Tiny Buddha

Tag: Happiness

  • Why We Should Stop Trying

    Why We Should Stop Trying

    Boy Relaxing

    “If only we’d stop trying to be happy, we could have a pretty good time.” ~Edith Wharton

    Several years ago a well-known Zen Master accepted me as a long distance student. In one of our first email exchanges I wrote, “Dear Teacher, I am trying to sit every day for thirty minutes and in my practice I am trying to follow my breath.”

    “Please,” he wrote back, “stop trying. You are your breath.”

    I remember reading his words and feeling perplexed, confused, almost annoyed. What in the world did he mean? Wasn’t it obvious that we had no choice but to be our breath?

    Weren’t we all breathing beings? And how did “being breath” in the end relate to my life, to my meditation, to my hope of becoming a better human being, to my daily chores of diapers and laundry?

    When my teacher’s words arrived, getting to the mat was a huge effort. My meditation was at the mercy of my three young kids and my husband, who had to agree to watch them for the half-hour I would shut myself in the basement.

    Most of the time I found myself making “deals” such as: “If you watch the kids for me, I’ll watch them for you while you go running” or “I promise I’ll do all the cooking and the dishes tonight!”

    Once I finally managed to get to the meditation mat, I would set the timer and start counting my breath: one (breathe in), two (breathe out), three (breathe in), four (breathe out), five (breathe in), six (breathe out), seven (breathe in)…

    Needless to say, my thoughts would immediately jump in and I would find myself losing track of my breath and my counting. I would have to start back from number one, only to see the distractions appear all over again. I don’t remember ever getting to number ten.

    Not only was carving out thirty minutes for meditation a huge effort, even the apparently simple task of counting the breaths revealed itself to be an exhausting endeavor.

    I knew at an intuitive level that it shouldn’t have been like that—I knew that my teacher was right—but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I was doing wrong.

    It took me eight year  and many major life crises, failures, losses, and illnesses to understand the meaning of his words.

    Now that my life has fallen apart like I never thought it would or could, I know what my Zen teacher meant: I was trying too hard.

    I can now see that in my meditation I was not actually “following” my breath. I was trying, very hard, to catch it. I was chasing it. I was trying to grasp it, trying to hold onto it, trying to make it fit into my orderly numbered, counting boxes.

    I was trying so hard to reign it in. I was trying so hard to control it.

    Once I realized that, it only took a moment of self-honesty and one quick look at myself to see how that same impulse to control my breath was operating in all aspects of my life.

    I was “trying” to be a good mom and always promptly responded to my kids’ needs, even when their needs could have probably waited just a bit longer—enough, maybe, to give me a chance to finish a chore or a much treasured cup of tea.

    I was “trying” to be a good wife and “tried” to always be available for conversation, even when all I wanted and most needed was some quiet time to myself or simply some peace to concentrate on cooking dinner.

    I was “trying” to be the do-it-all woman and took on a full-time teaching job, one hour away, while still teaching evening music classes.

    I was “trying” to keep the social life of the family rich and fun and took on social commitments during the weekend even though most of it needed to be spent cleaning the house or going to church with the family.

    Just like I did with my breathing, I was chasing my life in the attempt to reign it in, to catch it, to grasp it in the hope of gaining some control over it.

    It took seizures and a diagnosis of Temporal Lobe Epilepsy (which also meant the loss of my job and the end of my career as a music teacher), a messy divorce, two moves in less then a year, financial uncertainty, and more losses of friends to finally admit that I just could not “try” anymore.

    I could no longer make my life unfold the way I wanted it to unfold or make it look the way I thought it should look.

    I could no longer “try” to make people happy; I could no longer be what I thought they wanted me to be.

    I desperately wanted healing, and yet I didn’t even have the physical strength or the mental clarity to begin to mend the broken pieces of my shattered life.

    Unlike Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love), I could not take off and go on a retreat in India in the hope to find my own lost self; my three kids and dogs needed me. Nor could I go to Italy to be with my friends and family.

    Instead, I found myself completely alone after having lost the entire social circle I shared with my husband, and after moving to a small apartment in a struggling small city where I had no connections whatsoever.

    There I had no choice but to confront my brokenness and aloneness; there I had to accept all the limitations of my new life, and as Charles Bukowski says in his poem “Alone,” there, I had to learn my walls, I had to accept them and learn to love them.

    It turned out that, for me, the only way out of my darkness was not to escape it but to plunge right into it.

    Among the walls of my apartment I found myself gravitating to the mat again only to find out this time that I couldn’t even physically sit. I had so much emotional pain stuck in my abdomen and chest that I couldn’t even feel my breathing.

    Since the only way I could become aware of my breath was by lying down, I decided to meditate in a supine position, shavasana style.

    Once I gave myself the permission to do that, something great happened: I experienced gravity, and gravity held and healed me. My abdomen relaxed. I could finally feel my belly muscles rising and falling; I could finally feel my breath.

    With gravity’s healing support, I could then observe the breath; I could notice it, witness it.

    In my brokenness I had to finally let go of control, surrendered to whatever my life was and had become, trusting that the breath of life would take me where I needed to be, every day, every moment.

    That was only few months ago and now I am finally able to sit on my meditation pillow.

    Following the breath is also quite a different experience. When I sit, I am able to be a viewer, an observer. I watch my breath, I watch what it’s doing, I observe its rhythm, its ups and downs, its ins and outs, and I just let it be. I accept it with all its irregularities. I just let it do its thing.

    I am not sure yet how all of this is getting played out in my life. One thing I have learned, however, is that letting go of how we think our life should be and letting ourselves fall, maybe even backward, into radical self-acceptance and radical self-love are gifts to be treasured—even if those gifts come through harsh life lessons and losses.

    Some of us were lucky enough to come into the world with those gifts built into our system. Some of us have to consciously make an effort and work hard at cultivating them—sometimes at creating them, sculpting them from the raw matter of our mistakes and failures, inventing them out of nothingness because nothing or too little was given to us.

    But that, in my opinion, is where it’s worth trying. That is an effort worth making—one that will not assure us of a smooth ride but that might bring us to a place of inner peace, joy, appreciation, and gratitude, where a lasting transformation might actually happen.

    And then, after we stop trying so hard to chase “happiness,” to control life and make it look the way it ought to look, then we can probably begin to have a pretty good time.

    Boy relaxing image via Shutterstock

  • 6 Tips to Love and Support Yourself and Become a Happier You

    6 Tips to Love and Support Yourself and Become a Happier You

    Closeup of Smiling Woman

    “Awaken; return to yourself” ~Marcus Aurelius

    Darkness. Resentment. Detachment. Extreme discomfort.

    Those are the words I would use to describe my internal experience during my adolescent years up to young adulthood.

    Depression was something I was all too familiar with. Fear was running my life and I was exhausted. I now understand that a lot of it had to do with the dysfunctional family I grew up in and the pain that ensued.

    Determined to break this unhealthy way of being, I’ve been on a road of healing and self-growth over the past few years.

    However, my transition into a stronger relationship with myself really kicked into gear after my heart got broken for the first time. But it didn’t just get broken—it got completely shredded. Little did I know this would be the best thing that had ever happened to me.

    As I was deep into the break-up process, I was awakened by the fact that I had completely abandoned myself in the relationship. My confidence was low, I had no self-worth, and I relied on the one I loved to save me and carry me.

    I became delusional about the reality of my relationship and the man I was in love with.

    Harsh realization to come to terms with, but that was my starting point.

    Eventually, I was able to slowly put myself back out into the world. I kept running into situations that led me to discover all of these core values I was lacking in the relationship.

    After a few months of insightful encounters, I came to understand the path I was on: building a stronger, healthier relationship with myself.

    Even though I was going through heartbreak, I felt lighter, different. It was weird. After a while everything seemed to have “clicked” and kept progressing.

    From that point on I became devoted to myself. I was determined to rely on myself for the things I was constantly depending on other people/outside sources for. Below are the steps that helped me move toward myself.

    1. Practice self-compassion.

    Get to know this. Make it your new religion. This is the core for a stronger relationship with yourself because it creates a gentler tone within you.

    Self-compassion helps you acknowledge when you’re going through a hard time and release judgments toward yourself, which then opens you up to self-love.

    Even though it was hard, I practiced this during my break-up. I would put my hand on my heart and say things such as, “You poor thing, this is such an incredible amount of pain to deal with. This hurts so bad.” And I’d stay with that pain for a moment.

    I’d then finish off by reminding myself that I’m doing the best I can right now and I’m actually handling the situation really well.

    Doing this gave me the courage to ease into intense emotions and feel them fully, which helped me heal. It also empowered me as it made me feel not as codependent.

    Realizing that I was able to take care of myself during this incredibly painful time was a huge moment for me. Ultimately, it restored all of this self-love in me that I never knew existed.

    I suggest reading Kristin Neff’s book on self-compassion. I was able to grasp the concept just from this book. However, as someone who has been extremely hard on myself my whole life, it was difficult to be open to the idea at first and took a lot of practice.

    2. Get in touch with your feelings and body.

    I spent a lifetime repressing feelings not even understanding what they were. I now realize this is not okay.

    Our bodies are constantly filling us up with sensations trying to let us know what they feel and need. I’ve found that the more I try to identify my feelings, the closer I become to my intuition.

    Recently, I had to choose a new roommate and met with a ton of people. As I tried to get to know everyone, I made sure I became aware of the feeling that filled up inside me. I would notice warm yet powerful sensations, tightness, or nothing at all. After a while I began to trust those feelings and based my decisions off of them.

    It has also made me treat my heart and body with more respect, so I take better care of them.

    One time when I was working a lot I felt an illness coming on. After I came home that day, I listened very carefully to what my body needed to feel better. I ate whatever sounded good (sweet corn sounded like heaven, oddly enough), drank lots of water, took a bath, gave myself a ton of self-love, and went to bed super early.

    I felt amazing the next day.

    Meditation is also a great exercise for this that will heighten your awareness of any feelings that arise.

    3. Discover your values.

    We all have values, but do we ever really analyze what they are and why we choose some over others?

    I went through a list of values one day that I found online and highlighted the ones that spoke to me the most. I became so much closer to myself after establishing this.

    I discovered that I deeply value my physical and mental health, kindness, authentic connection with myself and others, and efficiency.

    It felt like I was rediscovering my identity. I simply allowed myself to embrace my authenticity and it felt amazing.

    4. Understand your needs and boundaries.

    Identifying my values led me to recognize what my needs are.

    Since I value my physical and mental health, taking care of my mind and body has become my number one need. I’ve come to learn that my mind and body are very sensitive, so I need to nurture them in order to maintain a healthy level of comfort.

    With that understanding, I essentially created a boundary for myself. I made sure I did my best to honor that need in most situations. Whether it meant missing a night out with friends to catch up on good sleep, avoiding pushing myself too hard at the gym, or taking a moment for myself to release any built up emotions.

    Once my needs were established, I had a better idea of what my boundaries are in work, in relationships, and with myself. Ultimately, it created an awareness of when my sense of identity was being challenged or reinforced.

    5. Avoid relying on external validation.

    This one takes practice and is where a lot of the steps I just listed get put to the test.

    We have such quick, easy access to external validation nowadays (Facebook, Instagram, anything with a “like” button). We often become confused on where the most important source of validation should come from.

    Lately, I’ve been making an effort to become conscious of when I get caught up in the desire for someone’s approval. I see it as an opportunity to check in with the status of my self-love. If I’m happy with who I am and am confident behind my decisions, I remind myself that I don’t need someone else’s approval.

    It’s a very empowering process.

    There are times, however, when I struggle with it, which is okay because it’s part of the human experience. I just try to be understanding and explore those insecurities.

    6. Recognize where the pain is coming from.

    This is one of the hardest steps. Take it slow. Be gentle. Start by being honest with yourself to see if you notice a behavior pattern that comes off in an unhealthy way (such as relying heavily on external validation). Try to identify the deeper reasons behind it and explore them.

    Once I understood that the way I was viewing my love interests was not healthy, I eventually realized it stemmed from a deep pain of neglect from my parents. From there, I began the process of breaking this pattern.

    Intense emotions will come up, but if you welcome them with open, loving arms (aka self-compassion!) you can ease into this process with a sense of safety.

    You might need help from another source such as a self-help book, therapist, or friend to identify the unhealthy habits.

    —

    Building a stronger relationship with yourself is an incredibly fulfilling and liberating process. It takes time, patience, and understanding. Try to go into it with an excitement and curiosity rather than an expectation.

    I’ve come to find that when you have a better sense of your identity, you become empowered. When you become empowered, you gain self-esteem. When you gain self-esteem, you are more driven to take better care of yourself. One thing always leads to another. 

    Most importantly, however, love and support from myself creates a happier me.

    Closeup of smiling woman image via Shutterstock

  • You’re Going to Be Okay

    You’re Going to Be Okay

    Man on a Bench

    “The mind is everything. What you think, you become.” ~Buddha

    “I will be okay,” I repeated to myself. “Deep breaths. You’re okay. Focus on the breath. I am going to be okay…”

    I was on a small plane flying over the Rocky Mountains of Colorado on a hot summer afternoon—a notoriously turbulent time to fly.

    I’m not afraid of flying. I do it a lot and it’s not something that makes me nervous, although the mantra could work perfectly well if I was. It does, for some reason, make me incredibly motion sick at times—scanning seatback pockets for white bags, sweaty forehead, trembling, white-faced…sick.

    I was flying alone, and thankfully there was no one in the other seat next to me. (The plane was only three seats wide, with the aisle offset in the middle.)

    I was glad to have personal space to sweat it out, bump by bump, mantra by mantra, coaching myself through, without having to tend to anyone else’s experience or reaction to my sickness.

    I knew I would be perfectly fine, ultimately. Like those times with a bad case of the stomach bug, the body’s reaction can be scary, or super uncomfortable at the very least. The severity feels primal, and one generally goes someplace deep inside and gets through.

    In this case, my mantra and the self-talk served as an anchor, a ray of hope, a deeply present champion who needed nothing from me. It was simply there, relaying meditative principles to my experience moment by moment.

    A few years later, I was going through the grieving process of saying goodbye to a relationship, riding waves of feeling sad, hurt, and alone, sometimes with gut wrenching strength. I wanted to reach out to him; I wanted to hear words I felt I needed to feel better, tell him how I wanted it to be, and then have that actually happen.

    I wanted control.

    It was done, and I hadn’t anticipated the ending script. My head and heart spun from hurt and unfulfilled dreams. So I began telling my story to friends and family, trying to help process the emotions, events, and logic.

    Sometimes it helped, others times it just hurt.

    As the emotions buffeted up and down like airplane turbulence, I always felt alone in the moments when the crescendo peaked then pressed me down into an unsteady whoosh.

    How was I happily engaged living life in the present one moment, then longing for connection, what had been, and feeling hurt, rejected, or confused the next?

    And how could I support myself better without just craving what had been or wanting another version of the story? I needed a mantra for those moments.

    A mantra is sometimes referred to as an “instrument for the mind.” The roots of man (mind) and tra (instrument) come from Sanskrit and can help us utilize the power of the mind to enter a place of healthy silence.

    In this space we can gain distance, perspective, and awareness from the stories that we tell ourselves about our lives and get wrapped up in.

    I think of mantras like yoga and church. (Go with me for a moment!)

    One can attend, soaking in the principles, morals, and lifestyle, and walk out the door not to return to that headspace until the next entrance to the building. Or, one can walk out the door taking the values into daily practice, and upon return, simply enrich the soul and fundamentals nourished from previous visits.

    I vote for integration and transference in all we do.

    On the plane, my mind would get caught up in a story such as, “How long is this going to last?!”and upon realization, I would come back to my mantra.

    Integrating mindfulness into more turbulent emotional times challenged my personal integration edge; after telling stories, feeling the emotions, and sometimes just trying to push them away, I walked back into the building.

    If I choose to stay attuned, present in my life, and committed to growth, I can honor the ups and downs and have the power to provide myself what I need.

    I am there. I can always be there—the constant, ever present voice in my life.

    It’s not that I don’t have good friends, loved ones, or a strong support system. I do. Most of the time they are probably best as the cherry on top, supplement, or supercharge to my own inner knowing.

    Imagine, what if you were always there for yourself, providing just what you needed, allowing your friends, family, and significant others to delightfully enrich your life?

    Coaching myself through living is more complicated than moments of seeing black spots, with sweat dripping off my face, sick as a dog on an airplane. But I believe I can—we can—learn and always become better supports for ourselves.

    At the very least we can be willing to search, learn, and try when we do not know.

    And in the end, for me, the mantra from the plane works, for heartache and quite a lot of other things. “I will be okay. Deep breaths. You’re okay. Focus on the breath. You are going to be okay.”

    Your mantra may sound different. My hope for you is to remember the instrument of your mind in times of smooth passage or turbulent flight, then sing, whisper, or chant yourself a perfect melody for the moment.

    Man on a bench image via Shutterstock

  • How to Boost Your Self-Esteem When You’re Insecure

    How to Boost Your Self-Esteem When You’re Insecure

    “To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    When it comes to self-esteem, I’ve had a bumpy ride. Throughout my school life I was severely bullied and, consequently, I grew up intensely insecure and self-critical.

    I constantly measured my self-worth against the opinions of others, and when opinions weren’t forthcoming, I simply filled in the blanks by imagining the worst.

    By my twenties I measured my self-worth in terms of my popularity, how successful I was compared to my friends, my appearance, and my love life.

    If I had a bad hair day it was catastrophic—I instantly felt ugly, unlovable, and alone. Everything hinged upon my desire to measure up, and if I felt I wasn’t (which I usually did) I would berate and bully myself.

    It was as if there was this volcano inside of me simmering away with self-loathing that could burst into outright hatred at any time. Because I didn’t like myself, I was constantly searching for outside validation, someone else that could make me happy and whole again.

    Looking back, I think that’s why I found it so hard to be single. I hadn’t learned to like myself, so it made perfect sense that to be left in my own company would cause me unease.

    In 2009 it all came to a head when I had what can only be described as a catastrophic breakdown, or as I like to put it, breakthrough.

    I finally sought treatment for my trauma, which helped build my self-esteem. I was extremely privileged to have had access to world-class care; however, the steps I took to overcome my low self-esteem—the very same I share with you today—can be achieved by anyone with the aid of a notepad and pen.

    Step 1: Create a positive qualities record.

    The biggest step I took toward learning to love myself was to remind myself of the kind of person I could be.

    Shockingly simple, I know, but nevertheless challenging when you don’t like yourself very much. I remember struggling to think of positive qualities that I could honestly claim as my own and trying to silence my inner critic as it discounted each one I thought of.

    The more I persisted, the easier I recalled them, one by one. If you find it difficult at first, keep at it—trust me, it will pay off.

    Essentially, you are training your brain to look for evidence that supports a higher level of self-esteem, and this exercise is extremely effective. Aim to write down just fifteen positive qualities that relate to your character.

    As I re-read my list, I remembered I had qualities I liked and was proud of. The process of writing them down had reassured me that I had worth after all. I then went through the list and wrote down examples of when I had displayed those qualities.

    You don’t have to do this for all of your fifteen qualities. Simply pick your five favorite qualities from your list and note down the times when you have shown those traits to others.

    When I did this for my own positive qualities record, I really had to search for examples, but the sense of validation I felt was well worth it. I now had concrete evidence that I possessed the qualities I had attributed to myself—a powerful silencing tool for my inner critic!

    Step 2: Create an activity diary for achievements, fun, and relaxation.

    This step had the biggest impact upon my self-esteem by far. I was given instructions to list daily entries with an A (for Achievement), an F (for Fun), or an R (for Relaxation) besides each task or activity. I was also told to list small things for A’s to build up my confidence before listing bigger tasks.

    These simple instructions transformed how I saw my time and, most importantly, how I viewed self-care. No longer did I think of fun and relaxation as frivolous or insignificant. I now saw them as equally valid to tasks and an important use of my time.

    Day by day I ticked off the A’s, F’s, and R’s in my diary and almost immediately my confidence and self-esteem grew. I had a sense of achievement and inner pride from knowing I was practicing self-care and being productive. Moreover, my confidence in my capabilities grew tenfold.

    I started to have guilt-free fun and rediscovered the joy it brought. I learned what I found relaxing and I became calmer as a result.

    The truth is, these same benefits are available to you right now. All you need is a diary and a pen—nothing fancy—just something to write down two tasks each day. List one Achievement and either one Relaxation or one Fun activity. Then take pleasure in seeing your self-esteem rise.

    Step 3: Adjust negative core beliefs.

    The problem with core beliefs is that we believe them at our very, well, core. Unsurprisingly, one of my negative core beliefs was that I was unlovable. The first thing I did was to write it down and then challenge it to discover a more realistic, balanced core belief.

    It was hard at first, but after some time I came up with “I may not be perfect, but there are many people that love me and find me lovable.” This was definitely a more accurate and balanced core belief, and one I would do well to adopt.

    I then wrote the new balanced core belief at the top of a new page and below it drew two columns. On top of one, I wrote, “Evidence for New Core Belief—Past & Present” and on top of the other, “Evidence for New Core Belief—Future.”

    I then listed all the evidence for my new core belief to date.

    I listed all of the people who I knew loved me. I listed my positive qualities as lovable traits and examples when others had been loving toward me. In the second column I listed: noticing when people pay me compliments, paying attention to loving gestures, and making note of when people tell me “I love you.”

    The more I reflected on the evidence, the less I believed that I was unlovable and the more weight my new realistic and balanced core belief held. I suddenly felt lighter, relieved even, as if I had just woken up from a nightmare that now had no place in reality.

    By their very nature core beliefs are deeply rooted, but if you regularly look over the evidence you’ve written for your new balanced core belief, you too can overcome its grasp!

    —

    I’m happy to say that the insecure and self-critical years I spent in my twenties seem like a distant memory now. I’m kinder to myself. I’m more forgiving of my flaws and don’t equate them to my self-worth.

    Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly confident, I even go out without make-up on—just to prove to myself I can and that I am more than the summation of my looks.

    What others think of me no longer bothers me in the way that it once did because I know that I am a loving, kind, generous person with a lot to offer people.

    As I write that, it sounds arrogant on the page, but that’s what I believe and that’s what my internal dialogue has become.

    Don’t get me wrong, my inner critic sometimes pops his ugly head up every now and again, but I now have a vast array of ammunition to throw at him.

    By following these steps you will accrue your own arsenal to throw at your inner critics so they too can be silenced and, as Thich Nhat Hanh would say, so that you can accept yourself—both wholeheartedly and completely, for the beautiful person you were born to be.

  • 10 Things to Stop Doing If You Want to Be Happy

    10 Things to Stop Doing If You Want to Be Happy

    “It isn’t what you have, or who you are, or where you are, or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It is what you think about.” ~Dale Carnegie

    There was a time when I didn’t think I could ever be happy.

    I felt alone. I felt confused. And I felt overwhelmed.

    Luckily, that all began to change when I started looking inside. I discovered how I was the cause of my unhappiness.

    And I discovered what stood between me and enjoying life.

    Here are ten of the things I discovered:

    1. Neglecting yourself and your needs

    One of the biggest things was that I was ignoring what was right for me. I looked outside for the answers.

    I looked to friends and society to tell me how to live my life. It was too painful to discover what I needed, so I gave away my power and hoped that would solve everything.

    It didn’t.

    Eventually, I realized that no one really knows how to live a happy life. Some seem confident, but they don’t really know.

    Even the happiest of people go through dark times. When I began noticing what I felt drawn to do and what felt right for me, things began to change.

    It happened slowly. I wasn’t confident at first, but I began to listen to my inner GPS.

    2. Ignoring your inner GPS

    As I began listening to myself, I saw that I had an inner guidance system within me.

    I didn’t call it that then. It communicated with me through feeling. When something was right for me, I felt peace, joy, and curiosity inside.

    When something wasn’t right, it felt lifeless, dead.

    I began to see that trying to figure life out logically didn’t work, because my mind couldn’t foresee the future.

    The heart is what I would call my inner GPS. It nudges me through life, one moment at a time. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m on the right track when I listen to my heart.

    3. Resisting darkness

    Life contains both dark and light.

    It sounds counterintuitive, but when you embrace the darkness, you open the door to the light.

    I’ve gone through some dark, depressive periods in my life. I used to resist them, a lot. Today I do it less.

    I know that it is through these dark times that I learn the most. I dive inside. I breathe it all in, and I notice what it is that’s making me quiver with fear.

    I investigate my internal reality and stay in the present moment.

    This is hard to do when I’m feeling down. I want to run away to food, movies, games, books, and anything but the darkness.

    But when I dive in, I see that the darkness is nothing but a virtual reality created by me. I look at the fear of not having enough, and I see that what I’m afraid of is a thought I choose to entertain.

    4. Saying ”no” to the now

    The more I try to escape the present moment, the more miserable I am.

    When I stay right here, right now, even the most ordinary tasks become extraordinary. Washing the dishes feels alive.

    But if I try to exchange the now for a future paradise, I live in a present hell.

    Being in the now, for me, is simply about noticing what’s here, right now. As I write this, I hear my fingers tap-tap-tapping away on the keyboard.

    I notice the hum of the electronics on my desktop, and I feel my body on the chair.

    And above all, I feel my feelings fully. I’m feeling a bit anxious as I write this. And that’s okay. It’s normal to feel anxious.

    5. Being afraid of making mistakes

    If I am afraid of making mistakes, I assume that I have something to lose.

    I also assume that there is a perfect way of doing something.

    Yet, I cannot know any of this. I don’t know if making a mistake helps me grow (which it often does). And I don’t know if making a mistake is the perfect path for me.

    You see, we live in our heads. We manufacture a reality that we then believe is real when it’s not.

    A hundred years from now, my mistakes won’t matter. What will matter (for me) is how much I loved and how much I enjoyed life.

    I’m human. You’re human. We make mistakes. That’s okay, as long as we’re honest with ourselves.

    6. Aiming for perfection

    I try to be perfect because I think it’ll bring approval from others, from you.

    And that approval will make me feel loved and feel good about myself.

    Yet, the act of trying to be perfect means dismissing myself. It means not loving who I am right now. It means not doing what I can with what I have.

    I have an image of what perfect is, and it always seems to be out of my reach.

    I’m striving to feel better, but the only thing I manage to do is to feel worse in this moment. When I notice the scam of perfection, I return to the present moment.

    I breathe. I do my best. And I follow my heart.

    This applies for staying in the present moment as well. I’m not in the now all the time. I try to accept whatever comes.

    7. Chasing happiness

    I often fall into the habit of chasing happiness.

    But to me, it’s more like I’m avoiding my feelings. I feel bad, so I want to be happy. I create an image of a future where I’m happy, and I long for it.

    I want it now.

    I think to myself, ”If only I had that, I could be happy.”

    Yet, that thought is the one keeping me stuck. The wanting happiness snatches me out of the present moment.

    When I let go of wanting to be somewhere else, I notice what’s right here. Sometimes it isn’t what I want, but even what I think I want is another thought.

    Each thought that says I need something else is an opportunity for me to stay in the present moment.

    8. Trying to control life

    I don’t control life.

    I control my reactions and actions but not much else.

    When I try to manipulate life, people, and places, I end up exhausted. It’s not my domain. It’s not up to me to control outcomes.

    All I can do is follow my heart, my inner GPS, and see what happens. I am a passenger in this body, on this blue planet of ours.

    I am here to experience both the good and the bad. I am here to learn and to grow. To cry and to laugh.

    9. Putting off your dreams

    Dreams are scary.

    It took me two to three years to muster up the courage to write about the things I truly wanted to write about.

    I was afraid of what you would think, what you would do. I was afraid of failing, of succeeding, of everything.

    Eventually, I realized that I could give in to my assumptions or I could take the next step and see what would happen.

    Luckily, I took the next step. And you know what? Nothing bad happened.

    I wrote. I told people about my work. My audience grew. And years later, here I am. Here you are, reading my words.

    My dreams began with one step, and so will yours.

    Stop waiting for a grand opportunity and notice the doors that are open now. It might only mean starting a blog that has ten readers or writing in your journal. But start somewhere.

    And start before you feel ready.

    10. Trying to fix others

    I used to think it was my responsibility to fix others, even if it meant forcing them to see things my way, and it compromised my happiness and theirs.

    I now let people travel their own path.

    You have mistakes you need to make. You have experiences to collect. I am not going to stand in the way of that.

    If you come to me for help, I will help, but I will not force my truth on you.

    I cannot control life, and I cannot control you. When I see that life will take care of itself, I have no need to control you.

    This has been especially hard with my loved ones, but I’m learning. I’m improving every day.

    There is no fixing, because I do not know what perfection is. If we are here to experience life, then perfection is experience.

    There are no mistakes, no blunders, and no pitfalls.

    There is only this moment.

    —

    There are many things I’ve learned during my life, but one of the main things is that we tend to take our thoughts too seriously.

    We tend to take life too seriously.

    I think that if I make a mistake, my dreams are ruined. But when I see the assumptions behind that sentence, and when I see that my dreams are a figment of my imagination, I am liberated.

    I remember that all I have to do, all I can do, is follow my inner GPS.

    I can only do what excites me, and life will take care of the rest.

  • 5 Things to Remember When You Start Worrying

    5 Things to Remember When You Start Worrying

    “Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight.” ~Benjamin Franklin

    Have you every worried yourself to the point of emotional, even physical exhaustion?

    Do you often feel stuck, anxious, or mistrustful of the world around you?

    I know what it’s like to feel trapped by worry—in fact, I have always been a chronic worrier.

    I worried and obsessed mostly about the hypothetical, the imaginary, the infinite variety of “what-if” scenarios. Eventually, I convinced myself that if I worried about every conceivable thing that could go wrong in my life, I would either avoid them altogether or numb myself of their effects.

    As time went on and responsibilities increased, the worries intensified. I became anxious about raising my children well. I worried about money, career, and what people thought of me.

    Then one day, I experienced a mild panic attack. Feeling overwhelmed with all I needed to get done that day, I began to experience dizziness and intense feelings of fear.

    For a moment, I felt like I was living in an altered reality as my legs wobbled beneath me, and my heart pounded in my chest. I quickly found a private place to sit until the feelings passed.

    I knew this was a wake-up call. I needed to find ways to manage my worry and anxiety before it got worse.

    Over the years, I’ve found that embracing the following five truths stops worry from spiraling out of control:

    1. You are not your worry.

    For a long time, I did what most people who worry do—I tried to make it stop. I quickly learned that trying to block thoughts of worry was like trying to stop a river from flowing.

    I eventually learned a simple but profound truth that changed everything for me:

    You are not your emotions.

    This is the power of detachment. Not the detachment that tries to be stoic but the one that allows you to feel your emotions without identifying with them.

    I began to apply this by observing myself non-judgmentally as I worried. As I continued to observe myself, I learned to be at peace with my inability to stop worrisome thoughts. But I also learned that I could change my response to those worrying thoughts for the better. The same can be true for you.

    2. Worry cannot exist in the present.

    We rarely worry about problems we presently face. Worrying is a future-oriented activity fueled by uncertainty and anticipation.

    The truth of this realization was another game changer for me. As I reflected, I could see that all of my worries were about a future I could not control. What about the past? The only past events I worried about were the ones I feared would adversely affect my future.

    Want to avoid worry altogether? Stay in the now. I learned to do this through mindfulness meditation. A simple mindfulness technique is to focus on your breath when you begin to drift away from the present. Let each inhalation and exhalation ground you right where you are.

    3. Worry can be confined.

    If you’ve ever struggled with worry, you know that it can easily consume your entire day. This happened to me regularly. Once I learned to accept my worry, I decided to confine it rather than allow it free reign over my life. I would set aside a limited amount of time to allow my mind to worry intensely on its latest subject. At the end of that period, I would let it go.

    Want to confine your worry? Try scheduling ten to thirty minutes a day for worry. Use this time to visualize your anxious feelings, write them down, and come up with an action plan for dealing with the root causes of your worry. If the worry reappears outside this scheduled time, postpone it until the next worry period.

    4. You can give away your worry.

    Have you ever noticed that your worry intensifies the more you focus on yourself? In the past, I used my worry to draw myself inward. I focused on my own needs and ignored the needs of others. It rarely helped to reduce my worry.

    One of the things I learned by observing myself was my tendency to forget about my worries when I worried about other people and helped them with their needs. I let the onset of worry be a signal to call a lonely friend or spend time with a loved one. I learned to give my worry away.

    5. You are human.

    The greatest source of my worry was my attempt to be superhuman. I was trying to be all things to all people. I worried incessantly about what they thought of me. Instead of beating myself up for not living up to everyone’s expectations, I decided to embrace my limitedness. I cannot please everyone, and I am at peace with this truth.

    It’s Time to Take a Stand

    I know it might seem hard for you to integrate these tips, especially if, like most of us, you’ve struggled with a long-standing habit of coddling worry rather than openly challenging it.

    But you can break down this habit one step at a time. Imagine a life without the controlling effects of worry. A life where worry itself is controlled and confined. Imagine no longer being emotionally drained by worry so that you can be truly present to those you love.

    Stand up to worry. Today.

    Separate yourself from it. Confine it. And let it go.

  • Overcoming Approval Addiction: Stop Worrying About What People Think

    Overcoming Approval Addiction: Stop Worrying About What People Think

    “What other people think of me is none of my business.” ~Wayne Dyer

    Do you ever worry about what people think about you?

    Have you ever felt rejected and gotten defensive if someone criticized something you did?

    Are there times where you hold back on doing something you know would benefit yourself and even others because you’re scared about how some people may react?

    If so, consider yourself normal. The desire for connection and to fit in is one of the six basic human needs, according to the research of Tony Robbins and Cloe Madanes. Psychologically, to be rejected by “the tribe” represents a threat to your survival.

    This begs the question: If wanting people’s approval is natural and healthy, is it always a good thing?

    Imagine for a moment what life would be like if you didn’t care about other people’s opinions. Would you be self-centered and egotistical, or would you be set free to live a life fulfilling your true purpose without being held back by a fear of rejection?

    For my entire life I’ve wrestled with caring about other people’s opinions.

    I thought this made me selfless and considerate. While caring about the opinion of others helped me put myself into other people’s shoes, I discovered that my desire, or more specifically my attachment to wanting approval, had the potential to be one of my most selfish and destructive qualities.

    Why Approval Addiction Makes Everyone Miserable

    If wanting the approval of others is a natural desire, how can it be a problem? The problem is that, like any drug, the high you get from getting approval eventually wears off. If having the approval of others is the only way you know how to feel happy, then you’re going to be miserable until you get your next “fix.”

    What this means is that simply wanting approval isn’t the problem. The real issue is being too attached to getting approval from others as the only way to feel fulfilled. To put it simply, addiction to approval puts your happiness under the control of others.

    Because their happiness depends on others, approval addicts can be the most easily manipulated. I often see this with unhealthy or even abusive relationships. All an abuser has to do is threaten to make the approval addict feel rejected or like they’re being selfish, and they’ll stay under the abuser’s spell.

    Approval addiction leads to a lack of boundaries and ultimately resentment. Many times I felt resentment toward others because they crossed my boundaries, and yet I would remain silent. I didn’t want to come across as rude for speaking up about how someone upset me.

    The problem is this would lead to pent up resentment over time, because there’s a constant feeling that people should just “know better.” When I took an honest look at the situation, though, I had to consider whose fault it was if resentment built up because my boundaries were crossed.

    Is it the fault of the person who unknowingly crossed those boundaries, or the person who failed to enforce boundaries out of fear of rejection?

    Looking at my own life, I actually appreciate when someone I care about lets me know I’ve gone too far. It gives me a chance to make things right. If I don’t let others know how they’ve hurt me because of fear of rejection, aren’t I actually robbing them of the opportunity to seek my forgiveness and do better?

    This leads me to my final point, approval addiction leads to being selfish. The deception is that the selfishness is often disguised and justified as selflessness.

    As a writer, I’m exposed to critics. If I don’t overcome a desire for wanting approval from everyone, then their opinions can stop me from sharing something incredibly helpful with those who’d benefit from my work.

    Approval addiction is a surefire way to rob the world of your gifts. How selfish is it to withhold what I have to offer to others all because I’m thinking too much about what some people may think of me?

    As strange as it sounds, doing things for others can be selfish. On an airplane, they say to put the oxygen mask on yourself before putting it on a child. This is because if the adult passes out trying to help the child, both are in trouble.

    In much the same way, approval addiction can lead a person to martyr themselves to the point that everyone involved suffers.

    For instance, if a person spends so much time helping others that they neglect their own health, then in the long run, it may be everyone else who has to take care of them when they get sick, causing an unnecessary burden.

    Selfless acts, done at the expense of one’s greater priorities, can be just as egotistical and destructive as selfish acts.

    How to Overcome Approval Addiction

    The first way to overcome approval addiction is to be gentle with yourself. Wanting to feel connected with others is normal. It’s only an issue when it’s imbalanced with other priorities like having boundaries.

    What approval addicts are often missing is self-approval. We all have an inner critic that says things like, “You’re not good enough. You’re nothing compared to these people around you. If you give yourself approval, you’re being selfish.”

    You can’t get rid of this voice. What you can do is choose whether or not to buy into it or something greater.

    You also have a part of yourself that says, “You’re worthy. You’re good enough. You’re just as valuable as anyone else.” The question becomes: “Which voice do I choose to align to?”

    This often means asking yourself questions like, “Can I give myself some approval right now? What is something I appreciate about myself?” The next step is to then be willing to actually allow yourself to receive that approval.

    To break approval addiction, remember to treat yourself the way you want others to treat you.

    In much the same way, you can overcome approval addiction by equally valuing other important things, such as your need for significance and control. While wanting to control things can be taken too far just like wanting approval, it is the Yang to approval-seeking’s Yin. Both are necessary for balance.

    Questions that typically help me are: “Do I want other people’s opinions to have power over me? Would I rather let this person control me or maintain control over my own life?”

    Finally, there is the ultimate key to overcoming approval addiction. It’s by using the greatest motivator— unconditional love.

    Worrying about what other people think masquerades as love. In reality, when you really love someone, you’re willing to have their disapproval.

    Imagine a parent with a child. If the parent is too concerned about the child’s opinion of them, they might not discipline their child for fear of the child disliking them. Have you ever seen a parent who lets their child get away with anything because they don’t want to be the “bad guy?” Is this truly loving?

    To break approval addiction, I realized I had to ask one of the most challenging questions anyone could ask themselves: Am I willing to love this person enough to have them hate me?

    If you really care for someone, telling them, “You’re screwing up your life” and having them feel the pain of that statement might be the most loving thing you can do.

    This comes with the very real possibility they will reject you for pointing out the truth. However, if you love someone, wouldn’t you rather have them go through a little short-term pain in order to save them a lot of pain down the road?

    On the upside, many people will eventually come to appreciate you more in the long term if you’re willing to be honest with them and prioritize your love for them over your desire for their approval.

    If you have to share a harsh truth, a mentor, Andy Benjamin, taught me that you can make this easier by first asking, “Can I be a true friend?” to let them know what you’re about to say is coming from a place of love.

    —

    I’ve found that everything, including the desire for approval, can serve or enslave you depending on how you respond to it.

    Do you use your desire for approval as a force to help you see things from other people’s perspective, or do you use it as a crutch on which you base your happiness?

    Do you use your desire for approval as a reminder to give yourself approval, or do you use it as an excuse to be miserable when others don’t give you approval?

    Finally, are you willing show the ultimate demonstration of genuine love—sacrificing your desire for approval in order to serve another?

  • We Can Find Reasons to Be Happy and Grateful Every Day

    We Can Find Reasons to Be Happy and Grateful Every Day

    Couple Playing in the Snow

    “A day without laughter is a day wasted.” ~Charlie Chaplin

    Many people have told me throughout my life that I sound just like my mother when I laugh. I lost her to cancer when I was sixteen, over twenty years ago. I learned from her to laugh and laugh often, even through the toughest of times. “Happiness is a choice,” she always said.

    Life has thrown a few curveballs my way over the past five years and tried to test my ability to choose happiness and laughter. My husband, Eric, and I had just started talking about having children when the first wild pitch came our way.

    Early in 2010, Eric was diagnosed with cancer. I remember how I refused to cry in front of him or in front of anyone really. I remember how overwhelmingly sad, scared, and angry I felt. I also remember the first time we laughed after we found out.

    We were sitting on our couch watching TV, and something very funny came on and we both laughed. I can’t remember what it was. I just remember looking at him and feeling a bit surprised.

    I realized that it was going to be really important for us to keep laughing, and we did, often at times when most people would think we were nuts.

    We laughed at the crazy sound Eric made when he got sick (to put it politely) after chemotherapy. We laughed when I blew into his ostomy bag to make sure it was attached correctly (a very risky maneuver considering what could have come out of there.)

    We laughed hysterically when a nurse very inappropriately commented that our sex life would probably be a lot better once he had the surgery to get rid of the ostomy.

    Fast-forward a few years. Eric was healthy and we were ready to move forward in starting a family. We knew there could be some complications, but they turned out to be worse than we thought. Cancer treatments had made Eric sterile and it turns out that I had some issues too.

    We decided to try IVF with samples Eric had frozen prior to treatment and failed multiple times. Again, we ended up laughing when most people would think we were crazy.

    We laughed when my first embryo transfer turned into a show for about six interns (thank you teaching hospital).

    We laughed when we got a box full of hormones and needles that would make some people faint.

    We laughed ourselves to tears when an employee at CVS very inappropriately asked me if I was pregnant yet because she’d seen me buy so many tests.

    We decided after two rounds of IVF and one frozen embryo transfer that we were not going to do any more fertility treatments. We had discussed adoption before, and we both agreed that we wanted to become parents this way.

    We took a good bit of time to research and discuss our options and eventually agreed that open adoption was the path for us.

    Fast-forward about a year to today and to the event that inspired me to write this post. We are in “the wait” to be chosen by an expectant mother to become parents through open adoption.

    This is something that could take months or years. Every day we are hoping that this woman, who we already love, will find us through our agency and want to place her child, who we already love, with us.

    We bought a separate phone for our toll free number to make sure we never miss a call. Today, I heard it ringing in my office and a million thoughts ran through my head instantly. Could this be her, already, we’ve only been live for a month, how should I answer, will I sound stupid…

    I ran like the wind to my office and as I was picking it up to answer, my husband jumped out from under my desk and yelled, “It was me!”

    I could have been irritated that he scared me half to death. I could have been angry that he got my hopes up that we were getting “the call.” Instead, I chose happiness and we laughed—a lot!

    Laughter has kept us sane and grounded through very trying times. I’m so thankful that my mother taught me to choose happiness and that I married my best friend who makes this choice with me every day.

    Yes, there have been sad, scary and angry moments, but we have always been able to find our way to happy and hopeful, which will make “the wait” much easier.

    We are so thankful that my husband is healthy.

    We are so thankful that we have the ability and opportunity to become parents through this amazing and loving way to create a family.

    We are so thankful that we choose to be happy. We can’t wait to share our lives, love, and laughter with our child and to teach him or her to choose happiness.

    Just as my mother encouraged me, I will now encourage all who are reading this to find at least one moment during the day to really focus on what you are thankful for.

    Taking these moments to be grateful—especially on the days when being happy may seem impossible—can be just what you need to get through them.

    Through all of life’s up and downs, at the end of the day, it is simply amazing that we are here, and we need to appreciate and enjoy it!

    Couple playing in the snow image via Shutterstock

  • 5 Vital Lessons for People Who Feel Like They’re Not Good Enough

    5 Vital Lessons for People Who Feel Like They’re Not Good Enough

    Sad Woman Behind Bars

    “What if I fall? Oh, my darling, what if you fly?” ~Erin Hanson

    Like most people, my life has had its share of ups and downs.

    My household growing up could be best described as a roller coaster. There were times of excitement and happiness, then there was the plummeting into darkness, shame, and self-loathing.

    Throughout my childhood and adolescence, I felt that I was a mistake, unloved, and unwanted by my father. His mood swings and verbal abuse would come raging like a storm without any warning, and without any end in sight.

    He often told me that I wasn’t good enough and that I was the reason for all of his problems.

    I was often frightened to go home and face him. When my mother would have to go out of town, I would insist on staying with a friend because I didn’t feel safe being alone with him.

    I was extraordinarily lucky to have such a warm and loving mother that provided me the love and support I needed to keep going. Despite all of her good intentions and love, though, I still found myself falling into a deep hole of depression and severe anxiety.

    Some of the happier times that I remember from my childhood were the years that I was in gymnastics. It made me feel alive and free to express myself.

    However, that too slowly led to destruction, as soon I began competing. My obsessive need to please others caused me such significant levels of anxiety that I decided to quit. I was only twelve, and my dreams of becoming an elite gymnast were over. 

    Though it was a good decision to move on from that life, I was still left with this feeling of shame because I couldn’t mentally handle the pressure. I felt that I had let everyone down, including myself.

    Also, without this release, my anxiety levels continued to increase, leaving me feeling on edge and awkward in my social interactions.

    As I entered adolescence, I found it harder and harder to put myself out there, in fear that others would judge me. I worried that they would think I wasn’t good enough, cool enough, skinny enough, smart enough, or pretty enough.

    I eventually created this hard exterior to prevent people from getting in and knowing the real me.

    I believed for a long time that this wall was there to protect me; however, all it did was prevent me from building relationships with others, or even a relationship with myself.

    For many years I self-medicated in various ways to deal with the pain and to allow myself to let my guard down just enough to find a solid, small groups of friends.

    It wasn’t long before I became so depressed and anxious that my family doctor put me on medications to “fix me.” They numbed me so much, though, that I medicated myself on top of that to feel alive, which of course was a recipe for disaster.

    After years of taking these medications, I couldn’t function without them. I’m became so desperate to feel alive that I took myself off of them cold turkey. This was not a pleasant experience. I went through a period where I secluded myself away from my friends and family and fell back into old habits.

    I eventually managed to pull myself out of that hole after some intense therapy and self-reflection; however, I still struggled daily with my depression and anxiety.

    Fast forward several years, after I graduated from my Masters program, and I found myself happily married, spending time with my close knit friends again, and working daily on myself.

    I had finally cut out everything negative in my life except for chain-smoking cigarettes, and then I became pregnant with our first child.

    My husband and I were ecstatic, but making that final step to quit smoking so suddenly threw me for a loop. Since it wasn’t just me now, I made the decision to try something new, yoga.

    At first it was hard, boring, and frustrating. I didn’t get it. I kept going, though, and about the time I was six months pregnant I was finally getting the hang of it.

    I didn’t just like it; I loved it! It has been just over five years since I walked into that first yoga class, and I am so thankful for everything it has taught me.

    Here are the top five ways that I believe yoga has saved my sanity. It taught me that:

    1. Practice makes progress.

    For someone that struggles with perfectionism, this mantra has been a lifesaver.

    When I first started my practice, I felt frustrated because I couldn’t make my poses look like the advanced yogis in the room. The reality was that those yogis didn’t accomplish those moves in their first class. It took time, patience, and self-acceptance to get there, and those poses could continue to progress from there.

    There is no such thing as perfect but rather always room for growth. Striving for perfection is a no-win battle in all aspects of life, for perfection is a defining wall that we create in our own minds.

    2. We have to acknowledge our own successes.

    I have never been one to take compliments well. I doubted them and worried that they were insincere.

    Even as I became stronger in my practice, I didn’t feel secure enough to attempt difficult poses in a class full of people. I feared that someone would find flaws in them or think I was a show-off.

    It wasn’t until about a year ago that I finally decided to just go for it. Since I made that leap, I have been able to grow so much more in my confidence and praise for myself.

    If you can’t be proud of yourself, how can you expect others to be?

    3. We need to surround ourselves with positive, happy people.

    Ever heard of the phrase “You become who you surround yourself with”?

    The yoga community is filled with joy, support, and kindness everywhere you turn. Although I am still not the most outgoing or social person, I embrace the positive energy every day when I am in a yoga class.

    Everyone there has come there for a purpose—to better themselves. We all have our own stuff going on in our lives, but have taken a moment to come together and to take care of ourselves.

    4. We can conquer our fears.

    The first time I saw someone in crow pose, I convinced myself that I could never do something that difficult. I just knew I would fall on my face and everyone would laugh at me. I resisted even attempting it because I was scared of failure.

    The thing is, though, sometimes we have to fall to then pick ourselves back up and try again.

    Once I started practicing and finding success, I become braver every day on my mat and found that I could, in fact, accomplish much more than I ever believed I could. We are stronger than we think we are.

    5. It’s okay to let ourselves be vulnerable.

    There is a moment at the end of every yoga class when you lie on your mat in shavasana, with your eyes closed, and just breathe.

    The idea of surrendering yourself in a room full of strangers is terrifying. This pose has taken me forever to feel comfortable in. It taught me that it is okay and actually good for the body and mind to let it all go and just be. This is when you can find peace within yourself.

    —

    It has now been twenty years since I quit my gymnastics career, and I have finally found something that has allowed me to get that same sense of freedom that I once felt as a child.

    I know that every day after I finish my yoga class, I have let go of the enormous amount of tension that I constantly carry with me, and I feel content, relaxed, empowered, and proud of myself for what I have just accomplished.

    I truly believe that yoga has saved my sanity and taught me how to love and respect myself. But you don’t need to go to a yoga class to learn these lessons. You can make the choice to let go of the pressure, tackle your fears, and celebrate yourself for being bold, brave, and vulnerable.

    Sad woman image via Shutterstock

  • Changing Your Life Story and Finding Your Happy Ending

    Changing Your Life Story and Finding Your Happy Ending

    Change Your Story

    “Maybe it’s not about the happy ending. Maybe it’s about the story.” ~Unknown

    For the longest ever time, I had no idea what my own story was.

    Desperately uncomfortable in my skin as a child, I was equal parts pathologically shy with strangers and fearless with my sisters and brother, running wild over the boulder-strewn southern California land during summers.

    As a young girl, I was also, more than once, the target for predators and perps.

    The nameless elementary school janitor who invited me into his dark and dirty closet one day. The terrifying neighbor who stopped me in a deserted alley when I was eleven or twelve. Strange grown-ups who pulled over to the curb as I walked alone, asking if I wanted a ride.

    My own grandfather.

    The fairy tale about living in a safe world, where adults care for their young ones as precious flowers, quickly became a horror story filled with monsters and demons. There wasn’t a hero in sight.

    Maps and Masks

    As Dr. Lewis Mehl-Madrona says, in Healing the Mind Through the Power of Story, “Brains use stories to make maps of the external world…” The map my brain made of the world was that adults were dangerous, bad things were normal, and secrets were the glue that held everything together.

    I became masterful at wearing culturally acceptable masks in order to keep everyone at a safe distance, as well as to gain whatever conditional approval was available.

    There was great relief in school. I was good at playing by the rules. Good at the linear academic part. Good as a people-pleasing little girl.

    And truly, my life wasn’t all bad. There were good friends, lots of laughter, and an unspoken and unbreakable solidarity with my sibs—enough to start carefully making my way out into the larger world.

    But, amongst all the craziness of so many mixed messages, I simply could not hear my own story. Who was I? Where was my place? What experiences and choices were mine?

    The Chandeliers Are Shaking

    The first adult job I loved—in the public relations department of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra—became a magical portal into a world I’d only dreamed about. A glittering world where grown-ups were world-class musicians, and sparkling dinner party companions.

    In my little VW bug, I drove Simon Rattle (now Sir Simon, famed music director of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra); the late, great violinist Isaac Stern; jazz legend Dizzy Gillespie; and many others to interviews and lunches.

    The best Happy Birthday ever sung? It was at a private party in a downtown hotel, sung by the entire cast of the opera Falstaff, gathered from all over the world for what turned out to be a critically acclaimed run. The chandeliers were shaking for real that night.

    I found myself in a universe filled with adults who seemed to be effortlessly living happily ever after—everything I wasn’t.

    The problem? It seemed as though everyone drank, except me.

    Still excruciatingly shy, I had zero social skills. (It’s hard to learn how to use the proper cutlery when eating at Taco Bell, back in the day when our family took advantage of the Friday-night special—six tacos for a dollar— if there was enough money.)

    I wanted what I thought those grown-ups had. My competitive nature kicked into high gear. The solution? Start drinking, of course.

    Unbelievably enough, a handsome and powerful young prince fell in love with me. He was a major player in that shimmering universe.

    I learned to keep up with him, drink for drink, and everyone else with whom we socialized. I learned to sparkle, too.

    It’s Okay—Go Back to Sleep

    Oh, the extremely fancy shindigs, with bottles and bottles of wines and cognac and scotch worth hundreds of dollars each! Glittering black-tie parties with incredibly accomplished stars, and the people who wanted to sit next to them.

    I drank on the West coast; in the rarified air of Aspen, where we’d moved; in New York City. All the way across Europe, during fabulous trips that included the most exclusive backstage visits at La Scala in Milan and Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw. Always followed by uber-hip late-night suppers.

    Boy, I was really living my story now, wasn’t I? You bet! I hadn’t thought about that elementary school janitor in years.

    See? All better now. There aren’t any monsters in the closet. Go back to sleep.

    Except that I began having trouble managing the hangovers. It got harder to ignore the way I felt every time I lied to the local wine storeowner, buying case after case, saying it was for parties at our house, when really, it was just for me.

    Blessedly, I finally got to the point where I couldn’t stand myself anymore. I undertook the excruciating work of beginning to get real. To start living from my own story rather than anyone else’s.

    Utter Misery, Anyone?

    It took a long time. Can I just tell you?! There are parts of the heroine’s journey that are truly, absolutely miserable.

    But never, not once, was there a time that learning to get, and stay real, felt worse than needing to finish a bottle of wine, by myself, every night.

    Honestly? The traumatic experiences as a child, my journey into addiction and back out into recovery— healing the sacred wounds—all became the magic carpet ride leading to my life’s work.

    Which has been to re-claim my story for myself. To understand how to live my own truth. To create enough space for my story to live me.

    See, it’s not that life is so short but rather that it is that it’s so precious. We create our happy endings by choosing consciously, each day, which story we’re living.

    Am I a too-wounded animal, never able to walk with dignity and pride? Do I trust that the world is a safe and loving universe? Is there enough support for me to fly as I’m meant to? Where did I put those wings, anyway?!

    Finding Your Happy Endings Within Your Stories

    Use simple mindfulness to hear the story you’re telling about your experiences.

    Regular people experience horrible things every day. Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani teen shot by the Taliban for refusing to quit school, was just awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, in part because of how she’s told her story. It’s one of love and forgiveness rather than hatred and revenge.

    Notice what story you’re telling yourself about why you’re stuck.

    “Another glass of wine? Sure, it’s been a rough week/year/life. I deserve it!” or, “This job is good enough,” or, “That person isn’t really a bully,” or, “I’m okay. I can handle it. I don’t need any help.”

    Please, find a trained professional to help if you think you’re pretending just a wee bit too much that all is well when it isn’t.

    Look within the stories you’ve been telling yourself and everyone else for the happy-ending possibilities.

    Don’t see any? Here’s the secret: you can write your own stories, which creates new maps in the brain. Explore, play, pretend there may be another way to describe your experiences. It can actually be a lot fun. Who do you want to be? What life do you want? Go!

    Fear is everything. Until it isn’t. Until we understand that it’s all in our minds.

    Neuroscience research is full of studies showing how much control we have over shifting brain states, and cultivating a positive mindset. Who’s in charge, you, or the fear? You get to choose.

    The happy endings are found within our stories. And we get to write those stories. Even further, we must live the most magnificent version of our stories. That’s what each of us is here to do.

    Man throwing papers in the air image via Shutterstock

  • How To Calm Your Worries by Admitting What You Don’t Know

    How To Calm Your Worries by Admitting What You Don’t Know

    Woman Arms Up

    “Most things I worry about never happen anyway.” ~Tom Petty

    There was once a wise farmer who had tended his farm for many years. One day his horse unexpectedly ran away into the mountains. Upon hearing the news, the farmer’s neighbors came to visit. 

    “How terrible,” they told him.

    “We’ll see,” the wise farmer replied.

    The next morning, to the farmer’s surprise, the horse returned, bringing with it three wild horses.

    “How wonderful. You are very lucky,” the neighbors exclaimed.

    “We’ll see,” replied the farmer.

    The following day, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses. The horse was untamed and the boy was thrown and fell hard, breaking his leg. 

    “How sad,” the neighbors said, offering sympathy for the farmer’s misfortune.

    “We’ll see,” answered the farmer.

    The next day, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

    “We’ll see,” the farmer said.

    This Zen story demonstrates the wisdom of not jumping to conclusions. Have you ever worried about something, only to later discover that your worry was unfounded and untrue? The ego is afraid of the unknown, so it jumps to conclusions in order to feel a sense of certainty.

    In our ego’s need for certainty, we make assumptions. And when we make assumptions, we make mistakes.

    We can never know how the future will unfold. Yet fear convinces us to believe in present circumstances and future outcomes that are totally untrue. This is the origin of worry. Worry is the ego’s way of satisfying itself with an answer—any answer, no matter how irrational it is.

    I worry about many things, big and small. I worry about getting stuck in my career, being rejected in my relationships, not having enough money, and whether or not I will miss the next subway into Manhattan.

    But worry is dangerous. When we worry, we make mistakes. For example, I might make an assumption about you, such as thinking you are angry with me. Then I act on this assumption.

    The false premise of my actions causes me to become defensive. My actions then cause you to make an assumption about me. Since you are unable to see that I am trying to protect myself, you assume I am angry with you.

    Soon we are engaged in mutual anger based on a false assumption caused by worry.

    The truth is, I will never know fully what is in your head, and you will never know fully what is in mine. Therefore, acting under the ignorance of assumption creates a ripple effect of mistakes.

    Imagination + Fear = Worry

    It is common in our society to believe that more thinking is always better. This is not always so. Intelligence is an incredible tool, but over-thinking can be just as harmful as under-thinking. Over-thinking is a sickness that creates paranoia and worry.

    When we over-think, we make up scenarios in our mind and convince ourselves that these scenarios are true.

    Without enough data to make a proper assessment of a situation, our ego hijacks our imagination and jumps to fear-based assumptions. Imagination is usually a powerful creative force, but when imagination is applied with fear, it becomes worry.

    The Universe works in mysterious ways. Embracing the mystery of life gives us a calm within the storm of uncertainty.

    Instead of over-thinking and jumping to false conclusions, learn to relax your thoughts and say, “I don’t know.”

    Trusting uncertainty gives us peace and confidence; and when we wait in stillness without the need for an answer, the truth will reveal itself. The end of fearing the unknown is the end of worry.

    Worry is wishing for what you don’t want.

    Thoughts are magnets that attract our reality. Peaceful thoughts create a peaceful reality. Fearful thoughts create a fearful reality.

    A thought repeated on a regular basis becomes a habit. When a thought becomes a habit, it forms a belief. When a thought forms a belief, it attracts external events that align with your internal state.

    Energy flows where attention goes. When you focus on what you want, it is more likely to come to pass. When you focus on what you do not want, it is more likely to come to pass. When you worry, you send a signal into the Universe that attracts your worry. Your focus over time forms your future.

    Will a single thought of worry cause your worry to come true? Probably not. Will sustaining your worry with attention and focus over a long period of time attract the worry into your life? The more you focus, the more likely it becomes.

    Because focus forms your future, it is important to only concentrate on thoughts you want to actualize.

    Your reality grows from the seeds you plant. The seeds of your beliefs grow into your thoughts. The seeds of your thoughts grow into your actions. The seeds of your actions grow into your karma.

    You are responsible for the seeds you plant, not the results. When you place your attention on the present moment, without attachment to the past or worry about the future, and plant seeds according to your highest intentions, the results will fall into place.

    Worry is an irrational attachment to, or fear of, a specific result. While it sounds counterintuitive, the only way you can achieve a desired result is by not focusing on the result; you must focus on your effort—here and now.

    You cannot change what is already growing. Instead, start planting different seeds.

    We’ll see.

    I still worry. But now, whenever my ego gives me something to worry about, I take a deep breath and meditate in silence for a moment.

    I sit in stillness and reassure myself. “I don’t have enough data to understand how this event will impact my future,” I say. “Perhaps there is a plan in place that I cannot see. I don’t know what will happen next and that is perfectly okay. I will not jump to conclusions. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

    Woman and the sky image via Shutterstock

  • A 60-Second Practice That Will Help You Find Peace and Relaxation

    A 60-Second Practice That Will Help You Find Peace and Relaxation

    “The present moment is filled with joy and happiness. If you are attentive, you will see it.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh 

    A while back, someone very dear to me entered intensive care. He’s someone I’ve learned so much from, and yet never met. I’ve read dozens of his books, both listened to and watched countless lectures, as well as been inspired to study Zen because of him.

    On Friday, November 14th, after suffering a brain hemorrhage, Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Zen master and peace activist, went into a coma. For the past few weeks, Thay, as his students call him (teacher in Vietnamese), had visited the hospital on a few occasions due to a decline in his health.

    At the age of eighty-eight, he’s lived a long and amazing life.

    He’s considered one of the two foremost Buddhist teachers in the world, next to the Dalai Lama, and was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King, Jr. himself. Now, he and his loving community must work to help heal the damage and hope that he can make a full recovery.

    I was inspired to write something about Nhat Hanh, who helped me overcome my own anxiety when I was overwhelmed after the birth of my first son. I didn’t know how to pay rent and support my family, and closing in on thirty without having accomplished anything of value in my life, I felt like a failure who was quickly running out of time.

    At Plum Village, Thich Nhat Hanh’s monastery in France, a bell sounds at various moments in the day. The bell is used to notify the monks, nuns, and other visitors of important events, such as the beginning of meditation sessions, lectures, and mealtime.

    But it’s also used for another reason. Any time the bell sounds, literally every waking soul at Plum Village stops. They all just… stop. And in that moment, while the bell sounds, they practice mindful breathing.

    Every monk, nun, and visitor breathes in with mindfulness and breathes out with mindfulness. This is the practice of “going home,” and it’s the practice of reuniting mind and body as one in order to find peace within ourselves.

    The way most of us live our lives, we’re halfway in our heads, bouncing around in an endless stream of thoughts, and halfway in the present moment, only partially awake to what we’re doing.

    This state of semi-consciousness, or mind dispersion, is a state where we’re unable to attain complete rest, our minds are perpetually clouded, we build up stress and anxiety, and we shut off our own source of creativity. In this state, we can never find peace or complete relaxation.

    This semi-conscious state, or mind dispersion, is what the Buddha often referred to as our “monkey mind.”

    Our monkey mind is constantly bouncing from one thought to another. We’re doing one thing (body) but thinking about another (mind).

    You’re driving home from work while you’re thinking about work, and then bills, and then dinner, and then that dinner date with your old friend coming up, and then your daughter’s school project, and then whatever happened to your favorite band because they seemed to drop off the map, and then “When was that TV special again?”

    Then you think about work again, oh and then that sounds good for dinner, and then you look in your overhead mirror and think, “I look tired today,” and then a Sit-And-Sleep commercial for some reason pops into your head and so you start thinking about how you really should get a new mattress soon, and then you think about home again and how the day is passing so quickly, and then…it never ends.

    Mindfulness delicately brings the mind to rest and reunites body and mind as one force.

    When you walk to work, you’re walking to work, and you’re enjoying the walk with all of your being. You’re not thinking about what’s for dinner or what you’ll say to your boss about that project when you get into the office while walking.

    Your body is walking and your mind is at rest. When you drive home, you know you’re driving. You’re not letting yourself be distracted by the passing billboard advertisements or thinking about your overdue bills.

    You’re truly enjoying the drive home in peace and quiet. When you’re sitting down to play with your children, you’re fully present for them, giving them your complete and undivided attention. When you live with mindfulness you’re able to truly appreciate the presence of your loved ones.

    We can use the same principle of the bell used at Plum Village to find peace and relaxation in our everyday lives. By setting up simple alarm reminders on your phone or posting signs on the walls of your bedroom, restroom, or office, you can create your own “bell of mindfulness.”

    Set an alarm.

    Set an alarm to go off every hour, two hours, three hours, or whatever is comfortable for you. (I do once every hour.) Plan to just sit and be completely aware of your breathing for about one minute every time the alarm goes off. It’s just one minute, so it’s easy to fit it into your daily schedule.

    Stop and breathe mindfully.

    Every time the bell goes off, I imagine the bell sounding at Plum Village. No matter where I am, I transport myself to a place of peace and quiet.

    When this bell sounds, everything stops. I don’t listen to the excuses I try to give myself about “Oh, let me just finish this one thing,” or, “I’ll get to that in just a minute,” I stop everything and just breathe mindfully.

    No matter where I am, I stop. If I’m not comfortable, I immediately go somewhere that I am. Just breathe. Let this be your daily vacation time.

    No matter where you are, for one minute every hour you’re transported to a place where you can find peace and tranquility. When you come back you’ll feel refreshed and ready to tackle anything.

    Or, use signs.

    Toward that same end, you can also post physical signs that you type or handwrite and place them on the wall of rooms you walk into every day, such as your restroom, kitchen, office, and even your car. You can write or draw whatever you want on it as long as it reminds you to be mindful during your daily life.

    For instance, you could have a poster or sign that symbolizes breathing meditation in your bedroom that sits on the back of your door. This way, each time you walk out of your bedroom in the morning, you’re reminded to stop and breathe mindfully for a moment before exiting.

    If you tend to rush around at the office and build up most of your stress and anxiety there, you can place one on the back of your office door or laminate and place a small one on the surface of your desk.

    It doesn’t matter what you use, as long as it reminds you to be mindful throughout your day and helps you find peace and joy in the present moment. Use the bell of mindfulness to ground yourself to the present moment, and find peace and joy in each and every day.

  • A 4-Minute Animated Video Course on Training Your Brain for Happiness

    A 4-Minute Animated Video Course on Training Your Brain for Happiness

    If your brain is very unhappy, like Brody, who’s full of fear and self-doubt, take a few minutes to watch this cute little video. Happiness can be quite simple when we learn how to train our brain.

  • We All Deserve to Receive What We Need (and It’s Not Selfish)

    We All Deserve to Receive What We Need (and It’s Not Selfish)

    Woman with Open Arms

    “We think that we have to learn how to give, but we forget about accepting things, which can be much harder than giving…Accepting another person’s gift is allowing him to express his feelings for you.” ~Alexander McCall Smith

    We all know the importance of giving. In fact, it feels rather nice to give to others; we have all experienced that warm glow in the stomach when we do something thoughtful for another person or exchange kind words. To make someone smile is one of the best feelings in the world.

    But sometimes, do we get so caught up in the giving that we forget to receive? And in doing so, do we give too much?

    I have always been a people pleaser.

    My parents were divorced when I was five years old. It was a complicated situation, one that I didn’t fully understand as a child.

    My sister and I grew up with our grandparents, having contact with our dad during holidays, while the contact with our mum dwindled down to nothing.

    I hadn’t realized until recently that my five-year-old self felt completely abandoned by my parents. We never talked about the situation as a family; feelings were not something you shared, so they stayed bottled up.

    I grew up with the belief, deep down, that my parents left me because I wasn’t good enough.

    As a consequence, I tried my best to be as agreeable as I could to everyone around me. This meant having no opinion, going along with what others wanted all the time, not communicating my needs, and trying my best not to upset anyone.

    Then maybe, I would be good enough to love. This was pretty exhausting.

    I developed OCD for a period of time, frequently staying in the bathroom for hours, performing hand-washing rituals until my hands were raw and brushing my teeth until my gums bled.

    If I performed these rituals, bad things wouldn’t happen anymore. My granddad, who developed terminal cancer, eventually gave up his battle to the disease after a long period of suffering, and the rituals stopped.

    Instead, I sunk further into depression.

    As a result of my negative thinking patterns and my deeply held beliefs, I fell into a series of damaging relationships.

    Just wanting to be loved, by them, by anyone, I desperately tried to make things work with guys who were either not right for me or, more often than not, emotionally unavailable. I was replicating the relationships that I had known from my childhood.

    Relationships are equal give and take, not the constant giving that I had developed in the hope of making people love me back. Instead, ironically, this pushed people away.

    The thing was, I was desperately looking for love, when deep down, I didn’t like let alone love myself. Secretly, I believed I didn’t deserve to be loved. I wasn’t good enough for anyone; what could I offer to anyone?

    I would sleep with men early on in the relationship, figuring that giving my body was the only thing of worth that I could offer.

    It all came to a head when yet another relationship failed. Each time, the other person ended the relationship, which dealt a blow to my already fragile sense of self-esteem.

    I’d slide into depressive episodes with scary frequency, when I would cry constantly, finding it a mammoth task to even just get out of bed, having no interest in life and isolating myself from people.

    Then one day, I had serious thoughts of ending my life. It was then that I knew it was time to change.

    Reaching out and receiving the help I needed was the best decision of my life. I spoke to my GP who referred me on to a Cognitive Behavioral Therapy counsellor.

    This time, I was completely honest about what I was feeling; I told them about the suicidal thoughts, about not wanting to be here anymore so I wouldn’t feel the constant pain.

    It felt like a weight had been lifted. I was able to tell them everything. I have had counselling before, but it hadn’t been right for me. Like most things, you need to keep trying until you find what speaks to you.

    CBT, which challenges negative thoughts, helped me to realize that I was automatically thinking negatively. It showed me that my thoughts were not fact. I started to understand about my deeply held beliefs, which colored everything I thought.

    Above all, it showed me that I actually had needs and wants; there were things that I wanted to do with my time and not just go along passively with other peoples’ decisions.

    In giving all my time and attention to others and not taking the time to receive back from them, I was hiding from the fact that I didn’t feel I was worth other peoples’ efforts.

    I was hiding from myself that I had deep-rooted issues that needed to be dealt with—and that I needed people to help me to do this.

    There are a few things that I have learned through therapy:

    1. Show yourself that you are worth caring for by starting to care for yourself.

    A tendency of people pleasers is to give relentlessly without a thought for themselves. Take time for yourself, pamper yourself—do something kind for yourself each day.

    2. Allow others to help you when it is needed, and don’t be scared to reach out.

    You can start with small things, like asking a friend to pick up a parcel for you when they are passing the shop.

    3. Surround yourself with people who help make you feel good about yourself.

    I’m so lucky to have an incredibly supportive and loving sister who listens to me and helps when times are tough as well as good. Spend as much time as possible with people who reinforce your self-worth, not bring it down.

    4. Say “no” occasionally.

    It’s important to assess what your needs and wants are and communicate these with people. Saying “no” sometimes does not make you selfish; it means you are taking care of yourself, and you will attract more respect from others as a result.

    5. Keep a positive journal.

    Note anything that happens that makes you feel good—positive feedback from a boss, a kind word from your friend, a compliment from a stranger—and remember to accept these, not dismiss them.

    6. Think about what you want from life.

    Think about what makes you tick and therefore a more contented person, able to receive from others.

    I’ve discovered my passion for photography, which has built up my confidence and therefore lessened my need to please people all the time.

    7. Don’t be scared to have an opinion.

    Occasionally, we really don’t mind either way. But if you do genuinely have an opinion on something, don’t be scared to speak up. People want to know the real you, not someone you think they want.

    —

    I am working through this journey of self-discovery, and no doubt, always will be.

    I am learning to accept the good things that people do for me and the kind words they say. I’ve realized that you don’t have to be perfect for people to love you. You don’t have to constantly give for people to want to spend time with you.

    I am enough.

    For the first time in my life, I’m devoting the time and attention I normally would reserve solely for other people to myself. You don’t want to forget about others, but you also don’t want to forget about yourself.

    In doing so, I’m building up my sense of self-worth and becoming more able to accept love from others. And just maybe, I’m also letting that other person feel a warm glow in their stomach too.

    Woman with open arms image via Shutterstock

  • A Simple Shift in Perspective That Can Improve Your Relationships

    A Simple Shift in Perspective That Can Improve Your Relationships

    Friends Holding Hands

    “I would rather have a mind opened by wonder than one closed by belief.” ~Gary Spence

    Right after college, I joined AmeriCorps. Not really knowing what I wanted to do with my life, I decided to apply for a program teaching classes on HIV/AIDS. I knew a little about the subject, but I have family members affected by the disease.

    A couple of cities hosted the program, and I was accepted into the Chicago one. I’m from a small town in Colorado and, to me, Chicago was a huge city. Well, it is the third largest city in the US, but as people will tell you, it’s no New York City.

    After receiving extensive training and settling in, I was assigned to a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center mostly serving low-income minorities. I was a part of the health education unit.

    One of my first classes was to teach a group of incarcerated men transitioning back into society. I was going to teach them about HIV/AIDS and sexually transmitted diseases.

    Admittedly, I was nervous. Why would any of these guys pay attention to me? Are they even going to like me? These thoughts were racing through my head. 

    I remember walking into the classroom for the first time. It’s one of those moments you can vividly remember every detail of. Imagine a young white kid, plaid shirt tucked in, walking into a room of mostly African American men from poor Chicago neighborhoods.

    As I awkwardly walked into the room, everyone went silent. Perhaps it was my perception of that moment, but I have a distinct memory of the room falling silent and heads turning toward me. As a quiet guy, it was not something I reveled in.

    I can only imagine who they thought this nerdy looking guy was and what he was doing there. In that moment, I asked myself the same question. I was scared.

    As I made some small talk and introduced myself individually to them, the class started. Talking to people I didn’t know was hard enough, so this was a huge step for me.

    As I took a deep breath and tried to fully immerse myself in that moment, I said something that, looking back, would set the tone for the entire duration of the class.

    I said something like this: “As you now know, I’m going to be teaching you all about your health. But, it’s not about me teaching you. You all know a lot more than I do, and I want to let you know that I’m also here to learn from you.”

    The room fell silent for a couple of seconds. Then, one of the guys in the back of the room yelled, “Shawn, that’s not a problem. After I get out, I’ll give you a tour of the South Side. You’ll learn a lot real quick!”

    Other guys starting chiming in and laughing. I didn’t know if they were laughing at me or with me. But then, another guy reassured me and said, “Shawn, you’re going to do just fine. You’ll fit right in.” They welcomed me in and I felt at ease, like a weight was lifted off.

    Through this experience, I learned an important lesson about the human condition and personal relationships.

    I could have taught them all the facts in the world about HIV/AIDS and what they should and should not be doing. Anyone can do that. But to connect on a deeper level, to truly understand them, I had to remove my own biases.

    It was the first time I actually had to put myself in someone else’s shoes. I had to see things from their perspective before I could teach them anything. I had to truly understand where they were coming from. I had to understand their struggles, triumphs, and wisdom.

    There is a great story about a professor visiting a Japanese Zen Master. The professor wants to learn about Zen. He arrives and the Master begins pouring him a cup of tea.

    As the cup fills up, the Master continues to pour until the cup is overflowing. Astonished, the professor exclaims, “The tea cup is full. Why do you keep pouring?!”

    The Zen Master says, “You are full of knowledge. But before you learn Zen, you must first empty your tea cup.”

    For many years, I didn’t truly understand this lesson. Intellectually, I thought I understood the concept. But in that moment in Chicago, I experienced it. Looking back, I didn’t connect the lesson to that moment. It just felt like the right thing to do.

    To connect with people on a deeper level, you have to empty your own tea cup. Whether you are a son, daughter, mother, father, partner, spouse, teacher, student, mentor, coach, or supervisor, you have to be open to the wisdom of other people rather than intellectually try to figure them out.

    Over the next couple of months, we all grew closer together and they taught me more than I could have ever taught them.

    They had the experiential knowledge and the real world experience. They were open to learning the intellectual knowledge, but if I hadn’t let them know I was open to them, it could have easily become one-sided.

    I could have talked at them instead of with them.

    On the last day of class, we had some fun and talked about what we all learned in the class.

    At the end of class, the same guy on the first day of class spoke up again. “Shawn, don’t forget about our tour of the South Side.”

    We all laughed. We wished each other well and parted ways.

    Some of those guys I would see again in the building, and I often stopped by to say hello. I hoped the best for them, even though many of them (as they informed me) would end up back in the system.

    I never did see the man who offered me a tour. I frequently wonder if he ever made it. I may have taken him up on his offer.

    Those guys probably don’t remember me now, but I will never forget that experience and the wisdom they shared.

    We all connected on a deeper level, and a room full of strangers became some of my greatest teachers.

    Friends holding hands image via Shutterstock

  • Radically Accept What Is Instead of Labeling it “Good” or “Bad”

    Radically Accept What Is Instead of Labeling it “Good” or “Bad”

    Peaceful Woman

    “The boundary to what we can accept is the boundary to our freedom.” ~Tara Brach

    I was in the heart of my Ph.D. program when I received the diagnoses: OCD, depression, and binge eating disorder.

    It explained a lot, of course. All those years of anxiety, self-doubt, and intrusive thoughts were not normal after all. Eating to the point of gaining forty pounds in a few months was foreign to most people.

    I wanted an explanation. Why me?

    I had done everything right: I made a decent living, I was kind to everyone, and I was presenting my scientific research at international conferences. Why was I being punished?

    I turned to my past and looked for an explanation—something I could pin the blame on. Was it my parents? Had years of moving from place to place as a military child scarred me?

    What about my peers? Those uncomfortable years of being teased and bullied for my grades and general good-girl behavior must have led to this.

    Perhaps I was to blame? Had I overachieved my way to a mental health breakdown? Had I failed myself?

    Those first few months of therapy were the most difficult. I was forced to face all these questions and more, digging into my past and present with both fervor and hesitation. What if I didn’t like the person I found underneath all these layers of expectations?

    As I stripped away the beliefs I held about myself, I watched as my worst fears came to life. It appeared that I was to blame after all. I had allowed myself to take on everyone else’s feelings about me and make them my own.

    My self-identity was a conglomeration of things I had been told over the years. I was smart, I was capable, I was good, I was bossy, I was sweet, I was stubborn, and I was so many other adjectives.

    There was nothing inherently wrong with these descriptors, particularly the positive traits, but I didn’t necessarily relate to all of them.

    My family saw me as “a sweet girl,” when I felt more tart than saccharine.

    People told me I was book smart, when I knew that I was a good mix of both academic intelligence and common sense.

    Some who were uncomfortable with women in power called me bossy, when really I was assertive.

    I had brought this breakdown on myself, I thought. How could I have let others define who I would become? Why was I so weak?

    It was around this time that one of my therapists introduced me to the idea of radical acceptance.

    It’s a concept based in Buddhist philosophy that is used by psychologists to help their clients heal and accept challenges in their lives.

    Rather than encouraging us to decide whether something is good or bad, as we often do automatically, radical acceptance encourages us to simply accept that things are.

    We have a tendency to apply labels to things. In my story, I had been labeled as smart, an overachiever, a worrywart, and other things. In turn, I labeled my newfound mental health situation as a misfortune, a major obstacle, a life changer, and other (mostly negative) things.

    Imagine how much more freeing it would be to live a life apart from labels! The key to this mindset, of course, is to realize that your feelings about an event do not change the event itself.

    Let’s say you got into a car accident. You may feel angry, hurt, frustrated, and many other emotions. Those are all valid feelings, and you have a right to experience them.

    But your anger won’t undo the accident. The accident happened. The accident is.

    Let’s take this one step further, however.

    After the accident you become angry that you have become frustrated. How could you allow yourself to get worked up over something that you can no longer control?

    You can also attempt to radically accept your feelings.

    Your emotional reactions are natural, and it’s counterintuitive to get worked up over what you “should” be feeling. What you are feeling is neither a bad nor a good thing, it simply is.

    What situations might you apply radical acceptance to in your daily life?

    • You wake up later than you planned to.
    • Your cat throws up on your new rug.
    • You fail a test that you prepared for extensively.
    • Your partner overdrew the checking account.
    • You didn’t get the raise you were expecting at work.

    Imagine accepting each of these events as something outside your control and training yourself to not get worked up over unexpected circumstances.

    This is not an easy task, and it will take time to incorporate the practice into your daily life. Be gentle to yourself.

    —

    I dropped out of my Ph.D. program after my first year of therapy. My journey into my brain showed me that I was heading down a path that others had set for me, one that I had not bothered to ask myself about.

    This major change in my life was labeled by others. To outsiders, I was a quitter, I couldn’t handle the pressure of academia, and I was not living up to my potential.

    But for me, this was simply a change. It was neither good nor bad, it was merely different.

    Since my mental health breakdown, I’ve experienced a lot of changes, both in my life and in my career. Some of them have been good changes, and some of them have been bad.

    But I don’t allow myself to fall into that black-and-white thinking as easily anymore.

    I have learned to own my story and my circumstances, and I love myself more because of it.

    Change can be good; change can be bad. But, most often, change simply is.

    Peaceful woman image via Shutterstock

  • Stop Pushing Yourself: 10 Crucial Steps to Avoid Burnout

    Stop Pushing Yourself: 10 Crucial Steps to Avoid Burnout

    “I actually think burnout is the wrong description of it. I think it’s ‘burn up.’ Physiologically, that is what you are doing because of the chronic stress being placed on your body.” ~Richard Boyatzis

    Some years ago, when my mother told me that a friend of hers had experienced burnout, I didn’t really listen. Actually, I didn’t want to hear about it. I even felt irritated because she felt sorry for people who got burned out.

    My opinion was that they were just being ridiculous and exaggerating.

    It was an excuse, supported by a medical certificate from some doctor they knew well, so that they could stay home, plant basil in the garden, drink tea, and read good books in front of the fire. They were simply lazy folks who just couldn’t be bothered working.

    Some lessons are learned the hard way. Others, really hard. A last few change you for life.

    For me, burnout was life-changing; it turned my aggressive skepticism into factual knowledge. Almost annihilated by the beast of burnout, I’ve recovered, humbled and grateful to be alive.

    The other day I sat down and flipped through my journals from the past years. It was overwhelming. I felt so heartbreakingly sad for myself, for what I’ve put myself through.

    There was page after page of me worrying about alarming issues and symptoms I was experiencing, for a period of several years. There were lists of points I raised with my doctor, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. He kept saying the same thing over and over, but it was impossible for me to take it in.

    He said, “Be careful, Mrs. Torneryd. You have all the symptoms of a textbook burnout.” My answer was always the same: “I cannot get burned out. It can’t happen to me; I’m not that type of person.”

    Some of the points from my diary:

    • When in bed, I can’t remember if I’ve brushed my teeth.
    • I feel panic while driving; other cars are getting too close to me.
    • My skin is a mess, and my hair looks dead.
    • I’ve experienced three double-sided pneumonias over the past eleven months.
    • I have constant ringing in my ears.
    • Even when I sleep, I don’t let my head rest on the pillow.
    • I wake up around twenty times per night (cramp, sweat, pee).
    • I feel pressure over my chest, and I can’t breathe properly.
    • My heart is very often offbeat.
    • My intestines are destroyed; I look eight months pregnant ten minutes after every meal. I even pooped myself in the super-market—with no premonition.
    • My gallstones are stuck in the bile duct, requiring surgery.

    I was in a constant state of “I can’t do this anymore,” but there was nothing major I could change for instant relief. It was a combination of circumstances: the aftermath of bad choices, my workload, and my competitive character.

    Every part of me—body, mind, and soul—was desperate to stop the life-drenching feeling of having nothing left in me to give or take from. I was wasted, worn-out, and destroyed.

    Even so, I just kept going, repeating to myself, “When you’re down and out, there’s always 20% of your strength left” (a quote from martial art trainer). And I kept using my remaining strength over and over again.

    People talk about “hitting the wall.” I hit that wall about five years ago—full speed, head first.

    Since then, I’ve been forcing forward through concrete, screws, electric wires, and bricks. Then it happened: I made it through that thick wall, only to realize that on the other side was nothing but a fathomless, evil black hole. I fell until I crash landed, and then there was nothing left of me.

    On the 17th of February 2014, my body collapsed. I had my first full-blown panic attack, immediately followed by a second one.

    At first, it felt like my spine muscle cramped. I tried stretching and rubbing against a door post, in vain. I couldn’t breathe properly.

    My lungs started pumping frenetically, and I could do nothing to stop it. It felt like I was suffocating. I seriously thought that I was having a heart attack and would die. Eventually, I passed out.

    I finally accepted the message my body had been trying to communicate to me for years—I needed to make monumental changes in my situation, then and there, or I would lose my sanity, at the least.

    For the first four weeks of my sick leave, I did nothing but sleep. It was not by choice. I simply collapsed—on the sofa, my bed, and even on the floor. I just couldn’t stay awake.

    After the sleep marathon came sadness. I felt so incredibly sad, alone, and abandoned. I felt betrayed by society and my employer.

    When I didn’t feel any more sadness, I started my healing journey to peace and acceptance and began reading self-help books. Every day I made an effort to rescue myself.

    Eventually, a shift took place. Step-by-step, I built myself a ladder, careful not to go back to the wall I’d fallen out of, and I started to see the light at the top of that horrid black hole.

    You don’t need to push yourself to this point—not if you follow these steps to avoid an imminent burnout:

    1. Accept your limits.

    It is not admirable to push yourself when your body and mind beg you to stop.

    2. Clarify major energy thieves and avoid them.

    Limit your contact with people who drain you, make hurtful comments, and complain. Pay your bills on time. Clean your home so you feel calm there, not stressed and surrounded by chaos. Eat fresh food and spend less time distracting yourself with technology.

    3. Value yourself first.

    Fear of rejection is also self-rejection; stop worrying about others’ opinions.

    4. Get support and perspective.

    Trust someone close with your feelings and challenges.

    5. Ask for help.

    It actually feels quite wonderful to receive.

    6. Make choices that are good for you and make you happier, healthier, and stronger.

    Get enough sleep to keep cortisol (the stress hormone) levels down, and don’t skip breakfast!

    7. Get twenty minutes of sun every day.

    This gives your body the Vitamin D it needs to function properly, though you can also get it from a supplement.

    8. Get low-impact exercise three times per week.

    When we exercise, the brain releases the “happy hormone” endorphin.

    9. Don’t push yourself too far for the sake of progress.

    Strive to improve, but never push yourself if you feel it’s hurting you.

    10. Never ignore your intuition.

    Listen to your body and do all you can to be kind to yourself.

    Obviously, burnout is not some fake thing lazy folks pretend to have so they can stay home from work.

    It is a force that can knock you out completely, making it difficult to deal with the simplest of tasks, like taking a shower or cooking a meal; and almost impossible to handle normal things, like leaving your home, shopping for food, and answering phone calls.

    I officially apologize for all my previously judgmental thoughts on this area.

    You don’t get burned out because you’re too weak. You get burned out because you’ve tried to stay strong for way too long!

  • The Value of Following Your Dreams When They Don’t Make Money

    The Value of Following Your Dreams When They Don’t Make Money

    Child Pilot

    “The real measure of your wealth is how much you’d be worth if you lost all your money.” ~Unknown

    Five years ago, in a move I wasn’t sure was so brilliant at the time, I quit my career at a rapidly growing ASX-listed financial services organization, packed up my life, and flew to Thailand to pursue my love of scuba diving.

    I thought I was just going for twelve months, that I’d get it out of my system then return to Melbourne and settle down—get a job in the not-for-profit industry, buy a house, maybe get married and have kids, save for my retirement…the usual rite of passage. My unleashed spirit had different ideas.

    When you answer the call to adventure, you never know where you will end up.

    I fell in love with an Italian man, completed my Scuba Diving Instructor course, and spent the next few years splitting my time between Australia and Thailand.

    When our relationship ended, I returned to Melbourne “to be sensible,” to try and put down some roots and figure out, once and for all, what I was meant to do with my life.

    I returned to work with my former employer, but fifteen months later, when I was still trying to figure things out, the universe gave me a divine kick up the bum; I was suddenly and unexpectedly made redundant.

    Instead of finding another job, again I answered the call to adventure. Ten weeks later I was in Canterbury, England following the 2,000-kilometer Via Francigena pilgrimage route to Rome, living a dream.

    When I returned to Melbourne to integrate all that I had learned on my pilgrimage, my bank account had dropped way below my comfort level and the job market was really slow; employers didn’t seem to appreciate my unconventional life that appeared as (well-explained) gaps in my CV.

    Living in suburbia, I started to compare my life to my friends who were getting married, having kids, and buying houses. I looked at my dwindling bank account balance, ten-year-old car, and unpacked bags of clothes—the sum total of my life. I began to panic.

    From my economic studies, I know the opportunity cost of walking away from my career five years ago to follow my heart into adventure is close to a million.

    As a financial planning professional, I know that the longer you delay buying a house, the more you have to pay and the less achievable it becomes. And the longer you delay saving for retirement, the more you have to save or the longer you need to work.

    These are the realities of living in our modern world, where money is the common form of value exchange and it costs to live—to put shelter over your head, food in your belly, and clothes on your back.

    Acutely aware of this, I promised myself I would never ruin myself financially by living unconventionally. I feared that was exactly what I had done.

    As I walked those 2,000 kilometers alone, I discovered the quiet voice of wisdom that speaks up when I ask it for guidance, or it decides there is something I need to hear. In that moment of panic, it told me this:

    “Your net worth is not your life’s worth—don’t confuse the two.”

    Your net worth is not your life’s worth. There was instant relief in those words.

    My choices may have “cost” me a million, and my net worth may be a small fraction of that, but the real value of my experiences over the last five years transcends physical currency. The sights I have seen. The blessings I have received. The moments I have witnessed.

    Diving in the ocean with sharks and manta rays, watching a volcano erupt, crossing the Alps and the Apennines alone on foot, dancing ecstatically in the rain at a dance party in India, caring for street dogs and orphans, muddling through French and Italian conversations with locals, and watching the sun die a vibrant death hundreds of times.

    These experiences have transformed me and, because I am changed, affect the lives of those whose paths I cross like ripples on a pond.

    In a world that requires us to earn money, the popular pursuit of purpose these days is by offering your skills, talents, and abilities to earn money doing what you love—that is, to create a business outside of the traditional corporate environment and make that your purpose.

    But what if your dreams are not the type that will earn you money? And what if following your dreams requires that you walk away from a high-paying career, or that you spend your savings or forego buying a house so that you can live your dream?

    Often misconceived as selfishness, honoring and doing what transforms our inner selves is a way of being of service too; everyone who comes into contact with your ripples will benefit from that change, directly or indirectly, known or unknown.

    In this way, the return on investment from following your dreams is infinite, larger than you can ever quantify or know while you are in human form.

    But what about the cost of not following your dreams?

    How will you feel at the end of your life if you don’t give your dream a go? How will you feel living in a big ole house with plenty of cash in your bank account and very healthy retirement savings, but with your neglected dreams fading away in the corner?

    I know that one day, when I am old and dying, I won’t regret the things I never had, but I will regret the moments I didn’t seize and the adventures and growth I never experienced.

    I know that every time I have followed my heart and answered the call to adventure, even when I wasn’t sure where the money was going to come from or how it was all going to turn out, life has shown me that it will support me. It will support you, too.

    Although it might never be reflected in your net assets, follow your heart and your dreams, focus on growing your life’s worth, not just your net worth, and no matter where your life takes you or what your external wealth looks like, you will be truly en-riched.

    Child pilot image via Shutterstock

  • Why Accepting That You’re Not the Best Is the Key to Getting Better

    Why Accepting That You’re Not the Best Is the Key to Getting Better

    Medal

    “In fear, we expect; with love, we accept.” ~Kenny Werner

    It’s easy to let our ego and fear get in the way of our own success. I’m not talking about the aspects of ego that create a desire to “win” over others, which plague some more than others; I’m talking about the more inherent aspects of our inward facing ego that plague us all.

    When I was in high school I played a lot of piano. For Christmas one year, my dad (a professional musician) gave me a book called Effortless Mastery.

    It was a book that, among other things, taught one how to practice. The author spoke about the importance of learning how to practice in order to improve one’s skill. Sounds like common sense, right? Well, sort of.

    You see, most people don’t really like to practice much of anything.

    When I was a kid I learned a few really impressive songs on piano. My favorite was “Swanee River” in a boogie-woogie style. I practiced it and practiced it until my fingers could dance around like little people on the keys.

    Once I had learned that song, I played it over and over and over again. I used to tell myself I was “practicing,” but really I just enjoyed sounding good, so I would play it repeatedly, never really improving. I had been playing piano for over ten years, but I had never really learned to practice.

    Practicing is intentionally sounding bad in order to get better, and what I was doing was performing for myself. Quite a bit of life can be spent performing for oneself, which can act as a real barrier to knowledge, the kind of knowledge that requires vulnerability to acquire.

    If all you ever do is perform, then you’re not really learning and growing. If you’re afraid of practicing because you might sound bad or fail, then you will never really master anything.

    If you’re not willing to accept being anything but the best, then you will never gain knowledge and develop the skills that come from learning from others who are better than you.

    I’ve spent over ten years thinking about that book and reflecting on it in different ways, and I’ve finally learned how to put my thirst for knowledge ahead of fears.

    My interests and hobbies have come a long way from when I was a kid. Back then, I took up anything and everything that I was good at. It’s not to say that I didn’t genuinely love the activities I was doing, because I really did, but I wanted to do things that offered me the opportunity to be the best.

    My first foray into the realm of activities that I wasn’t naturally gifted in was triathlon. After high school I took up the sport. I had been running all my life. While swimming came very naturally to me, cycling did not.

    I began to sort of thrive in the zone of discomfort that I lived in throughout my years cycling. I would ride with people who were so much better than me and they would push me harder and harder every week.

    I remember at one point, I had a game going with my cycling buddies where when we reached a hill, they would keep cycling to the top and then back down again, repeating this until I reached the top.

    I began to grow a little less uncomfortable knowing that I wasn’t the best at this sport. So much so that I was able to laugh at myself as one by one competitors would pass me on the bike leg of the race, after I had come out on top in the swim.

    If you were to look at my life today, you would find a person who participates in a range of activities (in my personal life, my career, and academically), from ones where I excel to those at which I am less than mediocre.

    My husband has helped me along on this journey, because he doesn’t have a competitive bone in his body, so I’ve learned to derive enjoyment from things other than winning and to be less afraid of losing.

    I’ve taken up things like crafting. I love it and I’m really quite terrible at it. I mean, I can do simple projects, but give me a glue gun and materials and watch out, because I’m bound to mess something up.

    I really love rock climbing. I’m middle of the road (and that might be a stretch) within the group of people I climb with. And I recently finished a research project for a degree I was working on and I took up interpretive research, a paradigm that I was completely lost in.

    I have learned to take absolute pride in not being the best. As much as I love being a mentor, I’ve discovered that I really love being a student too! I love the vulnerability that is present and how real it feels when I openly acknowledge my weaknesses and areas for improvement.

    I’m perfectly okay knowing that I’m not the best, and I’m even more okay knowing that in certain activities, I never will be.

    In activities where performing counts (like my career), I’ve learned that it’s okay (even desirable) to make mistakes.

    I declare freely when there’s something that I don’t know. Ask me at an interview what my greatest weakness or area for improvement is, and you won’t get a cliché answer that I’m too attached to my work—you’ll get the real deal.

    In this territory of discomfort, failure, and ‘sounding bad,’ I have found what it really means to have a willingness to learn.

    I accept what I don’t know and learn what I can. I practice many things every day (from communication in my relationships to skills in my career), and as a result, I learn and grow every day.

    Here’s how you too can overcome your fears, embrace failure, and learn every day:

    1. Try something new that interests you but doesn’t come naturally to you.

    I think most people have at least one activity that they might like to try but don’t out of fear of being bad at it.

    Maybe it’s singing, maybe it’s drawing, maybe it’s public speaking. Pick an activity that you’re not good at and try it out for a while. Embrace the discomfort and insecurity that you’ll experience being less than the best, and have fun with it!

    2. Ask more questions.

    When you ask questions, you display vulnerability; you’re acknowledging that there is something that you don’t know that others do.

    Asking questions doesn’t always come easily for people who derive their confidence from a sense of success. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, and ask lots of them. People appreciate sincere questions and the opportunity to teach.

    3. Lift others up.

    Take some time to tell those around you how great they are, and celebrate in their successes.

    Have a friend that you run with who runs faster? Tell them. Have a coworker who has organizational skills that you could learn from? Tell them. Have a significant other who communicates better than you do? Tell them.

    Communication is the gateway to learning. When you tell someone about a skill or trait of theirs that you appreciate and could learn from, it empowers them and gives them the confidence to own that skill/trait. The more they own it, the more you can learn from them.

    4. Don’t beat yourself up.

    When you’re used to being good at everything you do, it’s going to feel very awkward to be less than the best. Don’t allow negative self-talk.

    I often catch myself jokingly saying, “I just suck at this” during my weekly rock climbing sessions, but all that’s doing is re-focusing on a win/lose attitude. Instead, speak kindly to yourself, and focus on how much your improving and what you can do rather than what you can’t.

    5. Think about the fun you’re having.

    Reflect on things that you do in your life and why you enjoy them. Acknowledge the aspects of your life where you derive pleasure out of perfectionism and those where you derive pleasure from other sources.

    Those other sources will be the key to finding more enjoyment out of new experiences and activities that don’t involve your ego.

    6. Be enthusiastic about failure.

    Don’t just accept failure as part of life; welcome it in with open arms! Sometimes the only way to learn is through complete and utter failure. It’s what you do with the failure that counts.

    Next time you’re working on something in your life (maybe a work project, maybe a relationship), acknowledge when what you’re doing goes belly up and think objectively about what went wrong. Don’t look at failure as an extension of you; see it as the only journey that leads to true success.

    As the great Winston Churchill once said, “Success is the ability to jump from one failure to the next with enthusiasm.”

    Medal image via Shutterstock

  • 3 Things I Did to Relax When I Was Stressing About Reaching My Goals

    3 Things I Did to Relax When I Was Stressing About Reaching My Goals

    “Every day brings a choice: to practice stress or to practice peace.” ~Joan Borysenko

    Stress and my own expectations were killing me. I was taking care of my physical health with exercise four to five days a week, eating right with lots of plants and vegetables, and sleeping enough, but my health was getting bad.

    I had IBS that was getting worse, and I wasn’t sleeping well (even though I spent enough hours in bed). In other words, I was doing everything right, or rather, all the external physical stuff right.

    I was doing something that virtually everyone agreed was going to make me happier: I was building a side business to fund my freedom from my day job.

    Finally, I had taken the plunge to pursue one of my biggest, scariest, most exciting dreams.

    I would fantasize about being able to do what I was passionate about every single day: help people live healthier, happier, more “whole” lives.

    I couldn’t wait to turn in my two weeks notice and wake up every single day early in the morning with the fire and passion to make a difference in people’s lives—and actually get paid to do it! It sounded like a dream come true.

    Fast-forward one year: I still hadn’t quit my job, and I was living in a nightmare.

    Some days I had slight panic attacks because I would tell myself I would quit my job soon, but my passion business wasn’t making enough money for me to quit comfortably without freaking out.

    The expectations I put on myself were crushing me; I thought I would be at a certain benchmark by a certain date, and I hoped I would be somewhere that I currently wasn’t in my business.

    I was being crushed and crumpled under the weight of my own expectations and goals.

    Something that originally woke me up in the morning inspired and ready to roll was now drudgery—something that I constantly associated with pain and failure.

    There weren’t enough clients, there were too many things I was trying to figure out, working twelve or more hours a day was wearing me out, and I was nearing burnout.

    Nothing seemed to be enjoyable anymore. And one night, when I (yet again) couldn’t sleep, I had an “aha” moment.

    “What a horrible irony. I started this side thing, working on my passion every day, with the hope of one day getting compensated for doing something I loved. And now I wake up every day dreading both my job and my ‘passion’ business. How did it get to this point?”

    After sitting down to think about my own goals, my passion, and what was destroying my happiness, I learned a few things:

    1. Remove expectations and find flow.

    So much of the initial stress was self-imposed. Actually, all of the stress I had each day was self-imposed.

    I thought back and realized that I’d stressed myself out with almost every goal: health goals around the New Year, personal finance goals, and now my own business/passion goal.

    How often do we place these expectations on ourselves—“I’m going to lose thirty pounds in sixty days!”—and once we don’t reach them, get crushed and quit?

    The more this happens, the more our self-esteem suffers, and the more we internalize the story that “I’m a failure.”

    Even though I needed money in order to quit my job, I did a test: iInstead of focusing on the bottom line, I focused just on flow.

    I focused purely on the things I enjoyed the most, the things I was most motivated to work on, and I focused on pushing myself forward every single day rather than meeting random goals like “losing thirty pounds in the next two months.”

    2. Focus on growth, not hard deadlines.

    By far, the best thing I ever did for myself was set only one goal: get better each day.

    No other goals and no more deadlines.

    Deadlines always produced massive stress in my life. Did they work? Sure, sometimes.

    But every time they resulted in pressure and discomfort. And often they didn’t work because I didn’t accurately estimate how much time it would take to achieve them, since I was doing things for the first time.

    Whereas every day used to be stressful because I was always measuring how I stacked up against my goals, now every day was enjoyable because I just focused on getting better each day.

    To say this was a major relief would be an understatement!

    3. Forget the timeline and focus on enjoyment.

    There’s an old Tony Robbins saying that goes something like this: “Most people overestimate what they can do in one year but underestimate what they can do in ten years.”

    Almost all the anxiety, panic, lost sleep, and stress occurred because I had an artificial timeline: I wanted to quit my job now. So I wanted to reach XYZ goal by XYZ date—and when I didn’t, it would cause anxiety and panic because I was resisting reality.

    As an experiment, I spent thirty days without any timeline.

    That meant no goals, no benchmarks, nothing.

    It didn’t happen overnight, but over the coming months I slowly regained that passion, love, and zest I had for life. And my “passion” business regained its former “passion,” which had disappeared in the face of my expectations, stress, and anxiety.

    I’m proud to say with these three subtle mental shifts that dramatically simplified my life, removed deadlines and pressure, I was able to focus on self-growth and my sanity returned.

    At the end of the day, the self-imposed stress and anxiety caused by deadlines and setting too many goals were more damaging than the benefit.

    I realized that it was only once I stopped trying to control everything and trusted the process things started to happen.

    When we release expectations and focus on enjoying every day and working our hardest on growth—not madly achieving our goals as quickly as possible—that’s ironically when we reach our goals faster, and with less stress, than ever.