on my face. It didn’t work and I was still anxious. Only now, I was even more anxious because it was tinged with a near panicky sense that what I needed was just within my reach but I could not grasp it! I pictured my anxiety flashing the victory sign in my mind.

    Then thankfully, I took a course with a Focusing teacher in the United Kingdom and I got it.

    My anxiety started to shift.

    How I Understand It: Vital Emotions and Blocks

    We are all born with naturally flowing emotions that guide us and give us information about our lives, our worlds, and our needs. I call these “vital emotions.” No matter what form they take (joy, anger, grief, gratitude, and so forth), the experience of them moving within and through us unfettered makes us feel alive.

    Just look at babies. They are always experiencing naturally flowing emotions and they are little bundles of vitality. When they are angry, they scream without concern. When happy, their mirth is disinhibited.

    However, as we grow up, we learn to cut off these emotions. For instance, some people become overly rational at the expense of feeling emotions, like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory. Alternatively, some of us fall into stuck emotional patterns that repeat over and over again without getting us anywhere but into trouble (my anxiety is one example).

    I call cutting off emotions or stuck emotions “blocks.” We tend to pick them up as we bump along in life. Focusing is a method to help us free up our blocks and get in touch with our vital emotions.

    What I Learned About My Emotions

    I learned in Focusing to take on a curious and self-compassionate approach to my emotions. I also learned to drop my awareness down into body to experience the sensations of my emotions in real time, and use these sensations to guide my discovery of the layers of information contained within my emotions.

    From there, I learned to decode what my emotions are telling me that I needed at that point in time. When I accessed this new understanding, I started to feel my anxiety transform.

    When I focused on my anxiety block in an open-minded and compassionate manner, I discovered that it felt like a kind of jittery electricity coursing through my body, and occasionally thickening into a lump in my chest.

    Fascinatingly, I also found that I had a tendency to hold back in my actions, my breathing, and even my voice (I had trouble projecting my voice). It was like I had put the brakes on inside myself.

    Through gentle and persistent questioning around these bodily responses, I discovered that I picked up my anxiety block because the adults in my life had subtly and not so subtly put me down when I tried to express my vital emotions.

    I remembered being shamed for showing my vital emotions like anger or even dizzy joy. Then I was told I was too sensitive when I was feeling vulnerable and upset. My anxiety was telling me that I could not let my guard down. I could not afford to be myself fully.

    At this point, my anxiety had started to shift physically and it was replaced by another emotion—sadness. Sadness that I wasn’t allowed to be myself.

    As I paid the same gentle attention to how my body held this sadness, it shifted once more and transformed into anger. I was angry that people could do this to me, no matter how well meaning their intentions. How dare they! How could they?

    With that line of thought, I knew that I wasn’t going to let people discount my emotions again! I felt physically stronger with this new determination. I had moved pass my anxious block and touched the procession of my vital emotions hiding by it. And then, I realized that my anxiety was trying to protect me from the devastating forces of shame and ridicule. I needed to feel safe in an unsafe environment.

    They only way I knew how was to block off my vital emotions least showing them got me into trouble. This realization gave rise to a warm feeling of self-compassion—I was doing the best I could to protect myself and my anxiety was my warning system.

    A Realistic Transformative Method

    Needless to say, I fell in love with focusing and undertook more training in it. I have found my method of transforming my life-long anxiety. Do I still struggle with it? Of course, but now it feels different. It no longer is a pervasive unknown fear. It has shrunk and only occasionally pops up. And when it does, I know how to engage with it to transform it.

    Try This Out

    The next time you feel emotionally stuck or have an inexplicable emotional reaction, take a moment to pause and focus on how it feels in your body as a sensation. Notice where in your body you feel it the strongest.

    A good place to start noticing is the space within your throat, chest, and belly. Simply spend a minute or two trying to describe the raw sensation of the emotional reaction, in real time—“Right now, how does it feel?” You might notice that the sensation changing. If it does, simple stay on top of it by describing the new sensation.

    Simply tuning in this way helps you create a unique and open-minded relationship to your emotions. It is also one of the crucial steps in focusing. See if you could make this into a daily habit. Remember, emotions transform when we try to understand them in an open-minded way.

  • Take Back Your Power: Let Go of Blame and Focus on the Lesson

    Take Back Your Power: Let Go of Blame and Focus on the Lesson

    “When you blame others, you give up your power to change.” ~Robert Anthony

    Blame is seductive because it makes us right and them wrong. For a moment, it feels good to say, “It was their fault,” but in the long run holding on to blame only hurts us and does absolutely nothing to help our evolution. In fact, it keeps us stuck.

    But, I get it. When we feel wronged, upset, and angry, that person is the only one to blame.

    I understand that some things are so egregious and so unforgivable that it seems impossible to not default to blame. It’s almost instinctual. We are hard wired to blame.

    But I have come to learn the hard way that when we blame others, we avoid seeing the truth about ourselves. When we focus on what someone else did wrong, we’re not able to see our part and learn about what we need to do differently going forward.

    A while ago, I was in a toxic relationship that brought out the worst in me.

    I felt like I was the most incompetent and unlovable human being on this planet. My self-esteem was nonexistent. I gave far too much of myself in the name of love, without ever checking in with my heart or my body to feel whether this journey was serving me.

    Ultimately, as I abandoned myself, the relationship abandoned me: She cheated on me. After giving endlessly to this relationship, that was my payback. And just to add a cherry on top, she stole from me.

    I didn’t recognize myself. I was stripped of many things. I lost my ability to trust myself and others. I lost the ideals I’d once had about love. I lost respect for myself. I ignored my intuition. I forgot to honor the sacredness and preciousness of my heart. I lost my confidence. I lost my innocence. For a minute, I thought I had lost my soul. I felt completely empty.

    I remember that the blame, the anger, and the frustration were blinding. Every word I spoke and every thought that crossed my mind had one theme: I was the victim and she was wrong. I would happily share my story endlessly, and I made myself right every single time—and boy did it feel good to badmouth her over and over again.

    But when the dust settled a bit and I was able to step back from my anger-filled stupor, I realized that I was tired of this story. I was done with it. I was ready to do some healing because the burden of carrying blame and anger was weighing me down. It was heavy.

    What had happened no longer mattered; my desire to heal was greater than my desire to hold on to this story.

    With my journal in hand, some lavender in the air, and tears streaming down my face, I took three deep breaths, summoned the energy of blame, and for the first time I asked myself: “How did I contribute to this? What do I need to learn from this?” I then said, “Universe, I am ready to release this story. Show me the way.”

    My mind was screaming, “What! How dare you ask this question?” But my heart was proud of this because it was a moment of deep truth.

    This was a teachable moment for me. I stayed with the feeling as I closed my eyes and allowed the anger to consume me. And in that tornado of anger inside of me, I finally received insight.

    Once the storm inside me passed, I realized that I had never once spoke my truth in that relationship. I ignored every single red flag from the beginning. I had this notion that I could save people from themselves. I was arrogant in thinking that my love would heal anyone. I wanted to fix the world. I wanted to fix her. I abandoned myself.

    Then I asked, “But how can life do this to me when I was so giving, so genuine, and so authentic with my love?” The insight that came from that question was, “That’s not love, that’s self-abuse. It is not your job to save anyone.”

    And the lessons kept pouring in: From a spiritual perspective, and on a soul level, I know that it is beautiful to love everyone, but in this physical plane, we must pay attention to how people are showing up for us.

    We can’t ignore mistreatment or unhealthy behaviors in the name of love. We can love from afar, we can love from the other end of the world, but that doesn’t mean that we need to stay in a relationship with anyone who is on a very different path or with someone who is clearly living a highly toxic life.

    This blame that I was carrying came back to me tenfold. I was really just angry with myself for allowing something outside of me to have so much power over me, and for allowing something outside of me to override my own intuition and feelings.

    These realizations laid a foundation for my healing. From that moment, I became more conscious in my interactions. My boundaries strengthened and my relationship with myself began to flourish.

    I still had, and will forever have, a lot of work to do, but the minute I was willing to release blame I recharged my energy and took back my power. I realized that I do not want to be the passive observer in my life. I want to be as conscious as possible.

    In this moment of truth, I also learned that self-love is realizing that our bodies and our health are sacred, and holding on to blame destroys us on a physical, spiritual, and emotional level.

    The biggest epiphany I had is that we all came here to learn lessons, and some of the lessons will seem unfair, and occasionally way worse than what I share here. But I learned to surrender to this belief—the belief that my soul came here to learn lessons and that, if I can become the happy and willing student, there is so much wisdom to be gained from these moments of darkness.

    After feeling anger and blame for a while, most of us, myself included, just want to find some way to escape the pain, but if we simply ignore our feelings, we also shut down the message.

    I understand that this is one of the hardest things we as humans can do, but I promise you that there are treasures inside of you waiting to be uncovered during each moment of darkness.

    I realize that every instance of hurt warrants a different degree of blame, and the anger will vary. Some lessons will undoubtedly be much harder than others. But in the end, if we’re willing to surrender to these lessons and love ourselves through the most painful abuse and injustice, we will rise as warriors.

    We will rise as light workers. We will rise as healers. We will be the light in someone’s dark world. We will gain insight. We will have a chance to do it over in a different way.

    It’s time to take your power back. Begin today, pick any moment of darkness in your world, and start with this question: What do I need to learn from this?

    Breathe and just listen. Your body knows the answers.

  • A Different Kind of More: The Beauty of Living with Less Stuff

    A Different Kind of More: The Beauty of Living with Less Stuff

    She was all that mattered. I was deeper in debt, legal fees, and uncertainty than ever before, but I held on tight to my vow to give her more.

    I would give her everything. I’d work harder, make more, buy her more, take her to see more, do more, and prove to her that everything would be okay. I had no idea that this new goal would be just as damaging, and just as hard on my heart.

    My desire to give my daughter more wasn’t wrong, just misguided. While I could never have articulated it then, I did want more for both of us, but not more stuff and money.

    What I wanted was more love, connection, laughter, and adventure, but that was too hard to measure. Instead, I made more money, worked more, spent more, and accumulated more. Living with less opened the door to a different kind of more: more space, more time, more light, more freedom, and yes . . . more love. It has always been about love.

    My mom showered me with love on our trips to Boston, and I went into debt loving my three-year-old with Christmas presents she could never appreciate. All of the more . . . it wasn’t just for Bailey. It was for me too because I didn’t just think more + more = more, I thought more + more = love.

    By letting go, I was able to see that love could stand alone. It didn’t have to come attached to presents, shopping trips, or big work bonuses or acknowledgments. I didn’t have to earn or prove love. When I got rid of the stuff, the debt, the busyness, and the distractions that were swallowing me, I was surrounded by love. It was everywhere.

    I had enough.
    I am enough.
    I don’t need more approval.
    I don’t need more money and stuff.
    I don’t need more anymore.

    When I discovered that I was enough without anything else, I saw that I was love. I am love. You are too. We’ve been the love we seek all along. It’s just been hiding beneath all of the layers of clutter, busyness, and show we use to protect ourselves from the pain.

    Diamonds Are Not This Girl’s Best Friend

    Diamonds are not my best friend but they used to be. It wasn’t just jewelry but all the things I bought to lift me up, prove my worth, and demonstrate my love. As I became more and more me and started experiencing the world from this new stuff-less place, I realized that diamonds are not this girl’s best friend.

    My best friend is a magical rooftop sunrise. My best friend is the ocean. My best friend is a hike in the mountains. My best friend is a peaceful afternoon. My best friend is a really good book. My best friend is laughter. My best friend is seeing the world. My best friend is time with people I love. Diamonds have nothing on my best friends.

    So yes, I want more, but not more stuff. I want more early mornings, more hiking and connecting with nature, more meaningful conversations and hand holding. More seeing the world. More creativity. More crazy ideas. More love. Always more love.

    With a soulful simplicity and living with less, my life has become more than I ever imagined. Instead of more money, more stuff, more busyness, and more stepping outside of myself to be who other people may need me to be, I’m enjoying a different kind of more.

    I am more myself and more connected to my heart. I am more available for people I love and projects I care about. I’m more present and focused. I have more space, time, and love in my life along with all of the other mores I craved for so long.

    I am always learning something new about how simplicity works on my heart, changes my relationships, and influences my work. At first my journey was focused on tasks like decluttering, paying off debt, and downsizing. The changes started on the outside while the real work was happening on the inside.

    With each thing, obligation, or assumption I let go of, I remembered who I was. I saw how far I had strayed and made it a priority to come back to myself. Forgetting who you are and living outside of your heart is painful. Do whatever it takes to come back and be more you. Give yourself all the space, time, and love you need to remember who you are.

    Excerpted from Soulful Simplicity: How Living with Less Can Lead to So Much More by Courtney Carver with the permission of TarcherPerigee, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright© 2017 by Courtney Carver

  • How I Stopped Feeling Trapped in a Life I Didn’t Want

    How I Stopped Feeling Trapped in a Life I Didn’t Want

    “Stop thinking in terms of limitations and start thinking in terms of possibilities.” ~Terry Josephson

    When I was in my early twenties I was lucky enough to spend about a year living just a few blocks from the beach in Virginia Beach, Virginia, but you know what I remember most distinctly from that time? Sitting at a red light on the way to work one day thinking: I feel trapped.

    To put it simply, I felt stuck in a life I didn’t want.

    I had a college degree I wasn’t using. I had a job that I dreaded. I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, and I certainly had no idea how to get to the next thing, whatever that was.

    By the end of that year, I’d managed to move away from Virginia and was living back in Vermont, a place I’d originally landed at for a few months right after I finished college. The trapped feeling was gone, at least for a little while.

    I was able to go from seasonal job to part-time job and back again for about a year, and that helped me feel not quite so tied down. Eventually I left Vermont and moved to the mountains of North Carolina.

    Over the years, that trapped feeling wrapped its tendrils around my chest and squeezed a number of times, but recently I realized I haven’t felt that way in quite a while.

    What was it that made me feel so trapped in the past? Why haven’t I been feeling that way anymore? For me, I think it comes down to career and identity. I spent much of my life wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up, and went from job to job, often ending up feeling like I was caged in.

    I had a job working at an inn that I really loved. Sometimes I was bored, but mostly I felt at least a little freedom, especially once I was the boss and could make my own schedule.

    After a few years of that, I took a job at an airport that was such an awful fit I can’t even put it into words. I was bored, lonely, and anxious, and caught more colds than I ever have in my life.

    There was some good in that job, though, in that I started expressing my creative side again, something that had been dormant for a long time. Being miserable also forced me to take a look at the choices I was making in my life and career.

    I had other boring jobs after that one, and then one really terrible one that went against just about every moral fiber in my body. The owners made their politics very clear and they were the polar opposite of mine. I was expected to be on call almost all the time; if my work phone rang when I was at home, fear filled my heart.

    Once again, I felt trapped.

    It was worse than ever at this job because I was the sole breadwinner while my husband was in school. I knew it was a terrible fit, but I felt I couldn’t leave.

    Looking back, though, while all of that was going on, I was refining and honing what it was I truly wanted and who I truly was.

    I read a zillion self-help and career books. I took a life coach training program. I started meditating.

    Most importantly, I started listening to myself. Or maybe I should say my Self.

    I started following the things that felt true to me. Being inside an office all day simply was not working, and I wanted to work for myself, not for someone else.

    I needed to be creative. I needed to be able to go outside in the middle of the day. I needed freedom.

    I left that last terrible job nearly four years ago, and visits from those tendrils of terror don’t come very often anymore, despite the fact that I’m much more tied down than I ever have been before (hello mortgage, car payment, husband, two cats, and child).

    The bottom line is that I finally feel like I’m living my life instead of someone else’s.

    I do hold a job again, but it’s super flexible, doing something I mostly enjoy. I create art almost every day, and both the process of putting colors to canvas and earning money from something I enjoy so much bring me big feelings of freedom.

    I also get to be outside in the middle of the day, which brings me more happiness than I ever could have imagined. I get to set big goals and move toward them at my own pace. I get to control my life in ways I didn’t before.

    I feel like me, and it feels so good.

    Here are some steps of the steps I took to get from there to here, and that you can try, too, if you feel trapped in your life.

    Listen to your body. This has helped me more times than I can count. If your chest feels tight, if your stomach is in knots, if your shoulders are up to your neck, or if you feel just plain off, you need to stop and listen to what your body is telling you.

    Your body is the animal part of you, in touch with your deepest needs and desires. It’s your brain that keeps interfering and telling you the kind of life you “should” be living. Try checking in with your body at least once a day and seeing what makes it feel open and relaxed, then do more of that.

    Know you can make progress even if it doesn’t feel like it. For years and years I tried to get out of that cycle of being stuck in a job I hated, trying to do something new but then realizing it wasn’t the right fit, and then starting the whole thing over again. It’s only looking back now that I see I was getting closer and closer and learning more and more each time I did something different—I just didn’t see it at the time.

    Take the tiniest steps possible. When I was in that job that I really hated, it would have created more stress and anxiety in my life if I’d quit, since I was the one bringing in the money and because, about a year after I started the job, I got pregnant and needed the health insurance. So I took tiny steps while I was there: I made art on the weekends, I took an online class about building my own business, I went outside and walked by the ocean a lot.

    If you do anything, and I mean anything at all, that moves you closer to a place of peace or excitement, please give yourself a pat on the back. There is nothing wrong with congratulating yourself and telling yourself what a good job you’re doing. It will keep you moving forward and help you build momentum.

    Look for the positive. There is something good in all of our experiences if we take the time to look for it. That job was a positive for me because I could support our family while I was there, and because I learned what I didn’t want in a job.

    I feel the same about all of my jobs and even all of my past relationships. Even if it wasn’t the right fit, I learned something about myself and what I did or didn’t want out of a job or a partner.

    Every time you experience something, you can learn from it and use it to move away from what you don’t want and toward what you do want. Focus on the good you’re finding, and more good comes. Focus on the bad you’re feeling, and the more you’ll feel bad.

    Learn to live with uncertainty. You just can’t know everything, and that’s okay. I got a life coaching certification, personal training certification, and master’s degree in health education before I realized that none of that would help me feel free. Until I found it, I didn’t know what would give me that feeling, and I was (mostly) okay with that. I was trying new things, seeing what felt right.

    You don’t need to know exactly what’s going to happen to know you’re on the right path. So long as you’re taking chances and learning about yourself, you are.

    Lastly, don’t discount little things that make you happy. I used to think that art was just something that I did when I was a kid that couldn’t amount to much, and the pleasure it brings to me in my adult life, both on a personal and professional level, is tremendous.

    If it feels good, go toward it. If it feels bad, move away from it, even if you have to do it slowly.

    You don’t have to feel trapped in a life you don’t want forever. You can make changes, even tiny incremental ones, and get into a life that feels just right for you.

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

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

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

    I knew it was coming.

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

    The dreaded pizza walk!

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

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

    Easy? Maybe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    So why was I shaking just thinking about it?

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

    But then again, is that really true?

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

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

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

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

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

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

    And it was weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    From nowhere I heard myself say:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    How do you stay more present?

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

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

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

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

    Is it in your thinking, or in life?

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

    And if you were wondering, it wasn’t the winning scatchcard.

    You can’t win ’em all!

  • How to Stop Feeling Lonely and Escape the Emotional Eating Cycle

    How to Stop Feeling Lonely and Escape the Emotional Eating Cycle

    “When you no longer believe that eating will save your life when you feel exhausted or overwhelmed or lonely, you will stop. When you believe in yourself more than you believe in food, you will stop using food as if it were your only chance at not falling apart.” ~Geneen Roth

    I used to eat because I was lonely.

    Lunch hour at school would last nine billion years. I’d have no one to sit with—I was spotty and mega bossy, and my hobby was copying pages from anthropology books.

    Everyone would put a sweater on the chair next to them, so I’d have to sit further away. Then, just as I’d pick up my fork, they’d up and leave anyway! “Oh well,” I’d think, “If I eat slowly I can make my fries last till the bell goes.”

    I switched to packed lunches to avoid the dining hall. But I didn’t want to be spotted alone on a windowsill, so I’d eat my sandwiches in a toilet cubicle.

    After, I’d feel full, but unsatisfied. And still have time to kill! So I’d go to the dinner hall and buy a meat pie. I felt sad and gross.

    The truth was, I didn’t know how to be a friend, let alone make one. I was full of resentment toward other kids.

    I acted superior but felt inferior. I was needy, or tried to impress them.

    I didn’t think friendship was something people learned—I thought there was something wrong with me. That I’d be this way forever.

    I also hated that I couldn’t resist overeating. Since my family was big on brown rice and organic vegetables, I felt guilty for buying junk food.

    When I hit my teens, I became body-conscious. I panicked that comfort food would make me fat. I wasn’t! But I thought my thighs were big, and clenched my stomach in all day. All day!

    I felt too embarrassed to ask anyone—especially my parents—for help. I thought they’d say I was greedy. Or lecture me about eating crap. Or take me to a doctor—humiliating!

    I didn’t know it was called “emotional eating,” but I was pretty sure it was bad. So I kept quiet.

    I thought: “I can fix this myself. I just need the self-discipline to eat less!”

    Going on improvised diets made things a whole new level of worse: binge eating, bulimia, and feeling utterly obsessed and depressed about food.

    It took seven years before I found a way to recover.

    I wish I’d known how to deal with lonely emotional eating in the first place, instead of going off on an eating disorder tangent!

    So if you’re dealing with a double-whammy of eating and loneliness yourself, here are eight simple steps. They will guide you through solving your emotional eating, and your loneliness, from the inside out.

    1. Imagine your life without emotional eating, and shift focus away from guilt and shame.

    You’re not greedy. You’re not gross. You’re not ill. You’re just trying to cope with a fear: abandonment.

    It’s the emotional fear we’re born with. Outside the tribal circle, a baby would die. The primitive part of your brain thinks, “I’m alone—I’ll starve!”

    It’s how you’re wired, so give yourself a break.

    If you waste your energy wrestling with guilt and shame over eating, you’ll never tackle the real emotional challenge—loneliness.

    So when guilt and shame come up, shift your focus.

    Imagine a peaceful relationship with food. Imagine eating when you’re actually hungry. Visualize slowly nourishing yourself.

    2. Loneliness is a self-worth issue, so become willing to work on your self-worth.

    It’s like this: You’re by yourself. That’s not loneliness, that’s solitude.

    Sometimes it’s nice, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. Uh-oh!

    Mind games start: you imagine it’s because you’re unlovable.

    That’s loneliness. Low self-worth, in disguise.

    If you’re lonely, it’s easy to think you could earn your self-worth back by changing something external.

    You think, “If I found a great partner, then I’d know I was lovable.”

    Or you think, “I’ll be worth loving once I get a grip on my emotional eating and lose weight.”

    But that’s not how it works! Self-worth isn’t something you earn. Or that drops in your lap either.

    You choose to create it.

    So ask yourself: How can I work on my self-worth?

    (Don’t worry if you don’t know yet. Some ideas are coming up…)

    3. Spend some quality time with yourself.

    Are you enjoying your time by yourself? Or just watching TV?

    Imagine you treated a child the way you treat yourself on a too-tired evening.

    Browsing Facebook when they say, “Play with me.” Sending them to the fridge to scavenge instead of cooking dinner. Binge-watching Netflix instead of putting them to bed when they’re tired.

    They’d feel hurt, and start believing they weren’t worth spending time with. They’d also start misbehaving wildly to get your attention!

    The same is true for how you feel about yourself. When we ignore our inner selves, we start to believe we are worthless, and an emotional eating crisis is a great way for our heart and soul to grab our attention.

    Spend some quality time with yourself.

    Take yourself on a date, just you and you.

    Play (build a go-cart, paint your room), be in your body (move, bathe, meditate), or relax (read, whistle, sit in nature).

    Self-worth grows as you self-connect, so every little counts.

    4. Create thoughts that give an inkling of self-worth.

    When I was rock bottom with food and loneliness, my thoughts were dominated by failure, being a victim, and believing change was impossible.

    Stuff like “I’m gonna be lonely forever,” and “I hate my body, I hate myself for eating, and I’m too pathetic to stop.”

    Three positive thoughts in particular helped me out of my pit.

    They didn’t tell me directly I was worthy or fabulous—saying anything saccharine about my life would have felt like gloss painting a turd.

    They just implied a basic level of self-worth.

    They were: “I’m part of life unfolding.” (I’m not in a vacuum. Even though I feel totally dissociated and alone, I’m still participating in life on the planet.)

    “I really care about my body.” (I’m upset I overate again. But I couldn’t get upset if I were indifferent… So on some level, I must care!)

    And: “Things are already changing.” (Repeating this phrase is a positive action… So maybe I won’t always be like this).

    Find one thought that implies you aren’t your worst fears. That makes you feel worthy-ish. Then repeat it like you’re being paid a piece rate to do so.

    5. Explore how you’ve created loneliness.

    Try this: It’s funny!

    Imagine someone wants to master the art of loneliness. Lucky for them, you’ve honed the perfect system!

    Write down what you’d teach them.

    My own Perfect System for Staying Lonely says: “Don’t have a calendar for friends’ birthdays. Tell yourself that you’re too broke to buy gifts, cards, or book a babysitter.”

    And: “Get hired for shift work, and rehearse theatre shows every weekend.” I disconnected from my relationship like that that for the first five years of my marriage! (Thankfully, the guy’s a legend.)

    The point is, I thought loneliness happened to me.

    But I make myself lonely, when I don’t need to be. Years after my schooldays are behind me, I lead myself back to that painful-yet-familiar place. It’s called a comfort zone.

    It doesn’t mean it’s your fault you’re lonely—this isn’t about blame. This is actually good news: If you’re doing it, you can undo it.

    6. List everything that your loneliness buys you.

    An excuse not to face trust issues?

    A reason to avoid intimacy?

    A cover for social anxiety?

    I know it’s not obvious that loneliness has advantages, but sometimes it’s a way to avoid something even more scary or painful.

    Me? Loneliness excuses me from owning my introvert personality. Intimacy makes me feel vulnerable, and rejection scares the crap outta me.

    These hidden benefits to your loneliness are called “payoffs.” It pays off to explore them!

    Because they’re the reason you’re creating loneliness, even though it hurts.

    7. Explore the ripple effect of loneliness in your life.

    You’d expect loneliness to make you shy at parties, or reluctant to date.

    But has it changed you in other ways?

    Unhealthy self-reliance has made me a nightmare to cook with. And low self-worth has taken its toll on my financial outlook.

    Clean out your worldview.

    Defy your loneliness-inspired beliefs about what you can and can’t do (like, ask someone to chop the mushrooms while you stir the risotto, or ask your boss for a raise).

    It’s a great way to un-victim yourself.

    8. Finally, when you’ve done all that inner work, break up your emotional eating habit.

    Habits weld to each other! Drinking and smoking. Driving and talking to yourself in a variety of accents. Lonely emotional eating and—?

    Break the links.

    Don’t just say to yourself “Stop eating toast.” Don’t make any rules about what you eat.

    Instead, change how you eat. If you don’t know how you eat, slow down.

    Notice what you do at each stage of your emotional eating habit—beforehand, during, after, where, when, with what planning.

    Do any part of your habit differently.

    Say you eat ten slices of buttered toast and jam in front of the TV each evening. Buy different butter that you don’t like so much. Put the TV (or the toaster) in the cellar. Create an eating area, keep the sofa for relaxing. Shop differently. Go out.

    Keep disrupting your habit, and it will eventually dissipate.

    Habit change takes patience, and sometimes repeated attempts too.

    But break up your habit from enough angles, and you’ll eventually find you’ve replaced it with a way to enjoy food again.

    —

    The way I think of it, addressing loneliness is 88% of the solution for emotional eating from loneliness.

    When I solved my eating struggles, I spent a couple of years of journaling and becoming aware of my beliefs, thoughts, and feelings. Then, only a month or two of habit change.

    I know a couple of years sounds really long! Perhaps it will take less time for you. The point is, this isn’t a quick fix. Quick fixes rarely address the underlying issues.

    It’s tempting to rush. To try to skip straight to solving the eating—out-of-control eating feels unbearable and you want it to stop, like, yesterday—but if that hasn’t been working for you, or you’ve even ended up binge eating like I did, give yourself permission and time to go deeper.

    Trust me, changing an emotional eating habit is much easier when it’s just eating, and the compulsion part has had your loving attention.

    So good luck, and don’t rush.

  • The Antidote to Shame: I Know I Am Enough

    The Antidote to Shame: I Know I Am Enough

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    I am enough.

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

    I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.

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

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

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

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

  • Move Your Body, Calm Your Mind: 5 Practices That Help Ease Anxiety

    Move Your Body, Calm Your Mind: 5 Practices That Help Ease Anxiety

    “Get out of your head and get into your body. Think less and feel more.” ~Osho

    Do you want to meditate but the idea of sitting with your thoughts for twenty minutes gives you anxiety? Or maybe meditation seems like one more task you have to add to your ever growing to-do list, so you take a pass?

    As a working mother of three, I’m no stranger to daily stress and routine overwhelm. Life in the twenty-first century can be pretty hectic, especially for busy moms, and so many of us search for practical ways to minimize the stress and anxiety that are so common in our society.

    Meditation seems like a perfect solution. It’s “easy,” accessible, and it’s good for our health, both mental and physical. It reduces stress and improves emotional regulation, concentration, and sleep. It helps us develop more kindness and compassion, for others and ourselves.

    Sounds like a perfect cure. Except it’s hard. It can feel like a chore or a time thief. And it often triggers our fears and anxieties, especially if we have a history of trauma we’re still healing. 

    So why not adjust the traditional meditation practice to reflect our modern lifestyle and constrictions? Why not mimic the practice of mindfulness while moving your body? Instead of sitting still, why not focus on gentle, repetitive movements that are enjoyable, all while reaping the benefits of mindfulness?

    Believe me, you can have it both ways.

    I am a Type A person. I am driven, full of energy and ambition. I’m competitive, over-scheduled, and always on the go. And I don’t have much patience, or time to kill. Sitting still for twenty minutes is often the last thing I want to do.

    Another hurdle for me was anxiety, which often peaked when I opened up to my internal world of thoughts and feelings, as one does while sitting in meditation. I do better now, but in the first year of practice I often felt triggered and overwhelmed—precisely the opposite of what I was going for.

    This is common for people with trauma or chronic pain. We tend to numb, distract, or ignore distressing sensations in order to make it through the day. Mindfulness requires the opposite of such disassociation.

    When sitting in meditation, I was to focus on and “befriend” my body, along with the residue of trauma still lodged in it. Despite my best intentions I would become fidgety and agitated instead. Noticing my pain, both physical and emotional, seemed to increase it. I’d find myself trying to resist it, run from it, beat myself up for not being able to just “observe” my experience, and then criticize myself for beating myself up. It was a vicious cycle.

    I understood that the goal was to learn to be with my experience, and it did get easier over time, but often it was too much to handle.

    Needless to say, I’ve searched for alternative ways to meditate, ones that didn’t involve sitting still but were movement-based instead. And I found plenty.

    The Meditative Benefits of Rhythmic Movement

    Many of us have experienced some type of trauma or significant stress in the past. It’s part of a human experience. Even if we were lucky enough to avoid trauma, we live in a world of chronic stress and overwhelm. We often operate in “survival mode” and experience chronic muscle tension and fatigue. We feel anxious and maxed out too often.

    Anxiety is often a symptom of a freeze response in fight-flight-freeze—the feeling of helplessness, our inability to change or escape a difficult situation, such as the daily stress that comes with our modern lifestyle. Movement is a great antidote to that freeze state. It gets us unstuck.

    Stress gets stuck in our bodies. We carry this tension around with us and it affects us on a body-mind level. Movement is a great way to release that tension and get back to a relaxed state. Repetitive movement can also bring us into the state of mindfulness, giving our body a chance to press the reset button and kick in our natural healing and renewal processes.

    Rhythmic movement, just like meditation, can be very therapeutic and healing. It helps integrate our body and mind, reset the nervous system, and rewire the brain for healing and wholeness. It’s not only good for your physical body but your mental health too.

    Meditative movement activities are grounding as well. Feeling grounded is the exact opposite to perpetual worry.

    Anxiety is about getting stuck in our internal world of thoughts and feelings. The repetitive movement, however, helps us get out of our head and reconnect with our body, grounding and centering us, connecting us back to the earth and to ourselves.

    Grounding reduces inflammation and emotional stress, elevates our mood, and improves our immune responses. It brings us back to feeling centered and secure. And it’s exactly what we need in times of struggle and overwhelm.

    5 Movement-Based Meditative Practices Perfect for Anxious People

    There are a number of activities that have a meditative effect that don’t require you to sit still for twenty minutes. In fact, any movement that’s relaxing and repetitive can give you similar effect as meditation. The trick is to go slow and bring mindfulness to the practice. And if you enjoy doing it, you will find it easier to add to your daily routine, so it won’t feel like a chore.

    Here are my favorites:

    1. Walking

    Walking is one of the easiest anxiety-reducing movement-based techniques. It can invoke mindfulness, clear your head, and release stress from the body. And if done in nature, you will feel more wakeful and alert and, at the same time, open, relaxed, and spacious.

    2. Hatha yoga

    The most rewarding for me personally, Hatha yoga is a gentle practice of body-mind integration. Yoga combines awareness of breathing with asana practice, enabling you to achieve the state of mindfulness and wholeness. It’s easy and accessible to everyone—you don’t have to join a studio, simply search YouTube for inspiration and lesson videos.

    3. Gardening

    Nothing connects me more to my surroundings than gardening. Great for anxiety and taming the monkey mind, gardening is a perfect activity to help you become mindful and engage with the world around you with all your senses. The calm of gardening can bring about the state of flow, as you become fully absorbed in the activity. Gardening is grounding; my garden is my personal Zen.

    4. Swimming

    Swimming is a gentle exercise that allows you to focus on deep breathing and the rhythm of your stroke, both lulling you into a state of deep relaxation. It comes with minimal distractions and is a great tension reliever. All you need is a body of water.

    5. Dancing

    Focused on expression on a bodily level, dancing allows you tap into your body’s own healing resources. It’s therapeutic. You connect with your body in elemental ways and allow it to express feelings often hard to convey in words—something especially beneficial for trauma victims and people suffering from anxiety or depression.

    By being mindful while dancing, you also learn about yourself and your body and embrace your creativity and the comforting flow of pleasant physical sensations, fully re-engaging with the present moment. And that’s healing.

    —

    Whatever practice you choose, use the movement and sensations of your body to bring your awareness to the present moment. Draw your attention to your hands and feet, the sensations of touching the ground, and your arms swinging or shifting in motion.

    Follow your breath as you inhale and exhale deeply and air travels in and out of your lungs. Let the rhythmic flow of your movements relax your mind.

    Listen, notice, smell, and feel into your surrounding, using your senses to anchor yourself in the present moment.

    Observe your experience, including your thoughts and feelings, without judgment. Notice when you get lost in thoughts, and bring yourself back to the movement, back to the now.

    Try to add mindful movement to your daily routine, if possible. It’s a great way to reset your mind and remove stress out of your body, in a gentle and supportive way. Weave your favorite meditative activity into your daily life, without the distraction of technology. Make it your self-care habit.

    And don’t forget to tap into mindful movement in times of struggle and overwhelm, to gently shift your body and mind out of stress and into relaxation. It’s a great alternative to sitting meditation when anxious energy is stuck in your body, ready to be released in an active way.

    Mindfulness Takes Practice But You Are Worth It

    I used to ruminate a lot on my walks. With practice, I’ve learned to let go of my onslaught of thoughts and bring myself back to the present moment. I now focus on the smell of freshly cut grass and the feel the breeze on my neck and sun on my face, and pay attention to each step and how it resonates through my body. As I walk, I realize the beauty around me and fill my heart with joy and gratitude. That uplifting energy fuels the rest of my day.

    I do practice sitting meditation, and I have found it to be very useful. But my temperament begs me to move and be in nature, which is why I love walking and gardening.

    Think of what is healing, relaxing, and brings you pleasure. Then bring awareness to your body as you develop a practice of bringing that joy into your every day, whether through movement, a creative pursuit, or play.

    You are worth it!

  • Feeling Empty? Here’s How to Find Joy (and Yourself) Again

    Feeling Empty? Here’s How to Find Joy (and Yourself) Again

    “Many people are alive but don’t touch the miracle of being alive.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh 

    “Who are you? No, really. Who are you?”

    I stood at my bathroom mirror, towel twisted around my head, inspecting my own reflection. A woman I hardly recognized looked back at me with empty eyes. Empty mouth. Empty insides.

    “Who are you?”

    Silence.

    “What do you want?”

    Nada.

    “What are you thinking?”

    Zilch.

    I sighed and reached for the toothbrush. The truth is, I’d been there before. That empty-sad feeling. The feeling of not quite fitting in. Not quite feeling fulfilled.  

    Before, I’d brush it off. Dig deep, push through, move on.

    I’d say everything was just fine. It sure looked just “fine.” After all, I was a fully functional adult. Everyone said so.

    I had my education, a career, a husband, kids, a house.

    I was chipping away at that mortgage and student loan debt. They’re the good kinds of debt, you know.

    I’d checked the boxes on life’s to-do list. Isn’t this what we should all be aiming for?

    I didn’t know it yet, but this time would be different. That moment would be the turning point after too many years convincing myself that I didn’t know the answer to my questions.

    This would be the moment of renewal, reclaiming the missing pieces of me and offering them the loving care they deserved all this time.

    Later that day, kneeling down at the washing machine, ruminating about I don’t even know what, it hit me: a full-body NO. This is not what life is meant to be, I thought.

    It was a no to this being my everyday experience. No to living on autopilot. No to feeling empty. No to not even recognizing myself.

    It was a punch through the chest. My eyes welled with bottled up tears, and I had the distinct feeling of just wanting to go home.

    I’d been pushed over the edge of the cliff I’d tiptoed for years.

    The real surprise, though, was the laughter that followed. It tickled my throat and escaped through bursts of tears. I reached up to wipe my cheeks and found a smile there.

    The relief of seeing all of this and finally saying, “No!” was the most amazing thing.

    I spent the next few days in quiet observation, breathing through the pins and needles of waking up.

    At first, I didn’t know what to make of the mixed-up, muddy feelings that met me. Was this anguish? Euphoria? Confusion for sure, but I felt I had no choice but to keep going.

    So, I walked softly and resisted the urge to define this.

    The more intently I listened, the more clearly I started to hear and feel yes and no. They curled through my day, winding themselves around everything I’d just accepted as “the way things are.” 

    The no’s felt empty, hallow, fake. It felt like acting. It was resistance and alarm bells and forcing. Even though it had been my usual mode of operation, being in a state of no also started to hurt.

    But yes… yes felt alive. It was light, expansive, and exciting. I felt energized and creative whenever I was there. The best part was, it was easy.

    Of course, as any of us would, I wanted more of the yes and less of the no. I grabbed a sheet of paper and drew a line down the middle. Two columns: yes and no.

    Beside yes, I wrote “lights me up.” Beside no, “drains me.”

    Then, I listed all of the yes’s and no’s I felt during the day. It was nothing fancy, just a quick word about what I did and how I felt. By the end of the week, I’d created my personal manual for living.

    It was my blueprint for calling my lost parts back.  

    There on that sheet of paper, in my own handwriting, were all the things I’d always known but didn’t yet see.

    I saw that there are naturally things that will be unpleasant or less than thrilling, but that my being doesn’t need to feel that way. There is so much opportunity for yes if we’ll allow for it. So, I started to follow yes with more intention.

    I bought a stack of composition books and carried one with me everywhere.

    I started to draw again after almost thirty years.

    I wrote a poem, and then another and another.

    I started writing children’s stories.

    I fed my spirit good music, sunlight, plenty of color, and lots of space.

    And I remembered that lightness is like oxygen for your soul.

    Now I see that that face, those eyes, those insides, they weren’t empty. They were aching with the kind of deep burn that comes from turning your back on yourself, walking away, and never looking back. I’d just numbed it is all.

    I’d let myself get too busy to think of things like who I am, what I dream, and what I believe more than anything.

    I retreated into my day-in-and-day-out and identified with the little dramas, whether they were mine to start with or not.

    It wasn’t all gloom, mind you.

    I was ambitious. Driven, dedicated, motivated. A real go-getter and other fully functional adult-type things.

    I was also grateful for life’s many blessings and aware of the countless privileges bestowed upon me that had nothing to do with my work ethic or worth as a person.

    Like I said, I was fine. (But not really.)

    I was aimless and stuck in a close enough approximation of inner peace and freedom. I existed as a fragment of me.

    Looking back, it was on that day that I decided that even if I was fine, fine was not enough.  

    Fine is not thriving.

    Fine is not complete.

    Fine is not what I came here to experience, and I couldn’t face another day of pretending to be here and whole.

    My sense of wonder and magic, my awe, my creative spirit, and my light had been calling out to me all this time. Only I couldn’t hear it until then.

    I don’t know if I’d been more scared or ashamed of who I was after casting away these important parts of myself. Maybe I didn’t recognize them as my own. Or maybe I thought this was how it’s supposed to feel. It’s just how things are—you can’t be successful and free, whole and at peace.

    Yet, there they were this whole time, turning toward me like flowers turning toward the sun. They held tight to the cracks in this facade I’d created.

    I suppose they never were lost, just watching and waiting until the day I set down my resistance and welcomed them back home.

    Calling my lost parts home didn’t happen in one grand, sweeping gesture. It took a lot of little moments. Awkward, wobbly baby steps that took me sideways and backward just as easily as forward.

    It took me a while, but I finally figured out that when you feel a yes, you follow it. And bit by bit, all those little steps coalesced into what from the outside looks like the one moment I “took the leap.”  

    If any part of my story resonates with you, then maybe you know what it feels like to pretend to be here and whole. And maybe you’ve had those little moments of clarity and mini-epiphanies that “fine” is not what you came here to experience.

    Maybe you’ve heard your lost parts knocking at your door asking to come home. And maybe you’re ready to listen.

    It may seem like an impossibly long journey when you’re in the walking sleep of I’m fine, but calling your lost parts back and welcoming them inside is as easy as following what lights you up one baby step at a time.

  • 4 Things I Needed to Accept When I Was in Transition and Felt Insecure

    4 Things I Needed to Accept When I Was in Transition and Felt Insecure

    “Sometimes what you’re most afraid of doing is the very thing that will set you free.”-  Robert Tew

    I want you to picture this. You are standing on a mountain, and in front of you is a taller mountain with a prettier view. Between the mountains is 100,000 foot plunge to the bottom, filled with jagged rocks. You know that you need to make it to that other mountain and that the only way for you to do so is to jump—but for some reason, you cannot move.

    This is what transition feels like, especially when you have to make huge leaps into new and unexplored territories.

    Recently, I found myself in this very position, paralyzed with fear. All I could think about was how I was going to go from being a graduate student to being a real adult, working and living in the real world.

    To be completely honest, I wasn’t even thinking—I was worrying and putting mounds of pressure on myself to make a move, to act. What’s worse is that in times of transition it seems as though you are being truly tested. 

    Personally, the comfort cocoon I created for myself over my college years unraveled. My friends graduated and left to start their lives. All of a sudden, what used to be continuous social outings changed into monthly check-ins.

    I was confused as to how I got here. I would look around, hoping that someone would show up and be a source of entertainment. That never happened and I found myself alone.

    At first, I didn’t take this as a gift but as a punishment. I wanted to be distracted because if I was, then I wouldn’t have to think about what was coming next. I wouldn’t have to face my greatest fear of being by myself. Luckily, the universe had other plans.

    When I first started being alone, my insecurities and doubts came rushing in to keep me company. I was constantly telling myself that I was not worthy, that I was not enough, and that I was not strong enough to make this transition. I doubted my capabilities and everything I’d earned up until that point.

    When I would interview for jobs, I’d be interviewing out of fear. I thought the people on the other side of the phone were better than me because they achieved what, at the time, I thought I could not.

    I compared myself to others who seemed further along on their life path. I became jealous and angry that I wasn’t as far along as them. I resented myself because I believed I had no life experience. 

    Transition scrambles your life up, both externally and internally. I thought I’d resolved my issue of being alone, yet here I was, mistaking aloneness for loneliness. I thought I was confident and sure about myself, yet here I was, questioning the very foundation I’d built. I slammed into my own mental brick wall and then became idle in moving toward the life I desired.

    One day, as I was sitting by my space heater drinking hot chocolate, I thought about what was holding me back—what I didn’t want to admit myself. After doing some self-reflection, I realized there were several things I needed to accept. They are as follows:

    1. I was scared.

    I wasn’t sure and I am still not sure if what I am jumping to is safe or promising. It’s the unknown, but in admitting to myself that I was terrified, I immediately felt lighter because I was no longer wasting time convincing myself that I was not fearful.

    2. I don’t have everything figured out, and that’s okay.

    I had to tell myself that transitions don’t happen overnight; they happen over days, months, even years. I have plenty of time to discover, to explore, to create, and to decide what my transition will be and how I will get there.

    3. I was in the in-between.

    In the in-between, you are neither here nor there. You are just in the middle. Think of it as though you are hovering in the space between those two mountains. I used to hate this space, because I wasn’t in control. Yet, in all honestly, you are never really in control. In this space, you have to trust—trust yourself, trust the universe.

    The beautiful part about the in-between is that it gives you time to make a plan and to execute it. Taking small steps every day proved to me that I was actively moving toward my desired mountain. I designed a plan that was manageable so I wouldn’t become immobilized again. It made the tasks ahead less daunting.

    4. My thoughts could be my prison or my wings.

    I struggle with this daily and I “fail” at it a lot. It’s hard to erase negative thinking habits and replace them with positive ones. Then, if you add the weight of your insecurities and doubts, it seems like an impossible feat.

    What has helped me the most is taking each moment as it comes. In one moment, I can be completely fine. In the next moment, I can be upset about why I am not this or that, what I look like, what I feel like, why I am wrong or right, etc. In those difficult moments, I remind myself to breathe.

    I breathe through my loud judgmental voice, and I acknowledge her presence in my head. I then tell myself that no matter what the circumstances, I am loved, I am protected, and I am safe. Sometimes this works and other times it doesn’t. The point is that I don’t have a clear-cut solution to this issue; I take it day by day.

    When it comes to appreciating my aloneness, I have gotten into the habit of not inviting anyone over when I am feeling antsy or I feel like I need company to be okay with myself. I sit with that discomfort, and make myself do an activity I can absorb myself in, like coloring, playing Solitaire, or reading. In doing this, I actually spend time with myself, by myself, for myself.

    Everyone’s transition isn’t going to look the same, and it isn’t going to bring about the same issues or ideas. Regardless of what yours looks like, remember that change is the only constant and that transition is a part of change. We must embrace our transition even if it is difficult.

    In doing so we face ourselves and we acknowledge the areas we need to grow in, the areas where we are strong in, and the areas we didn’t even know existed. We help heal ourselves into wholeness so when we do finally decide to make that jump, we are not scared about whether we are going to reach the other side.