Tiny Buddha

Tag: Happiness

  • We Can Make the World a Better Place, One Interaction at a Time

    We Can Make the World a Better Place, One Interaction at a Time

    “Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one.” ~Marcus Aurelius

    Now more than ever, the world needs good people.

    While driving home from a job interview the other day, I listened to Joe Rogan talking about how he treats strangers who act mean or hostile to him, for apparently no reason at all.

    His modus operandi is essentially, “Let it go. You never know what kind of day the other person is having.”

    This resonated with me exceptionally well. It’s one of the big things I’ve been focusing on in the latter half of 2017—being nice to people no matter what the scenario.

    I consider myself an above average kind person. I’m always appreciative and friendly with servers at restaurants. I thank the pilot every time I walk off a flight (after all, for a few brief hours he is 100% in control of my life). And, I smile when greeted by a stranger.

    But, I am beautifully flawed much like the rest. Occasionally, emotions get the best of me. When my ego gets offended, instead of acting with love and kindness, my gut reaction turns to anger and “how dare he!”

    I’ve practiced being a good human being for as long as I can remember. Now, I’m determined to keep that persona, regardless of the situation.

    My Dance with the Devil

    A few short weeks ago, I just so happened to be in a scenario that tested my new philosophy.

    It may shock you when I say that I was driving a vehicle when this happened. Road rage is so uncommon these days, right?

    Anyways, my fiancé and I had just pulled into the parking lot of the Target a few minutes down the road. We were in a hurry to travel to her parents’ place in the mountains, kicking off a relaxing weekend away from home.

    The plan was to drop her off at the front then park the car. We were just stopping in for coffee and a few little things for our journey.

    As I pulled up to the pedestrian crosswalk, the mega-sized truck in front of me slammed on its brakes, forcing me to do the same.

    Instinctively, I threw my right arm in front of my fiancé while simultaneously blurting out an expletive. In the blink of an eye, my anxiety went from a one to an eight.

    I looked around to find the cause for his sudden stop, but I saw nothing. No pedestrians. No other cars (besides me). No stray animals.

    As the truck turned left and the driver came into clear view, I did something that immediately made me feel like a bad person: I flipped him the middle finger.

    Making the World a Better Place, One Interaction at a Time

    With all the hate, corruption, violence, and bullying that goes on in the world, why add more fuel to the fire?

    Did I really need to flick that guy driving the truck off? I mean, what if he had just gotten a phone call that shook his world? My ignorant act of hatred might be the exact opposite of what that guy needed in that moment.

    As Joe Rogan and many other individuals wiser than me would say, you never really know what kind of day that person is having.

    I felt terrible for doing it. I still feel bad about it, but I know I need to move on. In quite literally a millisecond of weakness, I slipped up.

    We all have egos that demand people treat us with respect. When the ego gets bruised, it’s extremely important to take a brief moment to decide how you want to respond instead of reacting impulsively.

    The world doesn’t need more hate. It needs more love, compassion, and kindness.

    If the other person was mean to you, it’s not a reflection of who you are as a human being; it’s likely something going on in their life. That person might be the happiest, most loving individual on the planet and could just be having the worst day ever.

    By choosing to respond with kindness, you make the world a better place. Maybe that person realizes the error of his ways. Maybe he doesn’t. It really doesn’t matter.

    What matters is that you took on an act of unkindness and refused to give it more power.

    You want to improve the world we live in? Don’t focus on solving world peace, global hunger, or stopping corrupt politicians. Instead, focus on the day to day interactions you have with everyone around you.

    Just imagine if all the rest of us would do the same.

    How I Started Being Better

    Being someone who responds to hate in a loving way is by no means a simple task. Your ego will want to defend itself, and you will find yourself reacting poorly, like I did.

    There were a few things I started doing that helped make me a better person, but one thing stood above them all. Practicing mindfulness, primarily through meditation, was the game-changer for me.

    Mindfulness gives you the extra “pause” you need in your life to properly defuse those tricky situations.

    It’s not really something that can be explained, but you’ll know what I’m talking about when you begin your own practice.

    My experience with meditation has always been a rollercoaster, practicing consistently at times and falling off the wagon at others. But now, I’ve made it a point to meditate every day.

    Among plenty of other benefits, it makes me a better person, and that’s something I’ll never take for granted again.

  • Your Trauma Is Valid

    Your Trauma Is Valid

  • 40 Ways to Create Peace of Mind

    40 Ways to Create Peace of Mind

    “Set peace of mind as your highest goal, and organize your life around it.” ~Brian Tracy

    There was a time when I thought peace was a destination, in much the same way I imagined I’d eventually arrive at happiness or success.

    It seemed like something I needed to chase or find—definitely not something I could experience without dramatically changing my life.

    I needed to work less, relax more, and generally revamp my circumstances and relationships in order to be a peaceful person.

    Despite seeing peace as an endpoint, I also saw it as something passive; after all, that’s why I was so stressed: I had so much to do.

    I’ve since realized that peace is always available, and like any desirable state of mind, it requires effort, even if that effort entails consciously choosing to be still.

    Sure, our circumstances affect our mental state, but they don’t have to control them, not if we make tiny choices for our well-being.

    Admittedly, it’s not easy to choose peace when we’re going through tough times. I still go through periods when I get caught up in worries and stresses, and it can feel like that’s the only available response to things that have happened.

    But it’s not. There are countless things we can do to create peace of mind, both in response to events in our lives, and proactively, everyday.

    If you’d also like to develop a greater sense of peace, you may find these suggestions helpful: (more…)

  • Why We Feel the Need to Explain Ourselves and Justify Our Choices

    Why We Feel the Need to Explain Ourselves and Justify Our Choices

    “You are responsible for your intention, not your reception.” ~Amy E. Smith

    I’ve realized that I put a lot of energy into trying to explain my decisions. Sometimes those explanations are an honest attempt to connect with another person or to step a little further out of hiding. Often, they are a result of my own self-doubt and desire for people to like me.

    For example, I feel an obligation to say yes to any invitation or request I receive. Sometimes I’m glad to agree, other times I’d prefer to do something else. It gets tricky when the thing I’d prefer to do seems unimportant.

    Wanting a quiet night at home doesn’t seem like a valid reason to decline an invitation to go out. So I come up with all the reasons I can’t go—I’m exhausted and maybe feeling a little sick and I have a lot I need to get done the next day and… and… and…

    For some reason, “because someone asked” is a sufficient reason to say yes, but in order to say no I feel I have to prove that I have an abundance of important and inescapable circumstances getting in the way.

    Recently I had a conversation that prompted me to think more deeply about when, how, and why I choose to explain myself to others. I was explaining my choice, but for very different reasons.

    I had decided to step down from leading a discussion group and agreed to meet with the woman who would have to find my replacement. I didn’t have to explain why I was leaving. I could have given a generic reason or declined to give any reason at all.

    Instead, I chose to offer a fuller explanation. I was quitting because I felt like I had to hide part of myself in order to meet the expectations of the role. I didn’t want to keep hiding who I was and, for me, an important piece of being more visible was offering an honest explanation of why I was leaving.

    In this instance, explaining wasn’t about caretaking her feelings or making sure she would still like me. It was about saying what I really thought and felt instead of letting her continue to think I was who she imagined me to be. Even if she didn’t understand or was disappointed in me, I wanted to be seen.

    We offer (or don’t) an explanation of our choices for a variety of reasons. We can be motivated by fear, guilt, or self-doubt. We can also be honoring ourselves and others.

    There isn’t a straightforward answer to the question of how much to explain and when. While there may be some truth to the idea that we don’t owe anyone an explanation, there are still plenty of situations when explaining is the right choice for us.

    Becoming more aware of the reasons behind my urge to explain myself helps me make better choices about how much to share. Here are some motivations I’ve noticed. What would you add?

    We’re trying to control the other person’s response.

    It’s uncomfortable to be around someone who is angry or hurt or disappointed. If we’re giving someone information we fear they won’t like, it’s tempting to pile on explanations. We believe if we can give a compelling enough reason for our choice, we can ensure the other person will see things our way.

    If we have a good enough excuse for declining their invitation, then maybe they won’t take it personally and be hurt. If we have enough solid reasons for our choice, maybe they won’t be mad that we didn’t follow their advice.

    Maybe if we can make them understand, then they will still like us.

    We’re trying to ease our own feeling of guilt.

    Choosing something another person might not like can prompt feelings of guilt in us. When we feel guilty about our decision, we often turn to explanations and excuses to convince the other person and ourselves that we have a very good reason for choosing the way we did.

    Many of us believe, whether we realize it or not, that other people’s wants, needs, and feelings are more important than our own. We believe saying no or declining an invitation is selfish or rude. We think that in order to be kind, generous, and likable we have to be unfailingly agreeable and accommodating.

    We’re insecure about our own choices and want the other person to validate our decision.

    No matter what we decide, there will likely be someone who doesn’t agree with our decision. It doesn’t matter if the choice is around career, education, parenting, wardrobe, reading material, cleaning supplies, diet, or paint color. While it doesn’t feel great to have people disagree with us, we’re less impacted by their opinion if we are confident about our own choices.

    On the other hand, if we are unsure about our decision, we often look to others for reassurance. We over-explain in the hope that the other person will understand and come around to our point of view. Often, it’s not really about the other person changing their mind as much as it is about needing external approval for our own choices.

    We want to foster a closer, more open connection with the other person.

    Sometimes we choose to honestly share what’s going on for us with the people we care about most. We take the time to be clear about our reasons and intentions in order to increase depth and authenticity in our relationship.

    In this instance, we are not as concerned about making someone see things our way. We’re trusting them to support us whether they agree with our decision or not. Our explanation is not a form of persuasion or manipulation but a sign of respect and a chance for the other person to get to know us better.

    We have been hiding.

    Some of us have a habit of staying silent in order to not disrupt others’ good opinion of us. If we stay quiet, others will often fill in the blanks about who we are with their idea of who they think we should be. It can feel safer to let them think they know us—they might not like us if we share more of who we really are.

    But there are times when the divide between who we are and how others see us becomes too great and we’re no longer content to stay hidden. We may be tired of feeling disconnected and unseen or want to practice more visibility and integrity.

    As we take steps toward greater visibility, people may pushback against the change. We might try to explain for one of the reasons above—to try to ensure they’ll understand and still like us. We might, instead, decide to be open and honest about who we are and where we are, whether or not anyone else understands.

    So how do we know when and how much to explain? Every situation is different and there’s not an answer that’s always right. Taking a closer look at the reasons behind my urge to explain is key but identifying our real intentions can be a challenge. The following questions can help us explore our motivations from a few different angles.

    How will I respond if they don’t like my explanation?

    How we are impacted by the possibility of an unfavorable response can give us a clue about our motivations for explaining. Imagine the other person disagreeing with your explanation. What will you do?

    Will you rush to explain again, more thoroughly and clearly? Will you feel guilty and change your mind? Will you be proud of yourself for being honest whether or not you would be understood?

    As a note, the emotions you experience about their response don’t necessarily indicate that what you chose is right or wrong. You can feel sad, frustrated, or hurt by the other person’s response while also feeling proud of your decision and the way you handled yourself.

    What does it mean about me if they don’t agree with my decision?

    This is where we can gain insight into some of our biggest fears. If we believe their disagreement means something bad about us, we might feel compelled to explain why they should see things our way—even if it means exaggerating or only telling part of the truth.

    If, on the other hand, we can see that their disagreement doesn’t necessarily indicate whether our decision was right or wrong, then we can be more confident that any explanations we choose to give are motivated by connection or respect.

    What do I hope my explanation will accomplish?

    Whether you’re hoping for deeper connection and understanding, to avoid something you don’t want to do, or to win approval, getting clear about your goal will help you understand your reason for explaining.

    Are you looking for reassurance about your decision? Do you need to step into greater visibility? Are you trying to decline an invitation without hurting anyone’s feelings?

    Try to look below the surface answer. For example, if you hope your explanation will change someone’s mind, asking yourself why that’s important to you may reveal another motivation.

    What if the situation were reversed?

    How would you feel if the person you invited assumed they needed to make up lots of excuses to keep you from getting upset with them for declining? What if someone was hiding their opinions and preferences and needs in deference to yours? What if they depended on you to validate their ideas when they couldn’t trust themselves?

    We tend to hold ourselves to a different standard. Switching roles can help shake up our assumptions and give us an opportunity to treat others as we would like to be treated.

    So what do we do?

    Explaining doesn’t come with a set of rules, but here are a few thoughts that are helping me make choices about when and how to explain.

    Get clear about your intention. Why do you really want to explain? Who do you want to be in this situation? Remember, you don’t have to agree to be kind.

    Keep it simple. Longer explanations don’t necessarily bring greater understanding. What is the most important thing you want the other person to know?

    “Thanks so much for thinking of me! I won’t be joining you this time, but I hope you have lots of fun.” Isn’t that way simpler (and kinder) than a string of excuses or agreeing with resentment?

    This takes practice. Our explanation habits won’t change overnight. Take the time you need to get clear on your intentions and think through how you really want to respond. It’s ok to let the other person know you’ll need to get back to them later.

    You likely won’t get your explanation just right every time—I don’t think any of us do. Be gentle with yourself. See what you can learn for next time and keep practicing. Remember, you don’t have to be perfect.

    I’d love to know, what are the main reasons you explain your choices? What helps you offer explanations out of respect (for self or others) instead of fear? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

  • 20 Things You Don’t Have to Apologize For

    20 Things You Don’t Have to Apologize For

    If you’re anything like me, you apologize far too often, and most of the time, when you haven’t done anything wrong.

    Sometimes we apologize for things beyond our control—like bad weather during a party we’re hosting.

    Sometimes we apologize when someone else was actually in the wrong—when a waiter brings us food not cooked to our specifications, for example.

    And sometimes we apologize for life choices we have every right to make—like the decision to change jobs, or end a relationship.

    We’re wired to seek a sense of belonging, and we fear being ostracized from our tribe, so many of us lean toward excessive contrition to ensure we’re still in people’s good graces.

    We may also apologize because we’re highly sensitive to other people’s feelings, and we want to ensure we haven’t unintentionally caused them pain.

    Particularly if you were abused at some point, it can feel imperative to express remorse for potential slights and offenses, since this could minimize the risk of retaliation. But by doing this, we’re undermining ourselves and reinforcing a sense of guilt and subservience.

    It’s admirable to apologize when we’ve genuinely done something wrong, or even if we believe we inadvertently hurt someone else. But there are certain choices we need to own, and need never apologize for.

    Since this topic has been on my mind lately, I decided to ask Tiny Buddha Facebook followers this question a couple weeks back:

    What’s one thing we should never apologize for?

    More than 2,000 people responded, many with variations of the same ideas. Below is a short list of the ones I found most compelling.

    You Never Have to Apologize For…

    1. Removing someone from your life that repeatedly crosses your boundaries. ~Bonnie Romano

    2. Being who we are, and feeling our feelings. ~Courtney Redd-Boynton

    3. Trusting your instincts, even if you can’t explain it. ~Kate Willette

    4. We should never apologize if we’re not truly sorry. I don’t believe in apologizing because someone ‘demands’ an apology. ~Olga Baez Rivera

    5. Quality “me” time (taking care of ourselves). ~Nath Ray

    6. Your opinion—there is no right or wrong opinion, and there’d be a lot less arguments if more people could just respect and appreciate different insights. ~Jennifer Werner Mader

    7. Standing up for what you believe in. ~Michelle Galyon-Stallings

    8. Living life the way we choose to, regardless of fitting in with other people’s norms. ~Tanya Johns Emery

    9. Making decisions about your own future that don’t do any harm to anyone. No one should be made to feel guilty for trying to better themselves. ~Rebecca Killeen

    10. You shouldn’t have to apologize for how you feel. You may need to apologize for how you act on your feelings, but never for being hurt, angry, sad, etc., and expressing how you feel. There’s a difference. ~NathanArisa Ferree

    11. Being sensitive. I feel my feelings and I believe it’s hurtful when individuals are quick to tell someone to “get over it.” If we aren’t harming anyone, we all deserve to process our feelings in our own time frame and manner. ~Lori Mitchell

    12. For being protective of our children and trusting our instincts as parents—especially when they’re not yet capable of advocating for themselves. ~Amitola Rajah

    13. Having to grieve. Some people think there is a time limit or a timeframe. It could take a lifetime to accept someone we love passing away. ~Lisa Marie

    14. Speaking the truth. It ain’t always pleasant, but better to know what’s really in someone’s heart than be fake! ~Kiran Sohi

    15. Speaking up when someone has hurt us in some way. ~Karin Alberga

    16. Fighting for the rights of animals. ~Linda Leppington

    17. Taking a break and doing absolutely nothing for ten minutes. ~Christina Teresa

    18. Being a free thinker and questioning everything even when it’s not the popular thing to do. ~Kathy Gildersleeve Wesley

    19. Choosing what you think is best for your life. ~Kay West

    20. Apologizing too much. ~Lori Deschene

    Yes, I just quoted myself there. And what I wrote might seem a little ironic, considering the topic of this post. But I’ve realized that despite knowing I don’t need to apologize as often as I do, I may still fall into this habit at times. And I’ve decided that’s perfectly okay.

    It’s okay that I sometimes experience anxiety about potential rejection. It’s okay that I’m insecure at times, and apologize to compensate. And it’s understandable, given my background, that I occasionally blame myself for things that aren’t my fault.

    The whole point of learning to apologize less is to build confidence in ourselves and our choices, and that means embracing our humanity.

    It’s human to struggle, and unless we’re hurting other people, there’s no need to apologize for it.

    What’s one thing you’ve realized you don’t need to apologize for? Have you ever apologized for something on this list?

  • Why I Believe That Feeling Offended Is a Choice

    Why I Believe That Feeling Offended Is a Choice

    “The feeling of being ‘offended’ is a warning indicator that is showing you where to look within yourself for unresolved issues.” ~Bryant McGill

    As I ponder back over my forty-odd years on this planet, I can’t really remember going lengths of time without feeling offended. By someone’s words, or actions. It was simply my default reaction.

    Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t enjoy it. Feeling offended never feels good. Ever. There’s always a sting. Which is probably why the (many) “feeling offended” memories are so prominent. And clear.

    Some of them were simple and relatively unimportant.

    Like the time I was sharing some important insight with my (then) partner. I was mid-sentence and fully engaged emotionally only to be cut short as he decided to take an incoming call from his ex-wife. And promptly left the room.

    Yup, I took offense.

    Or what about the time, more recently, when I discovered I’d been “unfriended” by one of my oldest friends on Facebook? No explanation offered. Just gone.

    Yup, I took (major) offense to that too.

    As I reach further into my treasure chest of memories, there are also those bigger “feeling-offended” moments. Those that had a more reaching impact on me. That made me question myself. My values. My self-worth.

    My daughter’s dad left the country when she was three. My relationship with him was difficult, so I’ll admit I was relieved. It did mean, however, that I was to be a single parent in every sense of the word.

    And I took that role seriously. I was young and naïve, but I did my best with what I knew and felt proud of each parenting milestone.

    Her dad, on the other hand, showed up annually for a week or two, created a bit of emotional upheaval, and then left. Again. His input (emotionally and financially) was limited.

    I was left to make all the decisions—important or not—and I liked that. It felt free. Independent.

    When my daughter was about ten, I decided to move her into a different schooling system, one that I felt she would thrive in. Her dad caught wind of this and decided he had the right to interfere. And he did.

    What followed was an unforgettable telephonic conversation, wherein I was lambasted for my somewhat shortsightedness in her educational needs, as well as in my general parenting too!

    I. WAS. OFFENDED.

    Who wouldn’t be! Right?

    And boy, did I wallow in that pit of self-indignant injustice! For weeks!

    Just who did he think he was! Seriously??

    And it felt uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. I vacillated between anger, hurt, and indignation. I replayed the event over and over and over. It consumed my thoughts. Totally.

    Over time, the thoughts faded and life moved on. Yet if I engaged that memory, all the feelings flooded back, just as powerfully.

    The hurt.

    The sense of injustice.

    The feelings of worthlessness.

    In a way, I felt powerless to it.

    Feeling offended was a reaction. How could it ever be a choice?

    In recent years, I’ve come to understand more about how we interact with our thinking. That our thoughts are separate from us. And that engaging with them can be a choice we make. Consciously.

    With this in mind, let’s look at what really happens in the process of us feeling offended.

    1. We attach our sense of value to a certain aspect of our outer persona (what we present to the world, aka our ego).

    If you value yourself as a kind person, it’s not surprising that you would feel offended if someone said you were unkind. Being kind is how you present yourself to the world. It forms part of how you validate your worthiness.

    Conversely, if someone told you that you suck at being an astronaut, would you care? Probably not in the slightest.

    Because there’s no attachment to that as part of your identity.

    Simple, right?

    In the example above, being a “good mom” was part of my identity. It gave me a sense of validation. Having my parenting questioned left me doubting my sense of worthiness.

    But the truth is, we’re not our persona. Our worthiness is not attached to our ego.

    Feeling worthy is not something we find outside of ourselves. It’s inside us. Always has been. We simply need to reconnect with it.

    2. We attach value to other people’s opinions.

    Imagine that you’re innocently walking down the street, minding your own business and feeling content. A big burly chap accidentally bumps into you, and as you turn to look at him he screams at you. Expletives flow out of his mouth about how clumsy you are. How you should watch where you’re going.

    Yet it was his fault!

    How do you feel? Probably pretty offended. And angry. Insulted even. How dare he!

    But here’s the thing: His reaction had absolutely nothing to do with you. At all.

    He may have just been fired. Or had a fight with his mate. You were simply the excuse he found to vent his anger.

    So, in taking offense, aren’t you wasting your good mood? Will it help matters if you shout back? Will he ever apologize? Doubtful… You’ll just feel bad.

    We never, ever, know what others are thinking. Or feeling. We’ll never see life through their eyes. Which means our perspectives will always be different.

    So how can we ever see someone else’s opinion about us as our truth? It’s their truth. Only theirs.

    My daughter’s dad had no idea what I did as a parent on a day-to-day basis. How could he?

    Also, his idea of parenting varied hugely from mine. We had vastly different perspectives. In his world, his was right, and ditto, me in mine.

    So how could I place any validity or truth to his criticism of my parenting?

    How could I truly feel offended? His outburst was never about me. It was simply his opinion. That’s all.

    Choosing not to feel offended comes from a place of strength. It’s an empowered perspective. A choice. But it doesn’t mean that we’re condoning the offender’s behavior. No, not at all. Quite the opposite applies.

    Spiteful or derogatory comments grounded in phobias, like racism or homosexuality, are mostly fear-based. And they’re usually founded in ignorance.

    By choosing not to feel offended, we’re taking the high road. A higher perspective. One that feels good.

    We’re only ever responsible for our role in this interaction.

    Honestly? It’s not always easy. Especially when it’s close to home. Involving someone we love.

    Sometimes feeling offended is simply part of the human experience. And that’s okay.

    From an empowered place we can move past it. Let it go. And lean toward our innate sense of well-being.

    Feeling worthy feels confident. Content. Relaxed. Safe.

    It’s knowing that we’re enough. Total unconditional acceptance. Just as we are. No judgment.

    As we extend that to others, we become immune to their behavior. And opinions. There’s just unconditional acceptance.

    And that’s when you truly feel empowered. When you can really accept your role in taking offense.

    And simply choose not to.

    It’s that simple.

  • Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself On Sale for 99 Cents

    Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself On Sale for 99 Cents

     

    Hi friends! I’m pleased to announce that the eBook version of Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself has been selected for The Great Autumn eBook Sale, which is offering twelve powerful eBooks for just 99 cents each, from now until October 19th.

    About Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself

    Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself  shares forty unique perspectives and insights on topics related to loving yourself, including:

    • Realizing you’re not broken
    • Accepting your flaws
    • Releasing the need for approval
    • Forgiving yourself
    • Letting go of comparisons
    • Learning to be authentic

    Featuring stories selected from hundreds of Tiny Buddha contributors, this book can help you overcome critical, self-judging thoughts to create a peaceful, empowered life.

    —

    Some of the other titles in The Great Autumn eBook Sale include:

    • Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Little Book of Wisdom
    • Communication Miracles for Couples
    • Let Go Now: Embracing Detachment
    • A Year to Clear: A Daily Guide to Creating Spaciousness in Your Home and Heart 

    Click here to see the full list of 12 bestselling titles you can choose from for only 99 cents each.

    The reduced prices are only available through midnight on Thursday October 19th, so be sure to act quickly if you want to take advantage of this unique opportunity to load up your eReader while saving big.

    If you’d rather grab a hard copy of Tiny Buddha’s Guide to Loving Yourself, you can get one on Amazon here. Or, if you’re more drawn to my latest book, Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal, you can find that here.

    Happy Wednesday!

  • If Only I Knew My Worth…

    If Only I Knew My Worth…

    “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” ~Albert Einstein

    Looking back on my past, I see that I have spent most of my precious time striving to improve myself instead of celebrating the very gift of being alive and healthy. For many years, I though I wasn’t good enough, and perfection was my worst enemy.

    I considered myself pretty but not beautiful, somewhat smart but not truly intelligent. In other words, I thought of myself as average, not outstanding. I grew up with the fear of getting bad grades in school because if I ever did, that would have made a new reason for me to feel ashamed and unworthy.

    In the Eastern-European schooling system I grew up with, I was always compared to others and every day in school felt like a never-ending competition and fight for the glory of being the first in class. It was tough. I hardly had any free time to play, and most of my days were filled up with homework.

    I spent quite a few years in school, including university. I held successful jobs in a big corporation, and I traveled the world with work. And I invested a lot of money, time, and energy into studying and growing in my career.

    I’ve gotten to learn a lot about history, mathematics, chemistry, biology, physics, literature, music, and foreign languages. Despite all that, there is one essential topic I would have liked the schooling system to prepare me for: how to know my own value.

    So here’s what I didn’t realize at the time and what I know to be true today:

    If only I knew my own worth…

    I would have stopped focusing on my weaknesses, flaws, and imperfections without even being aware of my natural strengths, gifts, and talents.

    I would have stopped fighting for perfection and punishing myself for every tiny mistake I might have made. I would have known that perfection was nothing but an illusion of the mind, and didn’t exist.

    I would have acknowledged the hard work and efforts behind my achievements instead of attributing my accomplishments to luck or other people who gave me chances to succeed.

    I would have stopped making myself small each time I achieved something good, as if “that wasn’t anything special” or “anyone else could have done it.”

    I would have stopped taking myself for granted, being aware of the value I was going to bring to any of my employers with my personal set of skills and abilities. I could understand that getting paid for my knowledge was nothing but fair game. I would have found the courage to ask for a raise and negotiate my salary, and I would have never ended up underpaid.

    I would have stopped comparing myself to others, and would have known that everyone is on their own journey. I could celebrate other people’s successes instead of fearing I might not earn the same amount of money or get the same amount of love. I would have understood that life doesn’t have to be a fight or an exhausting competition—that there is enough of everything and for everyone, including myself.

    I would have felt at ease when praised by others, embracing compliments with grace. I wouldn’t have made myself small or put myself down as if I wasn’t worthy of such a celebration.

    I wouldn’t have acted like a master of people pleasing, not daring to say no to the things I didn’t really want to do, fearing people wouldn’t like me any longer. I wouldn’t have felt like I owed anyone any apologies or any explanation for the way I was spending my time and with whom. My time means life and it’s never coming back.

    I wouldn’t have expected others to make me happy, fulfill my needs, and keep my cup full of love, care, and attention. I wouldn’t have expected any man to make me feel valued, cherished, wanted, and loved, knowing that my happiness was my responsibility and every else was a bonus.

    But despite all that, here’s the gain in pain, the blessing in disguise, and the real gift of my life experience:

    I am convinced that we live in a smart, intelligent Universe where everything unfolds perfectly, and everything happens for a good reason.

    I am not here to blame anyone for anything. I am not a victim. Society did the best it could at the time. So did my parents and my teachers. My life circumstances have nothing to do with my future, and I am the one co-creating my reality through how I think, act, and feel. It is my birthright to be happy, only because I am human. I am here to grow and learn more about life and myself.

    It is never too late to step into my power and feel worthy of the best things life has to offer: good health, love, and abundance. When I value myself, others will value me as well.

    Today, I know I couldn’t do my empowering work in the world from a place of authenticity and power without going through such a disempowered experience myself. There is no light without darkness.

    I stopped explaining myself for what I want and for who I am. I am not afraid to step into my greatness. I am perfectly beautiful and beautifully imperfect, and this allows me to be me. I have learned how to love and approve of myself, exactly the way I am.

    I have come to realize that in life, we don’t always get what we want because we only pursue what we think we deserve. That’s why it’s crucial that we believe in ourselves and see ourselves as enough and worthy of the best things life has to offer.

    “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t, you’re right.” ~Henry Ford

  • Letting Go of Our Past Identities: When It’s Time to Move On and Evolve

    Letting Go of Our Past Identities: When It’s Time to Move On and Evolve

    “Life is the dancer and you are the dance.” ~Eckhardt Tolle

    The day I decided to leave acting felt like being exorcised from my own body.

    I was twenty-nine and had been dreaming of being an actor from the time I first saw a regional production of Cats around the age of eight.

    I spent the next twenty-one years with laser focus on making that dream a reality—voice lessons, dance classes, summer theater intensives, constant late night college rehearsals, and finally, top conservatory training.

    Even my mother, who was initially highly uncomfortable with the idea, tossed up her hands when she saw me perform and when she witnessed my resolve.

    “You have just always known,” she would say with a sideways smile. “You were meant to do this.”

    Acting brought me closer to the divine. I get that now. And though it took me a while, I now say that unapologetically.

    What I felt when I was onstage was nothing short of connection to the divine self, to a self I could trust to fly, to do her thing without apology, my deepest self-expression, a high-vibrating force. Perhaps that was why I was so addicted to it, why I felt I needed it to feel alive.

    My actor self was a mask, a costume I wore for many years. I believed I needed it to feel seen, to be admired, to become powerful. My talent and successes were proof of my worthiness to live and to be loved. The idea of taking them off instilled mortal fear.

    The day I left acting, I had just finished one of my most achingly fulfilling runs. I played a meth addict named Janelle who was struggling for sobriety and love. At the end of the show, I knew the time had come to let go. I knew it was time to move on, that I was meant for work beyond it. Though I knew, it didn’t stop me from sobbing on my bed in the fetal position.

    The day I left New York City, I felt like I was being exorcised from my own body.

    Silent tears streamed down my face as we drove through Brooklyn en route to Virginia. My heart railed against my rib cage and my intestines temper tantrumed in rebellion.

    New York City was where I found myself as an adult, as a professional.

    It was where I found my people, my tribe who believed in me, my message, who called me the “white witch.” It is where I became a business woman, developed my own programs, retreats, where I started writing, where I honed my self-expression and channeled it into impact. It is where I started to feel like an independent bad-ass, who could do anything, who could dream things into reality.

    I realize now that much like acting, coaching brought me closer to divine. It took me a while to say that, but I say it unapologetically now.

    There was an energy that would flow through my veins, crackling with electricity. My focus would narrow and I would feel suspended in time with another human. I didn’t “think.” Information was just there for me. I was relying on a deeper intelligence, and the kicker was that it was the same energy I felt onstage.

    Perhaps that is why I became addicted to my professional roles in NYC. Part of me still believed I needed them to feel close to that divine source, to feel powerful, to be worthy of love and of being alive.

    When I was left in a new city without my tribe, without that admiration, without the same roles as before, without the ability to easily look into someone’s soul, for a while, I felt lost. I questioned my worth.

    The day I became a mother, I felt like I was being exorcised from my own body… quite literally.

    Emotionally, I was letting go of all the child selves I had been and bidding farewell to unbridled freedom. Physically, the contraction and pain left me unable to fight, and in a strange way, left me completely open to presence.

    On that day, pulling my son from between my legs and onto my chest, I felt intensely connected to the divine. In the months and years following, despite the challenges, the exhaustion, and the constant couts in my ability, I feel the connection to something larger than myself growing and growing, and when I think it can’t get bigger, it just keeps on going.

    And though I’m still in my early years, I can already feel myself becoming addicted to the role of mother. 

    Part of me still believes I need it to feel those feelings of transcendent connection, of deep intimacy, connection with my children, of deep feminine power. I can feel how much I am already attaching, and how one day, letting go of being needed, letting my children make their own decisions, simply letting them go, will feel like being exorcised from my own body.

    One day, I also know I will have to let go of the identity of a daughter, of a wife, of me.

    And perhaps that is the dance of letting go of our identities, our roles, our masks and our costumes. They become second skins, and even when they become painful and frayed, we feel we need them to be safe. We feel we need them to experience love, and breaking free may always feel like we are being exorcised from our bodies.

    But life never stops moving and never stops demanding our internal growth. We outgrow each phase, and each role with time. Each one eventually falls away as we become larger and more expansive. 

    Life never promised to keep us safe. It wasn’t designed that way.

    Life, however, will continue to hand us opportunities to become who we really are, to understand ourselves on a deep level, to experience the full breadth of human emotion.

    Some of these opportunities will strip us of our false selves and our superficial attachments. Others will invite us and inspire us to play bigger in our own lives. They all serve the same purpose, however, to understand love, and ourselves, with more nuance, with more wisdom.

    Life hands us the masks and the costumes until we grow into them fully, then asks us to take them off.

    It will hand us the closing of the show, the chapter, and the opportunities to take them off. In doing so, life gives us the option to expand who we are underneath the costumes, to get closer to the divine, the feelings of big love, transcendence and connection in a new way that we have before.

    When we attach to the identity costume we are wearing in the moment, it’s like pouring cement over our deepest selves. We are missing the point of the purpose of it, and in doing so, we are refusing our own evolution. The result is that we wind up feeling limited, stuck, and chained.

    The identity may be the temporary vehicle of the deeper self, but the guidance of our soul doesn’t care much about them, which is why it may whisper to us to change paths or urge us toward something surprising to us, and scary to our identities.

    We always have the self underneath who is trying on the costumes, who is constantly growing bigger and more powerful (if we are listening and feeding it). We never lose it. It is our point of consciousness. It is the life energy that is neither created nor destroyed.

    Perhaps the next time life confronts me with an opportunity to take off the costume, to dance naked for a while, or to put on a new coat, I can try to hand it over with a little more grace and trust.

    And the truth is, I love trying on the costumes, the masks. I love dancing around in them. Some songs are dark and melancholy. Others are full of joy. Sometimes there is silence and all I can do is lie on the floor.

    I recognize, however, that each coat will eventually come off, and it is the self underneath that I am left with, and she is the source of all everything; of deep feminine power, of love, of connection, of presence, of flow, of trust, of belonging. She is who I have always been.

    She just needed to see herself mirrored back in all of those costumes to see truly see that.

  • Honesty Is a Gift, So We Don’t Have to Hide Our True Feelings

    Honesty Is a Gift, So We Don’t Have to Hide Our True Feelings

    “Never apologize for showing feelings. When you do so, you apologize for the truth.” ~Benjamin Disraeli

    I’ll never forget my progress report from third grade: “Jennifer shows disappointment when she’s not called on.”

    This must have been a bad thing, because my mother sat me down to talk about it. Apparently, when I raised my hand and wasn’t called on, I frowned. I was to work on that, to try to stay neutral, to not show I was upset.

    I also clearly remember the day my dad came over to my mom’s house to tell me his father, my grandfather, had passed away. I was twelve, and I started crying. My father told me to stop crying because it was going to make him cry.

    Once again, I felt as if I was being scolded for having feelings and showing them.

    Years later, when I was very stressed out at a high-pressure job, I was crying in my own private office. The CEO of the tiny company walked by and then came in to talk to me for a few minutes, then left.

    The next time I had a performance review, I was told, in not so many words, that crying was not allowed. If I had emotions to express, I should go outside and walk around the building until I felt better.

    All of these incidents made me feel embarrassed and ashamed. I shouldn’t show my emotions of disappointment or sadness. I shouldn’t allow myself to feel stressed out, especially if it meant shedding tears.

    These experiences seemed to be the world showing me that it was my job to stay still and quiet, and that I should smile even when I didn’t want to, and that I should prevent my messy emotions from ever impacting anyone else.

    The trouble was, and is, that I have a terrible time hiding my emotions. I’m an emotional person, and if I’m sad or overcome with emotion, I cry. If I’m disappointed, I frown. If I’m happy, I smile or laugh.

    Still, I’ve gotten good at trying to moderate my emotions, especially in social or work situations, in order to present myself a certain way. A way that does not allow me to be my true self.

    Luckily, though, something happened that made me realize that trying to mask my emotions was ultimately taking me out of alignment and out of touch with everything I’m here to learn and experience.

    One day, I heard the author and spiritual teacher Martha Beck talking about her “integrity cleanse,” and something clicked in me.

    She said that a couple of years ago she started attempting to live in complete integrity—always telling the truth (in a kind way, of course)—and that it has changed her life in profound ways. She said for her, even if the expression on her face doesn’t match up with how she’s feeling in her body, she’s out of integrity.

    Boom! That’s exactly what I needed to hear.

    I finally realized that showing and expressing my emotions was actually a good thing, probably one of the most important parts of my healing journey and time on this planet.

    Instead of walking through this life pretending I’m okay when really I’m heartbroken, or acting like I’m not offended by a racist joke, or smiling when someone says something that makes upset, I need to honor and express my feelings.

    I’m going to tell you a secret, though: It’s freaking hard. As much as I say I don’t want to hide my true feelings, in many ways it’s a habit.

    Who wants to upset their parent or spouse? Who wants to ruffle feathers at work? Who wants to walk away from a boring conversation and worry about being perceived as rude?

    The thing is, any time we’re hiding our emotions or pretending we do or don’t feel something in order to protect ourselves or someone else, we’re lying. We’re lying to ourselves, and we’re lying to the other person.

    And lying? It’s bad for the body, mind, and spirit. It breaks you down and stresses you out. It causes rifts and gaps in your family and with your friends.

    Here are some things you might want to keep in mind if you decide to allow your true feelings to show no matter who you’re with or what the circumstance.

    Sometimes you’re going to upset people. The thing is, if you always tell the truth, some people are simply not going to like it.

    There are some people in your world who likely want you to stay small, or to stay emotionless. If you are going to start expressing what you feel, know that some people will end up exiting your life.

    You’re not going to be immediately good at this right away, and it’s going to take time to feel comfortable expressing yourself in every situation. I am so, so not there yet. I still find myself smiling politely when really I want to run away, or answering a question in a way that doesn’t feel true to me.

    Yet, in many other ways I’ve created beautiful relationships where I don’t have to say “I’m fine” when they ask me how my day is going. I can tell them the real, scary feelings I’m having.

    I believe the best way to approach this is notice and acknowledge to yourself when you’re denying your emotions, even if you’re not ready to say it out loud. At least you’re telling the truth to yourself, and that’s an incredibly important first step.

    This is going to be very scary. If you’ve been hiding your real self and real emotions for a long time, or if you hide them from a large number of people, this is probably going to be the most frightening thing you ever do.

    Take it slowly. Practice not smiling at that coworker who always insists you smile. Tell him or her “No thanks, not right now.”

    Allow yourself to cry in front of a friend, even if you’re normally too embarrassed to do something like that.

    Let yourself express anger to someone who says something offensive or dishonors you in some way. You can do it.

    If you have kids, start teaching them to express their true emotions as early as possible, as it will make their own emotional lives much easier.

    My daughter is three, and though I sometimes catch myself trying to distract her from negative feelings, she responds so beautifully to me sitting down at her eye level and acknowledging her angry or sad feelings.

    I believe it’s a gift to allow others to feel what they feel, and that it creates honest, open humans.

    Ask for help in being absolutely true to yourself. Ask a friend or your partner to support you in your journey. If it’s in line with your belief system, ask a higher power for help in being open and honest with your feelings.

    Set the intention each morning that you wish to honor your own feelings, emotions, and truth, but that you also wish to do so in the kindest, most loving manner possible.

    You can do this. You deserve to do this, and the people you interact with deserve to know you in your truest form.

    This is not easy, but it does get easier, and I believe it’s the greatest gift we can give to ourselves and each other, even if my third-grade teacher would disagree.

  • Why We Need to Learn to Let Go and Adapt If We Want to Be Happy

    Why We Need to Learn to Let Go and Adapt If We Want to Be Happy

    Charles Darwin is believed to have said that in nature, it’s not the strongest or most intelligent that survives but those who are most adaptable to change.

    No matter what kind of life we live, we all need to learn to adapt, because everything changes. Good and bad come and go in everybody’s life. It’s one of the reasons resilience is so critical.

    We plan our lives expecting good to come our way, to get what we want, and for things to work out how we planned. At the same time we’re chasing the good, we try to avoid the bad.

    One of the biggest sources of our unhappiness and discontent is not being able to adapt to change; instead, we cling to things we’ve lost or get upset because things don’t unfold as we want them to.  

    What we overlook is that this is a fundamental law of life, the ups and downs, ebbs and flows. Things come and go, nothing stays the same, and we can’t control most of the things we’d like to. Accepting this and learning to adapt and go with the flow brings us one step closer to happiness.

    I’ve just come back from a meditation retreat. It sounds relaxing, and it was, but it was also difficult in many ways.

    I had to adapt to a new routine, which meant a 5:30am alarm, sitting for long periods of meditation, and periods of complete silence and solitude.

    And there were lots of other changes: Not having my morning cup of tea or evening chocolate—or any caffeine or dairy—and adjusting to a vegan diet. Being without WiFi and my cell phone, and braving the sub-zero temperatures up in the mountains of NZ in winter. Having to do karma yoga work—things like cleaning toilets and stacking wood. Not to mention the kind of emotions, thoughts, and feelings we’re confronted with when we start to disconnect from the world and spend time with ourselves.

    I was so pleased to be returning home, but then instantly thrown into the chaos of a busy airport with all flights grounded due to fog. I then realized that I would not be going home, and to attempt that tomorrow meant a bus ride to the next airport and finding some overnight accommodation to wait it out, with the hope that the weather would be fit for flying in the morning.

    Despite my Zen-like state post-meditation, I was frustrated, upset, and I just wanted to get home to see my partner, sleep in my own bed, and not feel so helpless.

    I had my plan, my expected outcome, and for reasons beyond everyone’s control, this wasn’t possible. I wasn’t going to get what I wanted.

    Now, a week later, I find myself having to learn the skill of adaptability once again.

    Many years ago I played soccer. I wasn’t bad, either. I loved it. It was my passion. As a kid, I’d play all day on my own in the garden, and once I found a team I’d never miss a match. However, my career was cut short in my early twenties after a ruptured cruciate ligament that was surgically repaired, re-ruptured.

    I had to give up on my passion and for many years didn’t play soccer. It was as a result of this devastation that I found yoga—my new passion and lifesaver for the past seven years, something I do every day.

    I’ve just had a further operation on this ailing knee, and while I’d adapted over the years from the injury, I found myself once again having to adapt to changes: Not being able to walk, being housebound, using crutches and the difficulties this brings. Finding a way of sleeping comfortably and seeing through the fog the painkillers seemed to create. Not being able to do my morning yoga routine and struggling to meditate because I couldn’t adopt my usual cross-legged ‘proper’ meditation position.

    Sometimes what is, is good enough. Acceptance is key to helping us adapt. 

    If I can breathe, I can meditate, and I’ve enjoyed some of my lying down meditations (the ones where I’ve managed to stay awake!).

    And now, as I reduce the meds and ease off the crutches, I can see positive change occurring. I can do a few standing yoga asanas and can take short walks with support.

    The devastation of leaving my beloved sport morphed into another form of exercise I fell in love with that I may never have otherwise discovered. And my recent operation led me to new ways of enjoying this passion.

    These recent lessons caused me to reflect on how life has changed for me over the last year or so and how I’ve been adapting along the way (sometimes kicking and screaming).

    I’ve gone from a nomad traveling the world to settling down in a city I’d said I’d never live in due to the wind and the earthquakes. I’ve experienced some of the worst winds and biggest earthquakes of my life since being here and learned to love it all the same.

    I’ve recognized the positives and come to love the bits that make this city (Wellington, NZ) great: the small town feel, the laid back lifestyle, the friendly residents, the ocean, the beach suburbs and beautiful scenery, the wonderful array of cafes and restaurants, not to mention the abundance of yoga, meditation, and wellness related activities.

    I’ve gone from being single and happy to living with someone else and having to think about someone else, taking into account more needs than just my own.

    I’ve had to learn to love again, take risks, and face fears while navigating a long-term relationship and our different wants and needs. I’ve had to learn to share a home and build a nest, and think about the future in ways I’d never have thought I could, feeling very blessed if also a little apprehensive and scared at the same time.

    Very often those in long-term relationships may envy the free, single, fun life of others, while at the same time those who are single are chasing the dream of finding their soul mate and settling down like the married couples who envy them.

    I’ve learned that everything has its pros and cons, each cloud has a silver lining, and each silver lining has a cloud. It’s what we choose to focus on that impacts our happiness.  

    We could always be chasing the next thing, looking for greener grass. But if we do this, the grass will always be greener even when we get there. And if we live like this, we miss out on all the good stuff we already have, all the silver linings that exist in the now, in our current situation.

    New relationships generally start well because it’s new and we’re in love. But what about when the novelty wears off, years down the track when we’re living together and bringing up kids?

    We realize that our new love is, in fact, human. We get tired, we get irritated, we find they do actually leave clothes on the floor and leave the lid off the toothpaste.

    In the same way our new, latest model dream car becomes not so new, or the dream job turns out to be a bit tougher than we thought.

    Everything has good and bad, so stop expecting perfection and clinging onto an unrealistic ideal. This results in us always be disappointed.

    Life changes as the seasons do. What we needed then may not be what we need now, and either way, we might not have control of what exactly is unfolding. Learn to adapt with these changes, not fight against them. Trying to keep everything the same is like trying to tell the leaves not to fall from the trees in autumn.

    Whether the weather doesn’t hold during a party we’ve planned or a long-term relationship ends, things don’t always go to plan. Things change and we don’t always get to hold on to good stuff forever.

    Embracing this is key to happiness, as is living in the present and enjoying each moment as it is.  Whatever is happening now won’t last, which is great news if we’re going through a tough time but not so great if things are going well and we’ve just got the promotion we wanted or met our soul mate.

    Life is not about what happens to us but how we react to it, and some of our biggest disappointments can lead to better things in life, bringing us new beginnings, if we learn to adapt and embrace change.  

    Expect life not to go to plan and then you won’t be so disappointed. Accept what is, look for the silver lining, and adapt. Keep looking for the good in every moment and learn from the tough ones.

    This is how we not only survive but thrive: by embracing each moment for what it is and choosing to make the best of it.

  • Happiness Is the New Rich

    Happiness Is the New Rich

  • How To Be Open-Minded When Others See the World Differently

    How To Be Open-Minded When Others See the World Differently

    “Most disagreements are caused by different perceptions that created different realities.” ~Unknown

    When I was thirteen, I experienced a monumental change in my young life.

    It wasn’t a big move, no one close to me died, and although puberty was rocking my world in the worst way, it was something else altogether that shook me to the core:

    The movie Titanic came out.

    I know, I know, it’s just a movie, and I was just another swooning teenager wishing that I was the one Jack never wanted to let go of, but it hit me hard. Truth, love, the pain of loss: a woman following her heart and risking it all for true love. I relished every second of its three hours and fifteen minute run time.

    So much that I saw it multiple times over winter break at school—usually with my equally enamored mom, sometimes with my best friend, always with a lump in my throat. I held back tears as I saw Jack’s face disappearing into the icy waters, always wondering why Rose couldn’t make room for him on the raft, each time imagining myself in the situation: falling in love, making tough choices, persevering through loss.

    (Spoiler alert: the ship sinks.)

    Returning to school a few weeks later, I knew I’d been changed. Titanic was helping me to sort out the girl I was from the woman I was becoming, and I figured it was having an equal effect on those around me. I was pleasantly surprised when I walked into class on the first day back at school and read an obviously related quote on the white board:

    “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” ~Tennyson

    I smiled inside, realizing that my eighth grade teacher must have seen Titanic too, feeling a kindred recognition of just how important this epic film was. After all, it was a sweeping success across the country, breaking records and hearts and box office sales.

    As I settled into my seat and he began to lecture, I prepared to listen to what his thoughts were about the film: maybe he had a historical critique, or an interpretation of the film’s depiction of the human condition?

    Oh, how wrong I was.

    It turns out that the local football team had gone to the super bowl during this same break, and while I was losing it over Jack and Rose, many others were losing it over this team’s big loss.

    As my teacher began to lecture and joke with classmates about “the value of making it to the super bowl at all” I hung my head in frustration and confusion. There was a life-changing movie in theatres, cataloguing one of the worst catastrophes in history. Why didn’t anyone care about this? Isn’t this quote on the board far more applicable to a love story than to a football team?

    Doesn’t everyone feel the way that I do??

    In retrospect, my Titanic example is funny (and somewhat ridiculous). Of course not everyone felt the same soul shaking connection to a movie, and of course not everyone had the newly awakened hormones of a teenage girl. (Say Leeeeoooo with some longing in a whispery voice, and you’ve got my thirteen-year-old daydreams pegged pretty well.)

    When we’re that young it’s easy to make major mistakes in our perception of others, but within this comical event are the seeds of an issue that would continue to show up, both in my life and others.

    There’s Imperfection in Perception

    My misinterpretation of a teacher’s quote on the board is an early mistake in “encoding” and “decoding.” Those two words are just fancy talk for the complicated interaction that is communication, and how they’re related to something called the “confirmation bias.”

    See, when I read those words on the white board, they confirmed something that I (unconsciously) assumed to be true: everyone cared about this thing that I did (ahem, Titanic, cough) and of course this quote about love must relate to it. The words on the board spoke to me in a way that I thought was universal: my thirteen-year-old brain knew exactly what they meant.

    When words are spoken, however (or written on a white board in eighth grade), the intention of the communicator can get lost in the understanding. When I say something to you, I’m “encoding” information that I want to communicate; I’m trying to get you to understand me.

    The trouble comes when we forget that each person understands (or “decodes”) information differently—we hear what we know, we hear what we want, and we hear what makes sense based on our life thus far.

    See, this variability in perception happens because each of us views the world through a slightly different lens. What the word “love” means to me could be different than what it means to you; for example, what has the word “love” meant in the past? Has it been controlling or unconditional, loaded with expectations or adoration?

    The actual words we use are simply a jumping off place, and then they’re strung together in beads of sentences that can appear a different color to each person listening. The “colors” (or meaning) we assign to words vary because all of us do; and because our minds are expert categorizers, we often understand things in a way that already makes sense with our existent worldview.

    It’s for this reason that two people can read the same news article and come away with different interpretations, or feel entirely different about the events going on in the world: We tend to pay attention to information that confirms what we already believe to be true, and disregard the rest of what we see. It’s not due to callousness either; it’s the way that we’re wired.

    Our brains are really good at simplifying and organizing. In order to cognitively make sense of a complicated and busy world, we have to become expert categorizers. This is adaptive, and it helps our overworked brains make sense of things.

    The hiccups only come when we forget that the way we’ve organized the world is different than the way that others have; when we assume that each person interprets the world and its events the way that we do.

    So, what do we do? If everyone could mean something different when they say “I love you” or “let’s go get some ice cream” then how on earth are we ever supposed to understand each other? Is all social coherence lost?

    The answer is simple, but not easy: We must keep an open (and present) mind.

    Open-mindedness

    Keeping an open mind is realizing that we all perceive the world that we live in differently. It’s remembering that when we read (or listen) we are “decoding” at the same time—trying to understand and make sense of information, all through our unique and limited worldview.

    It’s being patient when we feel misunderstood, and allowing for the possibility that we’re also misunderstanding others.

    Open-mindedness is being forgiving of people who hold different opinions and reminding ourselves that we’ve really only ever been one person; we don’t necessarily know what the world is like for others.

    Being open-minded is another form of mindfulness, really. It’s pausing before responding, and asking ourselves: What do I already believe to be true about this person, this event, this political party? What in my past is causing me to feel agitated, or generous, or suspicious? What does the person speaking to me actually mean?

    Even if we don’t always have the answers, simply allowing the questions to percolate our perception can open us up to the world around us.

    Not having answers also gives us the chance to ask questions; if we don’t know what someone means by a statement, we can ask them to clarify. If that’s not an option (because who likes to feed trolls on the internet, right?) then can we at least hold space for a worldview that varies from ours?

    Even if we don’t agree with it, even if it makes our blood boil, can we pause while we try to understand it? Slow down our categorizing minds and realize that the world looks different from varying angles?

    It’s difficult to pause when we’re agitated, but it’s definitely possible. Practicing mindfulness in communication (whether it’s with a loved one or a stranger on the internet) can give us space to ask these questions, extend our understanding, and allow for differences.

    Listening to an idea with an open mind is letting go of all the reasons it’s wrong, or right, and allowing the person (or words) to be what they are. It’s digesting things with the knowledge that we’re bringing our own “stuff” to the table; keeping in mind that our history colors each and every interaction we have.

    It’s a complicated world that we navigate, and there are benefits to the assumptions we jump to minute by minute. But in order to sift through assumptions we’ve first got to be aware of them, and that involves being vigilant of our monkey minds as often as possible. It involves pausing, taking a breath, and asking ourselves: Is this person talking about Titanic, or football?

  • How Embracing My Sexuality Helped Cure My Need to People Please

    How Embracing My Sexuality Helped Cure My Need to People Please

    “If you are busy pleasing everyone, you are not being true to yourself.” ~Jocelyn Murray

    The love I felt for her wasn’t like the romantic love our culture idealizes in books or movies. There was no moment where I knew that she was the one for me, and I didn’t feel lots of butterflies when our paths crossed.

    Instead, the love I felt for her was deep and sustaining. While she is one of the most kind, gentle, and loyal people I had ever met, the way she loved me was the most remarkable thing to me. I could be completely vulnerable with her and feel no shame. I felt supported and embraced. Through her love, I felt restored, and it deeply affected my sense of love and belonging.

    I was extremely surprised when I realized that I had romantic feelings for this woman. What fueled this surprise was the fact that I had always identified as being straight. While my mother is very accepting, the South—where I grew up—is not always the most supportive place for homosexuality. I felt shame from my religion, some friends and family, and myself.

    Unfortunately, I soon became aware that there was deep homophobia hidden within me. While most people would always describe me as accepting and liberal, there was a huge part of me that felt absolute shame for liking a female.

    What would all my conservative, religious family and friends think of me? Would they love me anymore? Was I going to hell? These were just some of the questions that ran through my mind.

    I came to a point where I realized that no matter what people thought, if the opportunity ever arose for us to be romantically together, I would seize it. I wouldn’t be ashamed due to her gender; in fact, I would love to shout it from the rooftops (or write about on Tiny Buddha), because even just the act of loving someone so incredibly beautiful has brought me tremendous joy and healing.

    Here are a few lessons I’ve learned through embracing this part of myself about the need to please and letting go of seeking approval.

    1. “You cannot live a brave life without disappointing someone.”

    I was watching an interview with Oprah and Brené Brown recently. Oprah said the exact statement written above. This hit me right in the heart. Surely this couldn’t be true. Do I really have to sometimes disappoint people to be brave? Like many humans, I have this need for people to constantly approve of me.

    I remember when I told one of my best friends about how I felt about this woman. I knew she would not agree with me being confused about my sexuality, and I was so unbelievably terrified. I was afraid I was going to lose one of the people I loved most in world.

    When I finally got the words out, she responded in a very kind way. Though she did make it known that this was not a part that she agreed with, she promised to love and support me through my journey. This brings me to my next lesson.

    2. Some people will not be okay with your decisions. Challenge yourself to be able to accept their position as well as your own.

    I was very aware that I had family and friends who were not going to approve of this part of me, but I was curious if I could still maintain the relationships.

    I realized that if I was not seeking approval, my friendships could continue to grow. I came to the realization that, while it was nice if everyone supported my decision, I really didn’t need every single person to agree with me. As long as they still chose to respect me and love me, their opinion on my choices were their business.

    That being said, I know it’s very difficult when close friends and family don’t agree with something fundamental to your sense of self, especially when it does not seem like they are going to change their opinion.

    I’m still in a process of learning how to handle this in a healthy way. I do know that when I am unfailingly kind and loving toward myself, it helps lessen the weight of other people’s opinions, because how I view myself comes first.

    3. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries

    This is one of the hardest things for people who seek approval to implement. I have found with this experience, I have to set boundaries for what behaviors I will tolerate concerning other’s reactions. This is applicable to all areas of life. It’s important to set boundaries as to what is okay and not okay in interacting with others.

    I will tolerate questions. I will tolerate confusion. I will tolerate respectful disagreement.

    I will not tolerate blatant rudeness. I will not tolerate ignorance. These are my boundaries. If people cross these boundaries, I will politely inform them that they have overstepped a line and I will not be participating in a discussion with them concerning this topic anymore.

    4. I want to choose to be vulnerable every day no matter how hard it feels.

    There are times in my life that I have regretted not being 100% authentic. But not once when I look back, have I ever regretted being vulnerable.

    Sometimes it doesn’t feel the greatest afterward. I call that a “vulnerability hangover.” It feels like this giant pit in my stomach and I feel tired, but eventually it goes away. While they usually seem scary, the best decisions in my life have usually also been the most vulnerable ones.

    I don’t believe in defining my success on external factors such as getting a job, getting married, and traveling the world. Instead, I aim every day to be more vulnerable and braver than the last. There will be days I will fail and hide behind fear, and that’s okay, because I am imperfect and filled with flaws. On the days that I do choose to be honest and open, I feel like my soul is on fire.

     5. Be willing to refine who you are.

    When I first wrote down this lesson it read, “Be willing to redefine who you are.” But, I realized that I don’t think we can, or even need to, “redefine” who we are. Instead, I believe we should refine the already beautifully imperfect person we have become.

    When I realized that I liked this woman, it made me examine myself differently. I had always seen this picture of me being with a man. All of the sudden that story seemed very fuzzy now. It actually brought a bit at sadness at first and I let it be. This picture of my relationship for the future came shattering down, and I realized that I didn’t want to pick up the broken pieces. Instead, I want to create a new picture. Except this time, I want to refine it day by day and let it be ever-changing.

    6. Do what’s best for you first and everyone will benefit.

    I’ve learned that self-love is like a waterfall. When I am doing what is best for me and feels right in my truth, it trickles down to the people in my life.

    I have found that when I am living authentically and loving myself, my actions toward others are more loving and honest. While I still may not be or act exactly how someone wants me to, if my intention is loving, that’s all that matters. When you act in an authentic way, everybody wins.

    I don’t know what the future holds for me—much less my love life—but I am confident that whatever it holds will be beautiful, because it will be honest, vulnerable, and authentic. More importantly, it will be beautiful, because my decision won’t be based on someone’s opinion of me. It will be my truth and my story.

  • How to Make Anxiety A Lot Less Painful

    How to Make Anxiety A Lot Less Painful

    “You are not a mess. You are a feeling person in a messy world.” ~Glennon Doyle Melton

    Anxiety can be hardwired and genetic. It can be passed down from generation to generation. It can be a result of trauma and high-stress scenarios, including divorce, moving, and death. These things are out of our control, and can be really challenging to work through.

    But, anxiety can also come as a result of certain behaviors, lifestyle choices, and beliefs that you have about yourself and the world. And that, my friend, is always within your control.

    I want to challenge the way you’re thinking about anxiety. Take a moment to ask yourself the following questions:

    What thoughts, beliefs, and behaviors are leading to my anxiety? How can I address these behaviors and change the beliefs, thoughts, or emotions that create the anxiety to begin with?

    I used to have really extreme experiences with anxiety. I would wake up feeling this pit in my stomach, like something really terrible was about to happen at any moment. Except… everything was fine.

    I had a good job, I was making a decent amount of money, I had a nice apartment, I was in a seemingly good relationship, and it seemed like everything was working out in my favor.

    On the outside, I seemed fine, but on the inside, I was dreading getting out of bed in the morning. Sometimes I literally couldn’t get out of bed in the morning. I would call my manager and tell her I was having a rough start to the day (again) and would be in as soon as I was “back to normal.”

    My breath would become choppy. My heart would race. My palms would sweat. My hands would shake. My thoughts would bounce between “What the heck’s wrong with you?” to “Why can’t you just suck it up and go to work?” and from “Am I going to have a heart attack?” to “Do I need to go back to the doctor again today?”

    I had anxiety, and I felt so pathetic about it. I felt guilty for not being more appreciative of all the things that were going right in my life. I hated myself for feeling anxious. I hated myself because I thought there was something really wrong with me that would never get better.

    It wasn’t until I realized that I had the whole situation backward that I was able to start making changes.

    I realized that it wasn’t the anxiety itself that was causing me to suffer—it was the way I was thinking about and engaging with the anxiety that was the issue. 

    Here’s the thing: Anxiety is a normal human emotion that serves an evolutionary purpose. It’s a feeling that we get when something is threatening us. Anxiety is an emotion that serves as a trigger to activate our fight-or-flight response in response to a dangerous situation. So it’s normal to feel anxiety, and just because you may feel anxious doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you.

    How we think about our anxiety is what will create our relationship to the emotion itself. 

    If every time you feel anxious you think negative thoughts about yourself, then you send yourself into a downward spiral of guilt, shame, anger, depression, and even more anxiety. You feel more anxious just because you’re anxious.

    But if you can reframe your thoughts to come from a place of positivity and love, everything changes. Instead of feeling like you’re broken or there’s something that needs to be fixed, you start to recognize that it’s natural to have an emotion like anxiety, and that you don’t need to engage with it in a negative, self-hating way.

    You can simply acknowledge its presence, try to notice what caused it, and non-judgmentally let it go. 

    Once we become conscious of our limiting beliefs and fears around anxiety, we can choose to see things differently.

    We can train our brains to know that anxiety is a part of life, and that it doesn’t dictate our worth as a human being.

    We can choose to reframe our beliefs to become more positive, accepting, and loving, in order to go easier on ourselves when we do experience anxiety.

    And we can take action steps toward living a life that is in more balance, with less anxiety and stress, and more happiness every day.

    By becoming aware of our thoughts and beliefs around anxiety and fear, we can consciously choose which beliefs are empowering and get to stay, and which are blocking our growth so that we can release them. Because here’s the bitter truth:

    Your thoughts about anxiety can cause you to suffer more than experiencing the anxiety itself.

    A while back, I got really interested in anxiety and my mindset overall. I started working with a coach who helped me understand on a more practical level the lessons I had learned from all the books I’d read: that your thoughts create your reality, and you are always in control of your thoughts.

    I started to reframe my thoughts about anxiety and shifted the lens through which I see the world from one of lack/fear to one of abundance/love.

    My life hasn’t been the same since.

    I still experience anxiety and fear—OMG, I experience so much fear! Running my own business feels approximately like: 50% singing in my shower and dancing around my apartment to Katy Perry and 50% wanting to hide in a cave for the rest of my life and never emerge again. But my relationship to anxiety and fear has changed, because my mindset has changed. I no longer see my anxiety as a crippling force in my life that I desperately want to get rid of.

    I now see anxiety as a gift, as a sign from the Universe that something is off balance in my life, and I feel grateful for having all of the tools I need to get back into balance. It is now my mission to help you do the same.

    So when you feel anxiety, check in with yourself on what your thoughts and beliefs around anxiety are. Do you talk down to yourself for feeling anxious? Do you judge yourself or criticize yourself? Can you be more compassionate instead? Do you believe you are an anxious person? Can you be willing to see yourself as something different?

    By becoming aware of the stories we tell ourselves about how we are and how the world is, we can consciously choose which stories serve us, and which need to be rewritten. You have the power to rewrite your anxiety story. The question is: will you do it?

  • What It Means to Be Loyal to Yourself and Why We All Need to Do It

    What It Means to Be Loyal to Yourself and Why We All Need to Do It

    “This above all: to thine own self be true. And it must follow, as night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” ~William Shakespeare

    A little while ago, a friend gave me a compliment that stopped me in my tracks. “I really admire how loyal you are to yourself.”

    In time-honored self-questioning mode, I immediately thought, “Oh my gosh, what does that mean? Does she think I’m selfish?” But once I decided not to go down that road, I started pondering what it might mean to be loyal to one’s self, and how it truly is the basis for a happier and more peaceful life. Here’s why.

    1. When you’re loyal to yourself, you take the time to know yourself.

    Usually we’re great at knowing the people around us—what the kids watch on TV, how the boss likes her coffee, what our partners find sexy—and have very little idea of what actually brings us joy. And even if we do, how often do we give it priority?

    You don’t have to be a raging egotist to value your own happiness as much as you do the neighbors’ kids’ friend’s pet rabbit, but you might think that was the case if you really examined how you allocate your time and energy. Usually it seems that everyone else—everyone—comes ahead of us. Being loyal to yourself means that you not only know what makes you happy, but you actually make sure you get enough of it to feel happy.

    For instance, in my case it means I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m an introvert, and have stopped trying to make myself behave like an extrovert.

    I’m being loyal to myself when I turn down social opportunities that I know will exhaust me, and then go a step further by refusing to put myself down for being “less than.” This is key! It kind of misses the point if we do something to take care of ourselves but then beat ourselves up for being lazy or selfish or even just different.

    2. You like yourself!

    That’s a stretch for a lot of us. We are often so much harder on ourselves than we would be on anyone else. Listen to how you talk to yourself routinely. Do you encourage and congratulate yourself, or only berate and exhort? Would you ever dream of talking to a child that way?

    Being loyal to yourself means treating yourself gently, being kind and forgiving and generous. Seeing the good, and not just what we wish were different. Why is that so hard for us to do?

    Maybe we think that we’ll never amount to anything if we don’t ride ourselves hard, but honestly, when did you ever find that kind of treatment motivating? We deserve better from ourselves.

    3. You honor your own feelings.

    Again, we are usually overly sensitive to others’ feelings and only too ready to deny or minimize our own. It’s possible to honor your feelings without either acting them out inappropriately or wallowing in them. It simply means that you are willing to pay attention to them, and to let them matter to you at least as much as everyone else’s feelings.

    The biggest problem with prioritizing others’ feelings is that, unlike our own feelings, we have to guess about theirs. How do we really know? I spent many, many unprofitable hours in the past trying to figure out what other people thought about me. For some reason, I didn’t spend nearly as much time asking myself what I thought about them!

    It’s incredibly liberating to get this one straight. When I’m loyal to myself, I care more about how I feel and a lot less about trying to figure out everyone else’s feelings. And strangely, the more I do this, the more other people seem to like me (hence the compliment from my friend).

    There’s something very appealing about people who are simply honest and straightforward with their feelings. Others feel relaxed and at ease around them, because they can trust that there are no hidden agendas to figure out.

    4. This honesty also allows you to be a more authentic version of yourself.

    When you aren’t worrying so much about how others see you, you can show them who you really are. Not everyone will love you, it’s true—but those who do will be loving the real you, not the one you made up for public consumption. This you is actually much more interesting, anyway!

    We lose so much when we trade in authenticity for social approval. We lose our spontaneity and zest for life. We lose confidence in our own judgment and taste. We lose ourselves, sometimes forever. And the world loses the contribution that only we can make.

    When I started being loyal to my true, authentic self, I felt both scared and exhilarated. I wasn’t sure that other people would truly like and accept the strange, quirky person I knew myself to be at heart, but I liked myself ever so much better than when I was playing a phony part.

    It takes a ton of energy to police your every word and action! When I stopped playing the role I thought was expected and started doing what I really wanted to do, I unleashed an incredible flow of creativity and joy.

    5. And here’s the best part: You give other people permission to be loyal to themselves as well.

    This makes the world a better place to be. The authentic self that you show the world calls out to the authentic selves in the people all around you. This is what we’re born for—relationships formed between two people who are being who they really, truly are. This kind of relationship will blow the socks off of any other relationship you’ve had.

    We show others how to treat us by the way we treat ourselves. When you’re loyal to yourself—when you know and like yourself, honor your own feelings, and show up in an authentic way—it only makes you better able to love others as well. Self-love and self-honesty are the necessary foundations for love and honesty in any relationship. As Shakespeare wrote, you can’t be false to others when you remain true to yourself.

    Ask yourself these questions frequently: Is this what I really want? How do I really feel in this situation?

    You might still choose to prioritize a loved one’s needs at times, but it will be a freely made choice, not an obligation, blind habit or manipulative ploy. You will make better decisions, based on who you really are. You will feel happier and more at peace, with yourself and the world.

    All because you have chosen to be loyal to yourself.

  • Overcoming a Negative Body Image: 4 Things to Remember

    Overcoming a Negative Body Image: 4 Things to Remember

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with an account of anorexia and may be triggering to some people.

    “You will never be free until you free yourself from the prison of your own false thoughts.” ~Philip Arnold

    I really don’t remember my life before anorexia. I think back to my early teenage years when I ate peanut butter sandwiches and drank hot chocolate without a single thought of how many calories I had consumed. There was no guilt, no worry, no need for perfection. How I wish I could get those carefree moments back.

    A few years ago anorexia completely distorted my perception of myself. All it took was one seemingly innocent comment from my classmate: Haven’t you gained weight recently? From that moment on, I no longer saw a healthy, fit person when I looked into the mirror. All I saw was an imperfect body.

    Meticulous calorie counting, diet restriction, and exercise time logging began to fill day after day. I wasn’t living as a human, but rather as an engineer treating my body as a machine. I loved myself for every pound I lost, every piece of clothing that felt a bit looser, and every little bit of food I managed to leave on my plate.

    I felt like a crazy person because my reasonable self knew that I shouldn’t be starving myself and exercising ridiculous number of hours every single day. I knew exactly what was wrong with me except there was nothing wrong.

    Somewhere in the evolution of the illness, I lost control. I ate one apple a day, drank only water, ran ten miles every morning, did squats and push-ups while studying, and paced in my room instead of sleeping. Nobody asked any questions, so I didn’t provide any answers.

    And then one day I was finally rewarded with my target weight glowing on the scale. I had done it! The hard work had paid off and I was free. Or so I thought. The control I now had over my body was deceiving. Once I reached my target weight, I couldn’t stop. The rush was too inviting. Every extra pound lost felt like a victory.

    You Don’t Notice You’re Losing Control Until It’s Lost

    When I looked into the mirror, I saw my ribs with their thinly stretched coating of papery skin, and every single hump of the spine as I bent over. People began to whisper. The doctors told me that I wouldn’t survive if I didn’t start eating. But I was proud. Every comment about how skinny I was felt like an accomplishment. My insecure self was at rest only when I met all so high standards I set for myself. It felt like a prison I couldn’t get out of.

    The prison was in my head. If at some point I was controlling everything related to food and body image, now I had lost control and the illness controlled me.

    I was hungry, cold, tired, and unable to pick myself up. The voice inside my head was telling me that nothing I did was good enough. If I ate a salad, I shouldn’t have had it. If I went for a walk, I hadn’t walked far enough. I pushed my body to the point that I collapsed.

    Since I’m at a healthy weight now, people ask me how I overcame anorexia. The truth is that the recovery didn’t happen overnight, and not without relapses. It took a lot of tears and struggling, but eventually I stopped drowning. I chose to step out of my self-imposed prison, with the help of friends, family, and a counselor.

    I was fortunate enough to have the support of loving parents who were there when things were hard, when I wanted to give up because I felt too fat, when I needed somebody to remind me that recovery was worth it. And more importantly, that I was worth it.

    It was a taxing mental battle that still at times rages within me. The old eating disorder voice creeps up sometimes, but I now recognize that voice as irrational and destructive. I’m learning to ignore it. I’m learning to quit running away from myself.

    4 Things to Remember When You’re Under the Spell of a Negative Body Image

    Negative thoughts about your body consume you. They take and take and take. To recover, you essentially have to figure out who you are again. You have to build yourself up from the smallest bits of what you know of yourself. You have to differentiate yourself from the condemning voice. Here are some of the things I learned (and had to embrace) on my way to recovery.

    1. Not all thoughts are facts.

    The problem with a negative self-image is that it feels like a fact. You can easily convince yourself of something that is not true. Even at 5’7” and my lowest weight (ninety pounds), I believed that I needed to be thinner.

    I felt that my waist wasn’t slim enough, my arms weren’t toned enough, and my thighs weren’t narrow enough. My mind was a very thorough liar, and there was nothing anyone could say to convince me otherwise.

    If I hadn’t learned about these lies and how to discern them, I would probably never have gotten out of that vicious cycle.

    You might have a hard time discerning truth from lies in the beginning, so instead of questioning whether your thoughts are facts, ask yourself which ones serve you and which do not.

    Growing up with an athletic sister, most of my negative thoughts evolved around my body. I could objectively say that although I was very thin, I wasn’t particularly lean. So I signed up for a gym membership and started lifting weights.

    However, what was initially a constructive thought—that it would serve me to build muscle—turned into an obsession within a few months.

    I remember standing in a basement gym, pushing a heavy barbell above my head, when I realized I was crying. I let my tears roll down my cheeks and focused back on the barbell. I had to finish my workout. I was exhausted and hungry from all the workouts I put my body through every single day, but all I could think of were toned arms and washboard abs.

    I think I knew long before that day that my desire for a lean body was no longer serving me. However, I couldn’t stop exercising. I had to sweat. I had to feel my heart race. My life revolved around my fitness routines.

    I knew then I needed to challenge the thoughts that told me I wasn’t lean or fit enough, and adjust accordingly.

    That isn’t to say that I stopped working out altogether. There are days I still experience anxiety when I know I won’t be able to get to the gym. But any time a destructive thought about my not-so-toned body pops up, I remind myself this doesn’t serve me and do my best to let it go and focus on something more positive. I may not have the leanest body, but I am more than just my physique.

    2. Absolute control is an illusion.

    Eating disorders are all about control. Control issues with what goes into your body and what comes out of your body. It’s about exerting control over at least one aspect of your life. However, it’s an illusion. In fact, you may feel in control, but be very out of control. The more successful you are at exerting control over how much food you take in, the less control you actually have. The eating disorder and twisted ideals are controlling you.

    Right before I hit rock bottom, I was paralyzed with fear and crippled with anxiety. I needed the eating disorder. I needed the identity and illusionary control it gave me. If I felt I got everything under perfect control, I felt strong. Paradoxically, that’s when I ended up under the doctors’ and my parents’ supervision, with no control over my food intake.

    Letting go of control was the hardest part. I would be lying if I said I no longer struggle. However, I’m much better at reminding myself that the greatest control is in letting go of the need for it.

    3. Perfectionism is unattainable.

    Perfectionism goes beyond doing your best. It’s about setting extremely high standards that are unrealistic. In my perpetual quest for perfection, I believed I could meet those high standards. I strived for perfection in my studies, relationships, cleanliness, exercise, and diet. Mediocrity was unsatisfactory. It was all or nothing.

    Perfection is so addictive because it locks you into thinking that if you do everything perfectly, you can minimize the feelings of pain and judgment. But the truth is, you can’t. There will always be people in your life who judge you no matter what you do or what you say.

    The one thing you can do is to surrender. Accept that you are work in progress. Embrace all parts of yourself, even those that seem “imperfect” to you. Practice forgiveness and self-compassion. And most importantly, be patient. Adopting new patterns of thinking takes time, but the work is worth it.

    4. Food isn’t the enemy.

    The difficulty with negative body image is that it’s closely tied to weight (and therefore, food). But unlike a drug addict, you can’t avoid the trigger. You can’t simply avoid food for the rest of your life, although it is very tempting to adopt the mindset that the fewer calories you eat, the better.

    In that sense, healthy eating literally saved my life. Fueling my body with simple whole foods shifted my focus from calorie counting to nourishment. Instead of weighing myself several times a day, I focused on my health.

    At times, I still pay attention to how my clothes fit and how I look in the mirror, but food is no longer the enemy. It’s the means to achieve the good health we all find so radiantly beautiful—glowing skin, shiny hair, and a fit, strong body.

    Silencing the Voice

    Do I still struggle at times? Yes. However, when my negative thoughts and struggles reappear, I no longer let them run my life. I recognize them as something I must overcome. There are days that I have to make a conscious effort to eat and not panic when the scale shows an increase. But thankfully, I know the price of letting fear take over my life.

    I know that one day I’ll be able to step on the scale and not cringe at the numbers that appear in front of me. One day, I’ll be able to eat a meal without thinking about calories. One day, my mind will be completely free. Until that day, I keep silencing that voice.

  • We Can Choose Different Ways Without One of Us Being Wrong

    We Can Choose Different Ways Without One of Us Being Wrong

    “You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.” ~Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

    Many of us are committed to a journey of change and personal growth. While these are traits to be admired and celebrated, they can also have a darker side. We can become a little militant and dogmatic when we’re on our journeys.

    As we focus on our attempts to make changes in our own lives, our views can start to narrow and become very black and white. We become so tuned into what we are doing that we forget there’s more than one way to do just about anything.

    We seek out others that agree with us to back up ‘our views.’ This may be part of our primal wiring to be part of a collective. We seek a tribe.

    Being part of a tribe can be intoxicating. Being with people that share our passion is exciting. It’s great to have a common goal or view and be able to talk about our passions with others that really get it. We’re all in this together.

    Being in a tribe can also distort our perspective. Only seeing and hearing a biased view. Ironically, we can lose objectivity as we seek clarity. Becoming more rigid as we search for methods and hacks.

    Or maybe we enjoy citing this study or that to ‘prove’ our point. Using science (bad science oftentimes) as our weapon of choice to make ourselves feel and sound knowledgeable.

    Both these traits can lead to us becoming dogmatic, thinking our way is the only way.

    A Personal Example or Two

    I notice this habit of falling back on dogma for a good reason—I do it myself.

    An example would be my approach to exercise.

    I choose to keep myself strong with my own bodyweight (calisthenics). The ability to use one’s own body through space is impressive to me and I feel it’s the ultimate expression of strength. Not everyone shares this view of course. Many others enjoy hoisting large amounts of iron or swinging a kettlebell.

    As I have deepened my own practice of bodyweight training and enjoyed the benefits it brings, I have also found myself judging the way others exercise at times. Shaking my head at people in the gym I perceive to be doing something silly or dangerous.

    Another favorite, quoting from a famous fitness authority or studies to hammer home a point, perhaps how repeated loading of the spine with weights can have negative connotations. Or how balancing on a bosu ball has little carryover to anything other than balancing on a bosu ball.

    Why do I do this? I’ve chosen my route, why do I feel the need to judge the way others choose to exercise? I’m certainly no expert.

    Another example would be my journey into simplicity and applying 80/20 principles to my life. Several years ago I realized I was accumulating more in my life. More things that didn’t really matter to me or speak to me on a spiritual level. Life felt more complicated than I wanted it to be.

    In response, I started to make some changes. It’s a journey I’ve documented previously on Tiny Buddha. The upshot of these changes has been that the quality of my own life has improved significantly. There is more focus and clarity in my life.

    Along the way, as I’ve traveled further down the rabbit hole of simplicity, I find myself casting a weary eye at others oftentimes. Judging them for complicating things, or not grasping the power in simple, or for not saying no to commitments they have no capacity to keep.

    None of this is useful to them, none of it is useful for my internal energy. Yet, still I have to fight this pull to judge. Justifying it somehow as me now knowing better. How arrogant and self-righteous this all sounds as I write the words, and for good reason—it is.

    Your Journey is Your Journey

    No need to complicate things. Personal journeys should be personal. Let’s be clear, we’re not in competition and even if we are, it’s with ourselves.

    You can call yourself a minimalist if you like, but owning less than your neighbor doesn’t automatically make you a better person.

    You can call yourself a mindfulness advocate and commit to daily meditation, but not everyone needs a formal meditative practice to be mindful. Equally, not everyone with a daily meditative practice is mindful.

    You can choose to strengthen your body by lifting your own body if you like, but it’s fine if someone else chooses to push weights or rocks instead.

    You can choose to follow a Paleo diet without bashing vegans, or vice versa. People can, and do, thrive on many diets as the Blue Zones around the world already prove.

    You can choose to follow a religion that calls to you, but you can do that without damning someone else who follows a different faith.

    You can choose to do all of this quietly in your own way. Or you can choose to share what you are doing with others in the hope of inspiring them to join you, or support you on your journey. If you share, let’s drop any degree of superiority or smugness. No need to hide behind dogma or use it as a weapon to fire at others.

    Follow your passions in life, embrace them, and really enjoy them, but be aware that others are just as passionate about their passions. Leave the dogma behind and remember, there are many routes to the top of any mountain.

    Note: This post is as much a reminder to myself as it is to you. I hope to rid myself of this affliction to hide behind dogma at times. If you notice me doing it, please feel free to remind me of these words. 😉

  • Book Giveaway: Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal and The Self-Love Experiment

    Book Giveaway: Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal and The Self-Love Experiment

    UPDATE: The winners for this giveaway are Alexandra Martinez and Kathy Kortegaard.

    Happy October, friends! Over the past several months since I launched Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal, I’ve been excited to receive some wonderful feedback on the thought-provoking prompts and questions, and the coloring pages.

    I decided to create this journal because adopting a gratitude practice has been life changing for me; it’s shifted my perspective, boosted my mood, and enabled me to hold on to optimism during some of the darkest times of my life.

    And I chose to include coloring pages because I’ve been obsessed with adult coloring since it became a thing. Sitting with my markers and a book with intricate pictures or mandalas, I feel relaxed, completely focused on the present, and joyfully connected to the creative part of my brain.

    If you haven’t yet picked up a copy—or if you’d like an extra for a friend—now’s your chance to win one.

    And because the best gratitude practice is rooted in appreciation for yourself, I’m also giving away a copy of my good friend Shannon Kaiser’s new book The Self-Love Experiment.

    About Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal

    This flexibound interactive journal includes questions and prompts to help you reflect on everything that’s worth appreciating in your life.

    Sprinkled throughout the journal are fifteen coloring pages depicting ordinary, often overlooked objects that enhance our lives, with space for written reflection on the page.

    Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal will help you recognize your blessings, focus on the positive, and foster optimism so you can be your best, happiest self every day.

    About The Self-Love Experiment

    Whether you want to lose weight, land your dream job, find your soul mate, or get out of debt, it all starts with self-love.

    Shannon Kaiser learned the secrets to loving herself, finding purpose, and living a passion-filled life after recovering from an eating disorder, drug addiction, corporate burnout, and depression. She walks you through her own personal experiment, a simple plan that compassionately guides you through the process of removing fear-based thoughts, so you can fall in love with life.

    If you want to change your outcome in life, you have to change your daily habits and perspective. The Self-Love Experiment will help you do just that.

    The Giveaway

    To enter to win a copy of Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal or a copy of The Self-Love Experiment:

    • Leave a comment below sharing something you’re grateful for today or something you appreciate about yourself (or both!)
    • For an extra entry, share the link to this giveaway on one of your social media pages and include that link in a second comment

    You can enter until midnight, PST, on Sunday, October 8th. Books will ship during the week of October 16th (as I’ll be on vacation before then).

    If you’d rather not wait to grab both of these books you can find Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal on Amazon here, and The Self-Love Experiment here.

    FTC Disclosure: I receive complimentary books for reviews and interviews on tinybuddha.com, but I am not compensated for writing or obligated to write anything specific. I am an Amazon affiliate, meaning I earn a percentage of all books purchased through the links I provide on this site. 

  • Why Self-Compassion Is the Key to Living the Life You Want

    Why Self-Compassion Is the Key to Living the Life You Want

    “The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.” ~Carl Rogers

    When was the last time you stopped trying to improve something about yourself or your life?

    I’ve spent a lot of my life chasing goals. I guess it goes with the territory as a cancer survivor who always felt like she had something to prove, even twenty years later.

    For everything the doctors told me I could not do because of my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma (or as a result of the chemotherapy that healed me), I gave my all to accomplish and strive until I’d shown them they were wrong.

    Can’t run a marathon because you’ve incurred lung damage? “You can do anything you set your mind to” was my mantra to run not just one, but five marathons.

    Except that guess what? I was not just a goal setter. I was a perpetually unsatisfied goal setter. No matter what I did, or how much I told myself I was engaging in “healthy striving” as Brené Brown writes, it was never enough.

    I thought that I’d put my goal-setting ways behind me when I found my yoga practice and tried learning to surf.

    These adventures propelled me into a level of inquiry and a journey to find clarity and purpose with determination instead of expectation. It was about the big and little moments, I told myself. The learning, the feedback, the process—dropping attachments to live with more intention.

    In many ways it made sense. I spent eighteen months trying to rid myself of cancer. I was so supremely focused on the final destination of going into remission and then being cured that it seemed superfluous to notice anything that happened along the way. It finally occurred to me that I’d lived most of my life in denial instead of in acceptance—always trying to forge ahead instead of face the present moment.

    But guess what? As much as I tried to walk the walk, there was still a subtle, underlying thread of needing to improve that ran through my veins.

    Even my yoga—the practice that I equate to the ultimate masterclass in acceptance—was driven by subliminal expectations.

    Take, for instance, my heart-centered intention to strengthen my (non-existent) inversion practice. I told myself that flying upside down symbolized me being able to support myself. I’d labeled it as an intention, but the more I worked on it, the more I realized my focus that was cloaked by a belief that my core was too weak to magically levitate into a headstand or a “simple” arm balance. One goal (hidden in an intention costume), had veered stealthily into a scarcity mindset.

    And once that mindset takes hold, it spreads quickly and without discrimination into a constant echo of pervasive thoughts.

    I’d tried (many times) to use the mantra “I am exactly where I need to be in this moment.” On my yoga mat, in my work, and in my relationships. But nothing worked to help me flip the switch away from the gaps in my success and towards the celebration of the present moment and progress.

    And then summer happened.

    I had time in my schedule and I started to wonder, maybe I am supposed to use this season of my life to practice acceptance. Maybe all of my free-time isn’t a judgment or an indicator of lack of progress but is an opportunity to nourish and nourish myself.

    What if instead of wanting to be something that I wasn’t, I actually needed to nurture my practice (and life) with more tenderness? Could I be grateful and give myself permission to find nourishment instead of judgment?

    A friend encapsulated my thinking. She remarked simply: It sounds as if you are noticing self-compassion instead of self-improvement.

    Wow. Yes. That was it!

    What if acceptance, transformation, and progress have nothing to do with self-improvement?

    What if true acceptance of the present moment and long-term transformation were actually powered by the process of nurturing myself with the nourishment of love and kindness?

    “Build inner strength instead of outer dependencies.” ~Danielle LaPorte

    Suddenly these words and ideas started to appear everywhere. Each of these messages or examples reminded me of what happens when you nurture the parts of you that matter most and nourish my your spirit with what feels delicious. The universe was sending me nudge after nudge—it was up to me to notice and pay attention.

    Yes, I meditated daily. Yes, I was writing my morning pages each day. Yes, I was starting each work day thinking about how I wanted to feel when I went to sleep at night. But was I actively and intentionally nurturing the deeper layers of me with nourishment that was aligned to my values and dharma?

    So often we think about compassion as something we need to have for others, but what about ourselves? I’m good at taking care of everyone else, but somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that my heart and soul needed the same gift of understanding and compassion—and that I was the only one that could supply the unique medicine it needed.

    What if the magic to creating the change you want in your life is less about self-improvement and more about self-compassion?

    Now, don’t get me wrong. We all have desires. Those are not going away (nor should they).

    But desire should not be our compass for daily life. Our values and life’s purpose are vastly more powerful navigational tools.

    So if not desire or self-improvement, then what?

    Imagine for a moment what it would feel like to go to bed tonight believing that you’d nourished and nurtured your mind, body, and spirit with the simple acknowledgment that you are exactly where you need to be in this moment.

    How would your day be different if you gave yourself permission to be as you are, replacing judgment or labels with awareness and presence?

    A funny thing happened when I started to make nurturing and nourishment my focus.

    I made food choices with intention and then noticed how I felt afterward.

    I chose tender yoga practices instead of heat-building ones.

    I trusted that I was actively planting seeds each day to cultivate connection and relationships rather than waiting for opportunities to present themselves.

    I considered the open times in my schedule as opportunities to play with my daughter and puppy instead of criticizing myself.

    I chose to read instead of watch television. My to-do lists became less cluttered and more aligned with my values.

    Ideas started to flow more freely. My stillness practice felt deeper. I noticed sounds, colors, and scents with more boldness.

    And most importantly? I felt hope inside of me and remembered that everything I’ve ever thought I “needed” was already inside me, just waiting to be revealed.

    4 Steps to Practice Nurturing and Nourishing Yourself with Self-Compassion

    1. Tune into your awareness. 

    No, I’m not going to add to the number of articles that you’ve read that says you need to meditate. But deepening your connection to yourself means becoming aware of the physical sensations and emotions that you feel each day instead of letting the millions of thoughts that travel through your mind each day take over.

    It can be as simple as pausing at the end of a task or activity. Notice how your body feels without rushing to label what you are sensing as good or bad. This might take practice, and it might be subtle at first. Invite your body to be a benevolent messenger of information even for sensations that feel less than delicious.

    2. Ask yourself: What is going right in this moment? 

    This gratitude practice helps you move from noticing the gaps toward the celebration of wins big and small.

    When I went surfing recently, our instructor encouraged us to make a big first pump after every wave we “caught” regardless of how long we rode the wave of energy or whether we stayed on our belly or popped up. Noticing the victories—no matter the size or magnitude—sends a message that the journey is more important than the final destination.

    3. Check in with your truth: Is your day full of “have to’s” or “want to’s”?

    This is a big one. Making a list of priorities and things to do can be a great tool to stay focused, except when everything on that list is out of alignment with your values.

    Sure, there are some things in life that just have to get done. Maybe you can ask for help with tasks that bring up intuitive flags, or maybe you can find some aspect of the task to get excited about and change the perspective. Or maybe, you can simply let that task go.

    Recently, a friend asked me if I’d be at one of our favorite power vinyasa classes. As much as I wanted to see my friend, I noticed a gentle tug in my heart and I took a moment to get quiet and check in with my truth.

    That class felt like a should, based on a belief that I needed to keep up with the practice that I’d depended on to build physical and mental strength. But what I was really craving was something quieter. Something that would nourish that which was hidden. A yin practice. So I said no and cherished a nurturing and nourishing home practice, knowing that I could make plans to see my friend another time.

    4. Make a list of what feels delicious to your heart, mind, and body and then let yourself PLAY. 

    Do you love coffee? Find a lovely new cafe for a midday treat.

    Does paddleboarding light you up? Rent one or take a class.

    Play—even quiet activities like going for an evening walk, taking a bath, or spending an evening reading—nourishes the heart and mind. In fact, play helps inspire creativity and often makes us more productive, even when we’ve taken time off to engage in the activity.

    —

    Can it really be that easy? Four steps to cultivate self-compassion as the ultimate tool for living the life you really crave?

    Well, no. These practices are never easy. It is a practice for a reason, mainly that it takes daily effort. But believing that you have everything you need already inside you offers a transformational opportunity to nurture, nourish, and accept the reflection that you see in the mirror as this moment’s best version of you.