Tiny Buddha

Tag: Help

  • How to Be There for Others Without Taking on Their Pain

    How to Be There for Others Without Taking on Their Pain

    “Letting go helps us to live in a more peaceful state of mind and helps restore our balance. It allows others to be responsible for themselves and for us to take our hands off situations that do not belong to us. This frees us from unnecessary stress.” ~Melody Beattie

    When our loved ones suffer, it’s hard not to get swept up in their pain. We want so desperately to fix them, to take away their hardship, and to see them flourishing.

    As a control freak, I often find myself going into “fixer mode” when my partner is struggling with work stress, which only makes me more anxious when nothing I suggest works, and him more frustrated when I get so preoccupied with his issues.

    Then, after all my frantic attempts at control, there’s a little voice inside that tells me to stop. To listen. To be there for him without trying to change anything. To witness his pain and sit next to him while he feels it.

    In this way, it’s not my job to fix his problems. It’s my job to be there for him with love as he figures out how to handle his own suffering. I am freed from feeling the responsibility of taking on his pain.

    Here are a few tips for how to not get overwhelmed when others are suffering.

    Realize that being supportive doesn’t mean fixing their problems.

    I often think back to when my mental health was at its worst. I dealt with debilitating panic disorder, agoraphobia, and depression, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for my family to see me suffering so greatly.

    But what I am most grateful for during that time is that my loved ones never tried to fix me. They didn’t become obsessed with finding a solution, and they didn’t rush me to get better. All of that would have increased my anxiety tenfold.

    Instead, they simply supported me. They constantly let me know that they were there for me if I needed them. Just knowing that I had someone to count on if things got hard was incredibly helpful.

    One way we can be supportive of others is to practice listening without the intent to respond with solutions. What would that be like if we simply held space for others without needing to respond?

    I took a yoga workshop recently where we partnered up with a stranger and took turns sharing our struggles. The one not speaking had to simply listen and was not allowed to respond.

    So we practiced listening with our whole bodies, hearts, and minds, released from the need to think of something to say in return. Instead, we got to be a loving witness to this person’s experience.

    Sometimes all that our loved ones need is to be seen and to know that someone is there for them.

    Allow them to find their own way.

    This can be hard. It’s hard to let go of control so much that you allow other people to have their own journeys. If my family or partner had stepped in during my rough patches with panic disorder, I wouldn’t have gone through the trenches of it myself.

    I wouldn’t have learned my own strength. I wouldn’t have been so amazingly transformed, body, mind, and soul, as I am now.

    At that time, I didn’t need someone to take away my pain; I needed someone to be there with love and patience as I experienced my own pain.

    Can we offer loving suggestions? Sure. Can we help them in productive ways? Of course. But at the end of the day, it is their lesson to learn. And we have to practice letting go of the outcome.

    When a relative passed from cancer a couple of years ago, it was horrifying to see her transform from a vibrant woman to a frail, bedridden one, writhing in pain. Those last few days, she lost her vision. She couldn’t eat or drink. All she wanted was for the suffering to end.

    After witnessing this, I automatically wanted to take on that pain. I felt it as my own. I started to suffer the pain she was experiencing.

    Eventually, I had to realize that this was her journey. This was her pain, not mine, and I didn’t have to take that on. It actually doesn’t help anyone or anything for us to carry around pain that isn’t even ours.

    Realize that you’re only responsible for yourself.

    You can’t control other people. You can’t control who suffers and who doesn’t. And what a burden that would be if we felt we needed to safeguard everyone in our lives from pain. That’s too overwhelming.

    You are only responsible for yourself. So how can you take better care of yourself as you care for others?

    If there’s someone in your life who is going through a rough time, you have to respect your own limits. You have to set boundaries in how much you can safely and lovingly give.

    Giving to others when we are depleted ourselves doesn’t serve us, and it doesn’t serve them if they aren’t receiving your help out of love, but out of obligation or fear.

    Instead, find ways you can care for and respect yourself so that you can be available as a support if that feels appropriate and safe for you.

    Practice grounding back into your own body and energy field often.

    When we’re caring for others, we may have a tendency to take on their energy. It’s like when we’re around an angry person. Even if we’re not angry ourselves, we may feel our heart quicken, our breathing become shallow, and our temperature start to rise.

    Practice grounding back into your own body so that you can recognize what’s yours and what is not.

    One way to do this is to get physical, connecting back to your own body through yoga, exercise, and dance.

    Immerse yourself in nature. I love to go hiking when I get overwhelmed with others’ energy and allow the grounding energy of the earth to support me. Spend time alone.

    Anything you can do to bring your attention back to your own body will serve you in grounding your energy.

    —

    It can be very difficult to separate ourselves from others and to let go of needing to take away our loved ones’ pain. It’s something I still struggle with, but I’m learning every day that I am not responsible for anyone else. I can be there with love and kindness, but beyond that is out of my control.

    All I can control is how well I care for myself, so that this love can then ripple out in support of others.

  • Addicted to Helping: Why We Need to Stop Trying to Fix People

    Addicted to Helping: Why We Need to Stop Trying to Fix People

    Caregiver

    “Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.” ~Pema Chodron

    After college, I was hustling hard to get a work visa so that I could stay in the US.

    But then my mom got caught up in a political scandal, and without much reflection on how much this would alter my life’s plans, I dropped my dream of staying in America, drove 1,000 miles, and flew another 500 to be by her side.

    Would she have crumbled without me there? My mama is a tough chick, so I highly doubt it.

    But at the time, I (subconsciously) believed that when the ones we love are hurting, their pain trumps everything. Their pain gets top priority, and whatever goals and dreams we’ve been working toward now pale in comparison.

    At the time, I thought that love meant tending to the other person’s needs first, always.

    And this form of self-sacrifice came naturally to me (I’d behaved this way even as a young child), so I was lucky, right? Having inherent caregiver qualities is a beautiful gift, right?

    Yes. And maybe not.

    Are You a Natural Caregiver?

    You’ll know if you have this trait too, because people will often tell you their secrets mere minutes after meeting you.

    When someone has just been in a car accident or broken up with their boyfriend, you wrap your arms around them and for the first time that day, their body fully relaxes.

    People tell you they feel at home in your presence. Safe. Heard. Cared for.

    There’s so much beauty in having a trait like this. Without much effort, you nurture and care for those around you. It is a gift you give us all.

    But there’s another side to the caregiver coin.

    Helping other people can become addictive. It can begin to feel like the only way to show your love is to prostrate yourself at the needs of others.

    Oh, you’re hurting? Lemme swoop in and save the day.

    Oh, you’re broke? Lemme dump my savings into your bank account and all will be well.

    Oh, you’re single again? Lemme set you up with my neighbor’s son.

    Whatever your ailment, I’ve got a fix for you!

    And the gratitude from the people we’re supposedly ‘fixing’ tends to flow so steadily that we become convinced of the healthiness of our stance.

    We’re confident that healing every sore spot we see is not only natural and enjoyable, but it’s the main reason we were put on this planet.

    When you carry the Nurturer Gene, fixing other people can easily become a destructive self-identity. 

    You will martyr yourself over and over again in order to meet the invisible quota of Lives Helped that floats above your head.

    You will obsessively analyze how every choice you make might impact those around you.

    You will assess every meal, every dollar spent, every vacation taken (or not taken) based on how it will impact the people you feel a responsibility to care for.

    Because, in this unhealthy version of caregiving, our understanding of love has become warped. Love now looks like a relentless string of sacrifice.

    Your thoughts might go something like this:

    If I don’t love her with my constant presence, she will feel sad and lonely.

    If I don’t love him with my attentive eye observing everything, he’ll get sick again, or maybe even die.

    If I don’t love them with my efficiencies managing everything, someone will get hurt. Things will go very wrong if I’m not here to take care of them all.

    Sometimes, love calls on us to invest our energy and time in tending to someone else’s pain.

    But not 100% of the time. And not with the nurturing going down a one-way street, pouring out of the same person, over and over again.

    If you see this pattern in any of your relationships, consider what it would take to expand your definition of what it means to nurture, to love, to care for.

    A healthy caregiver not only nourishes the needs of others, but also nourishes her own.

    Holistic nourishment. Nourishment of the whole of us, for all of us—which includes you.

    Self-nourishment might look like hiring a babysitter so you can have a romantic getaway with your hubby.

    Self-care might mean taking the job on the other side of the country, even though it means you’ll only see your parents twice a year.

    Self-love might be quietly soaking in a bubble bath instead of probing everyone for a detailed account of their day.

    You are not responsible for the world’s pain.

    Share your talents and resources. Generously give your time and attention. But you cannot pour a magical tonic on the wounds of every person walking the planet. It’s not your job. And if it were, it’d be a sucky job because you’d fail at it every single day.

    Especially when we identify as being “spiritual,” we can lift up words like “compassion,” “generosity,” and “kindness” to such a degree that we forget that even “compassion” sometimes must say no.

    Even “generosity” has to allocate some of her resources for herself.

    And even “kindness” must muster the nerve to walk away sometimes.

    If you are the person in your relationship or family or company that defaults to caregiver and wound-tender, give thanks for the ease with which you dish out your love.

    But be careful about inhaling that caregiver role to such a degree that your identity becomes dependent on having someone nearby to nurture.

    Give your love. Freely and deeply.

    And trust that even if you’re not there to ‘fix’ them, everyone will be just fine.

    Photo by Valerie Everett

  • Help People, Even If They Can’t Help You Back

    Help People, Even If They Can’t Help You Back

  • How to Use Silence to Help Your Hurting Friend

    How to Use Silence to Help Your Hurting Friend

    “Sitting silently beside a friend who is hurting may be the best gift we can give.” ~Unknown

    There’s a time for words and a time for silence. Thankfully, when I went through one of the darkest periods of my life, I had friends who knew what time it was.

    When things go well, your friends don’t usually need to show up in silence. But everything changes when you go through a season of intense pain and disappointment. I know this from firsthand experience.

    My life took a drastic turn for the worse when the first ride of the season on our motorcycle ended abruptly. A driver who should have stopped and waited turned left onto the highway, right in front of us. In that moment, we met a world of hurt.

    After the initial crash, which I barely survived, I experienced incredible peace and gratitude. I was in a great deal of pain, but I found myself grateful for my family, the excellent care I was receiving, and hope for a better future.

    In the early days of repair and recovery, I appreciated the friends and family who came to visit. I enjoyed hearing their news and talking about my journey. I read, with gratitude, the cards that were filled with words of encouragement and love.

    But I also appreciated the times when words were not spoken. My true friends would watch me fall asleep in the middle of a conversation and not be bothered. They knew I needed the rest and were okay sitting in silence.

    When Silence Meant the Most

    At the four-month point of my recovery, the pain and loss took a turn for the worse. An infection in my leg that was supposed to be killed two months earlier was alive and well. It resulted in an unexpected re-admittance to the hospital and a painful fourth surgery.

    After that fourth surgery, the reality of my situation started to sink in. My body would never be the same again. The next marathon I was planning to run would never see me at the starting line. The door into a brand new work opportunity that opened up just before the accident was slammed shut.

    As the losses mounted, my infected leg throbbed under the pain of reconstruction. I slipped into depression and struggled to find relief physically and emotionally. The pain medicine took the edge off the physical pain but the emotional pain was relentless.

    At one particular low point in the hospital bed, my wife and two life-long friends sat with me. In the void of silence, something powerful happened. I started to cry shallow tears at first, but then guttural sobs that came from the deep pain I was feeling.

    At that point in my hurt, I would have snapped had someone told me, “It will be okay. Hang in there. You’ll get through this.” Those words would have felt like patronizing pity and been no comfort at all.

    What I was given in the silence was the best gift I could have received. I wasn’t out of the woods, but I had moved ever so slightly in the direction of healing and being present with my pain and struggle.

    I had a similar experience two days later in the same hospital room. Another dear friend came to visit, not with answers or platitudes, but with support and a willingness to sit in silence. He received my tears in silence without feeling awkward and left having given me a gift.

    Life Lessons on How to Help a Hurting Friend

    Through my experience with silence, I harvested several takeaways. I apply these lessons to myself and give them to you as you seek to help those in your life who hurt.

    Human Companionship Helps Carry the Pain

    When you go through a painful experience, part of the load only you can carry. Part of the load, however, can be shared by companions who travel with you. My friends drove me around, shoveled my driveway, looked after my work, and brought me the snacks I really enjoyed. But they also helped me carry my pain.

    Carrying the pain of another can be a challenging task, but when it happens, it’s like a cup of cold water on a hot day. When my friends sat with me in silence while I hurt physically and emotionally, they provided reassurance and support so I would keep going and not lose hope.

    Well-Placed Words Can Be a Comforting Distraction

    Sometimes we use words because we’re uncomfortable with silence. Sometimes we use words because we’re uncomfortable with pain and suffering. But words offered at the right time and in the right way can also be life giving.

    The words I appreciated when in pain were the stories of life and experiences in the outside world. I enjoyed hearing about the holidays taken to warm places, babies being born, and the jokes being told.

    The stories became a comforting distraction from the pain and difficulty I was experiencing. There were times when I wasn’t in the mood for their stories, but if that was the case, I would just simply tell them and they would revert to silence.

    Friends Give Us Strength to Hold Our “Why?”

    When I carried an overwhelming load of loss and grief, I asked “Why?” Asking “Why?” is a natural response to loss. The problem comes when we demand an answer and never get to a place of accepting our situation.

    The friends who helped me while I was asking “Why?” were the ones who didn’t try to answer the question but sat in silence and allowed the question to be the elephant in the room.

    I felt strength when my friends held “Why?” with me without needing an answer or making me feel bad for asking.

    Friends Remind Us We’re Not Alone

    Online social networks meet a certain need for connection, but when we’re in pain, they’re not enough. You need warm-blooded people to be present with you when you hurt. I certainly did. Having friends like or comment on my Facebook status helped, but it wasn’t enough.

    The presence of a true friend who is able to sit in silence meets the human need for connection and affects us more than we know. You know it matters because when you are alone for too long, depression and despair starts to set in.

    Just By Being Present, Friends Might Be Doing Enough

    When I was in pain the physiotherapist forced me to get out of bed the day after surgery, I dreaded it. I knew I needed to get moving again, but the pain and struggle was intense. What helped was a friend or family member who walked in silence beside or behind me.

    My friends saw my pain and struggle and couldn’t take it away. What they could do was be present, and when they did, made my life just a little easier to endure.

    Who in your life is in a world of hurt? Who could you help, not with words, but with your presence?

    If you don’t have the right words, don’t worry. Your presence and willingness to sit in the silence may be the best gift you could give your friend.

  • 7 Simple Ways to Give Back to the World When You Have Little Time or Money

    7 Simple Ways to Give Back to the World When You Have Little Time or Money

    “I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catchers mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.” ~Maya Angelou

    Being charitable is often seen as a zero sum game, giving away our time or money for the benefit of others. As uplifting as it may be to give to a cause you care about, most of us feel we lack the authority to truly make things happen.

    I discovered the transformative power of helping others when I was eight years old. My friends and I had imaginations like other children, but in the summer of 1989 our ideas became action—we organized an event to raise money for a local leukemia charity.

    Every day, on a patch of grass by the river, in the shadow of a 10th century abbey, my friends and I would play soccer. As it was the summer holiday and we had never stayed up all night, we conceived of a marvelous plan to organize a sponsored, all-night soccer match.

    What we lacked in official charity affiliation, we made up for in enthusiasm. We walked for miles, knocking on every single door to obtain sponsors for our unconventional soccer match. We asked anyone that sponsored us how many goals we’d score during the night. The person who came closest would win a signed ball from the local professional soccer club.

    Within two days we managed to collect over 100 pounds in sponsor funds. More importantly, we had planted a seed in ourselves, a raison d’etre.

    People arrived to show their support, cheering with each goal that we scored well into the balmy summer evening. As the sun set, only we kids were left, with my dad as the sole spectator. Our motivation never waned as we played into the early hours of Sunday morning.

    The pride and sense of achievement we gained from helping that leukemia charity led me to a profound realization: Positively impacting others is far more meaningful than the satisfaction of a personal goal that wears off after a day.

    Time after time I hear people say that either a lack of time or money prevents them from volunteering or donating to a cause. It isn’t that they don’t care; it’s just that they don’t feel empowered to actually do anything. After hearing this collective frustration from so many people who wished they could do more, I decided to compile this list.

    What if there were various ways you could help others without sacrificing your already-tight budget or precious free time? Below are six small changes you can make in your daily life that have a stunning social impact over time.

    1. Amazon Smile

    As the light of the laptop glows upon my face and the dopamine rush of retail therapy hits, my late night Amazon shopping spree is an unexpected source of social good. With their low prices and free two-day Prime shipping, Amazon is my go-to source when shopping online.

    Over 250 million people use Amazon, but only a fraction use Amazon Smile, a simple and automatic way to support your favorite charity. When you shop through smile.amazon.com, you’ll find the same selection and low prices with an added bonus: Amazon will donate 0.5% of the price of your purchases to your favorite charity. The donation is automatic after checkout.

    Over the past twelve months I have spent an embarrassing $2,800 at Amazon, and often, when buying impulsively, I would forget to visit smile.amazon.com. But since installing a Google Chrome extension, I am automatically redirected to smile.amazon.com when I click on any Amazon link or navigate to amazon.com in my browser.

    Annual Impact: $2,800 x 0.05 = $14

    2. Charity Miles

    Most of us walk, some of us run, while others prefer to cycle. What if we could not only improve our health from daily exercise, but also do social good as we sweat? Over the past few years I have been on a quest to run a marathon on every continent to help raise awareness and funds for refugees, and the Charity Miles app has helped to multiply my fundraising efforts.

    Charity Miles sends money to a charity of your choosing for each mile that you walk, hike, run, or cycle. Simply download the app for your Android or iOS device, select a charity, and then perform your exercise as you normally would.

    The charity that you select earns money for every mile completed. Walkers, hikers, and runners earn $.25 per mile; bikers earn $.10 per mile. The app even has an indoor mode if you prefer to use the treadmill.

    Total Effect = 1,200 miles of running = $300
    600 miles of walking = $155
    600 miles of cycling = $60

    Annual Impact: $515

    3. GoodSearch.com

    The most common online activity besides browsing social media is searching. We use search engines to help us at work, with our personal lives, when shopping, and in just about every scenario imaginable. Search engines are how we find information.

    GoodSearch is touted as a philanthropic search engine. Instead of instinctively heading to Google, start using GoodSearch instead and contribute to the millions of dollars already raised for charity. To remember to do this, just replace Google as your browser’s default homepage. In addition, shopping through GoodShop allows you to donate to charity just like Amazon Smile does.

    Annual Impact= 5 searches a day x 365 = $18.25

    4. FreeRice.com

    Brain-training games have become a big business over the past few years with companies such as Lumosity and Elevate dominating the niche. But rather than paying money to exercise your brain, flex your neurons and help a charity at the same time with FreeRice.com.

    For each question you answer correctly, Freerice.com donates ten grains of rice to the World Food Programme. The game is surprisingly therapeutic. It helps me to decompress after a long day, and it allows me to multitask: learning new information while effortlessly donating to charity. After just five minutes of game-time I earned 750 grains of rice for the World Food Programme.

    Annual Impact: 750 x 365 = 273,750 grains of rice or 9.4lbs

    5. The Hunger Site

    The Hunger Site allows users to donate food by simply clicking a button! No actual donation is required. Simply click the yellow button on the main page and repeat daily. After clicking you can see the results for that day – including how many people clicked and how much food was donated in kilograms, tons, and pounds.

    Annual Impact: 0.14 lb x 365 =51lbs of Food

    6. Satorio.org

    The growing body of evidence supporting meditation has already been widely publicized by mainstream media outlets. Not only can meditation reduce stress, anxiety, and blood pressure, but it can also boost creativity, focus, and the immune system.

    Using Satorio.org, you can obtain these benefits while simultaneously helping to end world hunger—no effort or money is required.

    When you start hitting the gym, you observe small improvements and gradual changes along the way. The same is true with meditation. It is a workout for your mind that can have ripple effects on your life and the people around you. The idea behind Satorio is to show, in a more tangible way, the beneficial impact that your meditation can have on others.

    By meditating for twenty minutes a day, you give 73,000 grains of rice to Oxfam annually:

    Annual Impact: 20 x 10 x 365 = 73,000 grains of rice or 2.5lbs

    7. Forest

    As you are reading TinyBuddha, you no doubt appreciate the art of being mindful with your time. Forest, an app I started using recently, not only helps me be more mindful, but also increases my productivity massively.

    Forest encourages you to resist the temptation of leaving the app to check Facebook, text, or to play a game, by making your virtual tree wither away when you do. The Tamagotchi sense of achievement I get from nurturing my forest, motivates me to stay away from the distracting element of my phone when I am supposed to be working.

    I would gladly pay the $1.99 for the app’s productivity boost alone; however, the added social benefit are the real trees that are planted after achieving certain milestones.

    Total Effect:

    2 x 25 minutes sessions per day = 2 trees planted a year

    —

    Over the course of a year, using these websites can provide $547 and over sixty pounds of food. Imagine how many millions of people would be fed and helped if even 1% of the world did this.

    So if you’ve been stuck in a defeatist mindset, assuming there is nothing you can do, think again. These incredibly simple efforts can fuel positive change and support programs that save lives around the world.

  • You Don’t Have to Go It Alone: How Asking for Help Brings Us Closer

    You Don’t Have to Go It Alone: How Asking for Help Brings Us Closer

    Friends

    “Asking for help does not mean that we are weak or incompetent. It usually indicates an advanced level of honesty and intelligence.” ~Anne Wilson Schaef

    For most of my life, I’ve exhibited contradicting behaviors.

    On one hand, I believe wholeheartedly in collaboration, and have always been quick to help others out. I do it at work and in my personal life. Helping a stranger parallel park, listening to a friend as they go through a hard time, these are common occurrences for me. Once I even helped a blind man walk over a mile to the nearest church…IN THE RAIN.

    #MotherTeresa

    On the other hand, I’ve had this deeply ingrained sense that I’ve needed to be independent, solve my own problems, and go it alone.

    I struggle to ask people for even simple favors like picking me up at the train station, or eating food out of a friend’s fridge even though we’ve known each other for years. I feel this sense of paranoia that somehow I am asking for too much, and I’ve had these visions of people flipping out, and me feeling humiliated and fearing I’ve created distance between us.

    I know it may sound absurd, but this is how I’ve felt for the majority of my life.

    But still, at first glance this may not seem like a big deal, especially in the light of the perks that come with it.

    In fall 2015, for example, I started an online class about Machine Learning, and within a few months I was already confidently writing code for my company. When I shared my work with a coworker, she said, “You learned all of this by yourself?” But to me, this was no surprise—when you don’t feel like it’s appropriate to ask others for help, you find a way to do it yourself.

    What I’ve come to realize, however, is that I’ve held onto the belief that I have to go it alone and can’t ask for others’ help for a unique reason: it makes me feel safe. What do I mean by this? Well, I realize that asking for others’ help is actually a very vulnerable action, and by never doing this, I never had to be vulnerable.

    This “safety” is truly a consolation prize, however; strong social relationships are a key to happiness, and an attitude of never asking for help blocks opportunities to foster personal connections. I never really felt lonely before the working world, but I was aware that I would keep friends at a distance after a certain point. The wall would come up.

    But since mutual vulnerability is necessary to foster deep connections, however, I was also holding myself back from a lot of joy.

    Of course, being vulnerable with anyone is scary, which makes it easy to forgo. I myself have used a lot of excuses and masked them as care for others. When I’d say, “I wouldn’t want to be a burden to them,” it was really code word for “I’m afraid I might be rejected.”

    If you’ve known me for a while, I hope this is an “aha” moment in understanding me. I don’t mean this in a vain way, but rather that the above paragraph describes me so well, just through writing the description, I myself feel a deep sense of relief, and even laugh a bit. After some personal growth, it seems like such an absurd (and unhelpful) way to view the world.

    So, where did this attitude come from? Well, thanks to Google, I’ve been able to psychoanalyze myself. In all seriousness, though, I think it’s a learned behavior that arose from being the youngest child amongst the three children in my family. There have been articles written on the idea of the “Invisible Child,” and that label resonates with me in a strong way.

    Basically, it describes the child who sees problems within his family, and, desperately wanting to help, remains silent about any his/her needs, wants, or problems in an effort not to burden others.

    Out of respect for my family, I won’t disclose details about our challenges, but let’s just say there was an unhealthy dynamic. As a result, from a young age—even though I was too young to understand what in particular was going on—the body language and palpable tension around me enabled me to surmise that something wasn’t right.

    So, what to do in this situation? If I couldn’t fix the situation, at least I could avoid contributing to the problem, I thought. All I had to do was solve my own problems and ask for very little, and in this way I’d make life easier for others and they wouldn’t have to worry about me.

    “Don’t burden anyone, they’ve got enough going on.” That was the motto.

    Of course, this behavior suggested an unhealthy underlying belief—others’ needs were more important than my own. An attitude counterproductive to my happiness, it meant I was likely to view my normal requests in my relationships as unreasonable, preventing me from getting what I needed and allowing anyone into my intimate world.

    This attitude manifested itself in many ways. For example, I often tried to figure out problems myself, only asking for help in dire times. I put on a mask that suggested everything was good in my life, even when it wasn’t. In addition, I never asked for more than I needed; while my brother would ask for expensive gifts like video games or the newest electronic, I always asked for something modest and often practical, like a backpack.

    As long as it wasn’t too expensive, of course.

    Whatever the reason for my difficulty with asking for help, I’ve recently come to understand that life is much richer when you realize you don’t have to go it alone.

    Thanks in large part to my girlfriend, who goes out of her way to help me through her time and connections and reminds me that we all need others’ help, I realize that life is not only easier but also more enjoyable when you allow others to help you (and, of course, give your help in return at some point down the line).

    Let me give you an example.

    Recently, I was to moving out of my apartment. With too many things to bring home—and not wanting to bring them home—I had to find a way to sell my large items quickly. Though I had put up a few ads on craigslist and Facebook, I needed help. The time crunch and the emotions of the situation left me unable to think clearly.

    Without telling me, my girlfriend also put up posts to sell the furniture, too, understanding that I was shy in asking for her help even though I wanted and needed it. Like magic, this problem that I viewed as overwhelming began to disappear, and replacing my overwhelm was deep feeling of appreciation. One by one all the items I needed to sell got sold.

    She also used her exceptional organizational skills to coordinate borrowing a friend’s truck, saving me the time, energy, and money needed to rent one myself. When I unexpectedly created a gigantic hole in the wall while moving furniture, she had the connections to have it plastered and painted, completely solving a problem that on my own would have seemed like a crisis.

    After this experience, I remember thinking and feeling a few things. First, deep love and gratitude that I have a someone in my life who cares about me so much to go to such lengths to help me out, offering her time, mind, body, and heart. And even more amazingly, she was happy to do so.

    That was the real epiphany—when I thought I’d be creating distance in my relationships by asking for help, these experiences actually brought us closer together.

    Secondly, I learned that collaboration shrinks problems that seem insurmountable to one person alone. Everyone brings a unique set of skills and perspectives to the table, and when you ask others for their help, not only do you enable them to showcase these abilities (filling them with confidence), you’re more likely to overcome the problem at hand.

    If you’re having trouble asking for help, I encourage yourself to push yourself to do so. I encourage you to figure out where that little voice and unhelpful belief is coming from.

    You are probably someone who gives often but asks for little—let me tell you now, you don’t need to be a martyr, it’s okay to ask for help. You won’t find that by doing so you create distance or that others get mad—on the other hand, you’ll find that they want to help you because they love you, and that the whole experience brings you closer together.

    It’s a really beautiful thing.

  • Healing from Depression: It Begins With Asking for Help

    Healing from Depression: It Begins With Asking for Help

    Adult Man Crying

    “I speak of a clinical depression that is the background of your entire life, a background of anguish and anxiety, a sense that nothing goes well, that pleasure is unavailable and all your strategies collapse.” ~Leonard Cohen

    Right before my eighteenth birthday, when I was about to go to university, I was hit by a car and sustained multiple fractures to my right leg. This led to a couple of operations and the best part of ten months with me unable to walk.

    While all of my school friends and peers were having the time of their lives in school, I was silently suffering with depression and anxiety, both of which continued to increase.

    Whether it was the weed I smoked, the bottles of whiskey I drank, or the junk food I ate, I could not find comfort or relief from anywhere. Things just got worse, and I felt absorbed and consumed by the victim mentality that I had let penetrate my identity.

    I dropped out of university after re-doing my first year. Despite passing, I just couldn’t go back. I was so ashamed to be me. I didn’t even tell my future housemates that I wouldn’t be returning.

    About this time I realized there was a problem. In retrospect, it should have been glaringly obvious to me, with the self-medicating that was going on, but of course it’s harder to spot problems in ourselves.

    In two years I had gone from one of the most outgoing people I knew, someone who always liked to do things like play sports or party, to a recluse who needed some sort of alternate state of consciousness to function. I started working and going out again on the weekends with some of my old friends and people I had met through work.

    Naively I thought the problems were dissipating and I was returning to who I used to be. Now I look back on it and I know that the younger me had no idea who I was. Things leveled out for a few years until one day I had a breakdown on the way to work.

    There was now no denying the extent of the problem, but hell, if you are in denial you can dig your heels in pretty firmly, and that’s what I did.

    After a few more years of self-medicating, something happened, and to this day I can’t put my finger on the trigger, but something changed that made me realize enough was enough. A good friend recommended a therapist to me, and I was keen to see him and work through the issues that had been building up for seven years.

    So I met with Peter and it seemed like an expensive chat with a nice guy for the first five or six sessions. Around this time I also had had a regular meditation practice. One day whilst meditating I felt like I gave myself permission to open up at the next session with Peter, but I have no idea from where or by whom this permission had been granted.

    I was finally able to approach the issues with candor and rank honesty. I was able to bare my soul and describe how I had felt.

    It’s weird to think that at the age of twenty-five this was perhaps one of the first times I’d done this, but I’d been so suffocated by depression and anxiety, and numbed by my self-medicating, that I had not once looked under the surface to see what things were really like inside. 

    Therapy began to get in to the nitty gritty of what was causing me to feel how I felt.

    I had a fortunate and mostly happy childhood. My parents always did their best for my brothers and me. I could never doubt that. Interestingly, though, there were some wounds from my formative years that may well have contributed to me making some less than ideal choices in my teenage years.

    Add to this the massive fear of missing out and jealously of my peers when I began university, and it’s a perfect recipe for some kind of psychological disorder, which in my case manifested as depression and anxiety.

    I want to take a moment to describe the feeling of depression and anxiety as I experienced it, because I think too often in many parts of our society they are not described in their full ugliness.

    Imagine waking up and feeling sick. Sometimes you throw up, sometimes you don’t. You then have to think about going to work. These thoughts mainly contain a deep sense of dread—not dread of anything in particular, but dread at the overall sense of having to interact with the world.

    It’s so hard to describe because I wasn’t scared of interacting with people and I had friends, I just didn’t want anybody to know me.

    After the dread comes self-loathing. I wasn’t worth knowing. I wasn’t worthy of any attention or any of the good things in life. How could anybody want to be around me? I didn’t feel deserving of anything really, and I projected this on to my work life, where I never tried anywhere near as hard as I could.

    If it were the weekend, I’d do the only thing I knew that would help me: smoke weed or get drunk. It seems ridiculous now, and it probably is, that despite me being anxious and paranoid about going out, I would smoke weed, which only served to exacerbate this reluctance to leave the house. But it was my crutch; it held me up. (It didn’t, it made things worse.)

    I’m aware of the futility of describing feelings in explicit terms. Nobody else but me will know exactly how I felt.

    It’s like having a weighted vest on your chest that makes doing anything difficult. It’s like having the most negative person you could think of on your shoulder constantly nagging you, deeply instilling a sense of not being good enough and destroying any modicum of self-worth and self-respect that remained.

    Despite this being my personal experience, I now know that I was not alone. Nearly a fifth of people in the UK, where I live, suffer with depression or anxiety at some stage in their lives. This I am okay with, it’s natural. Life has its downs, bad stuff happens, and it is our psyche’s way of dealing with it.

    What I am not okay with is that it’s estimated that 50-80% of people suffering with depression do not receive treatment. 

    The stigma surrounding mental health issues in functional human beings is astounding. Because of our society’s attitude toward mental health, many people suffer in silence, and suffer much longer than they might need to.

    I want people to know that you can talk to people. You can get help. There are support structures in place through healthcare providers that can give you a light at the end of the tunnel.

    I was one of the lucky ones who, through a stroke of luck, found a way to ask for the help I needed. I’m still not sure how that happened, but I know I am forever grateful for it.

    Through therapy, learning to accept myself, and my meditation practice, I am fortunate enough to say I don’t think I will head down that road again. And I know that the people around me will help me. If not, then I can pay to see qualified professionals who will be able to give me the help I need.

    I know we have weeks and campaigns to raise awareness of these issues, but this is something we should always be aware of.

    If you are the one who is suffering, know that there are people out there who can help. If you’re suffering in silence and carrying on, then you have already shown you are brave enough to ask for help.

    If you know somebody who is suffering, remind them that you are there for them, and that there are people who can help.

    With the rate of diagnoses of these types of illnesses increasing over the last half a century or so, it’s more important than ever that we are able to help each other in anyway we can, especially with something as quintessentially human as our feelings.

    There are a few links below to free online resources that can provide support in dealing with your feelings. Of course, you can also discuss how you feel with a trusted friend or family member, or a professional. However you do it, know that taking the first step and asking for help is how it starts to get better.

    Anxiety Forum – Recommendations and a forum to discuss anxiety

    The American Psychological Association – Site includes research on anxiety, getting help, psychology news, and helpful books pertaining to the illness.

    Depression Forums – Offers a caring, safe environment for members to talk to their peers about depression, anxiety, mood disorders, medications, therapy, and recovery.

    Mental Health Forum – Loads of information and a friendly place to discuss mental health issues.

    British Association for Counselling & Psychotherapy – Find a UK therapist.

    For further resources see the Tiny Buddha Helpful Free Resources page

  • Dealing with Postnatal Depression: It’s Okay to Ask for Help

    Dealing with Postnatal Depression: It’s Okay to Ask for Help

    “The light at the end of the tunnel might seem a long way off. But the switch may be very near.” ~ Anonymous

    When I think about it now, the ominous signs of postnatal depression were there even while I was pregnant.

    What started with worries and anxieties would continue to escalate after the birth of my child, finally coming together like a perfect storm, to become a deep, dark depression that would threaten to take my life away from me.

    Eighteen months after my daughter was born, now barely able to function, I found myself alone in the grounds of a mental health unit. I remember quite clearly looking up at the sky and asking aloud a question that would come to change the course of my life.

    “How did this happen?”

    I’ve spent the last twenty-five years unearthing the answers.

    The Landscape Changed Around Me

    I had sailed through my first pregnancy. My son was a placid baby and slept so much I sometimes had to prod him awake just to make sure he was fed. Life felt perfect but, between my first and second pregnancy, the landscape of my world began to shift and change around me.

    We moved. We took on a much bigger loan, but within a few months interest rates had risen so much we could barely make the payments. The property market had gone from boom to bust, and the value of our house came crashing down around us, threatening to throw us into negative equity. Now we couldn’t move again even if we wanted to.

    The financial pressures caused tensions. This was when I found myself pregnant for a second time. I felt a confusing mixture of joy and fear. This second pregnancy would be nothing like the worry-free first.

    And there was another problem: I wasn’t sure I even liked our new house, or, more to the point, where it was—right next door to a busy pub. Now pregnant, I began to focus more and more of my frustration and anxiety onto the pub and everything I hated about it.

    I hated the way its upstairs window overlooked my garden. I hated the smell of cooking and the sound of people drinking and laughing outside. When I was hot and sleepless at night, if I leaned out of the bedroom window, I could just about hear the extractor fan buzzing relentlessly. How I hated that extractor fan!

    Trapped

    I felt trapped and unhappy. All the worrying in the daytime ensured I slept restlessly at night, or not at all, and I grew more tired.

    Midway through the pregnancy, I caught shingles. Not only could I not take any medication to ease the pain because of possible side effects, but I grew worried about whether the shingles would affect my unborn child.

    But I kept soldiering on, pretending to the outside world that everything was okay. When people greeted me with “Hi, how are you?” I would smile and say, “I’m fine,” as we all do. Nobody wanted the true answer, it seemed to me.

    There was another problem in admitting I wasn’t coping: I didn’t want anyone to think I was anything less than a perfect mother, and there was an underlying concern, whether real or imaginary, that my children might be taken away from me.

    By the time my daughter was born, I was already running on empty, and perhaps that was partly why she was restless, demanding, and so different from my first child. She had eye problems, joint problems, and, as it later turned out, a hole in the heart too, as a result of the shingles.

    By now I felt I was a different person altogether. Hollow-eyed, tired yet wired, I was plagued by a feeling of heaviness, vague aches, pains, and stomach problems. I finally visited my doctor and told him I thought I was having a nervous breakdown. His response was to put me on a four-month waiting list for counseling and to give me a prescription for the antidepressant Seroxat.

    I started taking them and felt so much worse. Now I was foggy-headed and confused too, and I started having disturbing nightmares, often, violent ones. I’ve since found out these are common side effects. It was Christmas and I couldn’t even raise the energy to cook a Christmas dinner. When I did eat, I couldn’t taste the food. I felt I was shutting down.

    I eventually ground to a halt and had to admit how things were for me. The perfect mother mask had finally slipped, and I had no alternative but to be more real. When people asked me how I felt now, I told the truth and it was a relief. Being fake, as it turns out, is really tiring.

    I accepted all the help I was offered. I had no choice.

    I was referred to a counselor, which helped a lot. Finally, I could offload all the worries and ruminations to someone who didn’t judge me, who simply allowed me to talk and hear my own thoughts.

    Friends and neighbors rallied round. People offered to mind the children so I could take a break. I felt I’d forgotten who I was and had to find myself again.

    Months later, feeling calmer, I wandered into the garden and sat down, with my back to the pub, on a swing seat.

    From here, I had a view of my home I had not really seen before. A pretty thatched cottage lay before me with roses around the door and colorful flowers tumbling down from its window boxes. Fatman, my cat, laid stretching and dozing on the path in the sun, and my children slept, safe and sound, inside.

    And in that moment, my perception shifted. I suddenly saw things from a different angle and realized that nothing in my life needed to change; I simply needed to change the way I was looking at my life. Things had happened to me and around me over which I had no control. Finally it hit me like a speeding train: My real control was over the way I chose to respond to those events.

    Nothing, and nobody, could make me unhappy without my permission.

    It was a moment of clarity and insight that became the turning point in my recovery. It was also the start of my long quest to uncover the mysteries of depression.

    How Antenatal Depression Begins

    Being a mother can be the most rewarding, yet the most demanding, of roles. Society has high expectations, especially now with social media piling on the pressure for perfection. Antenatal depression can resolve with the birth of the baby or might evolve, as it did for me, into postnatal depression.

    The signs and symptoms of anti, and postnatal, depression are the same as for any depression:

    • Tears and feelings of sadness
    • Restlessness and insomnia
    • Difficulty concentrating
    • Irritability with yourself, others, or life in general
    • Loss of appetite or overeating
    • Severe fatigue and wanting to stay in bed
    • Difficulty leaving house or handling social situations
    • Aches and pains
    • Loss of interest in things you used to enjoy
    • Loss of hope about the future
    • Feelings of guilt or self loathing

    How to Get the Help You Need

    Be open.

    Communicate with those around you. Explain how you are feeling and ask for support. Talk to friends and family. Other mothers are probably not as confident and upbeat as they appear to be. When you’re honest, it gives others permission to own up to being less than perfect too. Being authentic means you don’t have to pretend, which is such a relief.

    Speak to your doctor about what you’re going through, as well. Many pregnant women and new mothers feel guilty about having negative feelings at a time when they think they should be happy. But being open and sharing your concerns will help you, and others, understand and overcome the problems.

    Go online.

    There are many forums now that support mothers and parents. There is nothing to feel guilty or ashamed about if you are anxious or down. Plenty of others do. Talking openly to others who understand can relieve the burden and isolation.

    Take “me time.”

    Self-care is not vanity. You may be busy running around after other children or family, but you do need to take your physical and mental health seriously and support yourself with a healthy diet, plenty of rest, and some fun too.

    Keep a journal.

    Write down how you feel, to get thoughts from the inside to the outside. However, remember also, to keep a gratitude list rather than just focus on the negatives. Bring to mind the things that have gone well, like a trip out with friends or even a beautiful sunset.

    My list grew longer the more I searched for the positives. As I expressed my gratitude for the things I hadn’t previously paid attention to like my home, my health, a good meal, or even a lovely sunset, I started to be more mindfully aware throughout the day.

    I began to harvest the good stuff and started to feel better. I now know that when we actively look for the good and express our gratitude and thanks, we are re-setting our internal brain filters and begin to re-wire for positivity.

    Practice meditation and mindfulness.

    Track down a local yoga or meditation class. If you can’t visit a class, download one of the relaxation apps and downloads that are now available online. Learning to focus on the present moment trains the brain to switch off when you want it to. In this way, you can take a break from all that negative internal chatter.

    Get some talking therapy.

    Agencies such as MIND or Rethink or the Samaritans offer low cost, or no cost, support, and there are many private therapists too.

    Talking to a professional has some real advantages. They are trained to listen and offer support, and they can help you heal your past and identify changes you may need to make to meet more of your emotional needs.

    Don’t try to be perfect.

    Finally, cut yourself some slack. You don’t have to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect daughter, or perfect anything else for that matter!

    Consider the wisdom in the ancient tale of the carpet weavers.

    The carpet weavers, who were experts at their trade, would spend many months creating the most beautiful carpets, but just at the point of completion, they would deliberately weave a mistake into the intricate pattern, because, as they said:

    “To aspire to be perfect is to aspire to be god-like and who are we, mere mortals, to be as the gods?”

    Editor’s Note: Although the author did not have a positive experience with medication, everyone’s experience is different. Please consult your doctor before considering stopping any prescribed medication.

  • Why We Should Stop Trying to “Fix” Other People’s Pain

    Why We Should Stop Trying to “Fix” Other People’s Pain

    Depressed young crying woman - victim

    “There is such a deeply rooted belief that we must do something with intense surges of feeling and emotion as they wash through: understand them, determine their cause, link them to some life circumstance or person, transform them, transmute them, or even ‘heal’ them.” ~Matt Licata

    A few years ago, when I first started working for my current organization, one of my colleagues asked me what role I would most enjoy on the team.

    I quickly said, “I like making things happen.”

    That was so clear to me—I’m a natural do-er, organizer, and planner. It’s easy for me to take action on manifesting things in the world.

    While that has been useful for creating a sense of security in the material world, it has been less helpful for navigating the inner world.

    My same orientation toward the outside world, I brought to my emotions and how I met other people’s feelings.

    “You always try to fix the situation,” my husband said on the car ride home as grief was arising from visiting his ill mom. “Like, you know a process that works for you, and it feels as if you try to draft me into it.”

    That was hard to hear. I was defensive at first, “What? No I’m not. I really care about you, and am trying to help you…”

    As I sat with what he said and reflected on our conversation from a moment earlier, I realized that I was asking him over and over about how he was feeling, giving him suggestions and tools that have worked for me, that I thought might work for him too.

    When I peeled back another layer of my intention, I recognized it was mostly out of my own angst—the discomfort of just sitting there with him in presence, listening, with uncertainty. This nagging feeling of “needing to know” and “needing to make better” kept tugging at me.

    And so, finally, I gave in and asked several questions back to back that he was not yet ready to answer, followed by several uninvited suggestions.

    Over the next day, I continued to reflect on how to be with others and found there was a lot for me to learn from this situation with my husband.

    It’s true, when things are hard my mind perks up and goes into doing mode. I think, “What can I do? How do we make this better? What can be done to fix this situation and make it a bit more pleasant?”

    Anything to not linger in uncertainty and the discomfort of “unresolved” emotion.

    In that layer beneath the really good intention to help and make better, there is a more subtle motivation that says, “To stay with the vulnerability of this pain is really hard. It’s scary to be with the unknown. What can we do to make it go away and begin moving forward from this?”

    To sit with difficult emotions and not try to fix or make something better has been a huge learning curve for me over the past years, especially with emotional pain—both for myself and with those who are closest to me.

    Recently, when I see someone else in pain, I’ve been practicing “being with” and “witnessing,” and just deeply listening. It’s not an easy practice, as I’ve had thirty-three years of a conditioned, habitual impulse to “fix” and “move on” and “make better.”

    And yet, I see that the longer that I can stay with difficult emotions (my own and others’), the more I experience moments of deep peace, held with compassion.

    In fact, I often find that nothing needed fixing or to be “done.” Presence and being with is enough.

    Here are three lessons I’ve learned on how to be with others when faced with difficult emotions:

    1. Be with.

    This has been my mantra for the past six months. In fact, I even wear a bracelet daily with that phrase engraved.

    “Be with” reminds me to show up in a way that fully meets the present moment. Usually, that translates into deeply listening the best I can, remembering to breathe, coming back to the body, and not getting caught up in my mind.

    It reminds me to witness and not go down that path of fixing and making better.

    2. Do nothing.

    “This ‘doing nothing’ is not a cold, passive resignation, but is an alive, sacred activity, infused with the light of awareness and a wild, relentless sort of compassion. To do nothing in this way is a radical act of kindness and love, filled with qualities of earth and warmth, and a holy gift that you can offer yourself and others.” ~Matt Licata

    A friend of mine shared that when she was in psychology school, many of the therapists often asked, “But what I can I do to help my client?” Because doing nothing didn’t feel like enough.

    Each time this question came up, the teacher would always say the same thing: “Just be with his/her process. As that’s the only thing that creates lasting change.”

    There is a difference between powerlessness and helplessness. To surrender, which is to be powerlessness and to do nothing, does not equate to being helpless. When we are able to surrender and accept our powerlessness over others’ emotional pain and circumstance, we can wake up to deeper wisdom.

    Simply being present for the other exactly as he/she is—doing nothing—can be the most loving, powerful gift.

    3. Loving-kindness.

    During the moments when being with or doing nothing is too challenging, a loving-kindness mantra has always been helpful for me. It can bring a momentary peace during difficult situations when the mind might otherwise run along with thinking, planning, or engaging in fear-based stories to distract from the present moment.

    It goes like this: You say the below quietly inside, with an open heart.

    “May I be safe. May I be free from fear. May I be free from suffering.“ And, “May you be safe. May you be free from fear. May you be free from suffering.”

    What do you find helpful when those close to you are in emotional pain or in challenging situations? How do you meet yourself during difficult emotions?

  • Healing Through Service: 20 Ways to Help Others (and Yourself)

    Healing Through Service: 20 Ways to Help Others (and Yourself)

    Woman and a Kitten

    “To ease another’s heartache is to forget one’s own.” ~Abraham Lincoln

    A feral cat tempered my most recent bout with depression. I wasn’t seriously depressed, nothing like the debilitating times in my past, but I had a fairly strong case of the blues.

    It was just before Thanksgiving, that time of year when people across America break bread with family and friends, and I was feeling sorry for myself.

    I missed the gatherings we used to have when I was married. My ex-husband and I both loved to cook and every year we put together a gourmet feast for a group of family and friends.

    This year I would be alone.

    I live on the high desert and winters are harsh. Outside a sixty mile an hour wind was howling and a blanket of snow covered the ground. It didn’t help my mood.

    When I opened the door to let my dog out to pee, I heard a high-pitched mewling. From the frozen hillside a scrawny white and black cat came crawling out of the sage. Its fur was matted and its ribs showed.

    When I moved toward it, it retreated with a hiss. My own calico eats well, so I borrowed some of her Fancy Feast, a cup of dry food, and a bowl of water and set it outside.

    Before long the cat was a regular visitor, but what was more gratifying is within a week it had filled out, and while its tail was still matted, its fur began to look glossier.

    The cat, however, showed no appreciation. It continued to spit and growl when I brought its food out, and I have no doubt it would have taken off a finger if it could.

    As the days went by I found myself looking out the window for the cat. I stuffed some blankets under the shed, although it rarely slept there. Once it ate, it moved back out into the desert.

    I also found my depression lifting. I shared Thanksgiving dinner with a small group of new friends and when I returned home, the cat, with its usual ill-tempered snarl, was under the shed.

    I brought out its food and told it, “You could come inside if you’d just chill out.” It pulled its ears back and hissed.

    Small things can change our mood and they often have one thing in common—helping someone or something else. As soon as we step outside our own problems and feel compassion for someone who has it worse than we do, we begin to appreciate the life that’s in front of us.

    It was impossible to not feel moved for this tiny creature that had survived in such a harsh environment. At night it seemed coyotes crawled out from every bush and burrow, yet it eluded them.

    When it snowed I worried about it, but the following day its tracks would be in the snow and I’d find it hiding under the shed.

    There are many ways we can be of service in the world. Even small acts of compassion can go a long ways. I think it’s more effective than donating money.

    Of course, everyone needs money and it’s great to contribute to something we believe in, but money is service at a distance. It doesn’t alleviate the heart the way genuine human kindness does.

    When we hand over a plate of hot food at a soup kitchen or save an abused animal, we’re connecting with another living being. We’re touching hands or fur, sharing a smile or a word.

    Even if you’re shy and don’t like to be in groups there are many low-key, private ways to help lift someone’s spirit or ease an animal’s suffering:

    1. Do you like to cook? Bake some extra pies and donate them to a homeless shelter.

    2. Become a virtual mentor for a teen through a site like icouldbe.org.

    3. Volunteer at a local school. Many schools are short staffed and welcome community involvement.

    4. Knit or crochet afghans or scarves and take them to your local senior center.

    5. Offer to babysit for a friend. You serve the adult, who could use a night out, and being around kids is often uplifting.

    6. Volunteer to shop for a sick neighbor.

    7. Volunteer for a crisis hotline.

    8. Offer to take an elderly person shopping, to the movies or just for a drive.

    9. Volunteer to read to children at your library’s story hour.

    10. Put together a hygiene kit for a homeless person that includes toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, soap, etc.

    11. If you pass a panhandler, take them out for a hot meal. Listen to their story.

    12. Volunteer at your local animal shelter. If you’re able, adopt a shelter dog or cat. If you can’t make a long-term commitment, you might consider becoming a temporary foster parent for a shelter animal until they find a permanent home.

    13. Send a card to a hospitalized kid through a site like cardsforhospitalizedkids.com or to someone in the military through a site like amillionthanks.org.

    14. Rake, shovel or clean for an elderly neighbor.

    15. Donate blood. You never know when your blood will save someone’s life.

    16. Color (alone or with your child) and donate the picture to Color A Smile.

    17. Do you have a special talent? Offer to do a free one-day workshop at a low-income community center or battered women’s shelter.

    18. Offer to teach someone to read.

    19. Donate your used books or clothing to a shelter.

    20. Do small acts of service throughout the day—hold the door for people, let someone go in front of you at the grocery store if they have fewer items. Smile.

    —

    Once you begin to think of ways to help, the possibilities are endless. You are giving to the world, and as a result you’ll find yourself thinking less of your own problems and your heart softening.

    When we approach life with an attitude of service we develop empathy. It’s no longer about us, but about what someone else needs.

    As for the cat, when you feed something, a responsibility goes with it. For the past several weeks I’ve tried to trap it to take into our local feral cat clinic where they will spay or neuter and vaccinate it. So far it’s eluded me, even managing to twice steal the food without setting the trap.

    There’s a lesson in this as well. Service is not the same as saving.

    We can help ease another’s suffering, but we’re not responsible for saving them. We need to accept that sometimes our service isn’t wanted or appreciated and if necessary, we need to step back and let them go.

    Some people don’t want to be saved. Some cats don’t want to be caught.

    It doesn’t matter. Being of service isn’t about accolades or praise. It’s about healing the world and us by taking tiny steps to make the planet a better, more compassionate place for all the creatures that share it.

    Woman and kitten image via Shutterstock

  • How to Help a Friend Through Grief

    How to Help a Friend Through Grief

    Comforting Friend

    “Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” ~Vicki Harrison

    I’m no stranger to grief. When I was twenty-three I lost my mum, and then eight years later I lost my second daughter, Grace, when she was only one day old.

    Soon after Grace died, my husband and I saw a grief counselor. He said something about other people’s reactions to grief that turned out to be one of the truest statements anyone has ever made to me.

    He said, “There will be at least one friend you never hear from again because they don’t know what to say. At least one person will tell you not to worry because you can have another baby. And there will be one shining star—someone who you didn’t consider to be that close a friend—who will be there for you more forcefully and consistently than anyone else.”

    All three of his predictions came true.

    If you have a friend who is grieving, I know you will want to be their shining star. Grief is awkward and difficult; it’s something we tend to shy away from if we can help it. If you have never experienced grief, you may be at a loss to know what to say or do.

    You Don’t Need to Say the Right Thing

    In fact, you don’t need to say anything at all. You just need to be there.

    It may not feel like much, but your physical presence alone is a comfort—a hug, a hand to squeeze, a presence in the room. These are all important crutches when someone is navigating grief. Remember that you can’t fix this; all you can do is open your arms and open your heart.

    There were a few friends I never heard from again after I lost Grace, as the counselor predicted. It seemed so unfair to lose friends at the same time as losing my baby. I wish they had known that I didn’t expect them to say anything profound or heal my pain, but I did expect them to stick around.

    Try to Steer Clear of Platitudes

    The discomfort and awkwardness outsiders often feel toward grief has given rise to many platitudes over the years. Personally, I would steer clear from saying, “Everything happens for a reason,” or, “It is God’s will.” Even someone with the strongest faith will find that hard to swallow.

    Many platitudes are focused on trying to make the griever focus on the future and move on. While the intent is admirable, I just didn’t want to hear that time is a healer and how all would be fine. My grief is a burden I carry with me every day, and while it is true that I have learned to bear the weight of it (most of the time), I will never “get over it.”

    Try to consider your friend’s beliefs and values before offering words that you feel may be of comfort. Someone said to me, “Grace and your mum are up there watching over you,” which is a statement that just doesn’t match my beliefs, however much I wish it did.

    Instead, I felt slightly annoyed and then guilty for feeling annoyed, because I knew how well-intentioned my friend’s statement was.

    Remember Anniversaries

    Try to remember anniversaries such as the birthday of the person who died and the anniversary of the date of their death. Sending a card or even just a text on the day will let your friend know that you are remembering too.

    I have a friend who always writes Grace’s name on our Christmas card. This means so much to me at a time of year when Grace’s absence from our family is even more keenly felt.

    Celebrate Together

    Celebrating the life of the person your friend has lost can be as simple as reminiscing and talking about them. You could ask to look at photos and other mementos with your friend or help put together a life book.

    Don’t be afraid to mention the person they lost. You may think it kinder to steer clear of the subject, but trust me; your friend will want to talk. Memories are all that remain after a loss, and talking about the person who died really does help to keep them alive.

    If your friend is fundraising in memory of their loved one, you could offer to help. My husband and I carried out a lot of fundraising after Grace died, and it wouldn’t have been possible without the wonderful friends who helped out at and supported our events.

    Always Remember

    Deep loss causes lasting changes—I know I’m not the same person I used to be. Your friend may seem fine one day and angry or depressed the next. It’s all part of grief’s rhythm, which is eternal and has no logic or pattern.

    Vicki Harrison’s quote above really sums up what it is like to live after loss. So don’t take it personally if your friend seems distant or has no wish to socialize at times. He or she is just learning to swim.

    I can bear the load at times; other times I simply can’t. One of the consequences of my loss is that I have unintentionally become more introverted. Some days I just need to stay in a safe bubble with my little family, because letting the rest of the world in is too difficult.

    It’s easy to remember the profound effect grief has on your friend shortly after the loss, but much tougher to keep this in mind months, years, and decades after. I don’t believe that time is a healer; instead, it seems to be an adapter. With much difficulty, I am learning to adapt to life without my loved ones.

    The rawness may be dulled with time, but the emotions and sorrow are not. I know it can’t be easy for the friend of a griever, but if you can remember and be there for the long term, you will be the shining star your friend so desperately needs.

    Friendship vector via Shutterstock

  • I Believe the World Is One Big Family

    I Believe the World Is One Big Family

    I believe the world is one big family

  • Are You Being Too Supportive? (Yes, There is Such a Thing)

    Are You Being Too Supportive? (Yes, There is Such a Thing)

    “We cripple people who are capable of walking because we choose to carry them.” ~Christie Williams

    Years ago, I had a dear friend who needed a lot of support for various reasons. She was working hard to find her way out of a dark period. She had suffered traumas and tragedies—things I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

    Her life really did resemble a roller coaster ride. It was heartbreaking to watch her struggle, exciting when things would be on the upswing, and upsetting again when things would spiral downhill.

    Because I had known her almost my whole life and because I loved her dearly, I tried my best to always be there when she needed me. I am someone who knows and appreciates how important it is to have supportive people around you, offering love and kindness, especially during times of struggle.

    Sometimes being there for her simply meant picking up her call in the middle of the night and talking with her.

    Sometimes it meant dropping what I was doing and driving to meet her to make sure she was okay.

    There were talks, tears, and through that, hard truths were often revealed.

    Of course, it wasn’t all dark and dreary. There were bright moments and memories too. There were movie marathons and game nights. There was laughter to the point of tears. Many a meal was shared and many a bowl of ice cream was devoured.

    What I got in return wasn’t the same type of support. She was not the person I would turn to in a crisis, however minor or major. She just couldn’t handle it. But in turn, this friend showed me gratitude and genuine love.

    I never thought much about the dynamics of our relationship until another crisis erupted in her life, shaking things up once again.

    The downward cycle began and with it came hysterical phone calls, late night drives, drama after drama. And through it all I did what I always did which was listen, help, care, and show love.

    But one day my boyfriend at the time looked at me and said, “You need to stop doing this.”

    I was confused. The idea had never even crossed my mind. Stop? Why?

    He explained more and his perspective was eye opening. He saw her as less of a victim to outside circumstances and more of an adrenaline junkie—addicted to drama and things going wrong. As proof, he listed off several disastrous choices that were just that: her choices.

    He asked how I could help someone who didn’t really want help at all.

    But mostly he felt this friendship was interfering with my own life, well-being, and happiness.

    I had never thought about it like that before. And while a part of me was mad at him—he just didn’t understand, I thought—there was a tiny part of me that agreed with him.

    What was I doing?

    The truth was these late night calls and drives were interfering with my early morning job.

    The truth was the time spent trying to support and help her was taking away from things in my personal life that also needed my attention.

    The truth was I cared so much that I carried her stresses with me much more than I should have. I felt sad and worried, more than I needed to.

    The truth was her out of control life was making me feel out of control in mine.

    Because the thing was this: in being so busy with always checking in on her, I forgot to check in with myself.

    It was the first time I really understood that in order to support others we must remember to support ourselves first.

    After this realization hit me, I spent a great deal of time thinking about our friendship and I started to see things in a different light.

    Yes, this friend had a lot on her plate, but maybe the way she was reacting and handling these situations could be better. Maybe she needed help beyond what I could give her. Maybe she needed to start by wanting to change and help herself.

    I started to see that no matter what I had done for her all those years, how many phone calls I answered or help I offered, nothing had really changed in her life.

    She was having the same type of emergencies and she rated them all at least a nine on her personal-crisis-Richter-scale.

    Once this truth was apparent, I knew a shift needed to take place.

    I started to do only what I felt comfortable doing. I wasn’t there every single time she needed me, but I was still there a great deal.

    This wasn’t enough. Naturally, my friend was upset and hurt. She couldn’t understand why I was withdrawing, even though I did my best to explain. The more I explained, the more hostile she became. The more hostile she became, the more I withdrew.

    Eventually the crack between us turned into a massive fault line, one that couldn’t be repaired.

    Do we have an obligation to do our best by the people we love? Well, yes—to an extent.

    But we have to remember we have an obligation to ourselves first—for our happiness, our health, and our spiritual well-being. If we are not respecting our time, feelings, and energy, no one else will either.

    I hope that friend of mine has figured that out. I hope she’s living life with more highs than lows, more laughter than tears, and more joy than she ever thought possible.

    And I hope she feels it when I send her a blast of love from my little corner in the Universe to hers.

    I hope she understands that’s the best I can do now… the best for both of us.

  • Freedom Is Knowing We Don’t Need to Be the Best

    Freedom Is Knowing We Don’t Need to Be the Best

    Happy Woman

    “Whenever I climb I am followed by a dog called ‘Ego.’” ~Frierich Nietzsche

    At a young age, the bar for the rest of my life was set very high. I was a natural at anything I tried to do, and I was lucky enough to have my friends and family support me in just about every venture, so I became incredibly confident in my abilities and hopeful that life would always be easy and painless.

    Eventually, I solidified the expectation for myself to always be number one because that is what my identity was based upon.

    To give you a couple examples of my pre-adolescent stretch of glory: I was an all star swimmer (better than even the boys on my swim team); no one dared challenge me in verbal warfare due to my incredibly intellectual argumentative skills; I was “popular” for a pre-teen and had close friends; and I was very good at school.

    Then I was humbled by reality.

    I transferred from my safe 100-student private school to a public school of over 400 students in sixth grade, and my world was literally flipped upside down.

    I lost my identity in a sea of kids who went toe to toe with my vivacious personality, and my ego took a big hit.

    I was not the best at anything anymore, so who I was and my contribution to the world, in my young mind, was compromised, because those things that I attached my value to as a human being were challenged.

    This identity (ego) I refused to let go of ate me up inside, as I internalized it to mean that I was somehow not valuable as a person. My intrinsic value was somehow diminished because I was not the best at everything anymore.

    And that is where my mind failed me, because that pattern of thinking is not true. Problems arise when we believe our value comes from our accomplishments and achievements.

    The world makes it very hard to avoid attaching our value to our success because success is defined, measured, and standardized in many cultures by what we do, who we do it for, what we have (materialistic things and money), and how far we get.

    What I came to realize was that these things can’t even begin to explain the person you are on the inside. What matters is your intention, the worth and depth of your relationships, and your values. These qualities make you who you are.

    Let me back up a bit. Before I came to this conclusion, I was hurting badly for a number of years. Not only did my life get considerably harder after entering the sixth grade, but I also stopped asking for help and maintaining the close relationships I had made when I was at my “peak,” because I felt unworthy.

    To protect my precious ego, I started blaming and judging everyone to keep them at a distance so they wouldn’t see my self-perceived faults. And that, my friends, is the ugly nature of the ego. Call it competitive, stubborn, or hardheaded—it is an insatiable monster that will eat you up inside if you let it.

    I would like to say that I grew up and had an awakening of sorts, but to tell you the truth, I am still very much in the process of accepting and loving the true me. Here are some tips on how I manage the monster that you may want to try:

    Identify any beliefs regarding achievement and access that cause you to suffer.

    Can you let these go? Why or why not? Oftentimes, we hold on to beliefs for our survival and comfort even when they make us unhappy. We also hold onto beliefs because we are afraid to discover our true selves, which would mean big changes for everything around us.

    Ask yourself what you genuinely value in others that has nothing to do with success, appearance, or other “worldly” objects.

    Can you see these qualities in yourself? What would it feel like to acknowledge, grow, and love these values/qualities in yourself? Think of qualities in others that make you feel safe, respected, and cared for. Usually the good qualities we see in others are direct reflections of what we do not see in ourselves but possess deep down.

    Honestly ask yourself what you need, and seek help.

    Oftentimes, people like me try to prove they have it all together but end up overwhelmed because they wind up juggling too many balls, saying, “No, it’s okay, I got it.”

    I realized I stopped asking for help because I needed to maintain the illusion (primarily for myself) that I knew everything so I wouldn’t feel incompetent.

    Being vulnerable enough to admit you can’t do everything and need help actually brings people closer to you because it opens the door for the most basic of human needs—empathy, validation, and most importantly, the need to feel like you are not alone in your experiences.

    Be gentle and patient with yourself. Allow yourself some room for error and be humble enough to seek other perspectives to issues that arise. It can be extremely freeing to learn that you do not, in fact, have all the answers.

    It is a process to let go of the unrelenting demands created by past experiences and accomplishments. Life has a funny way of showing what you need to relinquish in order to be at peace and congruent with your inner values.

    Be aware of what causes you to suffer on a regular basis and try to make a habit of acknowledging your core inner qualities that give your life meaning and value. When you start living in congruence with the values and truths you discover inside yourself, everything else naturally falls into place.

    “Perhaps middle-age is, or should be, a period of shedding shells; the shell of ambition, the shell of material accumulations and possessions, the shell of the ego.” ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

    Happy woman image via Shutterstock

  • Your Kindness Could Help Someone Find Hope in the Darkness

    Your Kindness Could Help Someone Find Hope in the Darkness

    “Remember there’s no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” ~Scott Adams

    I was ten years old and growing up in a home that I can only describe as hellish. Among other things, our father forced us to stand against the wall for long periods of time until we shook from exhaustion. On one such day, he sent me to McDonald’s to buy him a cup of coffee.

    I was happy to get out of the house and escape my punishment momentarily. As I headed to McDonald’s, I wondered what it would be like to never have to go back home. I hoped that I would have a better life someday, but I could not see how.

    When I arrived at my destination and opened my mouth to order the coffee, I burst into tears. I just could not hold them back any longer and they came pouring out right there at the counter in McDonald’s.

    As I stood there, a sobbing, broken little ten-year-old girl, a lady came out of nowhere. She said, “Sweetheart, would you like something for yourself? I will buy you anything you want. Just tell me what it is and I will get if for you.”

    I was so touched by her kindness that I cried even harder. There was nothing on that menu I wanted. I wanted a better life. I wanted never to have to go home again.

    Eventually I stopped crying and went home with the coffee, but I never forgot that lady or her kindness to me. I’ve often wished that I could find her and thank her for what she did that day.

    We interact with so many people every day, in traffic, at the office, and online. If you walk down the sidewalk in a major city you will walk past hundreds of people. The next time you do this, look at them. Really look at them.

    Every single one of these people has had his or her heart broken at one time or another. Guaranteed. You never know what other people are dealing with.

    The person who cut you off in traffic may be struggling with a difficult child or spouse. He or she may have just gotten fired. Of course, it’s possible that they’re simply rude, but you never know. We can’t always be at our best, but we can try.

    It is not always possible to know why people act the way they do, but I can guarantee that you will feel better if you give people the benefit of the doubt more often than not.

    When in doubt, be kind. It doesn’t cost anything to be kind.

    Can you express concern for someone today? Will you take a minute to hold the door for someone or let them in front of you in traffic?

    Why not pick up the phone and call a friend who could use a kind word? You could send a quick email or text to someone you’ve been thinking of. If you want to go all-out, send a hand-written note or card to someone.

    When you encounter a person who is less than charming, consider taking a deep breath and trying to understand where he or she is coming from. Do they have a point? Can you let it go?

    Instead of rushing through your day, try slowing down and seeing how you can be of assistance. Be open to being of service, even in small ways. Instead of worrying because you’re too busy at work to volunteer on a regular basis, you could just volunteer for an hour or two.

    You can make an enormous impact on someone’s life, even with one small kindness. I still struggle to find the words to describe how much that simple act of compassion meant to me all those years ago.

    I went back home and life was still hard. Nothing changed for a very long time, but I had a tiny seed of hope in my heart that began to grow.

    I went to bed that night knowing that there is kindness in this world. Good things were possible and all was not lost. Somehow, it would be okay because there are good people in the world.

    Even today when I’m struggling with something and all seems lost, I remember that day. I remember that there’s always hope. I send a silent thank you to my would-be benefactor.

    You don’t have to be Mother Teresa or Abraham Lincoln to make an impact in someone’s life. You can simply take a minute out of your day to encourage someone. You never know how much of a difference you can make with one small act of kindness.

    If you lived in the south suburbs of Chicago in the late seventies and offered to buy something for a crying girl at McDonald’s, I want to send you a very belated thank you. This post is dedicated to you.

  • A Simple Way to Light Up Your Life with Meaning, Love, and Joy

    A Simple Way to Light Up Your Life with Meaning, Love, and Joy

    LOVE

    “Love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire.” ~Viktor Frankl

    Picture this: it was 3am but I couldn’t fall asleep. I had little to complain about, except a feeling that life seemed to be passing me by.

    My father had died abruptly some years earlier, my mother had come through a major operation, our children were growing increasingly independent, and our marriage was strong.

    Work was admittedly a bit stressful, and colleagues were less helpful than they might have been. But I ate a healthy diet, exercised, maintained a reasonable work-life balance, and did most of the “right” things. Still, despite my healthy habits, something was lacking.

    Fast forward to Boxing Day 2004: TV channels were full of the Indian Ocean tsunami. Something told me, as a doctor and scientist, to drop whatever I was doing and fly to Tamil Nadu in India. I arrived in Nagapattinam town to find large fishing boats lying in the middle of the street.

    The tsunami waves had flung huge boats around as if they were small toys. Entire fishing villages had completely vanished. The lightly constructed mud and leaf homes had been washed away as if they were matchboxes.

    Now thousands of homeless people were crowded into school buildings and makeshift tent villages. Many had no access to proper sanitation or drinking water. People who had lost loved ones were walking around in a daze.

    People crowded around me with tragic stories.

    One woman described how she lost both her children, and how she couldn’t have more, because she’d undergone a family planning operation. Another described how her infant had been passed from hand to hand as people ran from the waves. Her infant survived, but her toddler had been swallowed by the huge waves.

    I was not there when the tsunami struck, but I could easily have been lazing on that beach. I remember thinking how fragile life is. Even without a natural disaster, you or I could be in a fatal traffic accident today or tomorrow.

    Over the next fortnight I experienced involuntary fasts between huge vegetarian meals, over-work, exhaustion, mild diarrhoea, and dehydration, but this fortnight transformed me.

    Thousands of volunteers of all ages and backgrounds had converged on the tsunami-hit area. People in Muslim skull caps rubbed shoulders with Hindu monks in saffron robes and international volunteers.

    Everyone was pulling together, helping the local government officials. It was as if each of us was playing our own instrument in a symphony.

    We were like an army of love, driven to make a difference.

    My role was to set up a disease surveillance system and train local staff to operate it.

    Would there be outbreaks of disease in the relief camps? Would bereaved people succumb to disease? Would our surveillance system catch outbreaks in time to prevent epidemics?

    Nothing was certain, but we powered ahead. I felt calm yet energised, carried along by the warmth of newly made friends. There was no opportunity to maintain my healthy habits, but I felt more alive than ever.

    I felt carried along on a wave of love as we all pulled together in our common cause. Every little chore became lit up by purpose and meaning. That’s when I realized the wisdom of the saying: Stop asking what life can give you, start asking what you can give life.

    When life feels like a meaningless treadmill, you might lie awake at 3am and ponder the emptiness of it all. However, within you is a tiger that is merely sleeping, waiting to be unleashed in the pursuit of one or more great causes.

    I now still maintain healthy habits. But those worthwhile rituals are not sufficient to infuse life with meaning and passion. More is needed.

    Imagine flowing through life in the company of friends, all attracted by a shared vision of a better world, infused with love for others, pulling together to make a positive vision come true.

    Start giving and contributing of your best self, for the sheer joy of giving. That’s how you can become a calm achiever, tolerant of uncertainty, energized by meaning.

    It will seep into all areas of your life and make you more self-assured, more fired up, more attractive. Think of it as a channel for the great love which is within you.

    If you get paid for doing what you would choose to do anyhow, celebrate! If not, can you find some parts of your job that you would do even without pay, some angle perhaps that transforms life for others?

    If not, there’s still plenty of opportunity.

    You could identify a cause that you passionately believe in. You could take the first step by joining a local group or starting one. Look online, or in your local paper, for groups that meet near you; and start making a little time each week, or month, to nourish this heroic, passionate part of you.

    You could also write to your elected representatives to urge support for your cherished causes. Your taxes are spent on a variety of things that aren’t always dear to you. Influencing how public funds are spent can bring powerful support for causes you believe in.

    So, how well did our surveillance system work? Not a single life was lost to infectious diseases in the weeks following the tsunami.

    The whole experience felt like the sun of meaning breaking through the clouds of habit in my life. Now when I die, I would like my life to be measured by how much love I expressed through my life.

    Focus on contributing and transforming the lives of others, and your own life will light up with meaning, love, and joy. You’ll become a calmer achiever, better able to bear the stresses, difficulties, and setbacks that life often brings.

    The best time to start living like this was long ago. The next best time to start is now.

    Love image via Shutterstock

  • The Key to Creating More Joy in Your Work

    The Key to Creating More Joy in Your Work

    Love My Job

    “Life engenders life. Energy creates energy. It is by spending oneself that one becomes rich.” ~Sarah Bernhardt                      

    Ten years ago, when I first moved to China, I came as an English teacher at a university. I hadn’t the faintest clue as to how I would teach and I only had one year of experience as a teaching assistant in graduate school.

    At the beginning, I was completely out of my element. In fact, I woke up the following morning after arrival in my new apartment only to realize that I had no food, couldn’t say anything in Chinese, and had no idea where to get something to eat.

    For me, everything was uncharted territory, especially my new career.

    After settling in, I tried to do a good job of teaching, and I truly did care for my students. However, having hundreds of different students and seeing each group for less than an hour per week, I did not see how I could make much difference.

    Because of this, I lost my motivation and never really gave it my all. I could find no reason to excel at what I was doing because I couldn’t see how I could have any impact.

    I became apathetic about what could have been a wonderful occupation. I dreaded waking up in the morning and dragging myself to class. When making a lesson plan, I would just throw something together that I thought might be sufficient.

    In class, I just wanted to get it over with and move on with my day. I rarely stuck around to converse with my students and I often complained about my work.

    I did what was necessary just to get by. I gave very little of myself and got very little in return. My profession became a job to trudge through.

    You Get What You Give

    Years later I began to work on improving myself. Naturally, this included my own job and I began to search for a way to transform my work into something better, something more meaningful. And I found the answer.

    Fast-forward a few years, and everything changed. When preparing classes, I would construct course plans with meticulous care and would repeatedly practice how best to deliver them.

    I would wake up each morning at 5:00am to make sure that I was physically and mentally wide awake and ready to give it my all, every single day. Before each class, I would talk to myself and whip myself up into a state of excitement, determined to make every class a masterpiece.

    I started to feel genuinely excited on my way to class and felt great joy upon entering the classroom. I would stay afterward and speak with students, who were always full of questions for me.

    Increasingly, I was able to see through the eyes of the learner. And, by being able to put myself in their shoes, I knew what needed to be done and how to execute it.

    I improved as a person as well. I became more confident, learned how to hold the attention of a crowd, gained a much clearer understanding of the process of learning, and felt much more joy. I learned how to lead and to provoke curiosity.

    I was getting significant, measurable results and I realized how huge of an impact I could have on my students’ lives.

    It was true that I was devoting more time to my work, but what I soon learned was that I received much more in return. I could feel and see such love from my students. They were more cooperative than before, I gained their trust, and they showered me with kindness and friendship.

    I was greeted each morning with enthusiastic smiles, and at the end of the school year thoughtful gifts poured in that brought tears of joy to my eyes.

    I had completely transformed, and so too had the experience of my students. And it was all because of a shift that I chose to make.

    The Key to Creating Joy in Your Work

    What had happened? What did I do to create this incredibly positive change?

    I made a simple decision: I was going to give more than anyone else expected of me.

    This decision happened in an instant.

    Back when I was still trudging through my work, one afternoon, I was walking through the halls of the school. I was struck by the fact that every classroom was full of silent, bored student who were playing on their phones or sleeping. At the front of every single classroom was a teacher speaking monotonously or reading from a slide on the overhead.

    I felt pity for my students and was angry at the laziness that I saw. The system was a total sham and nobody was receiving anything of value. And in that moment I had a revelation: I was part of it.

    I too had become lazy and was contributing to this horrible state of affairs. I felt a conviction rise within me: I would no longer be a part of the sham anymore.

    Upon returning home, I did something that forever changed how I work: I thought very carefully about what my students needed.

    I was struck by inspiration and spent hours putting together a new lesson plan. When I delivered the plan, everyone in the classroom, including myself, was shocked. The students were completely inspired and the entire atmosphere of the room changed.

    Afterward, numerous students told me how much they had enjoyed the class. They requested more like it. Overwhelmed with excitement, I set to work constructing more lesson plans that would truly have an impact.

    From there, it blossomed into a virtuous circle: the more I gave to my students, the more joy I received in return. And this made me want to give even more. Happiness flowed to me in avalanches of joy.

    I never imagined the beautiful changes that would take place. My classrooms were utterly transformed.

    Watching the enormous impact I was having on hundreds of lives, I realized something: all of this happened because of a single decision that I had made.

    I created this change. And so can you.

    And it starts with a decision: to give more of yourself.

    How to Give More

    The giving of service is the master key that will unlock joy and success in any profession. So, if you are not a teacher like me, how can you apply this to your own work?

    What, for example, would it look like for someone with clients or customers? If you are a waiter or waitress, a secretary, a nurse or doctor, in sales, or customer service you would want to be attentive to your customers above all else.

    Listen for and focus in on understanding what they need and find a way to deliver it to them. There is no better way to ensure repeat business.

    If you are a cashier, be the cashier who everyone remembers. Make every person feel important by looking them in the eyes and greeting them with a smile. This will bring more joy to both of you than if you mindlessly wished you were somewhere else.

    If you are a laborer, cleaner, or prepare food and may not interact with many people, focus on excelling at your task. Know who you are serving, what they need, and do it in the best way you know how.

    And even if nobody appreciates or recognizes your work or you don’t get the results you expect, you will go to bed with much greater satisfaction and contentment knowing that you gave it your all.

    If you dislike your work, the key to making it more enjoyable is to give more of yourself. When you focus on giving, you stop thinking about yourself and what you don’t like.

    It is as simple as it is profound. In the end, the person this will help the most is you.

    If ever you are uncertain as to how you can excel at your work, you only need to find the answer to these four questions:

    1. Who am I serving?
    2. What do they need?
    3. How can I give them what they need?
    4. What can I do to exceed their expectations?

    Once you have the answers, you have developed a plan to excel at your work. And, by doing so, you have created the master key to making your job a labor of love and a source of joy for yourself and for those around you.

    Love my job image via Shutterstock

  • Help Instead of Judging; They May Be Blinded by Pain

    Help Instead of Judging; They May Be Blinded by Pain

    Compassion

    “We can judge others or we can love others, but we can’t do both at the same time.” ~Unknown

    When I was eighteen, my father took his own life. I was just a baby, really, a mere freshman working on my Bachelors Degree at UMF.

    There are times when I feel lost in the pain of missing him, stuck with this empty hole inside. Hovering in between confusion and anger, where the feelings consume me.

    Losing my father in such a traumatic way has shown me just how deeply I can feel, how hard I can fall, how grief can overcome my entire being at times, how forgiveness can heal—and also how I can help others so they don’t need to suffer as my father did.

    A military man who dealt with severe depression and PTSD, he desperately tried to find his place in this world. He tried to find comfort through his adopted family, he tried to find courage through joining the military, and he tried to find understanding by becoming a father.

    He was a quiet soul who was sociably awkward in a sweet, innocent way. He radiated beams of sadness from his eyes and tried desperately to express his love to his family without actually having to verbalize it.

    Monday, February 19, would become the date that measures time in my book. Time would be measured before this date and after this date.

    I awoke that morning, traveled south to a friend’s home, and fell asleep on her couch after arriving.

    Around 9:00pm, there was a knock on the door. There stood a Maine State Trooper and a priest. As I sat up on the couch, they walked into the living room. My heart pounded so hard I felt as if it were outside of my chest.

    As they sat down, I screamed, “What’s happened? Why are you looking at me like that?”

    The state trooper said, “I’m sorry to tell you this Jessica, but your father has died.”

    The priest quickly intervened, “He died quietly, in his sleep, with his cat next to him. He took his own life, dear, by overdosing on medication, but he’s at peace now…”

    Time stopped. My heart stopped. The pounding noise in my ears stopped. I cannot recall what they said next. I don’t remember what I even did next. I remember faintly hearing questions like, “Did you know he was ill?”, “Maybe this is a good thing considering the circumstances?”, and “Do you want to go see your mom now?”

    It was all a blur. We rushed back to my family home, I ran into my mother’s arms, and suddenly the funeral planning began. Life would never be the same.

    I remember feeling awkward and out of control. I worried about the stigma attached to the way he died, along with the potential judgment, the unknown pain, and the unknown future.

    What looks will I get upon returning to the University? How will people act around me? Am I a statistic? Am I a survivor? My mind raced. My feelings cycled through anger, resentment, betrayal, confusion, and hurt.

    How could he do this to me and our family? Didn’t he want to see me graduate college, get married, and have children? Why leave me with all these questions? This guilt? This pain? Why would he do such a thing, take the easy way out and refuse any help? He was such a great father, a strict Catholic, a military man…why would he do this?

    Then I realized that all of my pain and all of my questions were centered around me, not him. My inner victim was loud and self-pitying. And that’s part of the problem. People who are in such pain from deep depression or mental illness aren’t thinking rationally.

    My dad wasn’t thinking about my wedding in the future or the grandkids he would have or his next vacation; he was in pain. Period. Unbearable pain that he just couldn’t escape. He needed help. But people turned away because it can be uncomfortable to reach out, or perhaps because they thought it wasn’t their problem, or that he was just mean.

    We all have the power to recognize pain in others and offer compassion instead of judgment. In doing so, we can help those in need instead of forming mistaken conclusions about them and writing them off.

    Let go of the assumption that the man talking to himself on the street or the person in the straight jacket are the only ones “crazy” enough to take their own life—and that those people aren’t also worthy of compassion.

    Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. And everyone processes loss and hardship in different ways. How much you can handle will vastly differ than what someone else can handle.

    We’re all hurting in some way, perhaps damaged due to tragedy, and yet in spite of everything, many of us rise out of bed in the morning and put a smile on our face.

    Many people appear composed or happy to give the impression to the outside world that they have it all together, only to return home to feel sad and alone.

    When you encounter someone in distress or look into a stranger’s eyes and see sadness, offer kindness. Don’t wait for others to be kind to you, show them how to be kind. Don’t prejudge or assume something about anyone; allow them to tell their own story—and believe them.

    Listen, be present, and give others the space to be themselves.

    This is what I learned from my father’s loss—that you never know who’s completely blinded by the depth of their pain, and you never know how much you could help by offering kindness and compassion.

    Compassion image via Shutterstock

  • The Simple, Free, and Foolproof Way to Become a Happier Person

    The Simple, Free, and Foolproof Way to Become a Happier Person

    Happy Hands

    “For it is in giving that we receive.” ~St. Francis of Assisi

    If there were a magic pill that led to a 22% lower mortality rate and higher levels of self-esteem and happiness, would you try it?

    I’m betting you would.

    Well I’m here to share some good news: there’s no need for pills or money or magic. In fact, the solution is both free and easy. It’s called volunteering, and it’s proven to make you happier and healthier. All it requires is an open mind, full heart, and a few hours of your time.

    Wondering why giving back affects your outlook so dramatically? Here are four reasons:

    Why Volunteering Makes You Happier

     1. You boost your self-esteem.

    Loving yourself is one of the keys to happiness. You may be thinking, I don’t know anything or I don’t have anything to offer the world but you’re wrong.

    I don’t have a lot of practical skills: I can’t fix a car, teach art, or bake an award-winning pie—and don’t even get me started on long division. So I used to think there weren’t volunteer opportunities for me. That is, until I got involved as a mentor to at-risk youth.

    Who knew I could help kids just by hanging out with them? It was an incredible experience, and it showed me that everybody has skills to share.

    Whatever you’re good at, and passionate about, there are causes that need your light and love. You could walk dogs at the animal shelter or deliver meals to the elderly; even if you’re homebound, there are remote volunteering opportunities you can do from behind your computer.

    Seeing how you—yes, you!—can help make the world a better place is one of the greatest self-esteem boosters you’ll ever experience.

    2. You make new friends.

    As an adult, meeting new people is tough. But it’s proven that people with an extensive social network are happier. What’s a good way to create that group of friends? Volunteering.

    While volunteering both in the States and abroad, I’ve met lots of wonderful people. People who I admire and respect; people who have stayed in my life for many years. It was easy to find common ground while volunteering together, and it was easy to stay friends because of our similar worldviews.

    Just last month, I traveled with friends in New Zealand whom I met two years ago while volunteering in Nicaragua; a few weeks later, I ate breakfast with a friend in Singapore whom I met nine years ago while volunteering in East Africa.

    It was so good to see them all again—and because of our shared experiences and perspectives, we never ran out of things to talk about (and likely never will).

    Volunteering = friends. Friends = happiness. It’s a pretty simple equation, if you ask me!

    3. You learn new skills.

    Learning is one of the best ways to engage your mind, and in turn, make you more satisfied with your life. When you think of learning, you may picture a classroom and textbooks, but I believe real life experience is a much better teacher. And one of my favorite ways to learn new skills is through volunteering.

    When I was seventeen years old, I didn’t know a hammer from a screwdriver. But then I co-led an alternative spring break trip during my senior year in high school; we helped to build houses with Habitat for Humanity.

    Though our volunteer vacation was only a week long, I learned more in that week than I probably did my whole senior year.

    Is there a skill you want to learn? Or a foreign country you’d like to discover? How about a language? (I learned Spanish while volunteering abroad in Nicaragua.) Or perhaps, you just want to learn more about yourself.

    Whatever it is, there’s a volunteering opportunity that will help you achieve your goals and bring positive change to your life

    4. You feel fulfilled.

    What’s even more important than happiness? Fulfillment: the feeling that you are contributing to something bigger than yourself. Some people find it through their careers, some through their family, and some through their art. Me? I’ve found it through volunteering.

    Whether you call it the “warm and fuzzies,” or simply just “feeling good,” giving back to others will bring you happiness—as well as its more elusive cousin, fulfillment.

    I volunteer because I feel like something’s missing in my life if I don’t. I currently give my time to a garden and learning center where we teach young kids about the power of healthy eating. Seeing their faces light up when they learn they actually like broccoli is something I wouldn’t give up for the world.

    If you’d like to bring some sunshine into your life, try bringing it into someone else’s first. Whether you serve food at a soup kitchen once a month or go on a volunteer vacation in Tanzania, stop making excuses and just go for it. Your world—and your soul—will thank you.

    Do you volunteer? Does it make you happier?

    Happy hands image via Shutterstock

  • It’s Okay to Need a Little Help

    It’s Okay to Need a Little Help

    We Can Help

    “Don’t look for someone who will solve all your problems. Look for someone who won’t let you face them alone.” ~Unknown

    It’s 2004, and I awake in a student college in Melbourne, Australia. This comes as no surprise, because, at the time, I lived there.

    I groggily stagger to the shared bathroom on my floor, to perform my morning washing routine. There’s nothing unusual about my lavatory procedure, so I’ll omit the details, for all of our benefits.

    So far, so good. Already I’m full of optimism for today.

    As I wash my hands, I glimpse myself in the mirror and notice my majestic, messy bed-head.

    I often sport a disturbing, motley “I’ve just fallen out of bed” look for entire days, as I forget to check in the morning that I look sufficiently acceptable to go outside.

    I usually see myself in a mirror just before I go to bed, and invariably feel retrospectively ashamed that I’ve had tufts of hair beaming in assorted directions since I woke up.

    On this day, however, I notice my unconventional tufty hair and take immediate, drastic action, slapping the top of my head with my wet hands to encourage my mane into an acceptable shape. I stride out of the bathroom, feeling satisfied.

    Universe 0, Neil 1. One triumph already: not appearing for the entire day as if I have just fallen out of bed. What an excellent start to the day.

    Sadly, I only take a few steps before the soapy water I unthinkingly applied to my head pours into my eyes, burning them immediately with painful chemicals.

    Still, no need to panic. I’m an adult, I can handle a little soapy water. I am aware of the process for fixing a foamy intrusion into the eyes. As per the plan, I don’t even break stride, simply rubbing my eyes to remove the water.

    Unfortunately, this only makes things worse. It feels like I dislodged my contact lenses and got the soap in behind them. Now everything really burns.

    Okay. There’s no need for alarm. I simply need a new plan. I’m already most of the way to my bedroom, so I can slip in there, find the sink, wash my eyes out, replace my contacts with chemical-free fresh lenses, and then we’re all sorted. I’m still destined for victory today.

    I take another step toward my bedroom door, eyes screwed tightly shut.

    I fumble for my keys and pull them hurriedly out of my trouser pocket. Sadly, in my haste they slip out of my hand and fly somewhere into the dark void in front of me.

    Uh-oh.

    I squint my eyes open slightly and shut them immediately. I can’t see a thing through the caustic chemical tears. What the hell is in this soap, I probably would wonder if I weren’t so distracted by the agony behind my eyelids.

    Right. Time for a new “new plan.” The corridor is small, so it can’t take long to locate my keys, get into my room, find the sink, wash the soap out of my eyes, replace the contacts, and then—finally—victory!

    No need to cancel the celebratory parade for how awesome today will be. Yet.

    I scrabble on the floor for a moment, then another moment, and then another slightly longer moment.

    I seriously can’t find my keys. In making the “new new plan” I significantly underestimated how much I rely on the ability to see.

    The discomfort of squatting and bungling around is adding to the stinging in my eyes, and I realize my new highest priority needs to be getting rid of this infernal soap. 

    (With hindsight, this should probably have been the priority from the beginning.)

    Taking stock again, I come up with a new “new new plan.”

    I’ll go back to the original shared bathroom and wash my eyes out there. Then, using my regained power of vision, it will be trivial to find my keys. After that, I can let myself into my room, replace my lenses, and finally I can leave for breakfast. Still victorious. Definitely.

    I stand up, face toward the bathroom, and charge ahead at maximum eagerness.

    SMACK!

    I run face first into the wall, having apparently completely lost track of which way I was facing.

    I crumple to the floor, like a sack of idiotic potatoes.

    At this point, I finally admit that I am defeated.

    I have no new plans. No “new new plans.” No plans of any kind whatsoever. My face hurts from hitting the wall with it. My eyes hurt from the chemicals I foolishly rubbed into them. I cannot solve either problem.

    As I lie there, blankly failing to handle the situation, I hear the voice of the pretty girl from down the corridor:

    “Do you… do you need any help?”

    Yes. Yes, I need help.

    And not just with simple things like a morning routine.

    I’ve suffered from anxiety all my life. And the main lesson I’ve learned is that keeping it to myself only makes it worse.

    Yet I’m less willing to ask for help when I need it most because I don’t want to look weak. I’m scared of the judgment it might bring.

    But I’ve found that, in reality, people judge us far less harshly than we do ourselves. Being honest about needing help makes us seem strong, not weak.

    Whether it’s a major problem like daily anxiety, or a silly thing like getting soap in my eyes, I’ve learned that it’s crucial to just be honest about it with someone I trust.

    Whatever you may be suffering through, there are those who would happily suffer through it with you, if only you’d let them. Maybe you know them, maybe you haven’t met them yet.

    But, trust me, you’re better off seeking help than trying to do it all alone.

    We can help image via Shutterstock