Tiny Buddha

Tag: lessons

  • Nature is Our Greatest Teacher: Lessons from atop an 8,263-Foot Volcano

    Nature is Our Greatest Teacher: Lessons from atop an 8,263-Foot Volcano

    “Deep in the forest I stroll to hear the wisdom of my soul.” ~Angie Weiland-Crosby

    In October 2021, my partner and I embarked on a journey to summit Mt. St. Helens, an 8,263-foot active volcano in Washington State.

    We have hiked thousands of miles across the United States, Costa Rica, and Mexico, but this was our first attempt at a summit hike. I was bubbling with excitement and nervousness!

    Mt. St. Helen’s greeted us with grace and gentleness. The sky was clear, the views of Mt. Adams to the east were stunning, and the temperature was moderate.

    We were chatting and climbing with a sense of ease and joy, grateful to be hiking over the packed snow, which is relatively easy to walk on.

    We enjoyed the tracks left by hikers ahead of us.

    We stopped to refill our water bottles in a mountain stream.

    It was all smooth sailing at first.

    As soon as we reached 7,500 ft, that gentleness was replaced with fierceness.

    We were suddenly bombarded with 50mph winds, pelting snow and ice on our exposed faces, and nearly zero visibility.

    We tried to traverse a little bit further, as we were only 800 feet from the summit. I thought, “We’re so close, we have to make it!”

    When the pelting snow and ice became too much to bear, we took a short refuge behind an outcropping. We put on warmer clothes, gloves, and goggles, and then assessed the situation. (Images of Into Thin Air were reeling through my brain!)

    We quickly made the decision to turn around and begin the descent to calmer, warmer, and safer conditions. We met other hikers who had made the same decision. I was disappointed, but also grateful, because time and time again, mother nature shares her wisdom with us.

    During my Mt. St. Helen’s adventure, and during numerous other journeys into the wild, nature has taught me the importance of…

    1. Humility

    We are part of the natural world. We did not come into it, we came out of it, and, at the same time, there are forces far more powerful than us out there in the wilds. Those forces are scary and beautiful. Invigorating and potentially dangerous. Humbling and empowering.

    The natural world offers us boundless opportunities for realizing and practicing humility. When navigating our day to day lives, our problems seem so acute and so important. And they are important, because they are our experience of the world. However, when we zoom out from the minutiae of our lives, we are offered a different perspective.

    We are reminded of our sheer physical smallness. We are reminded of the paradox that we are both important and unimportant. And this truth is not depressing, it is liberating. Nature reminds us that we are not the center of the universe, and that it’s all really not that serious.

    During my Mt. St. Helen’s journey, humility was essential for survival. I knew I was no match for the powerful winds. I thought I had a plan and was in control of my day, but mother nature demoted my ego and reminded me how little control I really have, both on the mountain that day and in my daily life.

    Practicing humility and releasing control does not mean we stop taking action toward our goals, but rather that we learn to steer the ship with the current, not against it. We learn to adjust and pivot and be in partnership with forces outside of ourselves.

    I practice humility when navigating roadblocks and challenges in my life. For example, in my business, every time I reach a new milestone, I celebrate it first. Then, I view it as a portal into learning something new and perfecting my craft.

    Humility prevents me from becoming complacent and from thinking I have all the answers. The more I learn and know, the more I learn that I don’t know. And what a beautiful experience it is to be a forever student of the universe.

    2. Intuitive Discernment

    I didn’t let fear guide me on that summit hike; rather, I stayed calm, listened to my intuition and my body, and quickly discerned the potential danger ahead.

    These two words, “intuitive” and “discernment,” might seem at odds with each other, but I have found the combination of intuition and logic to be powerful.

    Intuition stems partly from past experiences, allowing us to act quickly, when necessary, to keep ourselves safe, whereas logic can help us determine the best steps to do so. To make wise decisions, we need to both listen to our gut and analyze the facts.

    On Mt. St. Helen’s, my intuition was telling me to turn around. I allowed space for this to come through, and I took a few moments to also think logically about what to do. It was from this space that we made the safe decision to turn around.

    Similarly, in my professional world, my intuition is guiding me toward writing more. I am also using discernment to list all of the past evidence that writing is the path for me. In other words, I am combining intuition and logic, and I’ve found that this combination offers great alignment among all parts of me.

    3. Impermanence

    Seasons, weather, circumstances, and emotions are all temporary. It’s all in flux. When we can accept this, and release attachments to people, events, and outcomes, then we can begin to discover inner peace. When we accept impermanence, we open ourselves to gratitude and presence.

    This isn’t always easy. We tend to define ourselves in relation to other people and our roles, and we often interpret endings as failures. But every ending brings with it lessons and new beginnings.

    And the beauty of embracing impermanence is that this reminds us that everything eventually ends—including times of struggle.

    My partner and I plan to summit Mt. St. Helen’s again this year. Who knows what the volcano will have in store for us in a few months, but whatever it is, I know it will be in service to me.

    In my day-to-day life, last winter, I found myself in a dark place, but I trusted that this space was temporary, and that proved to be true. Now, as now the seasons have changed, I am feeling grounded and light. I am savoring it, and I know that other challenges and hardships will come my way. I am open to it all, knowing none of it will last forever.

    So my invitation to you is to deepen your relationship with the earth. Go outside. Sink your bare feet into the grass. Dig your hands into the soil. Let the sun kiss your face. Breathe. Open your heart to the wisdom of our earth.

  • Temporary People Who Taught You Permanent Lessons

    Temporary People Who Taught You Permanent Lessons

  • 7 Lessons from My Father That Have Made Me a Better, Happier Person

    7 Lessons from My Father That Have Made Me a Better, Happier Person

    “A father is neither an anchor to hold us back, nor a sail to take us there, but a guiding light whose love shows us the way.” ~Unknown

    I couldn’t understand his grateful mindset, especially given his obvious rapid decline. My dad was dying. None of us could reconcile a life without our mentor, hero, spouse, brother, uncle, friend, and champion of cheesy dinner table games.

    But it was coming, and we all knew it. Still, he’d tell us he’s “counting his blessings, not his struggles.” This from a man with a failing liver and ammonia on his brain.

    When that fateful morning arrived, my mom and I were in direct alignment with him. We’d stayed by his bedside all night, watching for any changes to his breathing. It seemed to settle—at least, the rattle was gone. Soon, we were also unable to breathe as we watched him slip away to his next chapter.

    He didn’t really look like himself, but he looked peaceful. I felt an immediate panic that I’d left unanswered questions on the table. About his past. About my grandparents that I never knew. About how to maneuver through an uncertain future… Do we lock in for the longer-term mortgage rate? Do we renovate the house now, never or in a few years? Do we pull our kid out of school for an epic family adventure?

    Dad would know these things.

    Despite my aching heart, I’ve realized over the last few months that my dad left us with a legacy of Golden Rules. These will pop into my head randomly, but sometimes I wonder… It seems whenever I long for his wisdom, I hear his voice whispering:

    “Count your blessings, not your struggles.”

    Easier said than done, right? But we can all find something to be cheerful about. My dad weathered deep pain in his last month of life. His leg cramps were the worst! It was torture to see him suffer, but more torturous to witness his declining cognitive function.

    Because my dad was a capable, super-human of a man. He built companies from nothing, organized events to support our city, and could relate to anyone he ever met. To watch him struggle with his phone, and to hear his slurred, slowed-down speech, killed me. And yet… Even ten days before his last day on earth, he continued to believe he was lucky.

    “If it weren’t for my liver disease, I wouldn’t have all these check-ins by my grandkids!” 

    “If it weren’t for the ammonia on my brain, I wouldn’t have had all this extra time with you, Sammy.” (I’d taken a leave of absence from my serving job to be more available.)

    His courageous outlook inspires me to do better. Instead of lamenting my long list of grievances, I can choose to focus on the good in my life. I’m healthy. My kids still think I’m cool. My husband supports my new business gig. I’ve let my gray grow in and have been told it’s not “that cringy.” I believe in myself. I have a lot to be grateful for.

    “You can’t teach a lamb to bark.”

    For years, I tried to mold my youngest daughter into the person I thought would be her best self. I fought her incessant quest to be online, even though she had some prodigious knack for beating all the levels in her games. I pushed playdates on her, because they seemed “age-appropriate” and a “better use” of her time when all she wanted was to be alone.

    I’d lecture her on speaking up; I’d answer for her whenever adults put her on the spot; I’d correct her sometimes quirky behaviour; I’d badger her for not opening up to me.

    The list goes on.

    One day, for reasons related to my nephew and not my daughter, my dad politely informed the family that “you can’t teach a lamb to bark.” It took us a beat, but then it sunk in.

    My kid is an introvert. She should not be shamed into behaving more gregariously. My kid likes gaming, and she’s good at it. Why should I take that away from her if we have some healthy boundaries in place? She doesn’t want to be forced into social situations just because other kids her age want that. My kid is a lamb. I should not expect her to bark.

    “Sit on an emotional email for a day or two.”

    This rule saved my bacon countless times over my sixteen-year career in finance. In the heat of some frustrating situation—often defied by any sense of logic—I’d craft seething emails to send to our head office. In my rookie years, I sent some of them and regretted the fallout immediately.

    Having an emotional response to disappointing news is a natural reaction; it’s part of our humanity to feel. But he would always say, “Sammy, imagine your email is printed on the front page of the Globe & Mail [our national newspaper]. Make sure you’ve digested everything first and given yourself the space to think critically.”

    His technique led to dozens of phone calls rather than heat-infused emails whose tone could potentially be misinterpreted. Or I’d sit on them and just never hit send, later realizing, my knee-jerk reaction would have set off a chain of even more difficult situations I’d rather avoid.

    Then there were those that I would send. I’m proud of them… because I was able to express myself from a place of patience, time, and space. Our initial reaction to things does not always end up as the final say.

    “No amount of past trauma can hold you back if you can forgive and find purpose.”

    As a young boy, my dad was molested by a close family member for years. He repressed this abuse, until one day, the world he built to hide his unconscious pain crashed down on all of us.

    The details are difficult to relive. He was accused of some terrible things. He lost his high-powered position in finance. He’d been living a double life, fighting a sex addiction that had manifested out of his childhood trauma. Something none of us, including him, knew anything about. I was eighteen at the time. I thought for sure my mom would leave him. I remember thinking we would lose the house, and that there could be no way through this.

    When his hidden truth rose to the surface, he began to dig into his past and we watched him fight to keep the family together; rebuilding, restoring, and recovering. In his quest to prove himself worthy, he took on a new purpose. He was not going to let his past define him. He was going to forgive. And he was going to help other male survivors of sexual abuse.

    It was hard for us to watch him speak so candidly about his addiction and past. But the more open he was in his speaking engagements, the more courage he passed onto others who’d been suffering in silence. To witness my father rise above and advocate so passionately has taught me the greatest life lesson around: we have more power than we realize.  

    If we don’t like the chapter we’ve written, we can start a new one. We can make productive choices to use our pain in the service of others. We do not need to stay victimized.

    “Just say the truth.”

    If I had a dollar for every time I pulled my dad’s sleeve and asked, “What should I say to this person, Dad?” I’d have a lot of extra dollars! It used to annoy the Bejesus out of me, because his blunt reply seemed to come without any actual consideration.

    One day early in my career, I was in “a slump.” I hadn’t managed to secure any prospect meetings in weeks and was feeling lousy about myself. Desperation exuded out my pores. I did have one appointment coming in, though; he was a friend of a friend. But I thought for sure he’d already have his financial ducks in a row. He was a doctor, after all.

    About an hour before the meeting, the sweat stains began to show through my tailored navy blazer. What could little old me possibly do to help this guy? I was certain our mutual friend had called in a favor to get him to meet with me.

    “Dad, what do I even say to him?”

    “Just say the truth.”

    “That I’m a rookie and nervous to meet him?”

    “Yup.”

    “Not helpful, Dad.”

    As it turned out, I went with his whole “say the truth” guidance, which seemed to immediately disarm this nice man. And as that turned out, he gave me a chance to review the plans he had in place. I wound up saving him money and replacing his unreliable ‘parachute’ with a more airtight solution.

    My relationship with this client eventually morphed into a specialization in looking after physicians’ insurance needs. He told me it was my down-to-earth nature and zero “know-it-all” attitude that led him to trust me.

    Since then, I come back to this favorite line of Dad’s anytime I begin to concoct an excuse for backing out of plans. It’s easier to say it like it is: “I bit off more than I can chew; can we reschedule?”

    “You can’t steal second without leaving first.”

    That was my dad’s shortened version of the Frederick B. Wilcox quote, “Progress always involves risk; you can’t steal second base and keep your foot on first.” Dad loved a good baseball analogy!

    I’ve applied this to my life countless times when mulling over whether to take a chance. I used it when I was twenty-four, after being dumped by my fiancé just months before our wedding. Ended up dragging my sad ass to the city we were going to start our lives in, without having secured a job. I told myself I was young and had nothing to lose. That I’d figure it out. And I did.

    I used it when my husband and I opted for expensive fertility treatments. We knew it was a crapshoot, but we wanted another child. On the other hand, the money we had set aside made us feel secure. Thank God we took that chance. Our little Saffron was born nine months and two weeks later.

    The highest stakes use of this mantra came when I began to dread going into work several years ago. I felt like a hamster on the treadmill, always under pressure and in hot pursuit of a carrot I could never reach. If it wasn’t my insomnia, the leaking left eye and chronic stomach aches were enough to tell me something needed to change.

    I’d had dreams for the future, but no real battleplan. I knew, however, if I sold my business, I’d have a little runway to try my hand at reinventing myself. Still, I clung tightly to security. I was the main breadwinner and couldn’t be so foolish.

    I ended up walking away, deciding life was too short to hate my Monday through Friday for another fifteen, twenty years. Others had managed to reinvent themselves. Surely, I could, too.

    That chapter in the Book of Sam is still unfolding, and I don’t consider my reinvention reckless. I consider it vital to my life force. If I’d kept my foot on first base, I’d still be there… looking off in the distance at second… wondering if I could make it. That wondering would haunt me. I’d rather know I tried than skip it altogether.

    “Don’t wait until funerals to tell people they’re special.”

    More than a decade ago, a friend of ours lost his battle with cancer. He was a legend in the business and a close pal of my dad’s. He lived in another city, and though we’d meet for focus groups once a year, we regretted not having the chance to tell him how special he was.

    When Randy died, Dad took immediate action. He invited some clients over for a dinner at his and my mom’s home, motivated to seize the day. At first, I thought it was bizarre he’d bought these wigs and weird hats at some costume store, insisting we all don something ridiculous while we ate our meal.

    But when that client was killed in a plane crash a few months later, I finally got the message. We cannot wait to let someone know they matter.

    On December 2nd, 2019, I walked into a so-called ‘networking’ event thinking, “Just a few more of these and then this career and I are done!” Instead, it was a surprise retirement party,” hosted by my dad, in honor of me.

    I was floored. Instead of thinking about himself and the impact my leaving would have on his succession plan, my dad got busy concocting a farewell party. He flew in my sister from out west. Colleagues from down east. Clients were there. He managed to assemble every special person in my life, and I spent the evening listening to people tell me that I mattered.

    It was like a reverse funeral. Let’s call it, the death of my career… cheered on by those I loved and had helped in my years as a financial advisor. I could cry thinking about the effort he put into this special evening.

    If my dad were alive right now, I think he’d be proud to know these lessons have sunk in. But just like you, I’m a work in progress. I’ll be needing his guidance as I continue to walk my new path. So, to all the dads that have shown up for their children, thank you. Not everyone has had this blessing in their life.

  • Feeling Weighed Down by Regret? What Helps Me Let Go

    Feeling Weighed Down by Regret? What Helps Me Let Go

    “Be kind to past versions of yourself that didn’t know the things you know now.” ~Unknown

    When I taught yoga classes in jails in Colorado and New Jersey, I would end class with the Metta Meditation:

    May we all feel forgiveness.

    May we all feel happiness.

    May we all feel loved.

    May all our sufferings be healed.

    May we feel at peace.

    The women, all clothed in light gray sweatpants, would be in a relaxed yoga posture, usually lying on their yoga mat with their legs up the wall. The fluorescent lights would be full blast, as they always are in a jail or prison. Some women would feel comfortable closing their eyes. Some wouldn’t.

    With quiet meditative music playing, I led the meditation with the gentlest voice that I could, taking into consideration that the noise outside the room would be loud. Often, we could hear the incessant dribbling of basketballs in the men’s gym. Someone in the complex might be yelling, and we all would have to work past it.

    As I spoke that first line, “May I feel forgiveness,” their tears would start, steady streams rolling down their faces. When we would talk afterward, they said that the most challenging part of the practice was forgiving themselves.

    If these inmates had been allowed to dress as they wanted, they would have seemed like any other group of yoga students.

    I couldn’t tell who had murdered someone—because their life felt so desperate; or who had too many DWIs—because their addictions (the ones that they used to cover up abuse and trauma) were out of control; or who got a restraining order against an abuser, and then violated it herself—because she was sure he would be loving this time.

    Now that they were incarcerated, their parents and children were also suffering the consequences.

    Choices That Become Regrets

    We can all understand that our personal choices have sometimes created challenges for others. Some of us were just lucky that we weren’t incarcerated for our decisions.

    We have all made decisions that we wish we could reverse. We have said things that we want to take back. We neglected something important, sacred, and cherished, and there were consequences. We might have been too naive or too absorbed in principle or perfection, and there were emotional casualties.

    These regrets lurk in the backs of our minds. They are like dark shadows stalking our heart space, with ropes binding our self-acceptance, keeping us from flying high. We might still be feeling the repercussions of choices made twenty, thirty, forty years ago. And even today, the shame and guilt impact our decision-making.

    The mistakes I made that affected my children are the most challenging to process. The abuse in my second marriage was harmful to my children, my community, and me. The fallout took years to unwind.

    When life seemed back to normal, I had time to see my part in the trauma—mainly the red flags that I ignored when I was dating him. Ignoring what went on in his first marriage and the comments that he said, that made me feel uncomfortable, but I didn’t respond to, are my hindsight, my ball and chain, dragging on my self-worth. Time was healing, but I could also be triggered by even little mistakes. Even if I said something wrong in a conversation, like we all do, I could be pulled down the slippery slope to a pile of unresolved remorse.

    I have come to enough resolve not to think about those stories most of the time. I’m not sure that I will ever find total peace with some of them. I know that they still have the power to sabotage my peace of mind.

    I know that it is worth the effort to come to some resolution of our regrets, even if we have to keep chipping away at them over time.

    Processing Regrets Consciously

    One way that I have processed regret is to write out the story. Dump it all out of my head—including the hard stuff. If possible, I write out what I would do or say differently the next time. I find that there is healing in knowing that I have learned from my past mistakes.

    Writing the story out can also give me a clear picture of what amends I need to make.

    Is there someone to say I’m sorry to? Do I need to muster the courage to have a heartfelt dialogue with the other player in the story? Or if I have already said I’m sorry, do I need to forgive myself? Do I need to consciously let the story go now? Do I need to remind myself that it doesn’t do me any good to dwell on the story?

    I also take my regrets to my meditation practice.

    One of my most potent times of processing regret happened when I was sitting on the garden roof of our stone home, early one morning in the spring. I was feeling heavy. The weight of the abuse in my second marriage, and the resulting divorce, was pulling me down once again.

    Listening to the birds singing to each other, I felt a sudden inspiration to recite the Metta Meditation—the one that had brought tears to the inmates’ eyes in those faraway jails.

    “May we all feel forgiveness,” I began. This time, the wonderment of my surroundings combined with the ancient familiar words to give me a feeling of release and freedom I hadn’t felt before. The sound of birdsong let me know that I could let go of another piece of my remorse over what I could have done differently. My tears welled up. My heart relaxed.

    Accepting that I might not see complete harmony with my regrets is, itself, part of letting them go. I have heard this from other clients.

    A common challenge for women in the second half of life is not feeling close to their children. Marcia, the mother of five adult children, regrets how hard she was on her oldest daughter. Her attempts to repair the relationship haven’t had the results she wanted. Accepting that this estrangement might or might not be temporary is challenging. She has assured her daughter that she wishes to be closer, and that is the peace that she can find each day.

    We also might need to find a resolution with someone who has already passed. I came to peace with my mother, twelve years after she died, using the Metta Meditation. That completely surprised me and freed up my heart more than I ever thought possible.

    Becoming Whole

    Every regret, memory of shame, and overwhelming guilt are part of who we are. When we are driven by them, we might make choices that aren’t in our best interest. We might believe that we don’t merit good things or that we deserve to be relentlessly punished. If we fuel our regrets by reiterating them, we reinforce our shame and increase the emotional charge. Our spirit will continue to be fragmented, tethered to the past, and we will feel incomplete.

    If we can process our regrets with tenderness and compassion, we can use these hard memories as a part of our wisdom bank.

    Wholehearted living is accepting ourselves with all the mistakes that we have made. Wholehearted living is compassion for all the times in our life when we made mistakes. It is understanding that we are not alone—every single adult has regrets. When we live wholeheartedly, we can have healthier relationships and make wiser decisions in all our endeavors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    —

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

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

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

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

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

  • 5 Life-Changing Pieces of Advice I Would Give to My Younger Self

    5 Life-Changing Pieces of Advice I Would Give to My Younger Self

    “I’d go back to my younger self and say, ‘Lighten up. Take it easy. Relax. Don’t be so anxious about everything. Try not to have today stolen from you by anxiety about yesterday or tomorrow.’” ~Bill Nighy

    I believe there is great power in looking back at our past to learn from our experiences, mistakes, and regrets.

    The Spanish philosopher George Santayana remarked, “Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it.” I might add that the history we need to study the most is our personal history so that we don’t keep making the same mistakes over and over again in our lives.

    If I had the option to go back to my past, this is the advice I would give my younger self.

    1. Express yourself freely and work to overcome your shyness.

    In the past, there were many opportunities that I didn’t take and many friendships that I failed to make because I was shy and often felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. Some people would interpret my shyness as rudeness, so it was crippling to me in many ways.

    Advice to myself:

    Make a conscious effort to interact and express yourself freely around others, no matter how uncomfortable it may make you feel in the moment. If you struggle, take deep breaths to relax yourself and calm your irrational thoughts.

    Nobody is judging you and analyzing you as thoroughly as you may think. Everybody is too absorbed in their own world to spend time caring about every little thing you say and do.

    Try to do the opposite of what a shy person would do in any given situation. Easier said than done, I know, but if you do that long enough, you’ll start creating a new identity for yourself in your mind. That’s really all you have to do to overcome being shy. The more you do it, the easier it gets and the more confident you’ll become, and soon it will feel natural.

    2. Stop fighting your negative feelings.

    For the longest time, I would try to resist and battle my negative emotions, like anxiety,  hoping they would go away somehow. If I felt that familiar knot in my stomach and started thinking anxious thoughts, I’d tell myself I should be positive because our thoughts create our reality.

    A couple of years ago, I finally realized that the way to free yourself of negative emotions, as counter-intuitive as it sounds, is to accept them.

    The more we try to fight our feelings with the underlying thought “I shouldn’t be feeling this way,” the worse we feel. However, these feelings pass much faster when we allow ourselves to feel them without judging them or thinking that they shouldn’t be happening.

    Advice to myself:

    Let go of the need to try and fix your negative emotions with your mind.

    Accept your unpleasant feelings and focus your attention fully on the sensations these emotions invoke instead of thinking thoughts like “I shouldn’t be feeling this way,” “This shouldn’t be happening.”

    When you do this, you will find that the unpleasant feelings dissolve much more quickly, and you will stop making things worse by feeding them with more energy.

    View your feelings as visitors, for they always come and go. Like most visitors, all they want is your attention and acknowledgement, and once you give them what they want, they will be on their way.

    3. Embrace uncertainty.

    In college, I spent a long time desperately trying to figure out my future, wishing for clarity on what I should be doing with my life.

    Many of us have a compelling need to have our whole lives all figured out. We hate not knowing where life may take us, and we seek the comfort of knowing what the future has in store for us.

    But no amount of mental analysis of our future can provide us with the answers. And that’s okay, because we don’t always need to know what we will be doing a year from now.

    Sometimes the only thing you can do is trust in life. Because when we are not trusting, we automatically start worrying, because that’s our mind’s default tendency.

    Advice to myself:

    Know that it’s okay to be confused and not have all the answers. Learn to be okay with not knowing and make room for surprise and mystery, because that’s a big part of what makes life exciting and interesting.

    Most of your fears and worries about the future, if you closely examine them, are nothing more than mental fabrications and do not exist anywhere else than in your mind. Most of the things you worry about won’t actually happen, and even if they do, you might learn and grow from those experiences. Hence there is no need to take your fears so seriously and get worked up over them.

    4. Stop trying to run away from discomfort.

    Our mind tends to prefer the known and comfortable and likes to seek out the easiest way to feel good.

    We’re often hesitant to do things that require effort or make us feel uncomfortable, since our natural tendency is to avoid feeling any discomfort.

    But many of the things that are beneficial for us and worth doing in life will require enduring some kind of discomfort. To run away from discomfort is to run away from growing and evolving as a person.

    That’s exactly what I did for most of my life. I avoided meditating, exercising, journaling, and spending time alone without technology—habits that have all had a positive impact on my life—during the times when I would have benefited from them the most because I felt resistance whenever I tried to get started.

    I also avoided being vulnerable with other people. But I’ve noticed over the last two years that if I stay with the discomfort of interacting with new people instead of running away, as I used to do, the interactions ultimately become rewarding and enjoyable.

    This is true of most things—reward lies on the other side of discomfort, but first we have to push through.

    Advice to myself:

    The mind can be very persuasive and convincing and come up with an endless list of reasons to procrastinate or avoid feeling any discomfort. But don’t let your mind deceive you.

    Discomfort often points toward what you should be doing, not what you should be avoiding. Be willing to dive deep into discomfort and learn to embrace it. It will help you more than you know.

    5. Accept yourself and stop judging yourself.

    When I was in college, I used to judge myself a lot because many of my interests, such as spirituality and metaphysics, were very different from all my friends’ interests.

    It was a few years later that it finally dawned on me that I needed to stop looking outside for validation and permission to accept myself.

    Once you learn to accept yourself, it doesn’t matter what others may or may not think. Other people’s opinions may bother you fleetingly, but you will need to live with what you think about yourself every day, so don’t make it hard by judging yourself.

    Advice to myself:

    You don’t need to judge yourself or feel embarrassed about wanting to spend your free time journaling, meditating, reading books, or enjoying spending time alone by yourself.

    Don’t feel compelled to be like everyone else, and there is absolutely no reason to be apologetic for following and doing what lights you up.

    Because the truth is, it’s okay to be different and unique. Imagine how boring the world would be if we were all the same.

    —

    If you could talk with your younger self, what would you say? What do you think you would have done differently? What advice would you have for them?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • When People We Love Die: How to Honor Their Legacies and Lessons

    When People We Love Die: How to Honor Their Legacies and Lessons

    “The song is ended, but the melody lingers on.” ~Irving Berlin

    I never went for any of my grandparent’s funerals as a young child, and honestly, I was secretly glad that I didn’t. I was too young to comprehend what death felt like, and I don’t think I had the strength in me to do so. So, when I heard about their deaths, I told myself stories that they had gone on an extended vacation and were having loads of fun, and hence we couldn’t see them.

    This story played in my mind all through the years, and that’s what kept me moving on. But deep inside, I knew I had an intense fear of death and couldn’t stare at it in its face.

    But recently I had to face it when I went to a funeral for a colleague who was like a mentor to me. His sudden and untimely death was like a punch to the gut.

    After his funeral, we went into lockdown, and it felt like the whole world had gone into mourning. It felt as though his death made life come to a standstill. That’s the kind of impression DM had on me. My head went reeling into a state of shock, and I couldn’t tell quite what had just happened and why.

    You see, DM was a magnanimous personality. He was full of life, compassionate, caring, planned, organized, and all of sixty.

    He was radiating with good health, till one fateful day in September he suddenly suffered a stroke. But he fought like a tiger and was soon on the mend. I could picture him coming back to work at least at some level shortly. The stroke took him by surprise as well, for he was quite health conscious and very mindful of his eating habits, etc.

    I always thought I would see DM enjoying retired life, spending it golfing, running charity events, enjoying a good karaoke, singing, entertaining, and spending time with the people he loved. Amidst all his fun, I thought he would still be part of the business as a wise sage. But my dreams were shattered when in January, he suffered some further complications.

    I didn’t think much of it, because had fought like a tiger before and I was sure he would do it again. But it seemed that fate had other plans and took him from us on the 11th of March.

    I could not quite comprehend how or why that happened. It was death rearing its ugly head once again. This time no story could tell me otherwise. I saw no escape because DM and I worked together, and I would miss his presence at work. No amount of storytelling could keep me from facing the truth. He had died, and there was nothing that I could do about it. I had to face this truth.

    I couldn’t bear the thought of being back in the office. The idea repulsed me. I was not sure I would be able to cope. But I had to because we were going into lockdown, and I had to wrap up to start working from home. Every time I went to the office I could still feel his presence there. My stomach would churn.

    I found it challenging to come to terms with his death. How would I get over it?

    I had met DM at a time in my life when I was feeling my lowest. My husband was abroad then, and my kids were small.

    I remember the interview. It was a mortgage admin job, and I was overqualified for it. But the work timings and the flexibility that the position offered fit into my grand scheme of things. And the fact that it is was in mortgages, something that I have been doing for many years pulled me toward the job.  At the interview, something told me that it was going to the best decision of my life.

    We worked together for two years, and during that time, I realized that we were similar in many ways.  DM was quiet, private, friendly, and concerned. Probably because our birthdays were just a day apart, we understood each other even without talking.

    A year later, when he and my husband decided to partner together, I was quite happy because DM was not only trustworthy, but he was also a veteran in his field, was honest and had a brilliant reputation.

    When he passed away, I grieved silently. I kept listening to the song “Memories” by Maroon 5, and something about the lyrics made feel that the singer had written the song for him.

    As I got dragged back into the mundane life I, realized that there were two things that I couldn’t come to terms with about DM’s passing.

    The first was, that to me, DM represented values like honesty, courage, resilience, hard work, kindness, compassion. I always thought that those values were timeless, immortal, and invincible. But with DM’s death, I felt those values got cremated with him. I grieved for those values because I too hold on them very dearly.

    The second reason I grieved was because I felt that life didn’t allow him to sit back relax and have fun, not have a care in the world, and spend time doing the things he loved.

    But as I pondered and reflected more on what it meant, I realized in his passing, in many ways, he handed those values to me as a legacy to carry forward so that I can use it in my life.

    I realized that his death also taught me not to wait for retirement or the future to live my life doing the things I love and want to do. Life is way too precarious, short, and precious for that. We will never know when our time will come, so we must use our time on earth well doing the things we love.

    With that, I realized the person we love or respect never leaves us. They always remain with us in spirit, through memories, in the legacies, lessons, and values they leave behind, just like DM did for me.

    What legacy has your loved one left for you? They must have indeed left something behind. They leave it so that you can carry forward the excellent work they started. It takes time, patience, and courage to see that, and it might be hard when you’re deeply enmeshed in grief. Feel everything you need to feel first, then ask yourself:

    What was important to them? What values did they uphold? What did you admire about how they lived, and how can you embody this in your own life? What can you learn from their choices—the ones they made and the ones they didn’t?

    Jamie Anderson wrote that grief is just love with nowhere to go. So when you’re ready, put all that love into honoring the message they’d want to leave behind.

    As I reflect on what my grandparents would have wanted to leave me, I realize it was to live my best life possible. I am ready to carry their torch ahead! What about you?

  • Healing From the Painful Cycle of Loss and Abandonment

    Healing From the Painful Cycle of Loss and Abandonment

    “You have not been abandoned. You are never alone, except by your own choice.” ~Jonathan Lockwood Huie

    Loss is never an easy experience. However, it is a part of life, so we need to accept it and find ways to cope with it in order to keep moving forward.

    Whether someone dies or chooses to end a relationship, loss hurts and can leave us feeling abandoned and potentially leave deep wounds and scars.

    I recently read something that suggested abandonment is a type of trauma, and it can cause symptoms similar to PTSD when the abandonment issues from our past are triggered in the present. When those emotions are triggered, we go into fight-or-flight mode.

    I experienced a great deal of loss early in my life, and it created issues around abandonment, trust, and insecurity. Although most of the loss was through the passing of loved ones, I also experienced abandonment as a child and young adult from people close to me, who were alive and well and a significant part of my life.

    It began when I was only seven and my mom discovered she had a brain tumor. She passed away when I was ten. My dad was never honest with me about how seriously ill she was and the fact that most likely she was going to die. I was always told that mommy was going to be okay.

    Even though I know now that he was trying to protect me, it was the start of many repeating patterns in my life. Patterns of loss, abandonment, and deception.

    Was anyone ever going to be honest with me? Was anyone ever going to genuinely love me and stick around?

    I lost many other family members between the ages of ten and twenty-four, culminating with my dad. Our relationship had become strained over the years after my mom passed, mainly because his new wife, who he’d brought into our lives shortly after my mom’s death, seemed to have little compassion for a young girl who had lost her mother.

    She and her daughter became the new priorities in my dad’s life. I felt abandoned at a young age by the one man who I believed would be there for me after losing my mom.

    As I progressed into my teenage years and early twenties, I was looking for love and security anywhere I could find it. When I did find it, I tried to hold on way too tightly, so tightly that I often lost what I had.

    After my teenage years, I continued looking for love, for security, and for someone who would be open and honest with me; someone I could trust 100%. I wanted someone who would put me first. I was looking for someone who would finally prove to me that I was lovable and worth fighting and sticking around for.

    Over and over again, I looked outside of myself instead of learning how to find the love and security I so desperately wanted within myself.

    I have been in various relationships since the age of sixteen, starting with a seven-year relationship that felt like another huge loss when it ended. Not only did I lose him, but also his family, which had become a surrogate for my own. There were a few short-term relationships after that, and then I got married at twenty-seven after dating someone for two years. We separated five years ago, officially divorced three years ago, and after that I went into another relationship.

    All the loss and deception I experienced early on in life have created various fears, fears I now know I’ve created. A fear of being alone (which is why I’ve gone from relationship to relationship), a fear of not being enough, a fear that someone is going to leave me again in some way, a fear that people are not going to be honest with me.

    We all have our own experiences in life and our own stories. The important thing is what we do with them. Do we take them and learn from them, or do we take any gut-wrenching experiences we’ve been through and play the victim, wanting others to feel sorry for us?

    I will admit, I did play the victim for many years, and I wanted anyone and everyone to feel sorry for me. Many people told me that I was a strong person despite everything I had been through, but it took me many years to see that for myself. At one point when I was younger, I did see it, but then it got buried for quite a long time; however, I am now slowly finding it once again.

    I’ve been taking a deeper look at my life and the things I’ve been through, specifically when it comes to love and relationships.

    I’ve come to realize that I have attracted the same type of man many times. I believe this is based on the initial abandonment by my father, who couldn’t seem to be emotionally available for a young girl who had lost her mother and instead dove right into something new in order to not have to truly face it himself.

    When I look at some of the most serious relationships I’ve had in my life to date, I see they were all with men who were emotionally unavailable. Men who lacked empathy and compassion and who didn’t know how to be there when I was truly struggling. Much like my father.

    I realize that I’ve had this belief that if I could convince just one emotionally unavailable man to change, truly care, and be there for me—to heal the wounds of this little girl—then somehow it would make up for the hurt I experienced as a young child who felt alone and hurt and deceived for so many years.

    I thought that if I could just change one man, this would take away all the pain I had in my life for all these years. The pain that was like a knife in my heart that someone just kept twisting and turning, leaving an open wound that could never heal.

    There were times when I did things that didn’t feel right to me, just so the man I was with would love me and stay. I was not being authentic to myself, just so I wouldn’t be abandoned and alone.

    I was not learning the lessons I needed to learn, so what do you think the universe kept providing? Men who were emotionally unavailable or deceptive. Men who I could not fully trust, men who had no empathy, men who left me feeling unsafe and insecure, men who I changed who I was for.

    Finally, my eyes are starting to open. I see now that until I heal these wounds within me, on my own, I won’t find satisfaction in any relationship. I need to discover my path to healing, to being whole and complete, in order to have the relationship I truly want.

    So that is exactly what I am currently working on. Healing those childhood scars, learning to love myself, realizing that I am enough and that I deserve so much more than I’ve experienced up until now. 

    I know that I deserve honesty and respect, care and compassion, and a man who makes me a priority in his life. I just turned fifty last year, and although part of me wishes I could have figured things out a long time ago, I believe everything happens when it is meant to, and I am okay with that.

    We all learn the lessons we need to learn at different paces. It may be a long road, or it may be a short one. It may be easy, or it may be hard.

    One thing I can assure you of based on my own personal experience: the universe will continue to provide the opportunity to learn the lessons you need to learn until you finally come to that moment of clarity. A moment where it all becomes crystal clear, like a lake on a still, quiet day. A day when you have an awakening and can finally begin to move forward.

    And then, you will move on to your next lesson, because in life there will always be something to learn. If we aren’t learning, we aren’t growing.

    So, if you’ve been struggling with something that seems to be repeating itself in your life, take a look at what you’ve been through and see if you can find a cycle or a pattern there. Think back to where this pattern first began, most likely in your childhood.

    Try to step outside the emotions of your current situation and see the deeper work you need to do to truly heal so you can create change in your life. That might mean healing from early abandonment, like me, so you stop choosing people who will reject you. Or it may mean recognizing your worth as a person so you stop sabotaging yourself. Whatever your pattern, there’s one constant: you. The first step is to acknowledge that self-awareness is truly key!

    Then dig down and find your strength; it’s in there! Make a decision that you are going to learn your lessons, break that pattern, and find true happiness in your life. We all deserve that!

  • 5 Positive Lessons from the Coronavirus Crisis

    5 Positive Lessons from the Coronavirus Crisis

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “What is to give light must endure the burning.” ~Viktor Frankl

    The world is facing challenging times of crisis. Closed borders and travel bans, quarantine, shortage of food supply, scary news, and much fear. Viruses don’t care about our status, money, or fame, spreading from state officials to famous actors.

    Being a human right now is not easy. My thoughts are with those who lost a family member or a friend. I can’t imagine the pain of those battling mental or emotional illnesses during dramatic life changes. Some are struggling to put food on the table. Some lost their jobs. Some are alone and afraid.

    During turbulent times of stress, I feel worried, sad, and confused. Meanwhile, I show up every single day and do the best I can to help myself, my loved ones, and my community.

    I keep myself informed from reliable sources and stay away from negativity and drama. With all the toxic news imparted to us over TV and social media channels, it takes some inner work to keep ourselves balanced and calm.

    I know there are many things far beyond my control: earthquakes, tsunamis, the rain, the sunset, the stock market, political changes, economies that are going to collapse, this pandemic included.

    But there’s one thing I can surely self-manage, and that is my inner world: my actions, my thoughts, my emotions. The way I respond to whatever happens outside my inner space is totally up to me.

    There is much power in hope and faith. A positive mindset helps to boost our immune system with serotonin, the feel-good hormone. Feeling good keeps us healthy!

    I choose to believe we live in an intelligent universe where everything happens for us, not to us. There’s no breakthrough without a breakdown. I think we are all here, students at the School of Life, to learn from our experiences and get more resilient, wiser, and stronger.

    I’ve been asking myself this question:

    What’s the message life is trying to give us? What’s the blessing in disguise, the gain in pain?

    Here are five positive lessons I have learned so far from this global crisis:

    1. We have a lot to appreciate.

    “Your ancestors were called to war. You are called to stay on your couch. You can do this.” That’s what my Facebook newsfeed reminded me the other day.

    Oh, boy! That really helped to put things into perspective.

    A big thank you to the medical staff all around the world, those doctors, nurses taking care of the sick, facing sleep deprivation, while most of us are currently stuck in the comfort of our homes.

    A big thank you to all the workers in the grocery stores or doing online deliveries these days. I see you, and I do appreciate what you do.

    Because of this virus crisis, my family had to postpone our vacation—another wake-up call. There are so many things I’ve been taking for granted! Good health. The water and food supply. The internet and cable. The car. The shelter. The nice parties with my friends. The coffee shop. The gym subscription. The beauty salon. The freedom of traveling and seeing the world. And so much more! For all this, I am truly thankful.

    2. Everything is easier when we stay grounded in the now.

    Life doesn’t always go as planned; it can be very unpredictable. With so much confusion and uncertainty, staying grounded can be a challenge. Especially for people like me, who’ve lived decades trying to have full control over everyone and everything—how people acted or felt, how my future was going to look, and so on.

    A panicked mind can’t see and think clearly, and fear sells well.

    To be mindful is to realize our mind is full. So what is it currently full of?

    Here are some of my worries since this pandemic took off:

    What if we end up with no food? How am I going to feed my baby?

    What if my mother (who works in a hospital) gets sick?

    What if our savings get ruined?

    Such concerns are human. But we can always choose which kind of thoughts we allow into our minds.

    Whenever I find myself tormented by “what if” questions, I check the sanity of my thoughts. I ask myself: Is that true? How is this thought helping me right now? How would my life be if I let go of this thought?

    Such questions help me realize everything in the future is an illusion, a possibility, and my worries are not real. Whatever I might be fearing, I am not there yet.

    I need to learn how to trust the flow of life and surrender when the only reality is time will tell.

    3. Life isn’t just about doing; it’s also about being.

    Today’s modern society has transformed many of us into doers, performers, and over-achievers. Since an early age, we’ve been conditioned to value ourselves through how well we do things in life. Most of us were raised to deliver results, always running somewhere, always busy.

    Most of us need a job, and money is a much-needed instrument for us to survive. But is our existence supposed to be all about our jobs? What if the ultimate purpose of us being here was just to be happy? No matter how, if through the work we do or not?

    Today I am a coach, in the same way I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, or someone’s friend. I wearing many hats, and so do you.

    Most of us are currently getting the gift of time. And what a golden asset that is, as it means life and it’s never coming back!

    Some people are spending quality time with their loved ones. Calling old friends. Reading the good books on the waiting list. Playing with their babies. Talking to their children, asking questions, listening to what they have to say. Cooking, baking, eating together. Playing games and watching movies.

    Some are doing yoga, Pilates, dance. Spending time outdoors, cleaning their gardens. Playing with their pets. Getting creative. Painting, writing, making art.

    Others are learning new skills, signing up for new courses. Watching interesting documentaries on Gaia or Netflix. Decluttering their homes of things they don’t want, use or need.

    We’re unable to go out, so many of us go in. Sleep, recharge, pray, meditate, journal. Reflect on what’s important and what makes us truly happy.

    To many, it’s a transition from survival to living. During times of pain, we are invited to learn new ways of being—to do less and be more. To reconnect with our true human nature.

    4. We are all one.

    In a world with so much scarcity, hunger, poverty, divisions, and wars, we are reminded that, in front of adversity, we are all one.

    During times of physical disconnection, staying emotionally connected is a true blessing. Unity, collaboration, giving, support, community, service, compassion, inclusion, empathy, collaboration—such human values have never been so essential as today. People all over the world are doing so many acts of kindness!

    In our community, some ask their neighbors if they need anything before they head to the supermarket. These are the same people who, before this crisis, barely spoke to each other.

    Many volunteer their money and time these days, making sure older people have all they need. They share food, medicines, essentials, baby necessities. Support those who don’t have any savings or income.

    Some buy fresh flowers and groceries from the small local shops around the corner. Purchase vouchers and gift cards to be used later so they can keep small business alive.

    Teachers and tutors offer support for busy parents with children.

    Museums do virtual tours for free. Famous singers invite their fans to live concerts from the intimate space of their living rooms.

    Coaches, consultants, trainers, healers, spiritual teachers, and lightworkers offer resources to help people stay healthy, calm and empowered. Collective meditations and prayers are held all around the world.

    5. Challenges always lead to growth.

    Real, sustainable growth happens during challenging times that stretch us, not when everything is nice and easy.

    With so many children studying online these days, we can foresee a restructuring of the school system with a new view on homeschooling.

    With so many bars, restaurants, and malls getting closed (fewer distractions and alcohol consumption, less over consumerism), we are invited to spend less time out and focus on what’s in.

    Some people lost their jobs, which is sad. However, many were stuck with jobs they hated and didn’t believe in—a new opportunity to find something meaningful, something that brings them genuine joy and fulfillment. A great time to brainstorm possibilities and new business opportunities.

    Managers in the corporate world see they can keep their businesses up and running without unnecessary meetings and travel.

    Reduced traffic means fewer cars, subways, and planes. Less trash on the streets. Cleaner water and air. Our tired planet is taking a deep breath. Mother Earth is healing.

    Besides keeping our hands clean, let us take a mind shower, and do it often. In most countries, this is the spring season, reminding us that all endings are new beginnings and this too shall pass. It is a time for evolution, creativity,and connection. Let us be the light we want to see in the world and press the reset button. Let us take a big leap from fear to love.

  • How to Free Yourself from Your Spiritual Drama

    How to Free Yourself from Your Spiritual Drama

    “You have no friends. You have no enemies. You only have teachers.” ~Ancient Proverb

    My very wise aunt, a talented psychotherapist and one of my spiritual teachers, has told me many times that the people, places, and things that trigger us are just “props in our spiritual drama.”

    This phrase has stuck with me for years because it’s catchy and it rings so true to me. If we are struggling, it’s not a matter of the external force, it’s about what it provokes in us.

    We don’t heal by trying to change others. We heal through breaking cycles; through knowing and honoring ourselves by creating healthy boundaries, processing the past, and living presently to make different choices.

    We don’t grow by staying in the same circumstances and hoping they will be different, or by leaving one set of circumstances only to repeat the same patterns with new people and places. We grow by stepping out of our inner default programming and into discomfort, and by consciously shifting away from the patterns we know and choosing different environments and dynamics.

    The people, places, and things that come into our lives are there for our spiritual journey, learning, and evolution. We can use these ‘props’ for good, we can use them to stay stuck, or we can use them to spiral down. As adults, the choice is ours.

    The props in our spiritual drama are what trigger us the most. They may be people, situations, or even certain qualities we notice in strangers.  

    My most challenging relationship is with my father, and while I could get stuck in that hardship story, I believe that he was placed in that role to assist me in the lessons I needed to learn while growing up and into young adulthood.

    The guy that I just dated, who I fell hard and quick for, was a prop in my relationship practice and process in continuing to clearly define what I want in a partner and what healthy boundaries I need to set.

    When I feel pain in my heart and want to stand up for the child who is being yelled at by a stressed mother on the subway, it shows me my own emotional hurt and the ways I haven’t expressed my truth about how my young inner child was treated poorly.

    When I feel anger when confronted with economic inequality, inconsideration/lack of caring, and other injustices in this world, it teaches me that I am not doing enough to feel satisfied and proud of the ways in which I contribute positively to society.

    Anything that I have not made peace with, found forgiveness around, or worked out within me yet continues to be a prop that encourages my spiritual growth.

    As I’ve contemplated the props in my spiritual drama, I trust they are there to assist me on my path.

    Challenging people and situations can be very difficult to live with and through, but I believe they serve an important purpose. If we are conscious and choose to move toward growth, freedom, and love, we can take this adversity and turn it into empowerment so we are more capable of being our best selves.

    Two main points have stuck out to me as I try to evolve through my spiritual drama.

    1. Situations repeat themselves until we learn the lessons.

    The lesson is ours to be learned, so if we don’t learn it the first or the tenth time, the pattern will continue in a vicious cycle until we finally get the message and choose a different way.

    Sometimes if we examine where or by whom we are triggered, the lesson is clear right away. Other times we need some guidance because we recognize something doesn’t feel right, yet we can’t get out of our own way enough to see it clearly.

    Friends, mentors, and family members we have healthy relationships with can be great at helping us understand our cycles and patterns so we can break free. Other times, we need to go within.

    When confronted with a low point, we have the opportunity to acknowledge what isn’t working and figure out in what direction our gut wisdom is guiding us.

    Personally, I had a habit of choosing men who were very passionate about their career or a serious hobby, and they would prioritize this passion over me, which led me to feeling hurt and uncared about.

    When I held up the mirror to examine myself deeply, I was able to see that as long as I wasn’t prioritizing myself and showing up to fully love for myself, I would attract partners who would partially reject me in the same way.

    A second layer of this was that I was subconsciously living vicariously through my partners’ aliveness and passion because I was missing that in my own life. Once I developed my own passions and started doing work I love, the need to feel this joy vicariously faded away and I started desiring partners who are more balanced and can have multiple priorities.

    The change may be uncomfortable, but usually quite rewarding in the end. And the discomfort we feel moving into the unknown is better than the despair we feel when repeating the same pattern over and over and staying miserable in the ‘known.’

    2. Our triggers can help us discover unmet needs, and meet them.

    Oftentimes we feel triggered by certain people, qualities, or situations because they represent ways we feel consciously or subconsciously uncared for, attacked, neglected, and rejected.

    For example, let’s say your boss gives you some constructive feedback regarding your work, and you feel like it’s a personal attack or a criticism instead of feedback intended to support you to help you succeed.

    In this scenario, instead of feeling attacked or rejected by your boss, you could ask yourself why you’re feeling such intense emotion. Is it because you’re hypercritical of yourself? Or do you feel shamed for not getting praise or approval because that’s a pattern you were taught growing up? In this instance, the trigger might teach you that you need your own approval.

    The more we can meet our own needs and lovingly re-parent ourselves, the more these triggers will fall away. So the inquiry becomes the key to moving through this spiritual drama.

    We need to ask why to understand our triggers more deeply, shift the immediate emotional response to curiosity, and eventually release the trigger by clearing past baggage and learning the lesson to show up for ourselves differently.

    Whenever, I’m feeling particularly triggered by a person or behavior, I take a few minutes to sit quietly, go within, and ask myself what it’s about and what I need to do to take care of myself.

    Maybe my inner child needs some reassurance that she is safe and loved.

    Maybe my body needs some relaxation because my nervous system is over-stimulated or stressed.

    Maybe I need to play, dance, and move energy through my body because I’ve been too much in do/go/on mode.

    Once I take care of my own needs, I’m not focused on the other, the prop, the trigger anymore. I am peaceful and present.

    This realization has served as a helpful reminder as I’ve moved through my life and felt the range of emotions that have come up. It’s never all about the other person; on some level, it’s about me. It serves me well to keep the focus on myself, what’s going on for me when the triggers come up, and what I can learn and process so that those triggers no longer live inside my body, mind, and soul.

    As we own and clear what is within us, the props in our spiritual drama fall away and we become lighter and can live more peacefully.

    May this serve you and may you be free.

  • 9 Lessons from my 9-Month-Old Nephew, Who’s Taught Me How to Live

    9 Lessons from my 9-Month-Old Nephew, Who’s Taught Me How to Live

    “The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” ~William Arthur Ward

    Oliver.

    Ahh, my heart skips a beat at just the sound of his name.

    In 2018, a tiny human being arrived on the planet, one who would change my life. In the short nine months my nephew Oliver has been in my life, I’ve learned a lot. I’m not talking about changing nappies and bottle-feeding, although I’m getting to grips with these essentials too. No, Oliver has taught me valuable lessons about life itself. Here are nine of the biggest.

    1. Love and be loved.

    Those who meet Oli can’t help but love him. He has big, beautiful, blue eyes and a smile that you can’t help but reciprocate.

    Although he’s beautiful on the outside, it’s his spirit I love most. He’s gentle, innocent, and curious. I see the good in him, and even though I know he’ll make mistakes as he grows up, I also know it won’t change my unconditional love for him.

    Loving Oli in this way has taught me to be more loving and less judgmental of others because I recognize that in every adult there’s an innocent child who’s just trying to do their best.

    This has also helped me better open up and receive love. I feel how deeply I want to help Oli, and how much it means to me when I can, which makes me more receptive when others want to help me.

    2. Make time to play.

    Oliver’s social schedule is impressive, better than most adults! He goes to birthday parties, visits family, has trips out, not to mention the numerous baby classes he attends. Regardless of where he is, whether it’s a class with friends or a rainy day spent at home, I can count on one thing—he’s playing!

    One morning, while watching Oli play, I asked myself, “Do I make enough time to play?” Adulting can be a serious matter at times, but that’s not to say we can’t pass time in a way that lights us up. Maybe I’m a little old to play with toy cars (or maybe not). Still, it’s important I make time for fun.

    So I now make time to play piano and watch movies instead of telling myself these things are unimportant, and I try to infuse a spirit of play into everything I do instead of taking it all so seriously.

    3. Praise ourselves.

    Recently, my sister taught Oli the song “If You’re Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands.” He’s always a little out of time, but he’s mastered clapping itself. It melts my heart to see him clapping away with his mini hands.

    I hope when he’s a little older, he’ll clap for himself after all his accomplishments and learn to praise himself for a job well done. Children are usually great at this. Sadly, when we become adults, we become more critical of ourselves, and words of praise become words of criticism. We become our own worst enemies, which makes it hard to ever feel happy, proud, or successful.

    I formed a habit at the end of last year, to praise myself for three achievements at the each of day. Big or small, it doesn’t matter. I simply praise myself. I’m a lot less critical of myself since starting this ritual—and a lot happier as a result!

    4. Give encouragement.

    “C’mon, you can do it.” This seems to be my catchphrase when I’m spending quality time with my nephew. He’s forever on the move, grabbing on to the side of the sofa and pulling himself up slowly.

    Rather than helping him directly, I sit back, smile, and encourage because I want to support his growth instead of just doing things for him. If my family are in the room, they’ll join in and it begins to feel like we’re a group of cheerleaders rooting for our favorite sports team.

    Oli loves encouragement. Don’t we all? Life can be challenging sometimes, and hearing someone say, “I believe in you” can help us push through when we’re tempted to give up.

    I now put more energy into encouraging my loved ones—and myself. Replacing my inner dialogue from negative, doubtful messages to pure encouragement has been life changing. Our thoughts determine our feelings, which influence our actions. For this reason, even a little self-encouragement can dramatically transform our lives.

    5. Express how you feel.

    Another important lesson Oliver has taught me, and taught me well, is to express how you feel. When Oli is hungry or tired you know about it! He doesn’t hold back. And he always gets his needs met as a result.

    For a long time when I was living with anxiety, I wore a mask and hid my real feelings, putting on a “brave face.” I was afraid of being judged and I falsely believed that “real men” shouldn’t show weakness or ask for help.

    I’ve gotten better at expressing how I feel, though there’s still room for improvement. As a result, I’m also better able to move past my challenges and get what I need.

    6. Be determined.

    One of Oliver’s cutest idiosyncrasies is his growl. He’s one determined little man, and his determined actions are always backed by a “GRRRR.” He’s advanced for his age, and I bet it’s because of his determination. If he fails the first time around, he tries again.

    As adults, we’re sometimes too quick to form conclusions about what’s possible and what we’re capable of doing. Babies don’t have this kind of internal monologue—they just keep going when they have a goal in their sights!

    Watching Oli has inspired me during recent challenges to really dig deep, get determined, and keep on going.

    7. Know when to rest.

    As playful and determined as he is, Oliver knows when it’s time for a nap.

    In the past I’ve been guilty of pushing too hard, working too long, and not resting enough. I sometimes think I’ll get more done if I work harder and longer—probably because I often heard growing up “You can be successful if you work hard.” But I’m actually more effective if I allow myself to stop working and rest when I’m tired, since I can then come back stronger and recharged later or the next day.

    I may not require as much sleep as a baby, but I do need to listen to when my mind and body is saying “enough.” It’s not about working harder, but smarter.

    8. Try new things.

    The last time I saw Oliver, my family and I took him to the English seaside for the first ever time. It was a cold and windy day, but we didn’t let the weather prevent us from having a great time. We walked for hours along the coastline, breathing in the salty sea air and listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

    Having a baby in the family is the perfect reason to go and experience all the world has to offer, to show them its wonders for the first time.

    As adults, our lives can get routine. We drive to work the same way, eat the same foods, and see the same people day to day. According to Tony Robbins, one of our six core needs is the need for uncertainty—or variety. Without new experiences, life starts to get boring.

    There’s so much joy to be had when we enter the realm of the new with a curious pair of eyes. Trying new things also helps us discover new things about ourselves—new interests or strengths, or traits we didn’t know we had.

    After this outing with my family, I made a list of new things I’d like to experience, from foods to devour to countries to explore. I may be far beyond Oil’s age, but we’re never too old to try new things.

    9. Live in the present.

    Perhaps the biggest lesson my nephew has taught me is to live in the present moment. He has no concept of time. The past and the future don’t exist in Oli’s world; he lives completely in and for the present, which ultimately, is the only time we can ever live in.

    Oliver hasn’t yet learned how to remember. He hasn’t learned how to worry. He is pure. Like we all were at one time. If he falls down, he forgets it quickly and goes right back to playing, completely connected to the joy of what he’s doing.

    It’s never too late, I believe, to return to living life in the present. Although over the years, thoughts may have pulled our focus like a tug of war rope, back and forth, between the past and future, we can always return to the now, right now.

  • 10 Things I Wish Someone Would Have Told Me When I Was 18

    10 Things I Wish Someone Would Have Told Me When I Was 18

    “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” ~Maya Angelou

    Can you remember what it was like?

    Becoming an adult. Having to take responsibility for your life. Having the world opening up to you. Having to suddenly start making decisions and setting a clear direction for your life.

    Exciting, yet terrifying and confusing all at the same time.

    Looking back, there are things you wish you’d known, right? Here are some things I’ve learned that I wish someone would have told me when I was eighteen.

    1. You don’t find meaning; you create meaning.

    For a long time, I was constantly looking for what I was “meant to do” in life. Doing so can feel overwhelming, confusing, and shame-indulging. But here’s what I discovered: Finding is passive; it means that something or someone has to show up in order to get what we want. It’s outside our control.

    So, instead of finding meaning, it’s better to create meaning. To indulge ourselves in projects and activities that feel meaningful to us. When we do this, we go from passive to active. From lacking control to gaining control.

    2. You’re not fixed; you’re always growing.

    I used to think that I was given a set of talents, skills, and behaviors. That was until I realized that I wasn’t wired fixed, but changeable.

    If I want to be happier, I just have to shift my focus. Maybe that means writing a gratitude journal, expressing my appreciation toward others, and practicing seeing things from a positive perspective.

    Since you’re always in growth, you don’t need to be scared of failing, as everything is a stepping stone to a new talent, skill, or behavior.

    The same applies for what we’re good at. If you want to be a writer, then start writing. If you want to be a successful entrepreneur, then start reading, acting, and thinking like one. That’s the beauty of it all—you’re the creator of you.

    3. Carefully choose who you take advice from.

    People love giving advice. But here’s the thing: People don’t give advice based on who you are, but on who they are. If someone had a great experience starting a business, they’re likely to encourage you to do the same. However, if someone had a horrible experience with the same thing, they’re likely to, perhaps not discourage you, but at least point out things that can go wrong.

    Here’s what I’ve found to be useful: Take advice only from those who have made the same journey (or a similar one) that you want to undertake.

    4. You don’t need to know your passion.

    “Follow your passion.” How many times have you heard this message and thought to yourself, “Argh, but I don’t know what my passion is!” Or, “I have too many passions and I don’t know which one to choose.” In general, I think this is rather crappy advice. For me, it caused more harm than good, because frankly, it stressed me out.

    If you know your passion, that’s great. If not, don’t worry. Instead of focusing your attention on finding your passion, start following your curiosity. Just like a scavenger hunt, what pokes your curiosity is the next clue. And like Elizabeth Gilbert perfectly laid it out: “If you can let go of ‘passion’ and follow your curiosity, your curiosity just might lead you to your passion.”

    5. Buy experiences, not things.

    I used to spend a lot of time thinking about what type of designer bag I’d purchase. Don’t get me wrong, I love beautiful things and have no problem buying them. But I’ve learned not to put my happiness in them.

    When I think back on my life, what I remember are the beach parties in the Dominican Republic, the soirées I spent with friends in Paris, and the walks with my sister in Central Park.

    Experiences are what change us. They help us open up doors to new people, cultures, perspectives, and potentially a whole new world. So, invest your money well.

    6. Life is always now, not tomorrow or next week.

    Oh gosh, if I had a nickel for every minute I’ve spent either worrying about the future or contemplating my past. It would probably make up more time than what I’ve spent in the present. Pretty bizarre, no? And I know I’m not alone when I say that.

    Our mind loves pulling our attention from the present moment. But this is where life is taking place.

    We can’t have a full experience when our body is in one place and our mind is somewhere else (like sitting in a meeting thinking about what to eat for dinner). And that’s why we’re here, right? To experience life fully. So be present, allow those thoughts about the past and future pass by, just like clouds in the sky.

    7. Don’t confuse means goals with end goals.

    Vishen Lakhiani did an amazing video where he explained what I didn’t get for so long: end goals and means goals.

    End goals define an outcome that describes exactly what you want. This can be seeing your children grow up, being truly happy, and traveling around the world. Means goals can be about getting into a specific university or company or making a certain amount of money. They are there simply to support your end goals.

    When I became uncomfortable in my “dream job” in Paris I couldn’t understand why. It included everything I’d ever dreamed of: a good paycheck, travel, and fun colleagues. But I had confused a means goal with an end goal. What I truly wanted was to start a business where I could create, contribute, and connect with other people.

    8. Connections, not grades, are the key to success.

    Growing up, I was really focused on getting good grades. I thought that good grades would be the key to a successful life. They’ve helped me to open up doors, but the game-changer hasn’t been my grades, it’s been my connections.

    Knowing the right people and connecting on a deeper lever is much more powerful than anything written on a piece of paper. Mind you, this, of course, depends on what kind of opportunity you’re after. But, for me, looking back, what served me during my years at university wasn’t the grades I got; it was the connections I made.

    That’s how I’ve landed jobs, speaking opportunities, and have been featured on podcasts–things I otherwise never would have heard of or been considered for.

    9. Everyone is doing the best they can.

    I truly believe this. Everyone, no matter how annoying, self-destructive, or provoking they might seem, is always doing the best they can based on their mood, experience, and level of consciousness.

    I used to get angry or upset if someone was rude, pessimistic, or didn’t deliver projects on time. Today, I know that I’m not in the position to judge. I don’t know what they battle. I don’t know what’s really going on in their life. All I can trust is that if I was in their shoes, I might do the same thing. This perspective has saved me a lot of energy that I previously used to waste.

    10. Know your “why.”

    Often, we place a lot of focus on what we do or how we do it. Seldom we ask why we do it. If I would have dug deeper in my “why’s” when I was eighteen, I would have connected more to my desires. Like this:

    Question: Why do I want to get this education?
    Reply: Because I want to get a good job.

    Question: Why do I want to get a good job?
    Reply: So that I can earn good money, work on something I enjoy, and get a nice title.

    Question: Why do I want that?
    Reply: Because I want to feel secure and free, to explore the world, to create things, to feel respected, and to connect with myself and others.”

    When I got clear about my “why” it became obvious to me that I wanted to work with people, have my own business, and to be able to work from anywhere in the world.

    Digging into the “why” really narrows down what’s important. Not having a clear “why” proves that what we’re aiming at isn’t worth pursuing.

    Eventually, Everything Will Make Sense

    Sometimes we stumble and fall. Sometimes the road is rocky. Sometimes we question if everything will make sense in the end.

    Looking back at your eighteen-year-old self, what would you tell them?

    To be easier on yourself?

    To stop worrying and have more fun?

    To trust that everything happens for a reason and that things will work out?

    From this perspective, what do you think an older version of yourself would have told you today?

    To be easier on yourself?

    To stop worrying and have more fun?

    To trust that everything happens for a reason and that things will work out?

    You get the point.

    As Steve Jobs said, “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something – your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”

  • How We Can Use Our Painful Emotions for Good

    How We Can Use Our Painful Emotions for Good

    Sad girl

    “The great gift of human beings is that we have the power of empathy.” ~Meryl Streep

    Growing up I spent a lot of time on the Internet browsing websites and looking at images. One image that stuck with me as a child showed an old man lying on a hospital bed, with tubes running into his mouth. In his hand, he held a “no smoking” sign.

    As I stared at that image I began to think what it must be like to face the horrible consequences of failing health. I imagined the pain, the regret, and the desperation for a second chance. He wouldn’t get a second chance, though.

    I lost myself in that moment, becoming the old man. Embodying his pain, regret, and his desire to warn others as a way to ease his pain. I learned through his experience, instead of my own, not to smoke.

    Deconstructing the Lesson

    By seeing the old man on his deathbed, we understand his mistake intellectually. However, through empathy, we can learn much more deeply. Through empathy, we create a painful association in our mind, much like classical conditioning, to a behavior.

    This experience led me to avoid cigarettes because I associate them with pain, regret, and desperation. The old man used his painful emotions for good: He gave others a chance to learn from his mistakes. Now, I want to share my story, so that others can learn from my mistakes.

    Painful Emotions

    In middle school, I dreaded gym class. Not because I hated exercise, but because having the entire class stare at me while I finished the run last was humiliating. Being overweight most my life, this was my reality.

    For me, being overweight made me feel that people didn’t want to be seen with me. For me, running was reserved for other people. Being overweight meant low self-esteem, low confidence, and shame; I hated it.

    Unlike the old man, I still had time to change.

    Each night after dinner, I would grab my mp3 player and go outside for a walk. The mp3 player had songs that stirred up my emotions and gave me motivation.

    Focusing on all the pain that comes with being overweight, I drove myself to change. I vividly imagined myself finishing last, over and over. I decided that would never happen ever again.

    Night after night, I walked and walked. Finally, I started to ride my bike, and slowly, I started to notice I was losing weight.

    Months later, on a walk home, I decided I was going to run back. Running in my free time was not typical for me, as you can imagine, but surprisingly, as I broke into a run, I felt stronger than I had ever before.

    The feeling of the air rushing by me was incredible. For the first time in my life, I associated running with pleasure. It felt like I was flying, so I put my arms out like an airplane and smiled.

    Deconstructing the Lesson

    A lot of people say exercise takes discipline, but I say it takes empathy. In my story I empathized with myself—my future self. I wanted a better quality of life for myself in the future.

    I wanted an escape from all the painful emotions of being overweight. I didn’t even know what it was like to feel the air rush by when running. Being in shape showed me that being overweight feels like you are cemented to the ground by comparison.

    The purpose of my story is to shed light on being overweight. If you are healthy, don’t take your health for granted; don’t go through what I went through.

    I enjoy this quote by Tony Robbins: “Success doesn’t just show up one day. Failure doesn’t just show up one day, it adds up from all the little things. Failure to make the call, failure to check the books, it’s failure to say I’m sorry. It’s failure to push yourself to do something. All those little failures add up and one day something cataclysmic shows up, and you blame that, but it’s because all the little stuff added up.”

    We don’t just run once and say, “Alright, I’m fit for life now!” Each day we make the little decisions that add up to our outcomes. I learned that lesson the hard way, but I used my painful emotions to bring positive change.

    Sharing Your Painful Experiences

    By sharing our stories, we give others a chance to learn from our mistakes instead of letting them learn the same way we did. Viktor Frankl is a great example of this kindness.

    In his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, Frankl chronicled his experiences as an Auschwitz concentration camp inmate during World War II. He describes how we all have freedom over our minds, and how we can leverage that freedom to decide the meaning of our experiences.

    Viktor decided that he would survive the concentration camp to make sure that something like this would never happen ever again. That decision to give his experience an empowering meaning gave him the willpower he needed to survive.

    Deconstructing the Lesson

    Sharing our painful stories with each other is not being weak; I believe it’s being strong and considerate. I believe that we should not be ashamed to be vulnerable and share our darkest times.

    We can choose to use empathy to learn from others and help them, and we can use our painful emotions to help others learn from our mistakes. Both approaches give painful emotions a new usefulness in our lives.

    For example, if we find ourselves grieving the loss of a loved one, a breakup, or other unfortunate event, we can decide the meaning of our experience, as Victor Frankl did.

    We can change the meaning of losing a loved one from loss, to discovering a new appreciation for all the loved ones we still have. Similarly, we can change the meaning of a break-up from disappointment, to new opportunities and insight.

    Just as I imagined the pain of being overweight to bring positive change, imagine the consequences of prolonged grief. If we don’t change the meaning of these tragedies, our life may begin to suffer.

    If we re-live the breakup over and over, we may decide to never open up again, for fear of another disappointment. Imagining the pain of living life that way can serve as the impetus for change.

    In the same way as I did, we can imagine the emotions our future self may feel if we don’t make a change.

    Through these events, we grow in our ability to control our emotions, and to help others who will inevitably face these same challenges.

    While we wouldn’t desire these emotions, nor seek them out, we can view them as learning experiences for ourselves, and others. In Man’s Search for Meaning, we learn that through our suffering we may discover our purpose in life.

    For Victor Frankl, his purpose is to share his story to ensure that nothing like that ever happened again. For me, I want to share my story to show that our painful emotions can be used for positive change.

  • 20 Life Lessons I Learned In My Twenties

    20 Life Lessons I Learned In My Twenties

    Osha Key
    Photo: Osha Key

    “The Universe is not outside of you. Look inside yourself; everything that you want, you are already that.” ~Rumi

    I remember when I was a kid, “thirty years old” sounded very old and mature. “Someone who is thirty clearly knows everything about life and has it all figured out.” That was my assumption.

    Life taught me that not only thirty-year olds, but most people in general have no clue what they’re doing with their lives and why they’re here.

    Although I’m far away from knowing all the answers to life’s biggest questions, I feel like my twenties have been such a learning curve.

    I lived in eight different countries, changed careers, started my own business, transformed my body several times, met my soul mate, overcame major challenges, and it feels like I’ve become a completely different person.

    I recently turned thirty and it made me reflect on the last decade. Although it often seems like life doesn’t change much and every day is the same as the last, when I look back at my life it feels like I’ve traveled to a parallel universe.

    I’d love to share the life lessons I learned in my twenties.

    1. How other people judge us is none of our business. We won’t please everyone anyway.

    I spent my teen years and early twenties worrying about what other people thought and said about me. But later in life I realized that it could only affect me if I allowed it to.

    What other people say or think of us is a reflection of them—their values, expectations, insecurities, and standards—and has nothing or very little to do with us.

    People who are wise and/or know who we truly are will not judge us, as they see and know our essence. And those who don’t, we can’t control their thoughts and actions.

    2. Admitting mistakes and apologizing is a sign of strength, not weakness.

    I used to think that apologizing was a sign of weakness and used to play cool and ignore my mistakes. But now I think that the sign of weakness is being full of yourself, having a huge ego, and trying to pretend to be right, no matter what.

    When I noticed how much I respect people who admit they are wrong and apologize, I embraced this behavior myself. It feels liberating.

    3. No one is perfect; we’re all works in progress.

    People might seem like they have their lives together and live perfectly, especially if you judge them by their Instagram pictures. However, when you get to know people more intimately and they open up, you see that even the most successful and seemingly perfect people have insecurities and problems. Some of them have even more than you could ever imagine.

    My life, too, may seem perfect on the outside: I love what I do, travel a lot, live in the tropics, and have an amazing partner. But I still have plenty of challenges and ups and downs in my life—you just won’t find about them on my Instagram account.

    4. Living according to our values and truth is the most satisfying thing in life.

    Determining my main values in life (which are currently health, freedom, connection, and contribution) has put me on a journey to growth. It’s given me clarity and strength to make difficult decisions, like moving countries, ending relationships, and changing careers.

    No matter what you do, if you let your values and truth guide your decisions, it will turn out well, even though at times making these decisions might feel scary and make you feel vulnerable.

    5. Money is just a form of energy.

    I went through periods when I put too much importance on money, as well as times when I criticized money as not being spiritual. It turns out money is just a tool that enables us to do certain things, and it can even help us grow spiritually if we face our patterns or limiting beliefs.

    At the end of the day, money is just a form of energy. The more energy and value you give, the more it comes back (although there’s often a time gap between giving and getting).

    6. We’re not stuck in our reality, our identity, or our story.

    Our sense of self, or identity, is a conceptual fabrication. It’s nothing more than a summation of what everybody else—our parents, teachers, mentors, friends, and society—told us we were, and we accepted as truth.

    We can change instantly if we choose to, although most people unconsciously choose not to. The only thing that keeps us stuck is our own mind. Investing time and effort in mind training, aka meditation, has been one of the most valuable things I’ve done in my life.

    7. Outside circumstances are usually a reflection of our inside.

    Negativity could never affect us unless there was negativity inside of us in the first place.

    Anything that triggers us is a gift, as it points out the areas that we haven’t dealt with or things that are unhealed.

    8. Health is more important than appearances.

    I want to be in great shape because being healthy and fit improves the quality of my life, not because I need to look hot to impress others.

    Although I tried to convince myself that I shouldn’t care about what other people think of me, I still cared a lot—until I learned how to love myself and realized that all I ever needed was a genuine acceptance and appreciation from myself, not others.

    Once we know who we are and are confident about it, external approval becomes less and less important.

    9. Forgiveness is the key to freedom.

    We’re all going through life and doing the best we can with the resources and knowledge that we have at any given time. Let go of anger and grudges, and forgive others and yourself for being an imperfect human.

    10. I’m biased (and so are you) and I know it (and so should you).

    We’re all biased, and realizing that our perspective is neither better nor worse than someone else’s has been both scary and liberating. Letting go of the need to be right and understood has accelerated my growth and allowed me to see the world from many different perspectives.

    11. Loving-kindness moves mountains.

    Whenever I walk with loving-kindness, in my heart, the whole world smiles at me. I mean it literally, not just metaphorically.

    If the world seems like a sad, scary, or unfair place, practice loving-kindness and compassion, and you’ll see from a different perspective.

    12. Listening to our heart, even if it looks ridiculous from a logical perspective, will never fail us.

    All my best decisions in life didn’t make sense. From the outside perspective, I looked like a mad person when I made some of my choices. But there was this inner voice saying, “Even if you don’t know how exactly it’s going to turn out, all is going to be okay.”

    We all have this inner voice; we just need to remove the distractions that hinder us from hearing it, and most importantly, find the courage to listen to it and act on it.

    13. Plans are for adjusting.

    Nothing has ever turned out exactly how I planned. But I believe life always gives us what we ask for. It might not be in the exact form we ask for, though. If you ask for patience, you’ll get a queue in a bank. Life will give you people, opportunities, and circumstances to learn what you need to learn the most.

    14. If we want our relationships to succeed, we have to leave our ego behind.

    Relationships challenge us and facilitate growth. My romantic relationship taught me that trying to be right or holding your pride just doesn’t work if you want it to succeed.

    You have to see a relationship as one ship. If you try to fight and argue and win the “battle,” you’re trying to sink the ship you’re on, so it’s best to see the common goal and common good. This was very challenging in my early twenties but probably the best lesson I’ve learned in life.

    15. Connections are the key to happiness.

    We’re social beings and we long for connection.

    No matter how many cool and amazing things you have going on in your life, if you don’t have people to share it with, you won’t be as happy.

    Surround yourself with people who make you feel your best and recognize who you truly are.

    16. Comparing ourselves to others is the fastest way to feel anxious and unfulfilled.

    It takes practice and self-love to be able to celebrate others’ success, especially when things are not going the way you want to in your own life. But understanding that we’re all on our own journeys has helped me stop comparing myself to others and instead be inspired by others’ journeys and success.

    17. Learning and investing in our skills is the best strategy for future success.

    Physical things, money, even people in our life come and go. The knowledge and skills we’ve acquired is what we carry with us.

    18. Don’t take things personally.

    We suffer when we identify with things, people, circumstances, situations, job titles, and relationship statuses. Embracing the attitude that nothing belongs to us and “all just is” has been very liberating and has brought ease and joy to my life.

    19. Other people don’t always want our help.

    We have to stop forcing our beliefs or trying to help if our help is not welcome.

    I made this mistake way too many times in my early twenties. I was always passionate about helping people, but it took some time and bad experiences to realize that if someone’s not ready for your help, they will not accept it, and you might even do damage rather than service.

    20. Building healthy habits will pay off one hundredfold.

    When I was twenty, I used to smoke, drink alcohol, consume excess caffeine, and eat foods that were unhealthy for my body. And I was fine for a while. When you’re that young, your body can handle anything. But later your body starts tolerating these habits less and less, plus they add stress and your body starts to break down.

    Becoming healthy and changing my lifestyle has been one of the best things I’ve done in life. It gives me so much energy and I feel amazing every single day, thanks to a healthy lifestyle I lead.

    Chances are that on my fortieth birthday I’ll look at these lessons from my twenties and think that I had no clue about life whatsoever. That’s okay. The only constant is change, and humans are consistently inconsistent. I’m can’t wait to see what my thirties will teach me and what kind of person I’ll to become.

  • 10 Rules for Being Human

    10 Rules for Being Human

    10 Rules for Being Human

  • Words to Live By

    Words to Live By

    Words to Live By

  • You Don’t Need a Guru; Life is Your Greatest Teacher

    You Don’t Need a Guru; Life is Your Greatest Teacher

    Monk

    “Forget what hurt you, but never forget what taught you.” ~Unknown

    I read a tribute Elizabeth Gilbert wrote for Richard from Texas who features in her book Eat, Pray, Love. It got me thinking that our teachers in life can take many forms and not always an obvious ‘traditional’ teacher.

    In Eat, Pray, Love Liz went looking for a guru in India but learned a whole host of lessons from Richard, who was probably there seeking out the same guru for his own answers.

    We can go through life looking for gurus, trying to learn from the experts, and seeking out those who seemingly have the answers to our questions, but what we often overlook is that the answers are there all along.

    We don’t find the answers when we find the guru; we find them along the way, as part of our journey.

    Sometimes a guru may help us uncover the answers within, but there is also so much more that those we meet and our experiences along the way can teach us about life’s journey.

    The lessons can come from our kids, our partners, our friends, our enemies, and most of all from ourselves.

    We can be our own teachers if we allow ourselves to learn from our mistakes.

    A monk once told me there are no mistakes, only lessons, and we are a product of the lessons we’ve learned. As Thich Nhat Hanh says, “Without the mud there can be no lotus.”

    We grow stronger from our challenges; we learn or to grow from these experiences, and this is what makes us who we are.

    I’ve traveled around the world to various retreat centers, sat on many hill tops, and consulted a few gurus, but the answers I sought I found within me when I arrived home, stopped searching, and sat still long enough to notice them.

    This led me to rebuild my life around my passion and fill it with meaning and purpose. I became a yoga teacher and was thrilled to be doing a job I loved, but in the early days I struggled. Marketing was not my strong point and the numbers for my classes were low, sometimes non existent.

    As I sat in an empty room one night with my lesson plan, feeling defeated, I thought to myself, “What can I learn from this?”

    I try to ask myself this question often, but especially when times get tough. Life is not always easy. Things sometimes don’t go to plan, and often we don’t succeed until we’ve learned a lesson and tried again, failed more, failed better.

    I have learned valuable lessons from people who’ve come in and out of my life (often for only fleeting encounters). I’ve learned both from failed relationships and those that have evolved over different parts of my life to be stronger now than they ever were.

    A friend’s betrayal taught me about forgiveness. A friend’s love has taught me about trust. My nephew taught me the importance of making time for play, and my pets taught me the power of unconditional love.

    Depression taught me that it’s through the cracks the light gets in, and burnout taught me about my real priorities and the value of self-care. A house fire taught me about attachment, and a homeless man taught me to be grateful for the little things I have.

    Success is a product of learning from experiences and failures—a product of our life, our experiences, and the people we meet along the way. This is the stuff that shapes us and builds our world, it comes from within, not from an expert or a guru.

    Yes, we have formal teachers we can learn from—our parents, our schools, our gurus, those we aspire to and admire. But never underestimate the power of the lessons ‘ordinary’ people will teach us, the likes of Richard from Texas and indeed the lessons we learn from ourselves and our experiences as we navigate through life.

    So take a moment and ask yourself what you can learn from your current circumstances and the people in your life. Whatever, or whoever, you’re struggling with could very well be your greatest teacher—and a stepping stone to greater peace, purpose, and happiness.

    Monk image via Shutterstock

  • 7 Things Everyone Should Learn Before They Die

    7 Things Everyone Should Learn Before They Die

    Woman reading book

    “I would rather die of passion than of boredom.” ~Vincent Van Gogh

    I attended an interesting event a few nights ago. It featured ten speakers who spoke for ten minutes each on ten things you should know before you die.

    The speakers included TV and film stars, CEOs, cover-shooting photojournalists, traveling journalists covering natural disasters, and HIV survivors. As you can imagine, there was a wide spectrum of perspectives shared.

    Here are a few of the lessons that stuck out for me. A lot of these can profoundly change your mindset, how you view the world, and how you choose to react to things. You just need to take a step back and put things into perspective, which leads us into our first one.

    1. Maintain perspective.

    A journalist told a story of how he traveled to Haiti after the devastating earthquake that hit them a few years back. In the capital of Port-au-Prince many of the homes had fallen apart, and people who already had nothing were now living in small plots of land in public squares in the city.

    The separations between each family’s plot were drawn in by hand, with tents and tarps set up overhead.
    In one particular plot was for a seven-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy.

    The speaker spoke a bit of Creole French and asked the people in neighboring tents which family these children were with. They replied, “That is the family.”

    The seven-year-old girl and one-year-old boy’s parents and older siblings had been killed. She was now responsible for this baby.

    This is where the notion of perspective comes in. The next time you’re upset at traffic, or someone is taking too long in the checkout line, or someone hasn’t texted you back quickly enough, take a step back and ask yourself, in the grand scheme of things, is this really worth being upset about?

    The book Unbroken drove this point home for me. Reading what this man went through quickly made me realize, if I were privileged to be born into a first world country (Canada) in the current peaceful time, I have absolutely nothing to complain about. A reminder to myself the next time Netflix is slow to load something…

    2. Take care of your health.

    Health is the gateway to happiness. If you are not living with your fullest energy and vibrancy, how can you expect to get the most from life?

    This was the main message from a middle-aged woman and entrepreneur who broke the status quo and went her own way in life, much to the dismay of her parents. She dropped out of school and traveled the world, falling into a few rough crowds on the journey and eventually settling in Toronto.

    There, she visited a local fresh juice place that ended up changing her life. She fell in love with how the juices made her feel and the energy they gave her, and ended up opening her own juice place called “Juice for Life” (which her Jewish parents hilariously thought was called “Jews for Life” at first). She’s now the founder and CEO of Fresh Restaurants chain in Toronto.

    Anyone who knows me knows health is massively important to me as well. I always pose the question: Is it not a bit crazy to think that people will spend more money on their car, their fashion, and accessories than they would on their body?

    Ask anyone with a serious illness what would they rather have; they all would give up everything they own to get healthy and undo the damage that was done.

    3. Be true to yourself and your calling.

    If you are living and doing something that doesn’t align with you, how can you ever be truly happy and enlightened?

    This was the main message from the founder of Yuk Yuk’s comedy club, a popular spot in Toronto.

    You can imagine the reaction he got from his friends and family when he told them he wanted to enter the comedy business. This was his passion, however, and he knew from experience that if he was doing something different, he would rarely be at peace or be inspired.

    When you find something that aligns and resonates with you, you will know it from the energy it gives you.

    The Vincent Van Gogh quotes sums the message here up quite nicely: Would you rather die of passion or of boredom?

    4. Don’t be afraid to stand out.

    When you go your own way and make your own path, you alone write your legacy.

    This was the motto of a female photojournalist who spoke to us. She joined the world of journalism in the sixties and seventies, when it was completely dominated by men. She was different from what was considered the norm and despite ridicule, sexist remarks, and being seen as lower, she used it to her advantage.

    Being shorter than the male photographers, she was always in front of the pack, allowing her to capture some of the closest, most personal photos. She became one of the first females to have their photos published on the cover of multiple well know magazines, and went on to be the prime journalist covering Terry Fox’s run across Canada.

    It is your inherent right to challenge the status quo. Never be afraid to forge your own destiny due to the thoughts of others. People may laugh at you because you are different. You could pack up and quit here, or you could feel sorry for them because they are all the same.

    As well, never be afraid to challenge why things are the way they are. After all, this is the very question that has forged almost all innovation mankind has ever done.

    5. Don’t play the victim.

    As I mentioned earlier, one of the speakers was a girl born with HIV. She was abandoned by her parents and adopted by a supporting family with nine other adopted children.

    Her new family took her in with love and put her through school like a normal child. But when the other children’s parents found out she had HIV, it was no longer normal. They refused to invite her over to birthday parties and sleepovers and forbade their children from being friends with her.

    She could have closed up and felt angry at the world, but instead she took a position of power and action. Now in her late teens, she has spoken globally, on major TV networks and YouTube, to educate the world on HIV and how ridiculous it is to “ban” your kids from socializing with someone who has it.

    Many people constantly place blame on everything and everyone and make themselves a victim. Why did this happen to me? Why can’t I make more money? Why am I stuck at this job?

    The world doesn’t owe you anything; you were not born a victim. Yet when you look around how many people do you find complaining about their situation but not taking any action or effort to improve it?

    The world gives you so much to work with if you work with it and put in the effort.

    6. Re-direct your energy.

    An actress told her story of failed audition after failed audition while witnessing other people’s success. She knew she could have gotten caught in the negative energy of envy and blame—upset that others were getting roles, getting paid more, or traveling more.

    She didn’t go this way, though; she knew envy can be channeled into focus and motivation.

    The lesson in here is quite simple. Instead of wasting energy being angry, envious, or jealous of those with more success, redirect that energy and ask, “What can I learn from this person to improve my own life?”

    As a result of doing this, she re-auditioned for a part she hadn’t received and was so motivated she ended up blowing them away and getting the role on the spot.

    7. Give your attention.

    One of the speakers began his talk with a severe stutter. The energetic crowd grew quiet, not knowing how to react. He then switched to a more fluent voice and told the audience he suffered with this stutter for the first twenty years of his life.

    When he was a young teen, he worked at one of Vidal Sassoon’s salons, doing odd behind the scenes jobs where he didn’t need to speak, like sweeping and tidying up after customers. Most people didn’t give him the time of day or would mock his difficulty in speaking.

    One day it was announced that Vidal Sassoon himself, the CEO, was coming to visit their Salon. Vidal made a point to meet with everyone, from the highest manager to the ones attending to the cut hair on the floor.

    When he approached the young boy, he asked what his name was. The boy tried to respond but was too nervous, and his stutter was so severe that he just could not get his name out. Vidal smiled, crouched down in front of him, and said “It’s okay, son, I have all the time in the world.”

    The greatest gift you can give someone is your attention. Never allow yourself to get in the mindset that people are “below you,” because even the smallest conversation can make someone’s day. People will forget many things, but they will always remember how others made them feel.

    —

    Imagine a world where everyone learned the lessons above from a young age. It’s possible, but starts with each of us.

    Woman reading image via Shutterstock

  • How to Make Life’s Challenges Count for Something Good

    How to Make Life’s Challenges Count for Something Good

    No Regrets

    “Life shrinks and expands in proportion to one’s courage.” ~Anais Nin

    Many people have told me that I am a brave person. Mostly though, I think I just play the cards I’m dealt.

    When I was twenty-one years old, I had a stroke. In a single moment, everything I had ever taken for granted about my health and about my youth flew right out the window. I felt truly vulnerable for the first time in my young life and it scared the bejesus out of me.

    Following a full recovery, that fear quickly turned into intense bitterness and anger that stayed with me for months afterward. I felt an incessant need to regain control of even the smallest and most inconsequential things in my life, almost as if to prove to myself I was still there.

    I was miserable and I made everyone else in my life who cared about me miserable with me. It was a rough time.

    By hook or by crook, though, I finally realized that constantly punishing myself and those around me wouldn’t change the fact that my body had failed or that the failure had left deep scars. The only thing I could change was me, in the face of it all.

    My stroke had affected me negatively, I knew that. A year after it happened, I decided that I needed to make it count for something positive too. I needed to learn something good from it all. Otherwise, what was the point?

    So I did.

    I learned that life is full of things I can’t control and that believe it or not, this is okay.

    I learned that “bad things” don’t “only happen to bad people.”

    I learned to accept help when I need it and not to isolate myself in pain.

    I learned to genuinely respect and empathize with the personal struggles of others.

    I learned to never to give up on myself.

    I carried these lessons with me through my twenties, all the while aware of how much bigger of a person I felt I had become as a result of them. I ended up carrying them all the way to the infertility clinic eight years later.

    If you don’t know, infertility and miscarriage are awful. Together, they are crippling.

    You have no idea how many times my hands cradled my head in despair as I leaned against bathroom countertops, physician’s desks, exam tables, the steering wheel of my car, pre-op room gurneys. I barely have an idea. It was too many to count, too many to even remember.

    My stellar husband, David, and I just wanted a family. We couldn’t fathom why it was all so hard.

    In the span of six years, he and I supported one another through three intrauterine inseminations, two in-vitro fertilization cycles, two frozen embryo transfer cycles, four pregnancies, and three miscarriages. It was a long, difficult journey.

    However, one very special little one, our daughter Molly, made it into the world and into our arms. We were amazed and overjoyed at her safe arrival then and are so grateful now for all the love and joy she has brought to our family ever since.

    Our second child, Molly’s future baby brother or sister, is out there somewhere too. But he/she won’t be joining our family through the same means that we were gifted Molly. We are most definitely done with fertility treatments.

    David and I have chosen Open Adoption to complete our family and we couldn’t be more excited.

    We have yet to find the birth parent(s) with whom we will share our family and whose incredible child we will love and cherish with our whole hearts. But already, the tenderness and gratitude we feel in anticipation of this little one and his/her birth family is limitless and has no bounds.

    Our experience of infertility and miscarriage was devastatingly difficult, but it was also good. I made it count. Again. We achieved Molly and discovered the beauty of Open Adoption. I also learned. A lot.

    I’ve learned to be honest with myself. Always.

    I’ve learned to honor the desires of my heart with no apology.

    I’ve learned how empowered I feel when I take care of myself.

    I’ve learned to make space in my life for my direction to change in ways I can’t anticipate.

    And last, but not least, I’ve learned that the best things in life are worth waiting for.

    I am a better person for all I’ve learned. I definitely know it’s made me a better mom, a more patient mom, a more connected mom. I will always be grateful for that.

    We’ve all been through a lot, no doubt about it. But it’s what we do with our feelings and challenges that define us, not the experiences themselves.

    I encourage you to find some time today or tomorrow when you can be completely alone with your thoughts. It can be while taking a walk or a run, lying in bed at night right before sleep, or sitting somewhere beautiful that deeply resonates with you. It doesn’t matter.

    Look at your hands in front of you. Imagine that they gently hold each of the problems you are faced with, the worries, and the fears of the day. Accept them.

    Then ask yourself:

    Has this experience taught me anything about what makes me a strong person?

    Has it taught me anything about my weak spots and how I can make them stronger?

    Have I learned anything new about what I want or need to be happy and fulfilled?

    Have I learned anything valuable about the people in my life and how I can make those relationships better?

    Did I learn anything about life that will help and inspire me going forward?

    How can I begin to apply these lessons starting now?

    How can I help others with the lessons I’ve learned?

    Dare to be honest with yourself. You’ll be amazed at what you come up with.

    No regrets image via Shutterstock