Tiny Buddha

Tag: meaning

  • Why We Need to Be Present to Enjoy Our Lives, Not Just Productive

    Why We Need to Be Present to Enjoy Our Lives, Not Just Productive

    “Presence is far more intricate and rewarding an art than productivity. Ours is a culture that measures our worth as human beings by our efficiency, our earnings, our ability to perform this or that. The cult of productivity has its place, but worshipping at its altar daily robs us of the very capacity for joy and wonder that makes life worth living.” ~Maria Popova

    I was high on productivity. I had one full-time job, two part-time jobs, and a side hustle. I was getting everything done. Sounds perfect, right?

    Then I started hating my life.

    I had read enough books and articles to tell me how I was not doing enough. Enough self-help gurus had told me that what I needed to do was max out every single hour I had to be minutely close to being “successful.”

    My co-workers often got intimidated by my jam-packed calendar. I don’t exaggerate when I say that every minute of my life was scheduled. Sheldon-level scheduled, with dedicated “bathroom breaks” and everything.

    I ran three to-do lists: daily, weekly, monthly. This was my way of setting out for maximum efficiency. I said “yes” to my boss so often I had become his favorite. Work-life balance, what’s that?

    Tasks were flying off my list like never before—so many horizontal breakthroughs! I wore this as my badge of honor for a while, this art of getting it all done. And why not? I was rewarded for it in money, praise, promotions, awe.

    But then it didn’t feel so great. Instead, I became downright miserable.

    Why Busyness-Productivity Is A Mirage

    I don’t claim that productivity is bad. Doing fulfilling work by minimizing distractions and getting deep focus is truly rewarding.

    But it is crucial to stop and question why you’re doing what you’re doing. It is necessary to pause and reflect on the value of your tasks and actions. Otherwise, productivity translates to useless busyness.

    When I became this productivity freak, I never stopped to ask if any of the things I was doing were giving my life meaning. I was doing a demanding full-time job that didn’t provide me any purpose. My days became a blur of mindless task completions. My mind, heart, and soul were absent from my work. Any given Monday didn’t look so different from a Tuesday three weeks prior.

    And it wasn’t even like I was happy.

    I was meeting all my deadlines, but I was spending no time with my family. There were enough accolades to prove all my achievements but not enough art to fulfill my soul. I answered every email I received within twenty-four hours, but I hardly focused on long-term self-growth.

    On the outside, my life never looked better. But on the inside, I was worse than I had ever been. Distraction, schedules, irritability, and deadlines were the monsters that ruled my life.

    After a month-long burnout, I hit the problem nail in the head. I knew I needed to move on. But how? I resolved to take a calculated leap of faith. I found a client willing to pay me for my freelancing services for at least two to three months and made a thick emergency fund by cutting out on expenses. Then, I quit the unfulfilling full-time job and gave my heart to work that I truly found meaning in. I stopped making productivity my goal. I opted to choose presence instead.

    Presence > Productivity

    I read Annie Dillard’s, The Writing Life, in which she memorably wrote, “how we spend our days, is of course, how we spend our lives.”

    After reading this book, I realized that productivity would only be fruitful when coupled with presence. I knew then that presence was what would make my rewards meaningful.

    What is presence? Presence is the art of being in the moment, the luxury of pausing, the virtue of stillness. It is being alert, aware, and alive to this moment.

    There’s a reason why our culture runs for productivity instead of presence. Productivity helps us shut away from reality. It keeps us “busy” into a future that is yet to manifest.

    It is so much easier and convenient to take the shield of productivity against the beautiful, buoyant, and sometimes disruptively painful present.

    Performing one task after next gives us an excuse to not fully live, not completely concentrate, not unbiasedly accept.

    I used to be that way—trying to avoid the truth that I was not finding my work meaningful. I wouldn’t accept that this job was emptying me slowly, living in denial of a reality I was living. Was I not getting things done? I was, more than ever before. But was I happy? I had never been more unhappy with my own choices.

    Being productive every minute of every day meant I could avoid the fact that many of my friendships were depleting, toxic, and unhealthy. I was lying to myself that it was all to have a good social life. In reality, I would go out of my way to avoid being alone, to avoid answering the big questions pertaining to my life that can only be answered in solitude.

    But coupling our actions with productivity and presence can have an astounding effect on our lives. It can make every task we do driven with intention, purpose, and meaning. Presence is what helps us reap the internal rewards that come with doing fulfilling work.

    Choosing Presence

    If you are anything like me, choosing presence over productivity can take some practice. Productivity was my normal mode of operation. It was easy; it came naturally. But opting for presence in my actions wasn’t so simple.

    The art of being present and intentional in all my tasks was like writing with my non-dominant left hand. I searched for help and stumbled upon Tim Ferris. He often says to think of your epitaph to cut through all the noise and maze of productivity. It is a way to find out what truly matters to you by getting a super-zoomed out version of your life.

    As morbid as it sounds, that is what I did. I imagined what I would like to carve on my epitaph, and the important stuff came into a laser-sharp focus:

    I needed to write. I needed to make time for solitude, for serendipity, for hobbies. I wanted to create more memories with my family. I wanted to let go of draining friendships and put all my energy into relationships that filled me with fulfillment, meaning, and growth. Taking it one step at a time, I decided to hand in my resignation. I landed my first writing gig in under two weeks.

    And hey, it’s not like I don’t struggle to write with my left hand anymore. But I am growing each day. It takes some practice and effort to make room in your calendar to “be present.” I am learning to be uncomfortable by turning the volume down of “getting things done.”

    I have noticed that it is the minor changes that count. It is taking a little more time to craft that email mindfully. It is that courageous “no” to a project that can help you surpass your quarterly KPIs but take away from your family time. It is choosing to take a soothing fifteen-minute walk break over checking off another mindless to-do list task.

    Presence is a process. It requires the discipline to focus on the present moment when productivity pushes you to see a non-existent future. Presence is your un-busy existence of utterly unadulterated joy. It is your creativity’s cradle. It is your time to just be.

    So do it. Make the hard choice. Live your life with presence to help you find joy in the now instead of pushing toward some destination in the future. None of us really know where the future will bring us, but we can all choose to enjoy the scenery along the way.

  • How I Live My Life Purpose Without Doing Anything Big

    How I Live My Life Purpose Without Doing Anything Big

    “You know how every once in a while you do something and the little voice inside says, ‘There. That’s it. That’s why you’re here’ …and you get a warm glow in your heart because you know it’s true? Do more of that.” ~Jacob Nordby

    Mornings running the busy roads with the echo of what this one or that one said, lying in my bed in the middle of sunlit days staring at a bamboo plant on my dresser, seasonal jobs, getting all dressed up for waste-of-time employment fairs, scribbling in my notebook when my spirit demanded I fight back—at the rejection letters, at the no responses, at the feeling that I simply wasn’t good enough—this is what a lot of my twenties was made up of, but that’s not all.

    I had moments in those seasonal jobs that lit my unique spirit and showed me exactly what I loved and cared about.

    In everything I took action on there were hints of a young woman crying out: “This is a puzzle piece of who you are right here. This is important. Take notice!”

    The rejection letters led to setting myself free through concerts, unforgettable trips, and quality time with those closest to me, and they gave me more writing inspiration.

    The time alone, not feeling that I fit in with any of my peers and that my life wasn’t progressing along the traditional trajectory I was witnessing, pushed me to dive into my emotions and think about what I truly value.

    I wrote it all down. It turns out that all the tears and isolated fears pushed me into creating stories and poetry that are all about love and are essentially a quest to understand and care for each other more.

    In spending so much time alone with my feelings and knowing deep down that there must be others who feel this way too, I developed an even more empathetic nature that caused me to want to reach out to others more than ever before.

    But it took me a while to focus less on the destination and recognize the value in the journey.

    The moment I graduated I felt this compulsion and desire, which I believe stemmed from my past imprinted insecurities, to define myself immediately. I needed to figure out right away who I was going to be, lock it all in.

    No one tells you when you’re setting out on your life that no one’s story works that way.

    I thought life would just tick along like checking off items on a to-do list, especially through witnessing the social media highlight reel of my peers. I didn’t make the connection that it was, in fact, their highlights.

    I only saw a part of the character in these peers of mine, and honestly, who would tune into that show? Who would want to see a perfect life played out day after day with no one being challenged to see how they rise to the occasion and come out an even more beautiful form of their unique self?

    I had watched so many soap operas and TV dramas by that time, and yet, I did not understand that this was clearly not the full picture, just as I was only showing my highlight reel. I wasn’t going around telling everyone about the pain and loneliness I felt. I wasn’t posting about the dozens of rejections I had received.

    Maybe if we did post all of these things we would be more mentally at peace, but at the same time, I think that would also cause us to stagnate as we communicated all our troubles and injustices constantly.

    What we want isn’t always what is best for us. If we were able to be so open, I don’t believe we would be propelled into action through having to sit in those feelings and figure out how we’re personally going to step up and out of a situation to create our own unique story.

    I basically played the victim many times when I would see what I thought was my peers so effortlessly checking off milestones on their personal to-do lists. So, what did I do?

    In some indignant notion that I would be missed, I went on and off Facebook more times than I could ever count, thinking when I came back on, things would be different, and I would be validated when joining my community once again. That’s not what I received, and that’s not what I truly needed.

    I believe this loneliness and question of ones’ life purpose can come at any time. This just happened to occur for me in my twenties, and I’m glad I’m beginning to understand why I felt all that I did.

    I believe we are all unique. None of us are replaceable, and we all have the capacity to fulfill many purposes in our lifetimes, through different stages, as our priorities, interests, and values change.

    I am a very different person than the confused young woman of my twenties because I no longer search for my purpose, as if it’s this one big thing I need to figure out. Instead, I follow what I love and fixate on all the good I have in my life.

    I constantly focus in on all that I am grateful for. I keep a record of my achievements. I read my favorite books over and over again. I watch my favorite TV shows, which are still teen dramas, I must confess. I look at art and listen to music that ignites my spirit.

    When I’m feeling stuck, movement is key, whether it’s running or doing household chores.

    I know that I am following my purpose as long as my heart feels that I am being true to myself.

    I still get insecure. I don’t think that will ever go away, and maybe it’s one of those things you don’t want that is in fact good for you. Without my insecurities, I wouldn’t have to keep reaffirming what I am passionate about, and without reaffirming, there’s a chance I could lose myself.

    I found through searching for my purpose in what I refer to as my “crossroads period” in my twenties that it’s not one thing to be achieved, one path to be fulfilled. My purpose is a continuous journey of loving those closest to me and deeply following what my heart tells me.

    I believe in the search for my purpose I was also able to identify the kind of people I want on my team, the kind of people I want in my life. These people are few and rare but as true as can be.

    I know that the overriding purpose of everyone’s life is to discover your people and keep them close. They will be your guideposts and your encouragement to fulfill the passionate enormity your life is meant to embody.

    This family of mine is what keeps me moving forward and holding the belief that I am living a life of purpose simply by loving and being loved by them, regardless of what else I do with the time I’ve been given.

  • The Joy and Power of Realizing I Am More Than My Job

    The Joy and Power of Realizing I Am More Than My Job

    “Authenticity is a collection of choices that we have to make every day. It’s about the choice to show up and be real. The choice to be honest. The choice to let our true selves be seen.” ~Brené Brown

    “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

    “It’s so nice to meet you. What do you do?”

    These are the questions we are asked our entire life. When we’re children, everyone always asks about the future. They excitedly ask, “What will you do?” The subtext of this questions is:

    “How will you be productive in society? How will you contribute?”

    Being asked those questions all the time as children turned us into the adults that ask them. We are in the same cycle and do not seem to know to ask instead, “Who are you?”

    For a long time, my focus and self-identity was tied up in what I did. I would tell people, “I am a filmmaker.” When I was young, I knew I wanted to make films. I loved to tell stories. “I want to be a movie director!”

    When I grew up and actually got jobs in Hollywood, I realized that most people are not movie directors. Most people are not even filmmakers. They work in film. It takes many people to make one, but only a handful of people get any recognition or able to consider themselves filmmakers.

    “What do you do?” people would ask. I would struggle to figure out how to explain that I was a production assistant who worked on films. I was basically a glorified secretary, a personal assistant. But I was not a filmmaker.

    I worked on other filmmaker’s films. I personally had not made any art or films for over six years. I was so busy and tired of trying to work in the industry I wanted to work in that I forgot about myself.

    When I could no longer define myself as a filmmaker, I became disillusioned. If I wasn’t one, then what was I? People always got excited when I said I worked on movies. Their eyes would light up, and they would pester me with questions about the famous people I knew or inside secrets.

    They never wanted to know how much sleep I missed or how many friends and family events I sacrificed for the bragging rights of Hollywood. They didn’t want to know what excited me about life or who I was. They only wanted to know “what I did.”

    This discontentment grew. I became angrier and angrier at the film industry as a whole. I felt used. Worthless. The world was nothing but egos and money. I would never be them unless I sold myself and played their game.

    I wasn’t willing to play the game, find the back doors, penny pinch, or be downright cruel. I was beginning to see that the industry was soulless. The art and stories were being dictated by companies that wanted to earn as much as possible.

    The stories were not chosen for their value and need in the world, but by which would make the most money. They profited on these stories and off the handwork and sacrifices of the below-the-line workers that were seen as disposable.

    Celebrities made millions, and I made minimum wage, but I didn’t have the luxury of a free jet ride back home and an apartment for my girlfriend. I was reprimanded for refusing to work on a Saturday after only five hours off.

    Slowly, I began to question if this was who I was. If this “works in the film industry” was really. me. And I felt guilty! I felt like I was being ungrateful. I was working on big movies! How could I not be happy? I had “made it.”

    I could only go up from here. I could get to be the next Stephen Spielberg, the next Tarantino, the next Lucas? Then I worked for one of these types of famous guys. He was just a human. He wasn’t the god I held him up to be. He was flawed.

    Sure, he got the adrenaline rush of making art, but at my expense. I was lucky to have my name in the credits. I wasn’t part of the golden ones, the actors and producers who were the “real” movie.

    If I didn’t want to play the “Hollywood” game I could go independent. But I felt guilty that I called myself a filmmaker when I hadn’t made a film in years! I didn’t even have any desire to even come up with one.

    I had friends who were making films on the weekends. They dedicated every free second to it. All I did was sleep. Then drag myself for dinner or a date and pretend I had a social life before I had to be back at work. I felt guilty and afraid that if left the industry I would be seen as a failure.

    I was afraid that I would be seen as weak or people would think that I couldn’t hack it. The more angst I felt, the more I turned to my unhelpful habit of Googling advice.  There is nothing helpful about hours of reddit and self-help blogs. They are all contradictory.

    This Googling, however, led to some articles with actual facts. This is when I started to read about Americans’ tendency to identify with our jobs. Our self-worth and identity are wrapped up in what we do.

    We say things like, “I am a lawyer.” “I am a physicist.” “I am a teacher.” We don’t say, “I practice law.” “I study physics. “I teach.” We put the emphasis on the job and not the I.

    I started the long, tedious process of separating myself, the me, from the filmmaker and the woman who worked in film. I realized that I was uncomfortable calling myself a filmmaker because I wasn’t one.

    I struggled to define my title to other because I didn’t really believe that it was who I was. I am a woman who enjoys movies and stories. More importantly, I am energized by stories.

    Filmmaking was just a job. The intense zealotry aspect of the film industry had always sat wrong with me. Now I know why. I am not a job. I am more than the work I do.

    Through this process I came to slowly accept that I wasn’t happy with the work I was doing. There was a disconnect between it and the way I saw myself in life. I needed to walk away for a bit and allow myself to heal from the harm I and the toxic industry had infected upon my soul.

    It is not just the film industry that is toxic. American work culture is. We have created an environment where work has to be our passion. Confucius said, “Choose a job you love, and you’ll never have to work a day in your life.” I disagree. Work is work.

    You might enjoy it, but as long as you are giving your time for money you are participating in a business transaction, and it is work. Just accept it as work and accept that you can be a whole person outside of your job. Your job is only a small sliver of the much larger person.

    Our work culture throws around the phrase “We are like a family.” It is encouraged and suggested that your team members and colleagues are family. They aren’t.

    You can get along with them, be friends with them, but by labeling them as family there is a pressure to feel loyal and not let them down. Our alliances are manipulated to be given first and foremost to work. Any time spend doing something for yourself or your actual family is seen as selfish.

    A year after my last film job I still struggle to see myself outside these identities. I am now enrolled in grad school and I want to label myself as a student. But I am not. I am Dia. I study mythology.

    Sometimes I am a storyteller, but that title does not and cannot encompass the whole and vastness that I am as a person.

    Identifying ourselves by our work is like trying to fill a mug with the ocean. At some point the ocean will overpower the mug, and we will be left wet and feeling bad about ourselves.

    The next time you are at a party, after the pandemic, and you meet someone new, maybe don’t ask, “What do you do?” Instead ask, “Who are you?” Create the space to meet the real, whole person; the person who is vast, deep, and full of wonder for the world.

  • The Magic of Rewriting Our Most Painful Stories

    The Magic of Rewriting Our Most Painful Stories

    “When you bring peace to your past, you can move forward to your future.” ~Unknown

    It amazes me how things that happen in our childhood can greatly impact our adult lives. I learned the hard way that I was living my life with a deep wound in my heart.

    My father was a very strict man with a temper when I was little, starting when I was around seven years old.

    He had a way of making me feel like all my efforts were not enough. If I scored an 8 in a math exam, he would say, “Why 8 and not 10?” and then punish me. It was a time when some parents thought that beating their children was a way to “put them in place” and teach them a lesson. All this taught me, though, was that I was a disappointment.

    His favorite phrase was “You will never be better than me.”

    As I got older, his temper cooled down a bit, but one thing didn’t change: his painful remarks. “At your age, I was already married, had a house, a car, two daughters, and a piece of land… what have YOU accomplished? See? You will never surpass me.”

    It was his way of “inspiring me” to do better with my life, but it had the opposite effect on me. It was slowly killing my self-esteem.

    When my father passed away, I was seven-year-old Cerise all over again. At the funeral, I asked him, “Daddy, did I finally make you proud? Did I do good with my life?”

    This was the trigger that made me rethink what I was doing with my life. I had to stop for a moment to look at the past. This can be very difficult to do, but sometimes we need to face those painful events in order to understand the nature of our poor decisions and behavior.

    It helped me realize that, unconsciously, I was looking for my father’s approval in the guys I dated. And you know what? It got me nothing but disappointment and heartache, because I was looking for something that they couldn’t give me.

    Inside, I was still that little girl looking for her father’s love.

    When you are a child, you are considered a victim, but when you are a grown up, it is your duty to heal from what was done to you. You just can’t go through life feeling sorry for yourself and complaining about the hand you were dealt. This just keeps you stuck in a sad, joyless life and jeopardizes your relationships.

    In my case, I had to give that little girl the love she so needed in order to stop feeling lonely and stop making the same mistakes.

    The only approval that I needed was my own! When I realized that, I started learning to love myself—regardless of my accomplishments—and I also developed compassion toward my father because I recognized that he was raised the same way he raised me.

    He probably also felt he needed to be the best at everything he did in order to win his parents’ approval. And maybe he thought if I wasn’t the best at everything I did I would never be valued or loved by anyone else.

    Understanding this enabled me to forgive him, break the cycle, and finally let him go.

    So, what makes us slaves to anger, resentment, and abandonment issues? I think it’s the way we keep telling the story in our heads, and this is something that we can transform.

    Don’t get me wrong, I am not suggesting we sweep things under the rug and pretend like nothing happened. We cannot change the past, and certainly we cannot turn a blind eye to it, but we can modify the way we retell the story to ourselves, and this can be a step toward inner healing.

    I decided to give the difficult parts of my childhood experience another meaning. I edited the way I tell myself the story, and this is how it sounds now:

    “My father was a strict man because he wanted me to succeed in life. He taught me to give my best in every task assigned to me; he didn’t make things easier for me because he wanted me to become strong in character and to find a solution in every situation. Daddy constantly challenged me because he wanted me to develop my potential to the fullest so I could face life and its difficulties.

    I’m certain that when my father departed from this world, he did it in peace knowing that he left behind a strong and brave daughter.”

    This is now the story of my childhood, and you know what? I think I like this version better! It’s helped me close the wound I had in my heart. My childhood left a scar, but it’s not hurting anymore.

    My gift to you today is this: Close your eyes and picture a pencil. Do you know why a pencil has an eraser? To remove the things we don’t like, giving us the freedom to rewrite them into something that we feel more comfortable with.

    You can’t change the facts from your past, but you can change how you interpret them, so feel rewrite as much as you need.

    Your wounds will hurt a lot less when you broaden your perspective, try to understand the people who hurt you, and change the meaning of what you’ve been through.

  • How Redundancy Can Be a Blessing in Disguise

    How Redundancy Can Be a Blessing in Disguise

    “If you want something you’ve never had, you must be willing to do something you’ve never done.” ~Thomas Jefferson

    To most people, redundancy is a dreaded word.

    It conjures up thoughts of hardship, of scarcity, and of struggling to make ends meet.

    I have twice been made redundant, and at both times, it was difficult to accept.

    Throughout the redundancy process, and for some time afterward, my emotions were all over the place, making it difficult for me to think straight.

    But I’ve discovered that when we’re able to look back, we can sometimes see that redundancy might not have been the worst thing that could have happened to us.

    Redundancy: Was it A Blessing in Disguise?

    The first time I was made redundant occurred when my employer failed to hang on to our most profitable contract. Losing it resulted in my team and me transferring to the contractor that had outbid us.

    Regrettably, my new employer didn’t need another senior manager. So after just a week, they terminated my employment.

    I felt angry and upset.

    I fought back.

    But the truth is, at that point, I needed a break from work.

    My wife of thirty-five years was terminally ill.

    Redundancy meant that for her last few weeks, I could take care of her, 24/7.

    After her passing, I continued to fight the employer until we settled.

    However, I soon realized that grief would have made it impossible for me to perform to my usual high standards.

    My wife often said that everything happens for a reason.

    And I came to see that, in some circumstances, even redundancy can be a blessing. A blessing in disguise but a blessing, nonetheless.

    Six months later, I started a new job.

    Redundancy: Reason Gives Way to Emotional Turmoil

    My second redundancy was due to organizational restructuring.

    I was leading a multidisciplinary team in a national organization, but restructuring meant there were now fewer teams than managers, so my job was at risk.

    I had several new projects underway, and it seemed to me that a change of leadership at that point was untimely and potentially damaging.

    But that didn’t seem to count for much.

    Despite my indisputable performance, I was made redundant.

    Again, I felt aggrieved, upset, betrayed and angry.

    Compared with voluntarily walking out on a job without another one to go to (as I have done several times), being made redundant feels very personal, which it seldom is. And, in my case, feelings of helplessness, and loss of control, made me want to fight back.

    I’ve seen staff display similar emotions when, as their manager, I’ve led them through redundancy consultations. I always tried to soften the blow by pointing out that it’s the post, not the post-holder, that is being made redundant.

    But when we’re on the receiving end of bad news, we’re unable to comprehend the difference; our minds churn with negative and frightening thoughts.

    Restructure: Redundancy and Reluctant Retirement

    By now you’re probably thinking, this guy has anger management issues. I assure you, I don’t. I am usually an easy-going person, but for some reason, the thought of redundancy brought out the worst in me.

    I guess it’s the fight-or-flight response.

    But this time I didn’t fight.

    Even though I dreaded being jobless, I wanted to get on with my life.

    I was beyond state retirement age, but I felt too young to retire.

    • I was in good health and still had a lot to give.
    • I had been working for more than fifty years and couldn’t imagine life without a job.

    In time, I came to recognize this redundancy as a blessing too: the organization’s values were drifting further apart from mine. If I hadn’t left at that point, it wouldn’t have been long before I left by choice. At least, with redundancy, they paid me to go.

    Redundant? Stop the Panic! Reflect and Regroup

    Bereft of my job, I immediately started applying for new positions.

    I applied for two jobs and received an interview for both.

    I felt good: two interviews from just two applications!

    Here was proof that employers were looking for someone like me, with high-level qualifications, skills, and experience. All I had to do was play the numbers game, keep submitting job applications, and sooner or later the right job would be mine.

    The interviews went well—or so I thought.

    I didn’t get either job.

    But instead of being disappointed, I felt such a deep sense of relief that I just knew I needed to think seriously about why I felt that way.

    That was a turning point.

    Gone was the panic of not having a job; I was thinking clearly.

    I decided that if I worked at all, it would be for myself, on my terms.

    So, I stopped searching through job ads and binned my CV.

    Now I could spend time with my pre-schooler grandchildren: another blessing.

    I felt free.

    Redundancy: Impact on Self-esteem and Self-belief

    If your job is at risk, you might think me naive to suggest that redundancy can be a blessing.

    That’s a fair point: I am not commenting on redundancy in general, only on personal experience, and even then, with the benefit of hindsight.

    Your experience is unlikely to mirror mine, and your circumstances will be substantially different. Nevertheless, I’ve tried to be open and honest about my feelings to show you that:

    • Redundancy can evoke intense emotions which are likely to cloud our judgment;
    • Acknowledging and embracing our feelings is better than burying them, or pretending we’re okay when we’re not;
    • We are more likely to feel differently, and to see the best way forward when we are thinking clearly.

    When we’re in a state of shock, our self-esteem suffers, and self-belief goes through the floor. Which probably explains why I immediately started looking for another job. Maybe subconsciously I was trying to prove to myself, and the world, that I still have what it takes to be successful.

    However, once my mind quietened, I could think more rationally.

    I decided to deliberately explore opportunities for which I had little or no knowledge or experience, options that would push me well beyond my comfort zone.  And for that, I needed to learn new skills, which I have done, and continue to do.

    Redundancy: A Chance to Chase Our Dreams

    I acknowledge that not everyone is in a position where they can choose not to seek paid employment, and I’m certainly not advocating it.

    But, regardless of our differing circumstances, redundancy provides time for reflection, time that we might not otherwise have, and which we could put to good use.

    Some of us are so busy that we never stop to wonder if what we’re doing is what we truly want.

    Others might knowingly be sacrificing their dreams rather than risk not having a steady income.

    In either case, it’s good to stop occasionally to think about what types of work would give us the most satisfaction and fulfillment.

    As Thomas Jefferson said, “If you want something you’ve never had, you must be willing to do something you’ve never done.”

    I don’t have many regrets, but I wish I’d pursued some of the things I’m doing now, much earlier. Because I’m discovering that careers like writing and coaching would have been possible even when holding down a demanding job.

    To conclude:

    There’s so much about redundancy that I still don’t like.

    But I did like being given the time in which to think.

    And I saw that I had a choice.

    I could see redundancy either as a disaster or a blessing: I chose the latter.

  • Pain is Not Purposeless: How to See the Meaning

    Pain is Not Purposeless: How to See the Meaning

    “Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at the moment.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Have you ever felt a general dissatisfaction with where you are in life? Ever felt like you can do something better than what you’re doing, but you’re not sure exactly what or how?

    I have. In fact, I still feel this way, although I am slowly working my way toward creating a more purposeful life for myself. This can feel distressing. Painful. I feel your pain. But take heart that your pain is not purposeless.

    If these feelings are familiar, this piece is for you.

    Over the course of a few years, my naïve sense that I was one of those people who would just sail through relatively easily and find my way to fulfilled life, without much effort, was shattered. It left me exposed and vulnerable. Feeling weak and pathetic. It brought the realities of life into sharp focus, and I had to work hard to find peace with the long game of life.

    For several years I worked with a great bunch of people in a field I was passionate about. But the job itself became monotonous and stale. I felt I was stagnating and needed to cultivate my passion elsewhere and use my talents more fully. I applied to train as a secondary school teacher and took a place later that year.

    I was under no illusion that it would be easy, but my naivety led me to believe that I would be the exception to the rule and would take it all in stride.

    The first belief to break. And break me, it did.

    After three months I felt the reality that I was no stand-out person anymore. I could feel a mountain of expectation threatening to take over my life and leave me with nothing but work, work, work.

    For the first time in my life, I didn’t finish. I quit the course. And I was left soul searching for months.

    Eventually I got a temporary job in a country park, working outdoors and engaging with the public doing fun things like pond dipping. The summer was beautiful that year and it healed my soul a little.

    But that came to an end after a few months and I had to find another job very quickly. I didn’t want to be left with nothing again. Partly out of desperation and partly because it was a convenient fit to previous experience, I took a job at a waste treatment plant.

    It was a stark contrast to the country park.

    It was grey. It was ugly. It smelled. The people weren’t unfriendly but weren’t exactly welcoming either. I felt trapped and began to despair about what life was all about. The daily grind ground me down. Was this all there was?

    I was walking an emotional knife edge nearly all the time, and I couldn’t see through the fog. I felt like I was being punished for my relatively straightforward, stress-free life so far.

    Fulfillment was not my destiny after all. I had failed. Or so it felt. This all began when I was twenty-seven and the worst of it between twenty-eight and twenty-nine. Hardly the end of my life.

    So, if pain is not purposeless, then what is its purpose? How can there be opportunity in feeling so unhappy?

    If I had known how to deal with the feelings evoked in me from the start, then I wouldn’t have felt the pain so intensely. The fact that I had to learn how to cope was the very purpose of it all.

    Looking back now, this was all necessary because I have learned so much during this process (in fact, I’m always learning).

    Even though I’m still not sure exactly where I want to be, I’ve learned to be more present and intentional in the everyday process of life. In fact, because I don’t have a definitive idea, I have learned these things. Because I realized I needed to learn to appreciate the moment or I’d live my whole life waiting for the future.

    So, if you’re reading this in the midst of something similar to what I have described, realize that what you’re going through is part of a greater process.

    Make dealing with the pain the reason for the pain.

    Whatever you’re going through, choose to see this as an opportunity to learn about yourself and hone your coping skills. And consider that maybe you need this exact experience to heal, grow, and thrive.

    If you’re dealing with a breakup, this could be an opportunity to heal your relationship patterns and learn to be alone.

    If you’ve just lost your job, this could be a chance to reflect on what you really want and what might make you more fulfilled.

    If everything is falling apart all at once, this could be a challenge to find peace and strength within yourself so you’re able to better weather any storms that come your way.

    To adopt this kind of perspective, we must accept life in its entirety. We all want to feel “good” about life, but there is opportunity in all sadness.

    Accepting this and discovering the opportunity in your challenge will help to improve not just your short-term mental health, but your outlook on life overall.

    And when you embrace this shift in perspective, it will improve your patience with life. A patience to allow life to unfold without having to know exactly how or what or when. Particularly when we’re young we are impatient to get to where we feel we ought to be or to feel how we want to feel. This leads us to feel resentful and entitled to better.

    You do deserve better, but it won’t happen in an instant.

    Be grateful that you are aware of your desire for greater fulfilment. That’s the first step. The next is to wield it effectively to make it a reality.

    But we need to learn to deal with the pain along the way. Seeing the opportunity in painful experiences starts with the small things.

    Take the next daily irritation and turn it on its head—being stuck in traffic on the way to work, for example. What is the positive side? Can’t find one? Keep thinking. Maybe it’s a chance to practice patience. Or an opportunity to practice not sweating the small stuff.

    Our natural tendency is to gravitate to the negative (evolution’s fault). Keep at it and you will train your mind to focus more on the light than the dark. If we allow ourselves to be consumed with the negative, we are not seeing the whole.

    You can also hone this empowered mindset by being grateful for the little things in your life. Have you ever been consumed with frustration from work at the end of an otherwise beautifully sunny day? Or rushed through your coffee in the morning thinking about the rest of the day? Or missed the sounds of nature or the fresh air on your skin because you’re in a rush?

    Make an effort to notice these things and appreciate them. Write them down at the end of the day and you may surprise yourself at the length of the list of simple pleasures that dotted a day that you perceived as a “bad.”

    Then, when whatever you are going through resolves (and it will, in time), you will have appreciated the good amidst the not-so-good.

    We will resolve our problems one way or another. We can either resolve them and choose misery through the pain or resolve them and choose positivity through the pain. The choice is ours to make.

  • How I Found the Secret to Happiness in the Jungle

    How I Found the Secret to Happiness in the Jungle

    “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” ~Mahatma Gandhi

    I’d like to bring it one step further and say, “Happiness is when what you feel, what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”

    Some people may argue that there is no need to add in “what you feel,” but I think there is. There is a difference between feeling and thinking.

    For example, I thought I wanted to be a travel writer, I said I was going to be a travel writer, and I did travel writing. By definition I should have been happy. But I wasn’t.

    Deep down I didn’t really want to be a travel writer, and my heart knew it. I liked writing and I liked traveling, and my thinking brain put the two together to come up with a career.

    Last October I flew to Mexico with three of my best mates. I had a writing gig in my back pocket and I also had my own personal blog, which I planned to keep updated. We would be spending three months traveling from Mexico all the way to Costa Rica, so I was sure to have plenty of material to write about.

    But only two weeks into the trip, I realized I didn’t like having to write about my travels, especially while I was still traveling. I much preferred immersing myself in the experiences rather than having to constantly step back from them to analyze each experience and write about it.

    It felt forced and unnatural. There was too much structure and not enough time to let thoughts simmer in my mind in order to make distinct connections. Another downside was that I would need to spend time alone in cafés each morning to write.

    This often led me to miss out on other great things that my friends were doing. While we were in Guatemala, I even missed the chance to see a jaguar in a local sanctuary, one sight I had been really hoping to experience.

    I soon gave up on travel writing and any efforts at blogging while I was traveling. I knew there would be plenty of time to write when I got home after I had time to digest it all.

    I realized that just because something makes sense in my head, doesn’t mean it’s what my heart truly wants. Deep down I feel like I knew I wouldn’t enjoy much of the hidden aspects of travel writing. But my head outplayed my heart’s instinct and only showed me the upsides and possibilities.

    So in order to be truly happy you must have harmony with what you feel in your heart, not just your head. Your heart must be aligned with your thoughts, words, and actions. And the heart should be the one that initiates the rest. Thoughts, words, and actions should follow what you feel in your heart.

    Maybe Gandhi implied this in his quote, but I feel it necessary to say it explicitly. The world we live in today can get muddled and complex, so having a guiding mantra that is specific can help direct us.

    The Call to Return Home

    Earlier this year I returned home to Ireland after spending a total of two years and three months traveling. While I was away, I spent plenty of time tapping into what my heart truly wanted for my future.

    There were moments where I wondered if I even wanted to return home. I thought about continuing the traveling lifestyle, seeing the whole world. I could work odd jobs when I needed more cash.

    When I think about it, I’m sure I would’ve been able to enjoy myself if I continued traveling. But the reason I didn’t choose it is because my heart wasn’t in it. My heart was yearning for that return home to Ireland.

    I was eager to return to my family and get started with my mission to reimagine Ireland’s education system. I believe education should empower young people to find love, joy, and fulfilment in their lives, not just prepare them for a limited number of careers.

    When My Calling Was Blinded by Pleasure

    There were many moments on my travels where I got caught up in the fun of drinking with good friends and I wondered if I really did want to go home to pursue this mission. One particularly memorable moment was when I was volunteering in the Treehouse hostel in Nicaragua.

    As I sat overlooking the jungle canopy, sipping on a cold beer after one of our wild jungle rave parties, I watched the morning sun pierce through the trees. I felt its warmth sooth my face, and any worries about the future were washed away as the refreshing beer slid down my throat. Tropical house music gently bounced from the speakers, and I was surrounded by friends who were all chatting and laughing.

    This is paradise, I thought. Why would I leave? Why put all my efforts into something that wasn’t guaranteed to give me immediate joy?

    I didn’t owe it to anyone to reimagine Ireland’s schools. Why not just live a carefree lifestyle, traveling to new places and finding new groups of friends to drink with and beautiful girls to chase?

    Seeing Things Clearly 

    Looking back now, I realize the endorphins rushing through my body were tricking me into believing I needed to seek more instant pleasures like these and forgo my grander visions. But once I sobered up and the newly made friends and beautiful girls disappeared, those feelings of joy wore off, only to be replaced with a profound feeling of emptiness.

    Deep down I yearned for real connection and a sense of purpose. Something I knew could only be found in a great love or a great mission.

    The freedom I felt in the jungle was euphoric, but I knew that it couldn’t be sustained. There was a fire in my belly that couldn’t be ignored. Moments of pleasure could dim the flame for a while, but they could never put out that spark that was pushing me to do something more.

    Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed my travels. I indulged in many pleasures and had a great time while doing it. I had lots of amazing experiences, met tons of great people, and learned countless lessons along the way.

    I’ve experienced the most blissful peace on top of mountains and the most painful loneliness at the bottom of them. My time spent traveling was an important part of my journey through life. One that I’ll always remember and always be grateful for.

    However, I knew that making the pursuit of pleasure my aim in life was dangerous. It was always destined to lead to a life of addiction and misery. I’m aware pleasure can bring me joy and satisfaction in the moment, but I also know those feelings never last.

    Where True Happiness Exists

    I am not saying I am giving up pleasure altogether, I still love drinking and things like sex and nice food are great too! I’m just putting my heart’s mission in front of my mind’s pleasure pursuit. My mission is what will bring me lasting joy and fulfilment.

    My casual indulgences in pleasures will simply bring me all I expect from them. Momentary pleasure.

    I urge people to experience the fullness of life through travel. Try the things you’ve always dreamed of trying. Indulge in pleasures and enjoy them in the moment. Just remember that the joy they bring will not last forever.

    Lasting joy and fulfillment must come from within. When you are living in line with what your heart believes is right. When what you think, say, and do is in harmony with what you feel. Pursue that great love or that great mission when they ignite inside. When you do, you won’t need to seek happiness. Happiness will find you.

  • How to Recreate Meaning Now That the Pandemic Has Upended Life

    How to Recreate Meaning Now That the Pandemic Has Upended Life

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

    “It’s not the events of our lives that shape us, but our beliefs as to what those events mean.” ~Tony Robbins 

    Like millions of others, I lost my job in the wave of the coronavirus pandemic. I was teaching on a small island in the Caribbean. I discovered a purpose through my work, loved the peaceful nature of the island, and, true to my introverted nature, loved living in my too-quiet community. It was a job and a life that I had dreamed of for years.

    So, when we got the notification that we had to return home, I didn’t know how to react. Did it even make sense to be angry or sad or confused in the face of what felt like a cosmic slap? It wasn’t how this chapter of my life was supposed to turn out.

    The world is currently locked in the grip of uncertainty. All the numbers and fears, the influx of information, it’s hard to grasp onto the railing when the floor keeps shifting.

    Instinctively, many of us have created comfort in a cloud of normalcy. We’ve remade schedules, moved most of our interactions online, and explored new and old hobbies. I, of course, have done the same. After all, my life reset in the span of a week.

    But how can I be okay when I’m staring down a hole where my purpose used to be? How can I stay standing when my life and work are hanging somewhere I can’t reach?

    We Desire Meaning in our Lives

    As humans, it’s important to have meaning in our lives, whether it’s through our relationships, our work, or our interests. Making a difference, making art, making a living—everyone has something that drives them. We need to discover our “why,” and that “why” is easier answered when we define our values.

    It’s hard for me to live a life that isn’t true to who I am. I didn’t even know what a meaningful life looked like for a long time. The values I had weren’t fully realized, and I held them in shaky arms.

    Finding the answer to my why was neither guided nor paved. After years and years of schooling and working that bore no fruit, I started doubting that my life could be more than me simply moving to the next thing. And when you’re just moving along, purpose is nothing more than an idea.

    But when I found it, something in me thawed. The landscape changed. Moving along became moving with a purpose.

    And then I lost it.

    When I returned home, I struggled through an episode of disillusionment. Was there a point in trying? I reached out to my friend, and she provided me with a guidepost that I used to reframe my new life. Life is about connections with people. We all enrich the lives of others.

    It’s wisdom I’ve heard before. It’s not esoteric. But I have always felt disconnected from people and from the world. So her words didn’t click until I looked back and realized what I had gained—an understanding of the world outside my bubble and a duty to put others above myself.

    This meaning linked me to a world that I had always insulated myself from. It gave me a lens that I could better understand people through. It wasn’t just about me anymore. I have always valued helping others, but I learned that you have to step outside of yourself to really support and connect with others.

    Losing that put me in that hole. My link had been severed by an outside force, and I had no idea if it would ever let me reconnect it. Insecurity crept in. Would I be forgotten? Did anything matter anymore?

    I could let the pandemic answer those questions for me, or I could take my friend’s advice to heart.

    Recreate Meaning When Meaning is Lost

    Many of us have similar stories of losing important pieces of our lives. And those pieces are all tied to our personal stories. Meaning is an anchor that connects us to the world. Without it, we remain adrift. We’re just moving along.

    The pandemic has robbed us of milestones, livelihoods, jobs, events, and so much more. We’re all searching for ways to fill the holes, and this is made much harder in this tense atmosphere. But we can recreate meaning to build and maintain our connections to ourselves and to others, especially in a world that reminds us that life is fragile.

    1. Revisit your values.

    Family, creativity, knowledge, fun, service. What do you find important in life? Our values cement our understanding of who we are and what we want. They lead us to the people and opportunities that fill our lives with meaning and joy.

    Helping people—showing others love—is important to me. While I can’t currently help how I previously did, I am capable of showing love to friends, family, and those who need a hand. I believe love is how we can get through the pandemic.

    Creating is something that I also value, namely writing. Journaling helps me connect to myself, and writing articles like this gives me the chance to help others.

    Retell your story. Retrace the steps that led to your values.

    2. Reconnect with loved ones old and new.

    Like my friend stated, we all enrich the lives of others. Our people give us memories and share laughs with us. They pick us up when we’re down, point us forward when we’re looking backward, and remind us of what’s important when we’ve forgotten. They’ll help us through this crisis.

    The urgency of the current climate can give us a nudge to reintroduce ourselves to our family and friends. We can discuss the things that matter to us. Connect with each other on a deeper level, since, for many, emotions are close to the surface. It’s okay if we needed the extra push to reconnect.

    I am terrible at keeping in touch with others. Social isolation and concerns surrounding the virus, however, have pushed me to maintain and strengthen the connections I have. I don’t want to lose the link I established between myself and others.

    And I’ve been grateful to have heard from people I haven’t spoken to in a long time. It’s reminded me that I mean something. Perhaps we can remind others that they mean something, too.

    3. Engage in activities that are meaningful.

    Our lives are more limited, and we can’t always control what we have access to. If we’re able, we can explore our hobbies more, start new ones, or engage in meaningful activities. Not for the sake of using our time productively or just to keep busy, but for the sense of calm and fulfillment it can bring to our spirits.

    Even doing something as simple as playing a game, by ourselves or with loved ones, can be purposeful. Fun and relaxation mean something too.

    I looked to reconnect to the world by creating. I started writing almost every day and began exploring graphic design, something I was always interested in. By keeping on a purposeful track, I kept myself from just moving along to the next thing. It keeps my spirits up.

    4. Recreate milestones and events.

    Many things may be canceled, but that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate the important moments in our lives. They can still mean something even if they don’t happen normally. Many people have moved graduations, birthday celebrations, and other moments online.

    If we desire to, we can recreate those moments in a way that is special to us.  The internet is filled with examples of people who have celebrated or plan to celebrate in their own way. With a little creativity, we can bring that magic home.

    Waiting for the world to return to normal is okay too. Sometimes we want the tried and true traditions. Meaningful is meaningful no matter how it is presented.

    —

    Getting out of bed is hard some days. I often question the point of doing anything. To help move through this lost meaning, I’ve funneled as much of the chaos as possible into rediscovering new meaning.

    The anxiety and uncertainty are overwhelming. The pandemic is challenging everything we know. But it’s important that we feed ourselves purpose when we’re able to. Our spirits burn brighter when they’re lit with that spark.

  • Radical Gratitude: How to Turn Your Pain into Peace

    Radical Gratitude: How to Turn Your Pain into Peace

    My journey to living in gratitude began in 2010. And let me say that up until that time, until I was age forty-five, I was a complainer, griper, and a whiner, with absolutely no reason to complain!

    Luckily, I was saved from these very wasteful, counter-productive habits when I was given a blank journal one Thanksgiving season by a New Thought minister, who told us if we journaled five things we were grateful for forty days, our life would change exponentially for the better.

    I dutifully wrote my gratitude lists, and oh my god, my life did change. It worked! I let go of complaining and started focusing on all the good in my life, and there is plenty.

    Since then:

    1. I have written five or ten things to be grateful for almost every day for years and years. Each morning and each evening, I also reflect on what I am thankful for.

    2. I have realized (and I am thankful) that it is now my calling and passion to share the power of gratitude to inspire others.

    3, Because of my passion to share gratitude, I have written and published five books on gratitude!

    Nowadays, I keep my gratitude practice alive and well by sending out daily email gratitude reflections to a group, and I also write letters to the universe several times a week about what I am thankful for now, and in advance. I find that each year, my gratitude practice expands. Nowadays, I often write paragraphs rather than a short list about what I am grateful for.

    Did you know that scientific studies prove that being grateful helps to be more peaceful, more joyful, and healthier? It is said that you cannot be simultaneously mad or depressed while being grateful, and I’ve found this to be true.

    It is my belief that we can almost always find a reason to be grateful, even when confronted with tragedies, unexpected disasters, or even ill health—a practice known as “radical gratitude.” And this holds true for challenging people in our lives as well. Here are two disclaimers:

    • Forgiveness and acceptance can often be key to finding the gratitude in a situation, but these two concepts will not be discussed in this article. The article would be too long!
    • One more disclaimer: I realize there are some tragedies where a person cannot ever feel gratitude, such as losing a loved one or being sexually abused. It may not work for everybody and every situation.

    But more often than not, we can find the gratitude in negative situations in our life.

    My Personal Experience of Finding Gratitude in Tough Times

    In the summer of 2018, Oregon (where I live) had many devastating wildfires. We watched in horror and disbelief as it came closer and closer to our home. It became obvious we would probably be evacuated. The smoke was black, firefighters and National Guard were checking everyone’s IDs before letting them enter the street to our house.

    Neighbors and I got out of our cars to stop and watch it burning fields and trees so close to our homes. I tried to keep a positive attitude, but it got to be only a half-mile up the street from our house. Very, very scary! I love where we live, and the thought of losing our home was terrifying.

    On a Saturday afternoon, as I tried to take a nap to escape, our phones started ringing and texting that we were in Level 3, evacuation time. Get out now.

    We took our dogs and my cockatiels, computer, important papers, and some clothes and left the rest. We were evacuated for six days and got to come home—all houses and neighbors were thankfully safe and sound. Here are my gratitude takeaways:

    1. We were taken in by friends from the Center for Spiritual Living where I attend, and actually about eight other people had offered us refuge as well. I am very grateful for that, and for Alison and Gary who made us feel at home, helping me set my computer up at their house so I could work and putting up with us and our messy pets. We all became much closer friends through this experience, and we socialize with them regularly.

    2. I am now grateful for the firefighters and all personnel who helped—in my heart, not only in my head. They are amazing!

    3. I think the biggest gratitude I have for the wildfire experience is that I was able to surrender and let go of coming back to our home. This was the only way to stay sane, and that was a gift. After all, it is love, not possessions that matter, and I got clearer on that through the experience.

    When I was thirty-five, I lost my beautiful mother when she was only fifty-seven through cancer. This was a horrible time in my life. I remember waking up feeling good and then immediately feeling dread and sorrow, when I remembered that Mom would die soon.

    One of my gratitude takeaways from that grief-stricken time is that I was Mom’s main caregiver, and that brought me much closer to her in those last nine months. My sisters and I got closer because of that experience, and that was the first time I got introduced to A Course in Miracles, a spiritual set of lessons that changed my life for the better.

    My mother had what I called “Angels” helping her from The Center for Attitudinal Healing in Tiburon, CA and they studied A Course in Miracles, which prompted me to study it as well, because they were so giving and inspirational to me.

    Also, before she died, my mother spent time reflecting on her cancer and what could have caused it, and felt that being a people-pleaser and fearful all her life had prompted the disease. She left me with the message not to be like her, which I am very grateful for and have always remembered, and changed my codependent behavior because of it. Additionally, we had time to say goodbye, which cancer usually provides, and that was a big blessing too.

    One more example that changed my life incredibly in so many ways was going through a divorce after twenty-four years. This was a very difficult decision, I wasn’t sure if it was the right one, and my ex-husband ended up deciding for us. I was heartbroken. So heartbroken that I finally sought out the Center for Spiritual Living, in Santa Rosa, CA, which many people in my life had gently suggested I might attend because they felt I would love it too. And I did!

    From the moment I entered, I got tears in my eyes, seeing all the loving, warm people. As I listened to the talk, I realized even more that this would be my spiritual home the rest of my life, and it has been.

    I am eternally grateful for my divorce now. I took the spiritual classes voraciously; became a licensed practitioner, now serving in Oregon where I live. I am blessed to teach spiritual classes and workshops, and in 2019, I spoke at two Centers for Spiritual Living about the topics in this article.

    I eventually met my second husband, who I have been with for almost twenty years, and we are much more compatible. He asked me to move to Oregon and I did. And I am in love with the forest, rivers, and beauty. None of this would have happened had I stayed in my first marriage. Very thankful!

    In each of these cases, some gratitude was easily available, but more came later. It may take time, even many years to find the gratitude, but looking for it helps your healing.

    I want to mention several well-known people and how they found radical gratitude in their lives. Each is very inspiring to me!

    Viktor Frankl was a psychiatrist who ended up being put into a concentration camp during the Holocaust, and amazingly, found a way to stay positive. He ended up writing a very impactful book as a result of his experience—Man’s Search for Meaning—which has sold fifteen million copies and thus, impacted so many people’s lives.

    His premise is that we need to find meaning in life, and that will help carry us through even the hardest situations. He was a walking example. Here is a quote from his powerful book:

    “Everything can be taken…but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

    Will Pye who wrote a wonderful book on the subject of radical gratitude, The Gratitude Prescription, after he was diagnosed with a brain tumor and, through gratitude, healed himself completely.

    Here is a quote from his excellent book:

    “In looking at our self and our life story through the lens of gratitude, we can come into contact with the beauty and heroism inherent in every human alive. Gratitude for self supports a compassion encompassing all of us.”

    There are other examples too, of physical healing, where the person ends up being grateful for the illness. Anita Moorjani realized on a deep level that we are love after a near death experience, and could let go of her fear of cancer completely, and had a spontaneous remission. It is her calling to share her findings with others, and she wrote a beautiful book about her experience, Dying to Be Me, which has reached millions of people across the world.

    Helen Keller has always been one of my heroes. Even though she was deaf and blind at such a young age, she somehow always found reasons to express her gratitude. I share a very powerful quote from her:

    “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched—they must be felt with the heart. I thank God for my handicaps. So much has been given me, I have no time to ponder over that which has been denied.”

    In conclusion, I truly believe that we can almost always find gratitude in even the most challenging situations. It may take time, so be patient. Life is about how we respond to it, and we are always at choice, like Victor Frankl and Helen Keller so beautifully prove. I feel my own life examples also show this.

    Being radically grateful is not always easy but incredibly worthwhile. Our attitude truly affects our lives, and living with gratitude is powerful beyond measure.

  • What to Do If You Want More Purpose, Passion, and Meaning

    What to Do If You Want More Purpose, Passion, and Meaning

    “I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.” ~Joseph Campbell

    Do you ever feel like there’s got to be more to life? More purpose, passion, meaning—whatever your word of choice is?

    It’s happened to me twice. The first time was during the early years of my legal career, and the second time was just a few years ago (after battling an aggressive breast cancer).

    Each time I craved more meaning, yet these two experiences couldn’t have been more different.

    When it happened to me as a young lawyer, I didn’t know what to do.

    I’d wanted to be a lawyer since I was ten years old, and there was purpose behind the choices I’d made up to that point. Decisions that had gotten me where I was, such as:

    1. Majoring in economics (with a business minor) in college because I wanted to be a business lawyer, and
    2. Choosing corporate finance law because my ability to quickly see patterns and solutions was beneficial to structuring deals.

    In the early days of my career, I had a deep sense of fulfillment. But over a period of four years, that gradually changed.

    I didn’t realize how bad it was until the morning I stepped off the office elevator and suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was having a panic attack.

    I walked to my office, shut the door, and cried. That’s when I admitted to myself that I felt trapped in a purpose-less life that I’d worked hard to create.

    And that brought questions such as: How could I have once felt passionate about this life? Had I been wrong? If not, what had changed?

    After allowing my self-doubt to paralyze me from doing anything for a few months, I finally decided to do something about it.

    I wrote down a laundry list of things that I didn’t like about my life, which included:

    • Regularly working eighty-plus hours per week (for over a year)
    • Averaging only five hours of sleep per night
    • Feeling like I was easily replaceable and wasn’t making enough of an impact in the work I did
    • Not having spent meaningful time with friends in over a year
    • A wandering mind that was almost never present
    • Snapping at my husband (a lot!) for no real reason and being sour with peers who interrupted my work

    My list of woes was embarrassing, and I didn’t like who I was becoming. But it provided me with a roadmap for how to fix my problems. Moreover, it helped me recognize what purpose really is.

    Up until that point, I’d been looking externally for solutions and thought that I needed to find my true calling.

    The idea that purpose comes from one thing is a myth. And so is the idea that you find your purpose. You don’t find it; you create purpose in life by:

    • using your strengths to make an impact (in an enjoyable way),
    • aligning your life around your core values, and
    • having a sense of belonging.

    Let’s talk about what these mean and how I course corrected in each area.

    1. Utilizing your strengths to make an impact (in a way that’s enjoyable)

    Most people understand that purpose comes (at least partially) from making an impact. But there’s more to it than that.

    If you want to make an impact that’s meaningful, then you need to utilize your skills to the best of your ability (and that requires that you enjoy what you’re doing). That’s how you get and stay motivated.

    My problem was that I felt like my strengths weren’t being fully utilized in the work I was doing—and that I was stuck in the same role, stagnating.

    So, I asked to do more and sought out work from new people. Eventually, I changed firms to work in a different area of corporate finance that was better suited to my abilities.

    2. Aligning your life around your core values

    Core values are principles that make you uniquely you. They affect how you see the world around you and how you make decisions (even if you’re not consciously aware of it).

    When your life doesn’t align with your values, you’ll feel like something’s missing.

    One of the biggest reasons I was so unhappy was because I wasn’t living according to several of my core values. One of my values is family—not only was I not spending much time with them, but I wasn’t exactly present when I did.

    Another one of my values is to connect (which, for me, means connecting deeply with those around me and to stay connected with myself). My quest to do more and work harder make that almost impossible.

    I felt disconnected from family, friends, and peers alike. And my lack of sleep and high stress made it difficult to understand my own thoughts and emotions.

    To fix this, I first set work boundaries and reduced my workload.  Then, I prioritized self-care and time with family and friends.

    3. Feeling that you belong

    Having a sense of belonging is key to happiness. It brings meaning to your life.

    Belonging includes feeling needed, accepted, and loved. To have a sense of belonging requires active effort on your part. It requires that you seek to connect with other people that give you a sense of belonging.

    Unfortunately, the way in which we live often disconnects us from one another. We choose technology over in-person contact and hurry through life to get to the next thing.

    That’s what I had been doing. I was disconnected from those who had always understood me, and even worried that they wouldn’t understand what I was going through. But how could they when I rarely saw or talked to them?

    Luckily, this was fixable—the things I was already doing to better connect with family and friends helped to increase my sense of belonging. Plus, I rejoined organizations that I’d previously been too busy for (and missed).

    This experience gave me a blueprint to follow for life.

    One that helped me figure out why I craved more meaning in life after battling breast cancer (turns out that how I defined one of my core values—service—had changed). But the second time was different because I was confident that I could figure it out.

    It’s easy to get caught up in society’s expectations while climbing the ladder of success that’s set before you. Don’t let that happen, as you’ll likely lose yourself.

    Instead, use the blueprint above to help you create a life that’s meaningful to you.

  • How Letting Go of the Need to be Special Changed My Life

    How Letting Go of the Need to be Special Changed My Life

    “Our society has become a conspiracy against joy. It has put too much emphasis on the individuating part of our consciousness—individual reason—and too little emphasis on the bounding parts of our consciousness, the heart and soul.” ~David Brooks

    When I was in elementary school, I avoided group projects like the plague. When given the choice to work alone or as part of a team, I always chose to work alone.

    When I joined a new class, club, or sport, my parents inquired how I measured up against the rest.

    “So what do you think, Hail?” Dad would ask me. “Are you the fastest on the team? Did you get the highest grade?”

    In the years that followed I formed clubs, climbed to leadership roles, and sought only the most competitive opportunities.

    Later, I became fully self-employed as a coach. I had no colleagues—only clients. In my mid-twenties I moved to the Pacific Northwest in the name of novelty and exploration, leaving behind a thriving, New Jersey-bound network of extended family.

    I received a great deal of positive feedback for these decisions. I was succeeding, bucking social convention in favor of self-discovery, and family and friends described me as “brave,” “inspiring,” and “motivated.” I operated by a set of values that included fierce individualism and self-expression.

    This tale is as old as time among members of my generation. We’re the generation of digital nomad-hood, “Van Life,” and working from home. We value mobility. Wellness blogs laud alone time as the pinnacle of self-care. We spend hours each day on social media, seeking validation of our uniqueness and our worth.

    In The Second Mountain, NYTimes Bestselling Author David Brooks posits that this individualistic ethos is a backlash against the moral ecology of the 1950s, which emphasized group conformity, humility, and self-effacement. Since the 1960s, our culture has increasingly pushed back against collective identities, labels, and experiences, opting instead for boundless self-actualization.

    On one hand, I’m viscerally grateful for our culture’s modern emphasis on individualism. Women, especially, have waited centuries to receive cultural support to pursue our dreams and self-actualize. Likewise, as someone in recovery from codependency, I understand the critical importance of honoring my needs, my desires, and my choices. After all, it took years to break free from the shackles of people-pleasing and self-censorship.

    However, at a certain point, hyper-individualism stopped serving me and began hindering me. When my own specialness became the orienting principle for how I saw and interacted with the world, I lost touch with the belonging, trust, and community that culminate to form a rich and meaningful life.

    Individualism Gone Too Far

    As children, our caregivers and teachers celebrate us when we win awards, place first, and stand out. These celebrations become proxies for love—a love we have to work hard to earn.

    In adulthood, I hoarded my specialness, terrified that being “one among many”—in my career, in my lifestyle, in my heart—would leave me purposeless. I vested great effort into my hyper-individualism because I subconsciously believed it was the only way to feel seen and valued.

    I rarely fathomed the benefits of being a contributor, a member of a group, or a vessel for a greater moral or spiritual cause. I balked at “teamwork” and “service” because they threatened to rob me of my self-assigned elevated status. In fact, I judged those who advocated such ideals. These people have no identity, I scoffed. No dreams of their own. 

    Though my hyper-individualistic life had many socially sanctioned perks—I developed powerful leadership skills, special occasions found me swollen with pride, and my Instagram following climbed—I grappled with:

    Isolation. When I singularly prioritized my personal goals, personal time, and personal life, I didn’t have any allies. I was a lonely team of one. Though I made commitments to people and causes, I could be unreliable, self-centered, and flighty when better opportunities arose. I assumed that others would be the same. This left me with a sense of loneliness and skepticism that underscored even my most treasured connections.

    Detachment. A life dictated by hyper-individualism is a life detached from true connection. I often felt like a free-floating satellite, certain that no community—geographical, political, artistic, you name it—could give me as much joy as the pursuit of my goals.

    Anxiety. When our identities are based on being special, life is a relentless uphill climb. We will never be enough; we must constantly strive to be better, try harder, and achieve more. Under such circumstances, self-compassion is a distant possibility. Instead, anxiety becomes our daily companion, the soft whisper that erodes opportunities for peace and contentment.

    Finding Balance

    Throughout my years of hyper-individualistic thinking, I never realized that when we devote parts of ourselves to others, we benefit—really benefit—in return. The benefits of service and community aren’t just fluffy incentives for inspirational posters. Purpose, belonging, and a deep sense of trust arise when we willingly commit ourselves to other people, other causes, and other definitions of a meaningful life.

    I began to understand this truth when I befriended members of a group whose guiding principles espoused service, humility, and community. Upon first exposure to these ideals, my entire being revolted. These were the contrived, sing-song “values” that I’d spent my life trying to avoid.

    I spent months in a state of schism. On the one hand, I didn’t see how an other-centered life could serve me; I wasn’t taught to. I could only imagine how it would crush my identity and distract from my dreams. My ego was terrified. I wanted to hightail it out of there.

    But something kept me there, bearing silent witness to my discomfort, eyeing this community with curiosity. My new friends seemed anything but identity-less. In fact, they seemed embodied, peaceful, and genuinely happy. Their lives were not dictated by the ever-changing highs and lows of daily successes. They emanated groundedness and seemed to lack the existential woes that plagued most members of my generation.

    In retrospect, I believe I stayed because a part of me—a deeply hidden and deeply human part—was lonely, tired of the narrowness of my world, and craving something more.

    One night, something happened. My desperate, exhausted ego relinquished its grasp on my hyper-individualism. It was as if a switch had flipped within me. I felt a sudden, fierce desire to entrench myself in commitments to communities, to people, to a moral philosophy I could call my own. I felt like a wide-eyed, open-hearted child asking, “What now?”

    I don’t know exactly what happened that night— but since then, my values and philosophy have shifted with no effort on my part. Here’s what I’ve noticed:

    I feel more deeply connected to the people around me.

    Before, I spent most interactions with others noticing our differences. Disparities in age, experience, privilege, and values felt as palpable and prohibitive as walls. Now, I find myself noting similarities and relating more deeply to others’ experiences. Their stories penetrate the walls of my heart because I’m not hyper-focused on myself. My eyes well with tears at narratives of tragedy and stories of joy. Rich wells of empathy have taken up residence in me.

    My anxiety decreased dramatically.

    I no longer spend my days driven by the compulsion to overachieve or “prove” my value. My worth no longer depends on being special—and it’s liberating! Instead of being swallowed by a self-referential whirlwind, plagued by decision fatigue and perfectionism, I’m able to slow down, interact deeply and meaningfully with others, and relax into the comfort of my communities.

    I’m more curious.

    When specialness was my orienting principle, the only information I wanted to consume was related to my personal growth and my goals. Letting go of hyper-individualism allowed me to feel more a part of the human race and more a part of this Earth.

    Now, information of all kinds fascinates me. I get a kick out of watching Blue Planet, going to lectures on helicopter parenting, and reading memoirs by Midwestern farmers. None of this information is directly relevant to my experience, but it doesn’t matter. I’m intrigued by what the world has to offer.

    I know that everything’s going to be okay.

    Relinquishing my hyper-individualism helped me understand that I’ll never be truly alone. Now that I’m willing to commit myself deeply to others, I experience newfound depths of intimacy, trust, and safety. Even if I suffer a tragedy or loss, I will have a thick web of people to support me. I know this to be true because I would do the same for others.

    When I began this journey, I was certain that if I let go of my fierce individualism, I’d become amorphous and mundane. Instead, I became more deeply entrenched in the world around me. It has been an incredible gift.

    We tend to understand self-actualization as learning how to feel our feelings, comprehend our values, pursue our dreams, and express our highest selves. I believe that that’s true—and I believe that there’s more. Once we feel embodied in our own identities, I believe that the utmost manifestation of self-actualization is commitment to something greater: love for other people, overarching values, or warm communities.

    Letting go of the need to be special allowed me to see, with clear eyes, the abundance of connection, compassion, intimacy, and community all around me. It helped me begin to experience the world in its fullness—not as a leader, a facilitator, or a director, but as a member, participant, and recipient of its daily miracles.

  • Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    “A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking, because its trust is not on the branch, but in its own wings. Always believe in yourself.”  ~Unknown

    If you’ve ever stopped and thought, “What the hell am I doing?” or “How did I end up here?” believe me when I tell you that you are one of many—including me.

    Feeling lost is stressful enough, but what about when we disappoint ourselves more than anyone around us? What do we do when we have no sense of direction or purpose, and dwindling confidence in ourselves?

    I haven’t yet figured it all out, but that’s just fine. That’s the point exactly, that we don’t have to figure it all out right now. You can be hurting and healing at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.

    I found myself in what would be one of the darkest moments of my life at the ripe age of twenty-five. My girlfriend of five years and I split up as I was planning to propose, an F4 tornado destroyed my hometown, and I quit a successful job in advertising all in a matter of months.

    The truth is, I wasn’t happy in my relationship (even though I told myself I was over the years and through a myriad of fights). I wasn’t truly happy in my career. And I was missing a lot from life in general.

    So I took a hard look at myself—twenty-five, single, jobless, and feeling empty. Not empty in the lonely sense of the word. Empty in that I would wake up in the middle of the night and not see her next to me. Empty in that all my peers were on life’s highway setting goals for themselves, breaking them, and setting new ones thereafter.

    Every opportunity that I had been afforded, I took advantage of and excelled in. But I never found that one thing that fueled the fire in my heart. I don’t think I ever discovered my passion. By twenty-five, surely I must have been getting close, right?

    Many of my friends knew exactly what they wanted to do from a young age. Deep down, I envied that. To know my purpose was what I longed for. So why was I not one of those that automatically knew?

    I don’t yet have that answer, as you might’ve intuited, but I have found two things to be true thus far:

    1. Yes, some people know what they want early in life. But they are the exceptions to the rule.

    Many successful people we know today found success later in life. Stan Lee started the Marvel Universe at thirty-nine, Charles Darwin wrote On the Origin of the Species at fifty, and Grandma Moses began painting at seventy-eight years old.

    Then there are the countless people you’ve never heard of—and probably never will—who found meaning and passion later in life, or found it, lost it, then found it again.

    2. Maybe we are meant to do more than one thing.

    It’s our understanding of success that helps us define when we’ve reached it. Rather than think of success as one destination, we can choose to see it as the car ride from spot to spot, each equally exciting.

    So how do you recover when you feel as though life took you, chewed you up, and spit you back out? You don’t… at least not really.

    I stumbled upon a great quote a few days ago that read, “When people say recovery, you typically think of returning to how you were before. But there is no going back. You do not merely recover, but reinvent yourself. You become something completely different from what you were before.”

    I read that over and over until I felt the wisdom shiver itself into my bones.

    Many times we take a step back from situations to recover, when in fact what we may need to do is reinvent ourselves if we can no longer return to what we used to be.

    It’s not a negative thing, to reinvent who you are. In fact, it’s one of the most liberating experiences you will ever have. You just have to let yourself.

    If you’re anything like me, you are your own biggest critic. And although this can help us keep ourselves accountable, it can prevent us from broadening our horizons. We internally set limits for ourselves based on past experiences, thinking that we can only go as far as we’ve already been. When you learn to let go of the things that no longer serve your purpose but only hinder you, then can you truly soar.

    Let yourself gain new talents and explore new things outside of your comfort zone.

    Sometimes it’s important to let go of the oars and simply float the river. So often we try and paddle upstream when in reality we’d be better off letting the river guide us downstream, to where we haven’t been before.

    Think back to every missed opportunity that you were disappointed with. Many (if not all) of those so called missed opportunities were actually guideposts. Even the accomplishments that didn’t last served their purpose. They were not meant to last, they were only meant to change you.

    What if I would’ve gotten married? I would have never had the opportunity I have right now to move away to Colorado and explore new horizons.

    What if that Tornado wouldn’t have hit my hometown? I used that as a chance to rebuild my home from the ground up, when I wanted to remodel anyway.

    And if I had stayed in the security of advertising? Sure, things would be financially stable, but instead I chose to finally pursue my passion for teaching.

    So yes, every single experience in life is an opportunity for growth, whether it lasts forever or not.

    I had a baseball coach in high school who would always say, “We learn more from the games we lose than the ones we win.” I carry that with me to this day. Maybe it’s because we analyze more when we lose, or maybe it’s because it forces us to change our game plan for next time. But trust that next time, you’re starting from experience, not from zero.

    So trust that when everything seems to be falling apart, new things are coming together. But you have to be open to embrace them. Simply float the river. The point of life is not in the destination, it is in the journey. But we are led to believe that life is serious and that it must be leading us to some grand destination.

    I’ve found that life is more like a dance. No dancer points to a spot on the dance floor and says, “That’s where I must end up at.” The whole point of the dance is the dance.

    So I’ll leave you with three things that I’ve found help me on this journey I find myself on:

    1. Name three good things about your day.

    At the end of each day, speak aloud three good things that happened. They don’t have to be grand, just the little wins we often overlook. I helped my friends move, I beat my time in the mile, etc. These help remind me that in the middle of the storm, there are still accomplishments in the day and things to be thankful for. That, in turn, can change your mood and set the tone for tomorrow.

    2. Exercise and eat healthy.

    How you feel is tied closely to the food you consume. Make it a point to eat healthier and to exercise. This won’t only improve your mood, but also your self-confidence and overall health.

    I’ve found that whenever life throws challenges at me, one constant that I can count on is the gym. When I’m working out, nothing outside of those four walls matters. It’s my escape, if you will.

    3. Keep a journal.

    Although life is about the journey, having a sense of direction can anchor us when we’re feeling lost.

    Write down what you want (out of your next relationship, out of life, etc.). Jot down your thoughts, fears, and feelings as you sit with uncertainty and find a way forward. Journaling is cathartic and can help ease much of the pain. It can also help you feel a sense of progress. One of my favorite things to do is to look back on old entries, which can help me see how far I’ve come.

    So no, this isn’t the end for you. You will survive and you will look back one day and be so proud of yourself for doing what you thought to be impossible. How do I know? Because if you’re reading this, you still believe in yourself. You still have hope that there are exciting new chapters left to be written, even if you don’t yet know what to do, or how.

    As I stated at the beginning, I don’t have it all figured out just yet, but that’s okay. I don’t know where this journey will lead me, but I know it will be exciting and filled with adventure. And in the process, I hope that you too, will find whatever is it that fuels that fire in your heart. Don’t give up, don’t give in.

    So yes, ultimately everything seems to be falling apart, but I’m finally starting to see that it’s because something better is coming together. Trust your journey, and even if the branch breaks when you sit on it, your wings will help you soar to new heights.

  • What I Believe and Why My Life Is Better Because of It

    What I Believe and Why My Life Is Better Because of It

    “Seeing is not believing; believing is seeing! You see things, not as they are, but as you are.” ~Eric Butterworth

    I didn’t always understand this, but I now know that my beliefs shape my experience of the world.

    As I learned from Tony Robbins, our beliefs guide our choices, which ultimately create our results.

    Our beliefs can either be a prison, keeping us trapped in negative thinking and behaviors, or they can be empowering and lead to courageous action and new possibilities.

    For example, if you believe people are fundamentally bad, you may live life guarded, close yourself off to new relationships, and end up feeling lonely and bitter.

    If you believe people are fundamentally good, you’ll try to see the best in them, develop close bonds with some of them, and end up feeling connected and supported, even if people occasionally disappoint you.

    If you believe good things never happen for you and they never will, you’ll likely sit around feeling indignant and never make any effort.

    If you believe the past doesn’t have to dictate the future, you’ll probably keep trying different things and eventually create possibilities for passion and purpose.

    Same world, different beliefs, different choices—totally different results.

    Knowing that I can choose what I believe, and that this can either fill my life with meaning or leave me feeling empty, I choose to believe the following:

    1. Life happens for me, not to me.

    “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.” ~Steve Jobs

    Sometimes, it’s near impossible for me to believe this. I don’t expect anyone reading this to easily adopt this belief either. Because in those moments of pain and suffering, boy, it feels like life is happening to me, and it’s not even remotely helpful to think about how life could be happening for me. However, in time, as the clouds disperse and the pain passes, I’m able to look back and connect the dots.

    Were it not for my mental health struggles, my personal development journey may have never began and I would never have grown into the strong person I am today.

    Were it not for my string of failed romantic relationships, I never would have learned the power of loving myself first.

    And although I sometimes struggle to see that life is happening for me, a deeper part of me knows it benefits me to believe this is true.

    This deeper part encourages me to look back and connect the dots, and sometimes, in the midst of suffering, look for meaning in the moment by asking questions like: What lesson could this be teaching me? And what is the opportunity here?

    This deeper part of me knows that, no matter what happens to me, I can choose the meaning I give to what’s happening and how I respond.

    As Viktor E. Frankl wrote in his book Man’s Search for Meaning, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

    When I believe life is happening to me, I feel like a helpless victim. Although there is no shame in feeling like a victim, I don’t want this to become my full-time identity.

    Undeniably, life is hard, cruel, and tragic, but life is also beautiful. By choosing to believe life happens for me, I’m sometimes able to move from victim to victor.

    2. More is possible than I currently think.

    “Just remember, you never know what’s possible until you risk finding out.” ~Jasinda Wilder

    When it comes to knowing what’s possible for me in my lifetime, I know nothing.

    How could I? How could anybody else? Knowing requires me to be certain, and I know I’m certain more is possible than I think.

    Human history teaches us the boundaries of possibility are forever being pushed. Or perhaps, it’s more accurate to say that our willingness to discover what is possible is forever being pushed.

    Just think about how many Ideas were once considered impossible, even crazy!

    Electricity, the Internet, putting humans on the moon!

    As I look back over my own life, much has happened that at some point I thought was impossible, like speaking another language and being able to play the piano reasonably well.

    This belief empowers me because it makes life feel like a never-ending adventure, a game, where I get to discover and challenge the boundaries of possibility for myself.

    3. My life is about “we,” not just “me.”

    “As we lose ourselves in the service of others we discover our own lives and our own happiness.” ~Dieter F. Uchtdorf

    A wise friend of mine once advised me to “give away freely the very things I wish to receive.”

    At the time, it seemed counterproductive. I mean, to give money even though I want to receive more. To offer praise to others when it was me who wanted to be praised. To make an effort to be more understanding when it was me who wished to feel understood.

    Having faith in my friend, I decided to live life this way for a while, and so I gave away freely the very things I wished to receive without any expectations or hypotheses of what would happen.

    I gave more money—to the homeless and sponsoring friends for events.

    I gave praise—reaching out to people I love and admire, just to share my appreciation of them.

    I gave my ear—listening non-judgmentally so I could better understand people.

    I gave and gave and gave, and true to my friend’s advice, I received—so much more than what I’d given away.

    I received a sense of connection to the world and to the people in it, a deeper connection than I’d ever felt before. I realized the idea of separation is, as spiritual teachers often suggest, an Illusion. We’re all connected to one another—tied together by something the eye can’t see but the heart can feel.

    Through giving, through living in service of others, I received back abundantly, which helped me to form my third empowering belief, that life is about “we” and not just “me.”

    What makes my belief so empowering is the sense of connection that comes from knowing my life is connected to yours and to every other life, tied and woven by forces greater than I know or understand.

    This sense of connection alone gives my life meaning.

    —

    My life is better because I choose to believe these three things, and I act on them. Which beliefs make your life better?

  • 7 Ways to Know If Your Sacrifices Are Worth It

    7 Ways to Know If Your Sacrifices Are Worth It

    “The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.” ~Henry David Thoreau

    Have you ever looked at the path you’ve chosen and questioned if your sacrifices have been worth it? If you’ve prioritized the “right” things, pursued worthy goals, and ultimately, made “good” choices?

    Have you ever wondered if you’ll one day look back on your life and regret not only what you did, but also what you didn’t do, because maybe you’ll feel you wasted your time or somehow missed out on something important?

    If you answered no to these questions, you’re my new hero. I admire anyone who lives with such presence they never question what they’re doing because they’re too busy living it.

    But I, a consummate over-thinker, am not that person.

    I started thinking about this just recently after listening to the second episode of Next Creator Up, a podcast I’m producing with my partner in many things and show host Ehren Prudhel.

    In this interview, LA-based actress and filmmaker Melissa Center talked a little about what she’s had to sacrifice for her dreams. And though she got emotional when discussing the very different lives her friends and family are living—lives with houses, children, and financial security—she ultimately concluded that, for her, all the sacrifices have been worth it.

    She explained her reasoning, and I admired her sense of certainty. Because I know how easy it is to doubt yourself in a culture that not only promotes the idea of “having it all” but also bombards us with images of people pursuing alternative, seemingly better paths.

    I also know how hard it is to feel confident in our decisions, particularly because of many of us are disconnected from ourselves. If we don’t know what we stand for, it’s awfully hard to ascertain what’s worth prioritizing and what’s worth giving up.

    With this in mind, I decided to create this list of ways to know if your sacrifices are worth it. A lot of this comes down to knowing yourself.

    If you’ve been questioning your path, perhaps this will help you fully commit to it—or make the tough decision to change directions.

    7 Ways to Know if Your Sacrifices Are Worth It

    1. What you’re doing aligns with your values.

    We all have different core values—things we stand for and regard as crucial for our overall life satisfaction.

    When we live in alignment with our values, and honor them through our choices, we feel a sense of peace, even if our lives are sometimes challenging. When we we’re out of alignment, we feel internal conflict.

    For example, my top values are freedom, creativity, adventure, family, and integrity.

    I could never sacrifice my integrity to make money. Sure, I’d love to roll around on a bed full of cash, but the pain of acting without integrity would override the joy of financial abundance.

    I could never choose a lifestyle that leaves little room for spontaneity or limits my ability to visit my family. No matter what the rewards of said lifestyle, I would ultimately feel conflicted and dissatisfied.

    If your choices require you to sacrifice the things that matter most to you, regardless of the potential rewards, you will ultimately feel unfulfilled. If your sacrifices don’t threaten what’s most important to you—or at least not beyond the short-term—then they’re far more likely to feel worth it.

    2. You’re living your own version of success.

    Much like we all have our own values, we all have our own definition of success. Contrary to what our culture might suggest, there’s no one-size-fits-all scenario.

    My grandmother, who was one of my greatest heroes, lived a life very different from mine to date. She lived all of her eighty-two years in the same city, married young and had four kids, and devoted every bit of her free time to her family.

    She rarely traveled, didn’t have much money, and seemed perfectly content—ecstatic, even—to live the same day over and over again.

    If you gave her a table crammed with her loud Italian kids and grandkids, and a big pot of pasta to feed them, she was happy.

    Because she valued family, she never complained when caring for my grandfather, who ultimately lost both of his legs to diabetes. Caring for him took much of her time and energy, and she rarely did much for herself.

    But this—this love, this loyalty, this generosity of spirit—this is what defined a successful life to her, so ultimately, it was all worth it.

    Ask yourself what success looks like to you, and why. What do you do? What do you give? What do you gain?

    If you’re living your own version of success, then the satisfaction of enjoying what you have likely far outweighs the pain of accepting what you lack.

    3. You’re not trading happiness today for the hope of happiness tomorrow.

    You may have read the story of the Mexican fisherman before, but if not, here’s a condensed version:

    An American investment banker ran into a local fisherman in a small Mexican village and, seeing the several large tuna in his boat, asked the man how long it took him to catch them.

    When the fisherman said it didn’t take long, the banker questioned why he didn’t stay out longer and catch more. The fisherman said he had enough to meet his family’s needs.

    When asked what he did with the rest of his time, he answered, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine, and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life.”

    Hearing this, the banker offered the fisherman his help in creating a business—so he could buy more boats, catch more fish, and eventually be at the helm of an empire. This would require him to relocate, but in fifteen to twenty years, he’d be rich.

    The fisherman asked what he would do then, to which the banker responded, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”

    I think of this often when making life choices. If there’s nothing about an opportunity that excites me and fills me passion and purpose—if it’s solely about creating some ideal life down the road, or worse, meeting an ego need for success or validation—it’s most likely not worth my time and energy.

    Stop and ask yourself: Is this is a process I can throw myself into with enthusiasm? Or am I sacrificing potential joy now in the hope of finding joy later?

    4. You could be satisfied with your choice even if you didn’t reach your ideal outcome.

    Building on the last point, you know your sacrifices are worth it if you could be content with your choices regardless of where they lead you.

    If you need to make a certain amount of money, or reach your ideal goal exactly as you visualize it, to justify what you’ve given up, then you’re setting yourself up for potential heartache. Because there are no guarantees in life.

    No matter how hard you work, how much time you devote, or how smart or talented you are, you could one day realize that your efforts didn’t pay off in the way you hoped they would.

    Or, they could pay off for a while, and then something could change—you might have to switch gears to care for a loved one, or could lose everything due to circumstances you couldn’t possibly have predicted.

    If you could look at the time spent and conclude it wasn’t wasted—because you enjoyed yourself, felt a sense of purpose, or made a difference for other people—then in the end, your sacrifices are more likely to feel worth it.

     5. You’re still able to meet your needs, despite your sacrifices.

    When asked what surprised him most about humanity, the Dalai Lama said, “Man. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.”

    No rewards—monetary or otherwise—are worth sacrificing our physical, mental, and emotional well-being.

    If you’re working so hard that you have little time to eat well, exercise, and get sufficient sleep—and you end up overweight, exhausted, and on track for a heart attack—would any reward or glory really justify it?

    There are many things I would sacrifice for a cause I believe in or a dream that excites me—I don’t need luxuries, I don’t mind buying used, and I also don’t care if I own a car or a home.

    But I won’t sacrifice the things I need to function at my best. I can’t be present, and I’m no good for anyone or anything, if I’m physically weakened and so stressed that I’m constantly ready to snap.

     6. You only or mostly question your sacrifices when you compare yourself to other people.

    Though I’ve sacrificed a sense of community because I’ve chosen a free-spirited, nomadic life of adventure, I don’t often regret the path I’ve taken for all the reasons listed above.

    But every now and then I compare myself to other people and question if perhaps I should have what they have.

    I see people on Facebook who are a lot like my grandmother—lifers in one town, well connected to many, dialed into local causes—and I wonder if I’ve prioritized the wrong things.

    I’ve lived the life George Bailey fantasized about in the 1940’s holiday classic. But wasn’t his life lauded as somehow more wonderful than the life of an adventure-seeking dreamer and wanderer—and also far more meaningful?

    I see old friends on Instagram building new memories with people they’ve hung around with for decades, and lament that, unlike them, I’d have a hard time creating a large bridal party if I were to ever get married.

    Aren’t connections the most important thing in life? And do mine really count if they involve less face time—if I’m not at every family dinner, every holiday, and every milestone?

    But when I put my phone down and dig my heels into my own life, I remember that no matter what I choose, it’s a choice not to do something else. No one has it all. And those who have what I lack likely envy and glamorize what I have at times, just like I sometimes romanticize their circumstances.

    If you feel happy on the whole when you’re fully present on your path, and only question it when you take your eyes off the road, then odds are, your sacrifices are worth it.

     7. Your current path brings you meaning.

    We are all wired to seek pleasure and avoid pain—what positive psychologists refer to as hedonic happiness.

    This is what we feel when we do something that boosts our mood, and it’s why we often chase varied highs. We sometimes think “the good life” means abundant leisure time, fun, and excitement. And those things are definitely awesome, which is why we’re often willing to make sacrifices in the present in the hope of having more of them in the future (see #3).

    But there’s another kind of happiness that doesn’t depend on hedonistic pleasure. It’s called eudaimonic happiness.

    This is what we experience when we have meaning in our lives. When we devote ourselves to something bigger than ourselves. When we take on new challenges, grow, and use our strengths to contribute to the greater good in some way.

    If you’re doing something that feels deeply meaningful to you—if you’ve dedicated your life to a cause, you feel engaged in your devotion to it, and you feel proud of the impact you’re making—it will be a lot easier to make peace with sacrifices.

    This might mean working at a non-profit that pays you very little but enables you to make a tangible difference in other people’s lives.

    Or volunteering during your free time, which limits some of your social options but fills you with a sense of pride and purpose.

    Or raising children and going without sometimes, knowing your sacrifices are directly benefitting them and enabling them to grow into strong, healthy people.

    Ask yourself: Do I feel a sense of meaning? Am I proud of the person I’m being? Am I doing something that matters not just to me but also the world at large? Odds are, if you answer yes to these questions, you’ll look back without regret for what you gave up in order to give what you gave.

    —

    The number of realities we each could be living is absolutely mind-blowing if you think about it. Change any one choice and, through the butterfly effect, our lives could look completely different.

    And each of those little worlds would have its own gifts and challenges. In every possible scenario we’d have some rewards, some sacrifices, and some occasional doubts about whether the former justifies the latter.

    The good news is, as long as we’re still breathing, it’s never too late to change directions. If ever we recognize we’re not being the people we want to be or doing what we really want to do, we can take a new path, or even pave one where there is none.

    At any time we can decide to rebuild our lives around what we value, live our own version of success, and create a life of joy and meaning.

    —

    If you’re interested in listening to Melissa’s interview, about her experiences with her short and first feature film and the sacrifices of being an artist, you can find it here. And if you haven’t heard the first episode yet, with singer/songwriter Kelley McRae, you can find it here. 

  • How to Make Your Life Matter (Even If It Lacks Purpose and Direction)

    How to Make Your Life Matter (Even If It Lacks Purpose and Direction)

    “The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt

    “Calm yourself down. It’s okay. All is well.”

    I clung to the sterile white table while the laboratory was spinning around me.

    “It’s just an anxiety attack. It will be over soon.”

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, forcing my lungs to expand against the tightness in my chest. Cold sweat trickled down my spine as I battled the all-consuming feelings of overwhelm, panic, and disappointment.

    My life was going nowhere.

    How had this happened? I thought I had a plan.

    I had chosen a promising career in science to make a positive contribution. I’d dedicated myself to changing the world, gaining recognition, and creating a legacy. So my life would matter.

    And yet, I felt empty. Aimless. Unhappy.

    I was stuck in a pointless treadmill of work, eat, sleep, repeat. I had no social life, no hobbies or passions. I focused solely on my research, hoping to enrich other people’s lives.

    But instead, I added to pharmaceutical companies’ profits. I made no difference to anybody. And I was way behind in my career compared to other people my age.

    I lay awake at night, disillusioned and frustrated, beating myself up for my miserable failure, drowning in hopelessness, anxiety, and worries.

    What if I died tomorrow without leaving a mark on the world? Vanished without a trace, my insignificant life instantly forgotten?

    What if my existence was meaningless?

    I stood in the middle of the deserted lab, tears streaming down my face. Everybody else had left to enjoy their evening. Their lives had direction, happiness, purpose. They counted.

    What was wrong with me?

    As despair washed over me, I knew I couldn’t go on like this. I had to find my true purpose in life. Before it was too late.

    My Hopeless Search for Purpose and Direction

    After my fateful (and humiliating) breakdown in the lab, I embarked on a quest to find my true purpose, determined to make my life matter.

    I studied countless blog posts, articles, and self-help books. Desperate to discover the secret to filling my life with meaning, I absorbed every piece of information available on the topic.

    Most writers agreed that we have to focus on the things we love, and use them to contribute to society.

    The problem was that I had concentrated all my time and effort on pursuing an academic career. It had seemed a sensible choice at the time, with excellent prospects of achieving purpose and impact. But it had never been my passion.

    And I was now at a dead end, without a clue about what I loved, because my whole life was purpose-driven.

    I never went for a walk in the sun unless I could pick up some shopping on the way. I never spent time in the garden unless I could pull out some weeds at the same time. And I had abandoned my favorite hobbies of jigsaw puzzles and crochet because I thought they were useless activities.

    I felt guilty and lazy when I wasted precious time on them. Time that could be spent doing something productive and significant.

    For months, I obsessed over finding something I loved that also had purpose, but nothing I felt passionate about seemed important enough to lend meaning to my life.

    Growing more anxious, frustrated, and desperate by the day, I prepared myself to settle for an unfulfilling half-life, devoid of purpose, meaning, and direction. Maybe I had no purpose; maybe my life was too irrelevant to matter.

    But then, a thought popped into my mind that changed everything.

    What if the crucial question wasn’t “What’s my purpose in life?” but “Why is having purpose so important to me?”

    My True Motivation for Seeking Purpose in Life

    Having purpose enriches us. Knowing we can use our gifts to improve our community, better society, and enhance people’s lives, we experience joy. A deep feeling of satisfaction, connection, and fulfillment.

    But, as I dug deeper, I discovered that none of this really motivated my relentless search. At least not primarily.

    The truth was that I so desperately sought purpose in my life because, somehow, I believed that I had to justify my existence.

    It was as if I didn’t deserve to live if I didn’t have a purpose. As if I was unworthy of love and happiness until I could offer something useful to the world—until I had important achievements and contributions to show for myself, and was somehow special, somehow more.

    So, the pursuit of purpose became the sole purpose of my life. And my failure to identify what could give my life meaning left me feeling pointless, stressed, and ashamed.

    All because of one devastating misunderstanding.

    The Tragic Reason Why We Obsess About Our Purpose

    I spent my entire life chasing my purpose—desperate to achieve the one important contribution to mankind that would make me special, that would earn me recognition and approval and justify my existence—because, deep down, I believed that I was worthless.

    I considered myself an empty vessel, devoid of value and significance. I assumed that I had to gain worth through my accomplishments, successes, and qualifications. That I needed purpose and a clear direction in order to gain some worth and finally deserve happiness.

    The absence of purpose in my life created a painful worth deficit. I felt inferior to others who made valuable contributions and earned admiration, approval, and status.

    I mattered less. I was irrelevant because I was useless to society.

    It was my perceived lack of worth that made me feel empty and meaningless. And the only cure I could see was to find that extraordinary purpose that would make me worthy.

    So, I searched more and worked harder. I sacrificed every activity that didn’t seem meaningful and important enough to increase my worth, irrespective of how much I loved it.

    Foregoing all joy, I burnt myself out hunting for my purpose. So I could prove that my life mattered. So I could convince the world of my worth—and my right to exist.

    In the process, I missed the purpose of my life altogether.

    The Empowering Secret to Living a Worthy Life

    I thought I would never be useful enough to have worth, which meant my life would never matter, but I was wrong.

    And I realized it on the day I first cradled my newborn daughter. Looking down at the tiny bundle in my arms, there was no doubt in my mind that she was worth. That she deserved all the happiness and love in the world.

    Yet, she had no accomplishments to her name. She’d made no contributions to mankind and society. She had no concept of purpose, goals, or direction.

    Yet she mattered, simply because she existed.

    In this very moment I understood that we cannot have worth. It’s not something we earn, gain, or lose.

    Worth is the essence of our being. An absolute, inherent, unchangeable part of who we are.

    We are worth personified. Every one of us is 100% worth. From the day we are born to the day we die. And beyond.

    Having a purpose, a goal to work toward, can enhance our life, add to our happiness, and enable us to contribute to the world. But it won’t change anything about our worth, which is unconditional, unlimited, and independent of our actions.

    Success, accomplishment, and focused direction won’t increase our worth. And failure cannot diminish it.

    Because we are worth. We are wonderful expressions of life. And as such, we matter.

    Finding a Way Out of Worthlessness

    And so, five years after the day in the lab that started my journey, I abandoned my unhealthy quest for purpose and focused on accepting my true, inner worth instead.

    Countless times a day I affirmed: “I am worth.”

    I reminded myself of my infinite worth every time I felt useless. I repeated the affirmation when I struggled with my meaningless, aimless existence. And I tried to remember the truth whenever I beat myself up for not being important enough.

    At first my mind resisted, stressed by the change of priorities.

    Too many years it had held the belief that I was worthless, and that purpose was a prerequisite for worth and, ultimately, happiness.

    I ignored it as well as I could, stubbornly affirming my worth, over and over again.

    And step by step, day by day, my understanding of my true worth grew, and the compulsive need for purpose weakened.

    Until one day I was liberated. I felt free to explore my passions, enjoy all my unproductive hobbies, and fill my entire house with crochet doilies. Without guilt, without feeling I was wasting my time on idle indulgences.

    I even found joy in my profession as a scientist once the crushing pressure to achieve, outperform, and impress had been lifted. Once I no longer expected it to give me purpose.

    And I could relax. Knowing that, sooner or later, some purpose would reveal itself to me, without having to be forced, simply because I was focusing on the things I loved.

    The Liberating True Purpose of Your Life

    When I was convinced of my inherent worthlessness, I sought purpose as a means to deserve happiness, while I abandoned the things that actually made me happy because they lacked purpose!

    Looking back, the irony makes me cringe.

    I now believe the purpose of life is to be happy. To grow, thrive, and experience life to the full. To worry less about our achievements, productivity, and the meaning of our life and to prioritize the things we enjoy.​ Even if they serve no purpose at all.

    Because the only way to make your life matter is to make it matter to you. To know your true worth and contribute your unique perspective to this world.

    So, be kind and compassionate. Take care of your loved ones, and yourself.

    Help and support others. Not because you have to earn worth, but because you want to improve their lives.

    And do what you love as often as you can. Walk in the sun, sit on the beach, lie in the grass. Just because it feels good.

    Do it without feeling guilty or beating yourself up for the lack of purpose. Without fear over whether you are important enough, useful enough, influential, significant, or deserving enough.

    Because, at the end of the day, purpose can add to your happiness, but it’s not a prerequisite for it. You don’t need a mission, purpose, a direction for your life to be worth living.

    You don’t have to justify your existence or prove your worth. Not to your parents or your family; not to your friends, your boss, or society.

    Not even to yourself.

    Because you are worth personified. You matter. Right here, right now.

    And as long as you enjoy walking your path, no matter how aimlessly, your life has meaning.

  • We Get to Define Our Experiences and Decide What We Take from Them

    We Get to Define Our Experiences and Decide What We Take from Them

    “When something bad happens you have three choices. You can let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you.” ~Unknown

    It’s massively important how we define our world and the experiences we have in it. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to learn that early in my life.

    When I was twelve, my stepfather was a homicidal-leaning, violent alcoholic. I believe my mother must have suffered a Stockholm Syndrome kind of relationship with him. They were together for thirteen years even though they separated several times.

    He tried to kill us all on more than one occasion. Car … double-barreled shotgun … with his bare hands.

    Bill died of suicide some years after their divorce. “I’ll show you!” he said to his wife just before he jumped out in front of a speeding car on the highway. I felt sorry for the woman driving the car.

    I learned a specific lesson about defining an experience one fall day. We lived in Florida. It was drizzling rain on this particular Sunday. We were traveling from where we lived near the Atlantic coast in Cocoa, to visit Bill’s mother in Orlando.

    Bill had been drinking as he usually did on weekends. And, of course, when he drank, he often got belligerent and argumentative.

    We had to drive through a long stretch of swampy land, then we came out on open ranch land where Brahman cattle grazed.

    Bill and Mother argued. The four of us children sat quietly, afraid to move or say anything with the tension building in the car. Things could get ugly if he turned his attention to one of us.

    All of a sudden, the car swerved. It started to spin sideways in one direction, then all the way around in the opposite direction. It spun completely around three times, continuing down the highway, before it finally came to a stop.

    But when it stopped, we could feel the car teetering, rocking back and forth. We were precariously balanced on a culvert on the side of the road over a small creek.

    If the balance tipped forward it would flip the car over, putting us upside down in two feet of water.

    I sat there with my heart beating like a hummingbird’s for several seconds. A conglomeration of emotions exploded through my being. I couldn’t keep up with them. Each one was more intense than any feeling I’d ever experienced up until then.

    I knew that I dared not move. None of us could, or it could put us all in grave danger, maybe even drown us.

    Everybody in the car fell silent. All you could hear was the water trickling in the creek.

    The car continued to teeter.

    The emotions welling up inside me built to a crescendo. It was going to be impossible for me to contain them anymore. Something was going to express.

    But I was afraid. If Bill had a hysterical kid screaming behind him, in his present state, he just might literally beat me to death.

    Reason seemed to peel away the hysteria a little here and there until it all came down to two fundamental choices. I had to express something even if it meant flipping into the water.

    My choices were to let it fly and scream out—crying uncontrollably—or to burst out laughing.

    In that moment, I had an epiphany about life in general. I did have a choice. The emotions didn’t dictate my experience of life. I could make my choice deliberately. It had 100% to do with how I defined the experience. The experience itself was neither good nor bad. It just was. What was important was how I defined it. 

    And so, I made my decision. I relinquished all control and burst out laughing! I consciously chose to identify it as an exciting thrill that we’d all survived, rather than identifying it as the sheer horror I could have called it.

    My mom turned around, eyes wide in fear, not sure of how Bill would react. Apparently, I was the only one in the car who identified it as anything but terror.

    Bill turned around and stared for a second, then set about determining how we could all get out safely.

    That afternoon was sixty years ago, but I remember every detail of it. I’ve referred to it many times in my life.

    We have a choice in how we define our experiences. That decision changed the way I saw the rest of my life. I get to choose how I define the events in my life. We all do.

    Years later that experience led me to see other parts of my life from a healthier perspective.

    Growing up, I resented Bill for what he put us through. No kid should have to endure that kind of psychological and physical abuse. It ate at my heart.

    When adult friends discovered some of the things I experienced as a kid, they expressed indignation too. That reinforced my sense of misfortune.

    But I remember telling my wife about the spin-out experience one day and I had another insight. I listened to myself saying that I had a choice of how I defined my experiences. My perspective on my entire childhood changed in that moment. I had been defining it in a way that didn’t serve me. But I could change that, just by changing how I identified it. 

    Had it been scary staring down the wrong end of a double-barreled shotgun at age six?  You bet it was! Had it been hard grabbing my pillow, a change of socks and underwear and sneaking out the window to meet my mother and siblings at the car—on several different occasions—growing up? Only to wake up the next morning four states away where I knew no one? Sure.

    Most people would say I had a terrible childhood. But they don’t get to define it for me. I do.

    I learned how to be flexible, because I had to be. My life changed unpredictably. But I chose not to let that make me bitter and resentful.

    I learned how to keep my thoughts to myself when I need to. It came from a survival need and developed into a skill of diplomacy.

    I learned how to make friends easily, because I never knew when I would have to leave old friends and establish new friendships. So, I just became a friendly person with everybody around me.

    I learned how to adapt and learn new things. It was more productive than trying in vain to hold onto things that may not be possible to keep with me. I learned how to let go. I learned how to embrace new things in life.

    I learned how to appreciate people when they offer me help and appreciate my ability to help other people when I can.

    I learned how to love people and allow them to love me.

    I learned that negatives in life aren’t necessarily negatives.  How we choose to identify them makes things negative or positive.

    I learned that everybody has challenges that are hard for them. We can endure a lot if we choose.

    We get to decide what all that means. Life is simply what it is. We determine what we want it to mean.

    So, I urge you, the next time you’re scared or angry or worried, the next time life seems to be dishing out unpleasantries; the next time you feel like life has treated you unfairly; ask yourself, is there another way I can define this? A way that works better for me? A way that can serve me better in the future?

    It’s always your choice.

  • What to Do If You’re Tired of Feeling Half-Alive

    What to Do If You’re Tired of Feeling Half-Alive

    “Who you are is what you settle for, you know?” ~Janis Joplin

    I spent several years in a state of light depression without noticing.

    Why was it only “light”? Because I was functional: I went to work every morning, I managed to feed myself (mostly with convenience food, but still). My house was reasonably livable, though far from sparkling clean. And I wasn’t particularly sad, nor was I ever even remotely suicidal. It was simply like my life had been wrapped in a thick layer of cotton wool, with nothing much ever getting through to me.

    Why didn’t I notice? Because I told myself I liked it this way. I was honestly convinced that I was happy going to work every day, coming home in the evening. and then sitting down to read or play a computer game.

    I’d kicked my friends out of my life, and any required travel was an inconvenience, even if it was to see my family. I preferred being alone, and if it hadn’t been for my online gaming friends, I would have had no social contact at all.

    I’d become highly proficient at appearing “normal” to my colleagues at work. I even invented friends I was seeing at evenings or weekends so they wouldn’t think I was a loner. To be honest, I can’t even remember how I justified this to myself; in hindsight, it seems like I refused to even think about it. Denial can be one of the symptoms of depression, and I was very good at lying to myself.

    The Awakening

    There was an outward reason for my isolation, and that’s a sum of money I was paying back from a near-bankruptcy years earlier. I simply didn’t have the cash for a lavish wardrobe or nights out on the town because every cent I earned went into repayments. But that’s only half the truth—if I’d wanted to see friends, I could have met them for home-cooked dinners, after all.

    The truth is that I used my financial situation as an excuse, yet another reason not to see the depression that had swallowed me whole. Thankfully, the shell began to crack when this reason/excuse disappeared: I had finally paid back all my dues and began thinking about leaving behind my soul-eating, high-pressure job and moving back to the place where my soul feels at home: the West (of Ireland).

    I found a work-from-home role and made the big move across the country. I now had much less money every month, but you can’t possibly put a price tag on the quality of life in the absence of stress. I began to sleep better, eat better, take an interest in my environment again—it was like my entire being was breathing a slow, deep sigh of relief.

    In the following months, I re-connected with my friends, started dancing again (something I’d loved to do all my life, but “forgotten about” during the dark years), and, feeling rested for the first time in years, got curious about trying out new things.

    Healing Through Passion

    It took a lot of time. I needed to heal physically as well as psychologically; my body was in the worst shape it had ever been in, not just because of the pounds I’d piled on from all the junk food, but also from spending the last years in a sitting position, apart from walking to the car and back.

    I slept. I fell in love with whole, gorgeous foods. I took up mindfulness meditation. Then I slowly, very gradually started exercising, and when I say “slowly,” I mean five minutes of stretching on some days and nothing else.

    These first few months were mostly about well-being, feeling good and comfortable, which astonished me because I hadn’t even realized how long these feelings had been absent.

    As the healing progressed, my emotions returned. I’d been numb for years, but now I remembered that I’d always been a highly sensitive and highly emotional person. There were some very dark weeks to get through, in which I mourned all the wasted time and some actions I was ashamed of, such as not being there for my best friend when she needed me. Gradually, I made it through the swamp, and on the other side, I re-discovered my long lost enthusiasm.

    I have some rather unusual interests, and now I threw myself into them. I signed up for training in traditional archery and historical sword fighting. I kept exercising and dancing every day. Suddenly, I began to experience levels of happiness the likes of which I wouldn’t have thought possible a year before.

    What I’ve Learned

    I wish I could tell you that I lived happily ever after, but that’s just not how human lives work (and anyone who tells you differently is usually trying to sell you something). The point is not to be eternally joyful, in any case; it’s to experience the full spectrum of human emotions and to show up and sit with them as they occur.

    Striving for happiness and joy is a worthy pursuit, however. Like most things, it’s a habit that can be cultivated. I’ve learned that one shortcut to happiness is passion, or rather, radically prioritizing your passion (or multiple passions).

    I know this isn’t something that’s encouraged in our society. We’re brought up to be responsible and put duty first; work for a living, pay the bills, be a good citizen. While I don’t debate that these things are important, I’ll humbly submit that we’ve got the priorities wrong. What good is making a living when you’re just going to exist and survive, rather than thrive?

    The lure of mediocrity is strong. I see it all around and it’s most pronounced in my own story. If settling were an art then I’d be its master; I was prepared to settle for such a reduced version of my own life, I find it barely recognizable even from the distance of a mere three years.

    The Pursuit Of Happiness

    The way to fight this is to remember what truly matters in life. Our own well-being, our loved ones, and that elusive state, happiness. To leap out of bed every morning, looking forward to doing things that light me up, is something I’ll never, ever take for granted again.

    In order to achieve this state, we need to radically and consistently fight against the current that threatens to pull us back into settling. Life isn’t meant to be “all right” or “not so bad.” It’s meant to be ravishing, beautiful, and filled with joy.

    Whenever I feel myself slipping, I pull myself back up by putting a passion front and center. It takes some courage to say “no” to anything else until my passions are looked after, scheduled, and happening. Only then will I look at social commitments and distractions. The only thing I consider with a comparable priority to passion is my work—but then, the work I do today is a passion, too.

    I certainly don’t know everything, but I do know this: If I don’t fall in love with life all over again at least once a week, then I’m doing it wrong. It may feel like constantly pedaling a bicycle up the hill, but boy is the view from the top worth the effort.

    How You Get There

    If you feel like you’re just getting through your days, take some time to discover what needs to be in place in your life for you to prioritize passion. For me, it was the job and where I lived, but what you need to do might look completely different.

    Take some time to “audit” every area of your life—work, finances, self, relationships, health—and find out where you need to make changes in order to accommodate your passion(s).

    You may not be able to do everything at once, and that’s fine. It took a long time for me to be ready for my radical downsizing. You may also need to accept that there are some things you can’t change any time soon—if, for example, you’d like to move but you need to stay where you are for your family. The point isn’t to change everything, but rather to change something.

    Make a realistic plan to put all your steps into practice, and set down a time period for them too. Get the support you need, be it from a professional coach or from friends or loved ones.

    Just be sure to insert passion today while working toward your plan. If all you do is to plan, you postpone your joy to the future and never achieve it in the present moment.

    It’s always possible to find pockets of time. Be ruthless with this! Cancel other commitments if necessary, because your well-being comes first, and being joyful also enables you to be a better partner, parent, friend, or co-worker to others.

  • Why You Can Stop Searching for Your Purpose Now

    Why You Can Stop Searching for Your Purpose Now

    “The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt

    For some of us, like me, the question, “What is my purpose?” creates a ton of anxiety and a feeling that our self-worth is being undermined.

    It’s hard to escape this question because everywhere we turn, finding our purpose and living on a large scale seem to be the main themes of the day. The mounting pressure created by social media and the need to have it all figured out by a certain date exacerbate this search.

    I used to succumb to that pressure, until I said enough and changed my entire outlook on life.

    During my moments of deep reflection, I have found that the answer to this question is as fluid and as complex as life itself.

    Our purpose isn’t really one thing. I think our purpose is multi layered, rich and yet simple, and it should not be pigeonholed into one career or grand master plan, though some of us commit ourselves to one purposeful path. I also believe that our purpose can change throughout our lives.

    I believe that our deepest purpose is to discover our true nature, to cherish our true selves, to listen to the call of our soul, to heal the wounds that keep us in the shadow, to become more compassionate, to love the ordinary as well as the extraordinary, to serve, and to enjoy doing nothing from time to time.

    When we discover ourselves, our purpose reveals itself naturally.

    How do we discover ourselves? We experiment every single day. We become our own scientists. We start to pay attention to what brings us nourishment and joy. We pay attention to what feels natural. Purpose is not one thing; it’s everything.

    I like to call myself a lawyer by day and spiritual warrior by night, but the truth is that I am a light warrior all day.

    Despite the fact that my current career may not be the highest expression of my true calling, which is to teach, my current career has undoubtedly taught me many lessons about helping people, having integrity (go ahead with the lawyer jokes, I will laugh along with you!), becoming a great listener, and also counseling others.

    These are all virtues of a teacher, so even though I am not a full-time spiritual teacher yet, I still get to bring the energy of a teacher to my everyday life—not only in my job, but also in my home and family life.

    I am an aunt, niece, spiritual seeker, friend, sister, daughter, partner, and so much more. I am not just a lawyer. And I am living my purpose every day by bringing the qualities of a spiritual teacher to everything that I do and everything that I am.

    Our default thinking leads us to believe that having a purpose involves something on a grand stage or having a large audience with whom to share ideas, but that may not be your calling or your day-to-day purpose. Your purpose can be manifested in so many different ways.

    Take being a parent, for example. It’s the greatest job and blessing in the world. I am not a parent, but I have happily been involved in my nephew’s and niece’s life since the day they were born. I can appreciate the enormous responsibility one undertakes when they say yes to becoming a parent.

    Recently, I had this very conversation with my sister-in-law. She has a yearning desire to share a great message with the world and help others heal, but at the moment her hands are full because she is a super full-time mom. We came to the conclusion that her purpose right now, meaning today, is to raise four beautiful angels, which she is doing so beautifully.

    I told her I could not think of a greater purpose. Giving endlessly, serving, giving your heart, time, and energy to the well-being of precious souls. Perhaps a few years down the road that will change when she has more time on her hands. In the meantime, motherhood is teaching her many things that one day she may use to help spread her message.

    So even if you’re doing something you don’t want to be doing and you’re in the middle of transitioning to something else like me, your purpose is to be present to whatever is happening in your life right now.  

    Being present helps us learn about ourselves, because the truth is that we are always preparing for the next step, which is sometimes a mystery. So don’t take one second for granted. Every minute of your life means something.

    Another great piece to add to this discussion about purpose is patience. I never really understood divine timing until this year. I believe life unfolds perfectly for each of us. If we can stay present, our purpose will never evade us.

    I also believe that we do not arrive at one single destination. So, today, and only today, your purpose is to find as much joy and magic in the little moments as possible, even if you are having a tough day. This day is here to teach you something too. Your purpose is to find and honor the lesson. Your purpose is to allow your life’s plan to unfold perfectly for you.

    There’s no need to put more pressure on ourselves to think about our purpose because we can’t get there by obsessing about it anyway.

    Life is multi-faceted. You are a rich, dynamic, beautiful spark of life. You are not just one thing, and your life is not just about one thing or one career. You are so much more than that.

    So find your purpose in being a friend, daughter, son, partner, activist, or in being your own best friend. Find your purpose in loving who you are. You are an original creation and, I believe, here for a reason. You are here to do all the beautiful things that I just described, and to do them with intention and consciousness.

    The world needs you just because you’re here. Do not worry about the limitations in your head about time or age. You are here to contribute. You have your own unique expression, your own way of thinking, your own preferences, and your own feelings. Honor all of who you are. Walk down the street and smile. That may be your purpose for today. I assure you there are people that need you, and you them.

    Enjoy the mundane—the drive to work, the meal preparation, the chores. Connect with yourself daily, honor your feelings, and follow your inner guidance, your nudges. Life is always sending us messages.

    We do not need to look anymore or find anything. We came here to experience the gift of being alive and that is truly our purpose.

  • How I’ve Learned to Free Myself from Depression When It Hits

    How I’ve Learned to Free Myself from Depression When It Hits

    “No feeling is final.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke

    I’ve battled depression for most of my life. In my younger years, it gripped me pretty frequently. I was first hit with suicidal thoughts at the age of fifteen, and it scared the bejesus out of me. I was young and dumb and had no idea what was happening.

    When I was twenty-five it hit again. This time, however, I understood the cause. I was getting divorced, and my entire life was in turmoil.

    It was at this time that I decided that I was going to do something about it. So, I dove into the world of personal development. I read every book I could get my hands on.

    The following are some realizations I’ve had about depression and what’s helped me break free from it. This may not work for everyone, but perhaps there’s something here that can help you.

    Depression is like a Chinese finger trap: the more you try to get free, the more trapped you become.

    When I was younger, I would try to fight my feelings. I believed in facing my challenges head on. As any young man would do, I would see myself as the hero of my own story and depression as the villain.

    The last time it hit me, however, I wasn’t nearly as brazen. I laid in my bed and the feeling washed over me like a flood. One minute I was okay, and the next I was going haywire.

    All I could think about was killing myself. And the crazy part of that is that I had a great life, and that I didn’t want to actually do it. I just wanted the intensity to end. I wanted to be free from the feelings that penetrated everything I did.

    Depression is like a Chinese finger trap. The more you fight it, the more it gets you in its grasp. And the only way to get out is to do the very thing that you intuitively feel is wrong.

    You only get free from depression when you lean into it.

    I know that goes against every piece of self-help advice that exists. But depression is a different animal. You can’t positive-think your way out of depression because this kind of mental battle is a big part of what causes depression in the first place. Obsessing over your thoughts keeps you stuck in your head.

    It’s a trap of the most frustrating form because your attempts at defeating depression often serve to keep it firmly in place. In other words, your resistance to depression causes it to strengthen its grip on you.

    There is a concept in psychology and cognitive behavior therapy (CBT) called “exposure therapy.” The idea is that the more you expose yourself to the thing you fear, the less intimidating and fearful that thing becomes.

    I was able to get over my fear of snakes in this manner. One summer I made the goal to hike a certain trail near my house. However, the trail constantly had snakes on it, and I was deathly afraid of them.

    I didn’t want to give up on my hiking goals, so I forced myself to walk past the snakes. Eventually I realized that they are relatively harmless and won’t bother you unless you bother them.

    Do you fear your depression? I know I did, especially when it became so bad that suicidal thoughts would creep in. I would spend many a night in bed just lying like a brick, afraid to move because I was scared that I would do something to hurt myself.

    When you lean into your feelings, they dissipate.

    And thus is the wisdom of the Chinese finger trap. The only way out is to lean in. To stop fearing what you feel and start facing what you feel.

    When I started thinking about the things that may have been causing my depression instead of the things I thought could cure it, I got a better understanding of what my depression was.

    I saw that things like negative core beliefs and unhappiness with my career and finances were contributing to my depression, and that I needed to deal with those things. Depression, then, was more of a symptom of the real problem rather than the source.

    You don’t beat this enemy by fighting him. You beat him by standing in front of him and telling him that you are not afraid. And then you deal with the things that make him strong.

    I liken depression to a storm. It will hit you all at once, but it won’t stay around forever. If you wait long enough, the feelings will pass. And what is left after the feelings pass is in your hands.

    You can choose to let the storm of depression keep you in a depressed state even when the actual feelings aren’t there. Or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward.

    Leaning into your feelings releases their power over you, but you still need to wiggle yourself free after you release your feelings.

    This is probably the most important part of dealing with depression.

    It’s not enough to just face your feelings and lean into them. If you’ve ever played with a Chinese finger trap, you eventually realized that to release its grip on your fingers, you had to push them further into the trap. However, to truly get your fingers free, you had to wiggle them back out slowly.

    This is exactly what depression is like. You may not have control over when depression strikes. You may even need medication to deal with it. But you can control what you do when you’re depressed, and you can break free. I am proof of that. I’ve battled this feeling, this inexplicable feeling, for most of my life. But I now know what true joy and true happiness is.

    You can know joy too. You can get past depression when it hits. You don’t have to let it define you any longer.

    How do you wiggle free? I use a process of deep introspection, mindfulness, and work toward a powerful purpose in my life.

    At the root of my depression were the most insecure and sensitive things I thought about myself. This is true for many of us. These beliefs run under the surface of our psyche like a motor. Pay attention to the things that make you emotional and look for the beliefs you have about yourself that are behind them.

    For example, I used to feel shame whenever someone would single me out in front of others. While this is a common feeling for people, I looked for the belief that may have been fueling that. I discovered that underneath it all was an old belief from childhood: “I am bad.”

    Now, when I recognize that this belief is surfacing, I remind myself that it’s human to make mistakes sometimes, and that doesn’t make me a bad person. This prevents me from spiraling into a shame cycle, which can easily lead to a depressed state.

    You have negative beliefs about yourself as well, and, while it’s an extremely emotional process facing them, it’s also cathartic. Find someone you trust and talk to them about these thoughts and feelings. Or journal about them to understand why you formed them and how you can let them go.

    Another powerful tactic for wiggling free from depression is mindfulness. I like to solve puzzles or do something creative to take my mind away from the thoughts that depression causes me to have.

    Note that this isn’t meant as a way to avoid your problems. Depressed thoughts are like a tape that plays automatically in the back of your mind. When you immerse yourself in an activity, you interrupt that tape and break the negative cycle so that you’re no longer fixated on negative thoughts (which is akin to pushing your finger deeper into the trap).

    It’s also helped me to fix my finances. They say that money can’t buy happiness, but that’s not the entire truth. According to this study, our income can actually increase our happiness up to a certain amount, since it’s easier to be happy when we’re not struggling to survive.

    To fix my finances, I stopped wasting money on things that weren’t bringing me joy (such as a cable subscription) and focused on ways to increase my income. I learned pretty quickly that, although being rich doesn’t make you happy, I feel a lot more at ease when I’m not living paycheck to paycheck.

    Lastly, I’ve focused on finding meaningful work. One of the biggest culprits of depression is a feeling of hopelessness and despair. So, finding meaningful work or a deeply personal life purpose will do wonders. For more information on finding meaning, check out Viktor Frankl’s book A Man’s Search for Meaning.

    In my case, I found that the career I was in was making me more depressed. I was an engineer, but the long days sitting in a cubicle were driving me mad. I wanted a career where I felt like I was doing something that mattered.

    So, I went back to school and became certified to teach. I ramped up my writing career and started freelance writing. I did more of the work that I loved to do. When you do more of the work that you love to do, you become more of the person you want to be, which makes you a lot happier with yourself and your life.

    And that leads me to the final point…

    You are not your depression. You are the person who is feeling depressed.

    Until I realized this, I was seeing myself as a depressed person, and I was allowing it to define me.

    You are not your feelings. Stand in front of a mirror and shout that to yourself. Scream it to the world. You are more than that.

    You are whatever you choose to be. See the possibilities of who you can be and move toward those things. Don’t let depression beat you up and keep you trapped. The door is open. All you have to do is walk through it.

    *Disclaimer: Depression can have many different causes, and different people may need to take different approaches to healing. Don’t be afraid to seek professional help if nothing else has worked for you. There’s no shame in needing or accepting support!

  • What to Do If Your Life Story Depresses You or Holds You Back

    What to Do If Your Life Story Depresses You or Holds You Back

    “The truth you believe and cling to makes you unavailable to hear anything new.” ~Pema Chodron

    Too often we let stories from our past define us. We tell them over and over to ourselves and to others until it becomes our truth. What if, without deviating from actual facts, we choose to tell different stories? What if these new stories could bring us more freedom and strength?

    Below are some true facts about my own life. I’ll follow each one with the stories I could be telling myself about each one, followed by the story I choose to go with.

    Fact Number One

    My father abused my teenage mother when she was pregnant with me and left us when I was just a few days old. I’ve never seen him again.

    The stories I could be telling myself now:

    Men are bad.

    Men can’t be trusted.

    The reason I can’t hold on to a relationship is because my father left me.

    I’m unwanted.

    I’m unlovable.

    The true story I choose to go with:

    They were young. He felt trapped and scared. His fears drove him to behave very badly. He had his own issues from his own childhood.

    It sucks, but it doesn’t define me or shape my views of men or myself.

    If I’d held onto the negative self talk or views about men, it could have prevented me from being the happy, loving, loved person I am today.

    Fact Number Two

    In my tween / teen years my mother worked nights in a factory and I didn’t see her before or after school. There was never a parent attending my school music and sporting events or awards presentations and I found my own way home afterward, often walking back in the dark, freezing cold winters of Minnesota.

    I got myself up and to school on time, oversaw my own homework, dinner, and bedtimes, and often that of my younger brother too.

    The story I could be telling:

    My mother didn’t care about me. She was irresponsible. She put me in danger and neglected my needs.

    I have to fend for myself in this world or nobody else will. I need to look out for number one. This is why I’m lonely. This is why I never succeeded. I was handed a bum deal compared to my friends. I could have made more of my life if I’d felt supported and had good guidance at pivotal stages of my youth.

    The story I choose to go with:

    My mother was doing the best she could with what she had.

    Being very independent from a young age taught me responsibility.

    I’m truly motivated to be present in the lives of my own children, attending their events, encouraging and offering guidance. The past has made me a better mother.

    Fact Number Three

    The boyfriend I fell madly in love with in my twenties verbally and physically abused me until I was finally hospitalized with cracked ribs. I gave up my career and possessions in California to move to London to be with him. I knew nobody except his friends.

    The stories I could be telling myself now:

    History repeats itself. I was abused because my father abused my mother.

    I deserved it for being such an idiot.

    I’m not worthy of proper love and respect.

    Men are all assholes.

    The story I choose:

    I didn’t know my boyfriend well enough before I moved abroad to be with him. I felt unable to move back to the U.S. as I’d given up my job, home, car and life there. I continued to stay with him for too long out of fear and ignorance.

    I’m smarter now. I learned what I don’t want in a relationship and it enabled me to recognize what I do want and to find it. I’m stronger and I know myself now. I love myself. I am worthy.

    Do you know anybody who’s been dealt a crappy deck and now tells the first kinds of stories? Do they blame past circumstances for their present life? Do they begrudge the people who have mistreated them?

    Which stories from your past do you tell yourself and others over and over? Are these stories helping you or holding you back?

    Rewriting the script in your head isn’t easy, especially if you’ve been telling it for a very long time.

    Here are some ways to begin to dump the old stories and replace them with new ones.

    1. Recognize when you’re telling them and press your mental pause button. Stop giving it fuel.

    2. Write down the fact, as I’ve done above, then the story you’re presently telling. Now write a more positive interpretation of it. What good has come out of it? What have you learned? How would it feel if you dropped the old story and told a new one? Explore this on paper and see what it brings up.

    3. Use EFT Tapping. Emotional Freedom Technique is effective for bringing your story to the surface, getting real about your feelings, then changing the narrative about it. For deep rooted stuff, work with a qualified EFT practitioner.

    4. Practice “loving what is.” Have a notebook handy as you read the book Loving What Is by Bryron Katie. Write your answers to her four powerful questions. It only works when you do the work. This book single-handedly healed my relationship with my mother.

    Self-limiting beliefs often stem from stories you’re clinging onto that aren’t serving you. They hold you back from true happiness and success.

    Begin to bring a gentle awareness to these stories and see if you can give them new meaning. It isn’t about forgetting your past and making things up. It’s about choosing to tell the truth in a less victimizing and more empowering way.