Tiny Buddha

Tag: Mindfulness

  • Why Uncertainty Isn’t So Bad and How to Embrace It

    Why Uncertainty Isn’t So Bad and How to Embrace It

    Uncertainty

    “Trust the wait. Embrace the uncertainty. Enjoy the beauty of becoming. When nothing is certain, anything is possible.” ~Mandy Hale

    Sitting in the auditorium during orientation, I listened to various deans, distinguished alumni, and student leaders drone on about the rigors of earning a law degree.

    There were obligatory mentions of not everyone making it to graduation (or even the end of the first week) and of the intense strain on personal relationships.

    But the message I remembered most clearly was about uncertainty.

    “You better get comfortable with gray areas. And fast. Because the legal field is not a place where black and white distinctions often exist. If you’re a person who thrives on certainty and absolutes, you will be an extremely frustrated attorney.”

    Being a comparative religion and psychology double major, I dealt with ambiguity and the unknown a fair amount. But I wouldn’t say I was comfortable with them.

    I mean, is anyone really comfortable with uncertainty?

    And with that superficial examination of my tolerance for uncertainty, I trudged onward to lawyerhood.

    Unfortunately, I was decidedly uncomfortable with uncertainty.

    Although I always wanted to become an attorney, it was a relatively uninformed desire. But it gave me a goal to work toward—a path to freedom and financial independence beyond high school and college.

    Or so I thought.

    I dreaded going to class. I even contemplated dropping out. A lot.

    I worried that I’d lost my academic edge.

    For the first time in my life, I didn’t always have the answers when questioned by professors. I wasn’t engaged by the subject matter either. So I procrastinated, which made everything worse.

    Looking back, it’s clear I was in denial.

    I couldn’t even entertain the idea that law school wasn’t for me, let alone accept that I may be better suited to a different career. You know, admit that I had made a hugely expensive mistake, cut my losses and start over from scratch.

    So I did what any self-respecting high-achiever would do: I threw myself into my studies and made damn sure I landed a job after graduation.

    In other words, I did whatever I could to avoid the appearance of failure.

    Which meant I was a complete and utter control freak. And by control freak, I mean high-strung hypercritical crabby pants.

    (I’m sure I was an absolute delight to behold.)

    It seems crazy to me now that it took three agonizing years of law school, seven miserable years as an attorney, a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder, and a two-year battle with infertility to get me to realize that uncertainty is the only true certainty in life.

    Did I really need all that time and heartache to accept this universal truth?

    Apparently, I did. The religion scholar in me shakes her head.

    And even though I was finally able to acknowledge the omnipresence of uncertainty, I wasn’t immediately able to embrace it.

    It took a lot of yoga, meditation, acupuncture, psychiatry, and life coaching for me to see that I hadn’t ever escaped the discomfort of uncertainty. Despite my best efforts.

    I busted my butt in law school and landed a job offer before graduation, which was rescinded when the organization lost funding for my position.

    I planned out future pregnancies assuming I was a fertile myrtle like all the other women in my family, who didn’t have the rare birth defects I had.

    I slogged through my legal career thinking after “paying my dues” and earning six figures I’d finally enjoy my profession, only to feel more and more hopeless every day.

    And those are just some ways uncertainty bested me over the last decade.

    But thanks to the luxury of hindsight, I grew to embrace the inevitability of uncertainty, and the fruitlessness of trying to elude it.

    Yes, I had the rug pulled out from under me when my first job offer fell through. But I found a higher paying job within weeks of graduation, where I met my mentor and some of my dearest friends.

    Yes, I endured the agony of infertility for two years. But after corrective surgeries (that also improved my overall health), I became pregnant with a baby girl who has brought exponentially more sleep-deprivation joy into my life than all the despair caused by those years of infertility.

    And, yes, my childhood “dream” of becoming an attorney turned out to be a nightmare. But like a bad dream, I finally woke up and realized it wasn’t my future.

    Although my current career didn’t exist when I was a kid, I have a feeling that even if it did I wouldn’t have found it by following a structured path.

    Because uncertainty is not only inevitable, it’s necessary.

    If we really were able to control every outcome in our lives, we’d most likely never experience failure. Or be forced outside our comfort zone. Or discover something previously unknown to us (or the world!) by way of happy accidents.

    We’d never truly grow.

    So now when I feel the urge to control all the things, I do what sounds incredibly simple to most, but has always been difficult for me.

    I breathe.

    I realize “breathing” isn’t what most people want to hear. But learning to slow down and focus on my breath has been life changing.

    Plus, it’s science.

    I catch myself holding my breath all the time. When I feel the need to check in with my breath, odds are it’s because my body is tense from oxygen deficit.

    Our brains need oxygen to think clearly. And without sufficient oxygen, the brain goes into fight-or-flight mode. All too often my battlefield is the supermarket or a blog post—situations in which breath is preferable to adrenaline.

    And while I am an advocate for mindful breathing in times of uncertainty, I’m not saying it’s a cure-all for everyone in every situation. But you know what is?

    Again, it’s science. Studies show that regularly expressing gratitude increases feelings of happiness and well-being.

    I admit I was skeptical when I first learned about gratitude practice as a way to boost happiness. Especially since it advocates keeping a gratitude journal.

    I am such a resistant journaler. Which is strange because I’ve gained some incredible insights into my psyche through journaling. (Okay, maybe it’s not so much strange, as it is the very reason I resist journaling. Note to self: Work through fear of journaling…through journaling.)

    Luckily, keeping a gratitude journal is nothing like the feelings poured onto page upon page that I imagined. At least, it doesn’t have to be.

    My only rule is that I need to write down at least five things for which I’m grateful each day. Some days it takes me ten seconds, others it’s more like ten minutes.

    But that’s the point.

    Those days when feeling thankful isn’t easy are the days you need gratitude the most.

    Someday you’ll probably be grateful for the struggle you’re in right now. But until then, maintaining a gratitude practice will ease the discomfort uncertainty brings.

    Even if it does involve a journal.

    I sometimes wonder how my life would be different today if someone at my law school orientation had outlined some practical ways of coping with uncertainty—like basic mindfulness—instead of characterizing an aversion to uncertainty as a personality flaw.

    Maybe I would have embraced the certainty of uncertainty sooner, possibly avoiding countless hours of heartache and anxiety. Perhaps I would’ve had the guts to drop out of law school and avoid a mountain of debt.

    Or maybe everything would have unfolded in exactly the same way.

    And you know what?

    I’m okay with that.

    Man walking image via Shutterstock

  • 3 Keys to Jumpstarting Your Life If You’ve Been Living on Hold

    3 Keys to Jumpstarting Your Life If You’ve Been Living on Hold

    Excited Man

    “It is not uncommon for people to spend their whole lives waiting to start living.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    One key lesson I learned on my journey to developing my business knowledge base is that everything is built from the ground up, and each stage has important lessons for the subsequent stages. Sometimes we are only privy to the first stages.

    Other times, we only see the middle and final stages. These are the times when we are wowed at how fast things have happened for others, and we become insecure and worried about the pace of our growth.

    No one comes to Earth fully equipped with all the skills to make and sustain a successful business. For some, it takes years to even figure out what our business is. Plus, in this fast-paced world, we can quickly come to find out that there is no constant.

    We may be in one business today and another tomorrow. In life, as in business, we are challenged to constantly reinvent, identify what does and does not work for us, and find ways to enhance the things that do.

    Making successful life pivots requires an understanding that each phase of life brings its own set of challenges and lessons.

    We create space for joy through flexibility and a willingness to love ourselves in and through each stage.

    Too often we get stuck because where we are now does not look like we had envisioned. We waste precious time wishing things were otherwise, forgetting that we have the power to change our circumstances by merely choosing the way we interpret them.

    Sometimes we stop living, hoping that if we just get through now we can have the life we want. This sometimes painful process holds significant lessons for growth and development.

    This lesson in clarity and the importance of remaining in the now came to me while I was in graduate school.

    I remember rushing through college, just trying to get done so that I could move on to graduate school—all the while rushing to finish my thesis, then finish practicum, then finish my dissertation in the hopes that I could finally start living my life.

    I spent ten years of my life chasing the next starting point.

    I lived, ate, and breathed school, all the while neglecting those experiences that were happening around me.

    Opportunities to learn from others, and to connect and network with colleagues and friends in different fields, passed me by while I wished time would hurry up so that I could get started with my life.

    It wasn’t until I was about to complete graduate school with no real social life, no significant relationships, and no real plan that the realization hit me. I had pegged so much on getting done that I had no idea who I was and what it meant for me to be an individual outside of academia.

    As graduation neared, the pain of losing the structure hit me like a ton of bricks. I had relied so much on an institution to provide my social life and identity that living on my own terms elicited a truckload of existential angst and panic.

    Many nights, I would lie awake wrangling my brain to figure out where to go next and what I could make happen, neglecting the fact that life is a process and the universe takes care of you if you let it.

    What ensued was a frantic soul-searching and confidence-building initiative. Sadly, what had happened as I gave up my self-determination was that I lost confidence in my ability to make decisions.

    I didn’t trust myself to make the best decisions for myself because I had allowed the academic process to lead my life. I had become a bystander in my own life and climbing back was no easy task.

    In order to move away from waiting to live to living wholeheartedly I chose to:

    1. Acknowledge that while I was waiting, life was happening.

    The things I was waiting to happen were happening all around me; I was just not a part of them.

    Life doesn’t stop because we’re busy. Children grow up, family members and friends grow, and the world keeps turning.

    What happens in those moments can never be relived and regrets can never give them back.

    We can start to help this process by opening our eyes and hearts and paying attention to what is happening around us.

    While we might not be fully ready to wake up, realizing that things keep moving while we’re standing still may be the very thing that you need to cross over and start living the life that changes your entire being.

    2. Stop second-guessing whether I was on the right path; no experience is wasted.

    The emotion that we normally experience after realizing that life is passing us by is fear—fear that we have made the wrong decisions, that we have missed our calling, that where we are is not where we are meant to be.

    What results is a frantic searching for purpose. We begin to think that, because we have not been participating in life as we were thought it would look, we must be on the wrong path.

    While it’s true that we may not have experienced some things that may have had the potential to change our lives, careers, and family life choices, what we experience is what we are meant to.

    Every path brings its own purpose and lessons for growth and happiness. The issue is not whether the path is right or wrong, but whether we have been paying attention to the opportunities for growth that the path presented.

    Often, when we feel like life has passed us by, we have been awake at the wheel but paying very little attention to the lessons we were there to learn.

    3. Start living in the moments I had knowing that now was as perfect a time as any.

    As Eckhart Tolle wrote in his book The Power of Now, “Realize deeply that the present moment is all you have. Make the NOW the primary focus of your life.”

    Remember that you can’t go back and change the past. You can choose how you will live the moments in front of you.

    A decision to live these moments to the fullest will enhance your perception of the past and help you to identify the lessons that you can take with you into the present and future.

    The memories of the past all have a place, to teach you lessons to move you closer to where you can be your best self. Nothing else. Not regret, anger or animosity.

    Now provides the perfect opportunity to create the life you want. Take hope from the realization that now is the perfect time. It is all you have, after all. Do your best with it and live your life.

    Jumping man image via Shutterstock

  • How to Beat Panic Attacks: 3 Simple Mindfulness Techniques

    How to Beat Panic Attacks: 3 Simple Mindfulness Techniques

    “By living deeply in the present moment we can understand the past better and we can prepare for a better future.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    When I was in high school, a hit-and-run car accident changed my world. My boyfriend at the time lost his nineteen-year-old brother to the accident. I had never met his brother, but it didn’t matter; a dark veil had been cast over my life.

    In the days, weeks, months, and years following the accident, I sank into a deeper and deeper depression. I started to have panic attacks and I cut myself daily, trying to feel anything other than terror and despair. I sought treatment, met with therapists, tried dozens of medications, and routinely turned back to alcohol when nothing worked.

    Before long, I fell in love with a man who was also deeply depressed. Six months after our marriage, I found him collapsed on our living room floor after trying to kill himself by overdosing on his medication.

    I called the authorities, supported him through the ensuing hospital stay, and turned right back to my unhealthy methods of dealing with the pain.

    For years, I muddled through the darkness, thinking I was destined to lead a miserable existence. Over and over, I told myself life would have been so much better if that hit-and-run accident had never occurred. I was convinced it was the one pivotal factor that had destroyed my life.

    Eventually, the stress of living this way caught up with me. In addition to the depression and anxiety, I began to have migraines, uncontrollable nosebleeds, and excruciating muscle pain. I went to doctor after doctor and at one point was taking seven prescription medications every day, with no relief in sight.

    Finally, it was clear I needed to take a different course of action. I decided to look into meditation. Before long, I had accumulated three meditation methods to try.

    The first method was a simple practice of closing my eyes and counting each breath. I tried this until it became evident that I could never get past the number one before my brain started reliving events from my past. Closing my eyes, it seemed, took me too far away from the present moment.

    Instead of closing my eyes, I had more success keeping my eyes open and silently but consciously acknowledging my surroundings. Whether I was at home, on the train, or walking down the street, I could practice mindfulness by saying, “Hello, carpet,” or “Hello, tree,” and I was immediately grounded into the present.

    Perhaps it seems strange to greet inanimate objects, but it helped me maintain a more immediate experience of the present moment, so I went with it.

    After that, I tried body scan meditation, or moment-to-moment awareness of sensations within the body. Taking some time to recognize sensations as they occurred turned out to be a great help in training my mind to accept and acknowledge discomfort until it passed. Seeing that discomfort was a passing experience was a life-changing realization all on its own.

    Throughout my meditation experiments, I continued to have trouble staying present for more than a few seconds at a time, but I could see it was beginning to have some benefits.

    When I returned to counting breaths, I began to reach two or three or sometimes even ten. With growing faith that mindfulness meditation was having a positive effect on my life, I kept meditating until finally one day my meditation was interrupted by the sound of an ambulance siren.

    As I listened to the siren, I felt a panic attack coming on. The siren made me think back to the day of the hit-and-run accident, and when I finally let go of that thought, I thought back to the day of my husband’s suicide attempt.

    I braced myself against the panic attack and desperately tried to remember a mindfulness technique I could employ in that moment.

    During a panic attack, bodily sensations are extreme, so it made sense to me to try and focus on body awareness and how I was relating to my surroundings.

    Despite the inner voice that kept telling me I was going to die, I resolved to experience this panic attack mindfully, from beginning to end. I turned my attention to my breathing and faced that panic attack like it was an ocean wave I was going to allow to wash over me.

    While every muscle in my body began to tighten, I consciously tried to let go of the tension and simply notice what was happening in my body, without judgment or blame.

    Almost instantly, I experienced a massive muscle spasm that made my entire body lurch. Awareness of my surroundings became a feeling that I was falling through the floor, and I worried this really was the panic attack that would kill me.

    But then, the panic, the terror, and all that muscle tension passed through my body in what I can only describe as an enormous wave of energy.

    I felt that wave pass from the top of my head through every last finger and toe, and just as suddenly as it had begun, the panic was gone. As I returned to my breathing, I listened again to the siren and, for the first time, I heard a siren that had nothing to do with me or my past. I heard a siren that was a siren and nothing more.

    In the five years since this experience, I haven’t had a single panic attack. In my case, panic was an extreme expression of resistance to thoughts and memories I didn’t want to experience. When I learned to stop resisting, I learned to beat panic.

    I can’t guarantee that anyone else’s experience will be the same, but perhaps I can share some suggestions based on what worked for me. If you are one of the millions of people in the world who suffer from panic attacks, here are a few methods you can try the next time you feel one approaching.

    Counting Breaths

    Notice your breathing. Is it rapid and shallow? Is it becoming shallower the more you panic? Take a moment to close your eyes and turn your attention to counting breaths.

    If you find you are counting very quickly, see if you can focus on just one or two long inhalations and exhalations. Don’t worry if you can’t get past one or two. If you notice your mind has strayed from counting, congratulations! You have experienced a moment of mindfulness under extremely challenging conditions.

    Acknowledging Your Surroundings

    If, like me, you find that closing your eyes makes you panic more, open your eyes and start acknowledging your surroundings. Say hello to your hands, your feet, the ground, the ceiling, a chair, a tree, or anything at all you spot around you. If you feel like this is ridiculous, it is! Allow yourself to chuckle and have a sense of humor about it.

    Body Awareness

    Turn your attention to what you are feeling in each part if your body. Are your muscles tightening? Can you feel your fingers and toes? What happens if you try to wiggle them? Does the sensation change as you continue to breathe in long inhalations and exhalations? Whatever you are feeling, try to let it happen without resistance.

    —

    What I learned from my experience was a lesson I will not soon forget: I only found my inner strength when I stopped trying to fight.

    Panic gains momentum from the energy we put into fighting it, and the fact is, we don’t always need to fight it. Life happens to you and me as it happens to all people, whether we are ready for it or not, and all we really need to do is be open to experiencing it one moment at a time.

  • Release Your Anger by Choosing to Lose

    Release Your Anger by Choosing to Lose

    Surrender

    “Genuine forgiveness does not deny anger but faces it head-on.” ~Alice Miller

    I was quietly watching a documentary with my wife when the phone rang. An icy voice informed me that I was supposed to be at work at 6:00; it was already 7:00 PM. It was my boss.

    Great, that’s all I needed—an unexpected night shift with a resented supervisor.

    In my worst mood, I jumped in my pants at quantum speed and then ran toward the train station on the other side of the street.

    Although the road seemed clear, a car was approaching and the driver didn’t see me. Blame it on the text-and-drive trend. Things went in slow motion, the car wasn’t going to stop, and I was right in front of it. I heard a screeching noise.

    The driver, a guy in his thirties, had managed to stop just in time. His face was livid with shock, and he apologized as much as a man’s pride can decently allow it. But adrenaline had gotten me too furious to listen, and there I was, cursing the hell out of a dude I didn’t even know, very close to starting a fight.

    Sometimes you wonder where so many years of meditation have gone…

    Fortunately, I woke up to my senses. My rational brain got back in control; what was I going to do anyway? The poor guy had apologized, I didn’t get hurt, and no real harm had been done. I decided to give up and let him go.

    Now I was alone in the street. Alone, late for work, and still mad. And I only had thirty minutes to blow off steam before starting my shift. It was time to recall what I had learned about stress reduction. 

    I’d like to share the mindfulness tricks that I used that day to recover from this short burst of insanity. I hope they inspire those among you who unleash the dogs of anger a little too quickly, like me.

    Ground yourself.

    When angry, stop whatever you’re doing and fully open up to your sensations. Give yourself a minute to experience the physical buzz of anger—shaking hands, cold sweat, racing heart. Breathe deeply and bring your awareness down to each part of your body.

    Don’t worry too much if you experience confusion; meeting face to face with the brutality of anger is confusing. The first seconds of doing this exercise will be awkward, yet you’ll regain balance faster than usual.

    Learning to reconnect mind and body is the simplest way to pacify yourself. If you train that skill often enough, it becomes a sane instinct that brings you back to normal quickly.

    Watch the mental firework.

    Anger is a red comet leaving a trail of resentful thoughts. It often stirs up your own habitual rumination, and it’s easy to let it carry you away. Just remember that mental agitation is totally harmless as long as you don’t follow it.

    Let thoughts go, don’t engage in the “How could he be so…?” or “I should have told him…” type of thoughts. The chatter can happen without you, in freewheeling mode.

    Inner peace is not so much a matter of keeping your mind quiet; it’s about how comfortable you become with your own thoughts, regardless of how inappropriate they sound.

    Witness the show anger is giving and let it vanish slowly. Once again, it can’t harm you if you don’t take part in it.

    Offer a little compassion.

    The Buddha said that compassion is the best antidote against anger, but ideally you want to verify that claim for yourself. Your own experience will speak louder than a teaching given centuries ago.

    When you’re upset, practicing compassion means having the curiosity to watch your pain and the pain of those who made you angry.

    In my case, it was easy to relate to the distress of someone who almost ran over a pedestrian, even if I was the pedestrian.

    To put it simply: slip your feet in the other person’s shoes and imagine how it feels to be in their position. It’s probably the best way to dissolve hard feelings.

    Win by losing.

    While we’re often advised to be “stronger than that,” the macho approach doesn’t work too well with anger.

    Actually, anger intensifies when you try to dominate it. Your attempts at fighting aversion will strengthen it, so let it be.

    And when I say let it be, I mean decide to lose the battle, surrender. It sounds obvious, but the key to serenity is to stop the struggle—including the struggle to feel peaceful.

    I guess I should have started with that last piece of advice when scolding a car driver, on a nasty day. I’ll try to remember my own advice next time.

    Photo by Minoru Nitta

  • How to Deal with Regret: 8 Ways to Benefit and Move Forward

    How to Deal with Regret: 8 Ways to Benefit and Move Forward

    “Stay away from what might have been and look at what can be.” ~Marsha Petrie Sue

    When I look back at some of the most painful moments of my life, I see myself sitting alone, feeling either immense shame or regret.

    It’s bizarre how we can get so offended and angry when other people hurt us and yet repeatedly choose to torture ourselves, far worse than they possibly could, through repeated mental rehashing.

    For the longest time, my biggest regret revolved around missing out on life.

    From a distance, people always thought I had everything going for me. Up close, you could see the cracks in that facade. No matter what I got, I was painfully discontent and depressed, and often isolated in fear.

    I remember my last night in NYC at twenty-five, sitting in a tiny boxed-up efficiency studio apartment that I rented in a low-income building. I’d been in the apple for two and a half years, and my greatest accomplishments were barely noticeable to anyone but myself.

    Granted, they were big ones: I’d quit smoking, formed a yoga practice, and begun the slow uphill climb to liking who I was.

    But the list of what I didn’t do often felt far more compelling: I didn’t form many real friendships, I never had a storybook NYC romance like I dreamed about, and I never even once auditioned for a play after growing up on the stage.

    I went to NYC to convince the world I was strong, then I broke into a million little pieces and, in stubborn resistance to “giving up,” spent two years trying to glue myself back together.

    For a long time I regretted that I went to the city where dreams come true and did absolutely nothing to go after mine. Then I realized something: I was not that girl anymore, and in another second, I would again be someone new.

    At any moment I could let go of the weight of who I’d been and allow myself a better chance of becoming who I wanted to be.

    What I did or didn’t do could either paralyze me further or motivate me to do something now—something not conceived in reaction to past disappointments but born completely anew from a moment of strength and empowerment. (more…)

  • You Don’t Have to Let Your Anxious Thoughts Control You

    You Don’t Have to Let Your Anxious Thoughts Control You

    “Don’t wait for your feelings to change to take the action. Take the action and your feelings will change.” ~Barbara Baron

    As a child, anxious thoughts stopped me from doing a lot of stuff, so I missed out on sleepovers, parties, and scout camps some of the time.

    Anxiety whispered in my ear that it was always better to avoid, and so it became easy to convince myself I didn’t really want to do whatever was on offer. I now recognize those thoughts and don’t let them influence my choices.

    I remember as a teenager I went to a carvery with my friends, and when I queued up for my food I didn’t see the roasted potatoes. When I sat down I saw all my friends had roasted potatoes, and they were surprised I had none.

    The restaurant was full, and I felt too anxious to queue up again because I thought that people would look at me, which sounds crazy to me now, but I remember it very clearly.

    In reality, no one would have cared or even noticed had I got up and got some potatoes! My anxious thoughts forced me to go without.

    Making decisions has always made me feel anxious, as I constantly worried about what other people would think, and always allowed my anxiety about doing stuff to influence my decisions.

    Anxiety for me brings up feelings of helplessness, dread, and resistance. Helpless, as my anxious thoughts lead me to avoid what I want to do. Dread, as anxiety often makes things seem a lot worse than they really are. Anxiety has led me to resist many things I wanted to do and also to do many things I didn’t want to do.

    Dealing with Anxiety

    When I was eighteen I had the lead role in a play in a local theatre. I had never performed in front of many people before, so this was a huge deal for me. To my surprise, when the first night came I was not anxious but really excited and happy.

    This was a major turning point for me, and I realized it was because we had rehearsed and practiced so much that I was totally convinced it was going to be a success.

    At university, presentations made me feel highly anxious. People would often comment that as I had done some acting, presentations should be easy for me. That definitely wasn’t true.

    Public speaking is a very common fear and is something that I tried to avoid at all costs. After I finished university I did a master’s degree, and it was around this time I started to get interested in personal development. My book collection grew as I discovered the vast number of books that could help you with issues like anxiety.

    I began to realize that, even though I often had anxious thoughts, they didn’t have to control my choices and behavior.

    Now when I have anxious thoughts they often make me laugh, because I recognize them for what they are: just random thoughts from a part of my brain that never wants to do anything challenging or move out of my comfort zone.

    In the past, I was always worried about the future and never really focused on the present moment. Being mindful of what’s going on right now, and recognizing that thoughts are natural occurrences that you can choose to focus on or not, has really helped me to let go of my anxious thoughts and negative predictions about the future.

    As I studied personal development, I learned that you can change your mental state through your physiology, your body language, breathing, and speech.

    Making sure I stand up straight, control my breathing, speak clearly, and say positive phrases with real intensity changes my state. I do this when I am mindful that I have become worked up by some situation, and the anxiety of it is starting to affect me.

    Being aware of my thoughts and feelings, being mindful, and living in the present moment helps me live with my anxious thoughts. Changing my state has enabled me to get back to that feeling I had before going on stage, prior to activities which would have made me feel anxious in the past.

    After I finished my Master’s degree, I was astonished when my tutor invited me back to do some lecturing on the course I had just completed. I realized how far I had progressed in terms of dealing with anxious thoughts. And even though I immediately experienced some anxiety, I was able to realize that this was a wonderful opportunity for me, and that I would accept.

    During the following months, there were many times when I thought about the lectures and began to feel anxious. Each time I focused on how grateful I was to have the opportunity and what an amazing learning experience it would be. When I accepted that it would be a wonderful experience whether it went according to plan or not, I felt even more enthusiastic about it.

    “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” ~Samuel Beckett

    It seems to me that, like many others, much of my anxiety is born out of a fear of failing and being judged by other people.

    Since I started studying self-development and reading about people like Honda and Edison who failed over and over again, and attributed those failures to their success, I have become less afraid of failing. Failure is an important step toward being successful and the best way to learn valuable lessons.

    Another of the most important outcomes of coping with anxious thoughts has been that the more often I deal with them, the less afraid of them I become and the fewer I experience.

    That doesn’t mean I still don’t experience anxious thoughts from time to time, but if anxiety starts to build up, I address the cause of it straight away and do something positive to help the situation rather than avoiding. For example, before my first lecture I joined Toastmasters and made some speeches there, which helped prepare me and gave me confidence in my own ability.

    The most important lesson I’ve learned is that it is possible to experience anxiety without letting it play a major role in our lives. We can have anxious thoughts without letting anxiety control us.

    Photo by lian xiaoxiao

  • Go Do: Let Go of the Past and Future and Live in the Present

    Go Do: Let Go of the Past and Future and Live in the Present

    “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.” ~Einstein

    “Go do, you’ll learn to just let yourself fall into landslide. Go do, you’ll learn to just let yourself give into low tide. Go do!”~Jonsi

    I recently heard from a friend whom I had not heard from in over two years. He sent me an email just to check in and see how I was doing, congratulate me on my recent marriage, which he had heard about, and let me know that he had faced some hardship over the past couple of years.

    He had been, simply put, stuck. To my surprise, he also mentioned that some words I had sent him in an email, many moons ago, had stayed with him and encouraged him over the years.

    What were those words? “Don’t even talk about dreams. Think of it as actually the moment, the doing.”

    At the time, my friend was facing a very common fear: what to do with his life. He had dreams like we all do. He had goals he wanted to accomplish.

    This is something we all face at some point in our adulthood and with my friend, that fear of what’s to come, what may be, was holding him back from simply doing anything. In that way, he found himself feeling so stagnant that depression was taking hold.

    Funny, I had not remembered ever saying that. Nor did I recall our correspondence, but upon reading the words, I thought, Wow, I still say that to myself now! Keep doing… cause it’s all about the journey.

    These are all things we’ve heard before. I had said nothing new.

    The thing is, we all have dreams and goals. But when we get caught up in the small things around us, we forget the big things. At the same time, when there are so many big things to potentially bog us down, we forget to enjoy the small things in life.

    So how do we find the balance and keep moving? How do we have big dreams, and still obtain them? How do we experience the day to day? How do we go do?

    In my early twenties I was briefly married to a man who was one person before marriage and another person after. During our marriage he was extremely abusive, dangerous, and to be frank, downright selfish and mean.

    During that time, despite everything else going on in my life—the day-to-day stresses, hopes, demands, and needs—I was still in fear for my very own life, whether it was at stake in reality or not.

    At the time, I didn’t realize this fear.

    I spent three dreadful years married to this person and trying to do anything and everything I could to avoid being exactly where I was.

    I would come up with excuses to be out of the house or out of town. I was telling myself I would leave or that I could change my husband, and in the worst way, I was not allowing myself to emotionally recognize the true danger of the situation I was in.

    Why? Because I was terrified. Terrified my marriage would fall apart, terrified to tell my friends or family, terrified I would be looked at as the ‘poor victimized wife,’ and even more so, terrified to confront my husband for fear of what he might do.

    Had I known then how important living in the present was, I likely would not have stuck around in that marriage for so long.

    When we are in crisis situations, even stressful situations at work or school or at home, our bodies tell us to fight or fly. Mine did both while I was being abused. But more importantly, and on a conscious level, I was denying myself the one thing I needed most—to see where I was and accept it.

    I would not allow myself to see the danger and weight of the situation I was in. I feared the abuse and would not allow myself to face it because of my fear.

    Now, let’s take this example and move it into something perhaps a bit more relatable.

    Consider the stresses of a demanding job. Consider monetary problems—too many bills and too little cash. Consider a fight with a loved one or confusion on where to go in life or what to choose for your career.

    In any stressful situation, of the many and hundreds of situations that abound our lives, there is truly only one answer that I’m aware of that applies to all these open ended questions. That is: go and do.

    When times are tough it is easy to get caught up in the toughness and remain there.

    Whether that means you stick to your guns in an argument or ponder your dreams rather than take action, either way you’re stuck. You’re stagnant. But, if you remind yourself to go and do, then you move.

    I won’t say forward because I don’t know if we are ever moving forward; perhaps we are just swarming around in an eternal grain of sand. Perhaps life is just a string of present moments, neither past nor future. In any case, the movement, the doing, is the living.

    Had I allowed myself to be in the dangerous moments of my marriage, mentally accepted that my life was in a situation of abuse, and at stake lay my happiness, my well-being, my peace of mind, I would have not stayed stagnant in that marriage for so long. I would have made a change. I would have gone.

    Had my friend not spent so many years questioning what he should be doing, he would have just done.

    The key is to recognize every moment and keep moving.

    It is an oxymoron to be in the moment and always moving from the moment, but such is life and it is a truth that cannot be denied if we are in search of peace.

    The world is ever moving. Ever changing.

    Living in the moment means doing or feeling or seeing or recognizing what’s right in front of you. The important thing is to let yourself experience everything—the good and the bad—and once you experience it, then you let it pass.

    We get caught up in our pasts because we did not allow ourselves to live those pasts when they were present.

    Take my example. After finally extraditing myself from an abusive environment, I lived with PTSD for the following six years, reliving over and over everything that had happened to me once before.

    Take my friend; had he been doing and changing and living rather than pondering what’s to come, he would have done what he is finally doing now.

    Now he is just, simply put, exploring life. He is not setting ultimatums saying, “I must be here and have xyz by this point.” Rather, he is in the moment and recently took some time for himself, volunteering at a Buddhist retreat in California.

    Instead of worrying so much about where he would be, he is taking time to be now, living and relishing in his current situation.

    You have to live in the moment so that it can pass. You have to face your fears, so they too can pass. And since it must pass, we must feel its presence, good or bad, while it actually is present, for it too will haunt us, for better or for worse.

    Whether you are fighting abuse, fearing your future, worried about school or a test or a meeting at work, stressed about money, losing sleep over love, no matter what is on your mind at any given moment, the point is to be aware of what you’re feeling, what’s around you, and in all cases, to continue to go do.

    We so often get caught up in the stress, the worry, and in some cases, so caught up in avoiding the danger or real fear in front of us, that we forget to just live. So try to balance and stay on your bike. Remember to live each moment, let it pass, but keep moving and enjoy the next. As Jonsi said, just “go do.”

  • The “If, Then” Trap: How It Keeps You Unhappy and How to Avoid It

    The “If, Then” Trap: How It Keeps You Unhappy and How to Avoid It

    “Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness.” ~Chuang Tzu

    Being an empty nester (the kids have grown up and left home), I noticed recently that I have fallen in love with little kids again.

    After going through all the kid stages, and surviving them (most notably the teenage years), I took a long kid moratorium. Skiing, mountain biking, traveling, gardening, and reading—all filled to the brim with a commodity I had forgotten about: time just for me.

    Now, unexpectedly, they’re back! Exhausting, enchanting, and a source of endless inspiration.

    A few doors down to the west I have new neighbors—Parker, her brother, and her parents. Parker hollers my name when I drive by, waves vigorously trying to escape her car seat when her Mom drives by, and marches into my yard like she owns the place.

    Full of “What’s that?” and “Why are you doing this?” questions. Needs to show me—no, demands to show me—whatever she has in her hand. Where she got it, what it does, and why it’s so important!

    I’ll have to admit I was a little annoyed at this mini-interloper at first. But it didn’t take long before I was helplessly enchanted by whatever kid-spell she was weaving.

    Parker is full out in the moment, fun, and crackling with excitement. What I quickly noticed, staring back at me, was how I was not (fun and in the moment).

    Even though I subscribe to the practice of being present, it’s often more of an ideal than a practice. Every day there is the “to-do list.” What I need to get done, to keep everything moving, and (in my mind) to keep everything from falling apart.

    I plan, scheme and, okay, I worry about whatever is coming up next. Finally, when it’s all over and done with, there is a big sigh of relief. Now I can go on to the next thing. Yet, once I’m on to the next thing the cycle starts all over again!

    I’ve recognized that this daily trap can keep me from being truly happy and experiencing the fullness of being in the present moment. It’s what I call the “If, Then Trap.” It’s really a happiness trap.

    The  “If, Then Trap” goes something like this 

    If I can just get this finished, then I can relax…

    If I were home more, then the kids would be happier….

    If I had more money, then we would be happier…

    If I exercised more, then I would be happier with myself…

    If my son would only apply himself in school, then I’d feel okay…

    What’s interesting about the “If, Then Trap” is that it is just a story. It’s a story about what we have decided things mean.

    When I practice yoga, mediate, or just hike in the mountains, and quietly align with the present moment, what I notice is that there are no problems. Everything is perfectly okay! What’s extraordinary about this is that nothing has changed.

    So why is there a deep sense of contentment during these life-stands-still moments when the external circumstances that keep us caught up in drama remain the same?

    Here’s what I think: the mind chatter, the stories we tell ourselves, and what we decide everything means ignites emotions that are perfectly aligned with the story we have been telling ourselves.

    It’s a viscous cycle: interpretation, and an emotional response that feeds right back into the story, the story grows and the resulting emotions make us unhappy.

    Clearly, in the present moment, happiness just happens. Unhappiness is manufactured. Chuang Tzu was right:  Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness.

    As I finished writing this Parker appeared in my driveway.

    “What are you doing???” she hollered.

    “Writing about happiness,” I said.

    “Why? Happiness is easy!” she yelled, peddling out of sight.

  • Life Isn’t a Race: Allow Yourself to Be Happy in the Present

    Life Isn’t a Race: Allow Yourself to Be Happy in the Present

    Happy Guy

    “Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness.”  ~Chuang Tzu

    At an early age I learned that nothing in life is guaranteed. When I was eleven years old, a close friend and classmate lost his battle with cancer. After that, I had several more instances of losing loved ones, some expected, others not so much.

    After having gone through so much loss at such an early age, my outlook on life was one word: rushed.

    I wanted to get through college as fast as I could, while taking on as much as I could. I wanted to have meaningful relationships and foster my athletic abilities. I wanted to get out into the real world and have a great job where I felt like I mattered, and made a difference.

    I had graduated college a semester early, and I was blindsided by how seemingly cold the real world was and by the fact that I had all of these dreams with little to no understanding as to how they were going to come to fruition—as fast as possible.

    After all, time was of the essence because I could die tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that… (What twenty-something year olds think like that?)

    With the economy on the decline, I was only able to find a job at a nearby hospital as a transportation aide. This basically entailed bringing patients to and from their appointments within the hospital.

    While I did enjoy certain aspects of this job, such as trying to make each and every person I transported smile during their otherwise not-so-great day, the attitudes of fellow hospital staff left me feeling worthless, as I was mocked by physicians and nurses for no other reason than my job title.

    As months crept on, I became seriously devastated at the thought of my future success being delayed any further. It was hard to feel like success was on the horizon when those who were supposed to be my “teammates” were treating me so poorly.  I was genuinely distraught over the uncertainty of what tomorrow was going to bring.

    I tried my very best to trudge on, with the sole thought and hope that “surely another career wouldn’t be like this, right?”

    About six months later I was offered a different job. It wasn’t exactly like my previous one, but left me feeling once again like I was on another rollercoaster ride, this time with a healthcare consulting company.

    When I was offered this position that would have me relocating to Pennsylvania, I packed my bags as quickly as I could. I seized the moment, not knowing when another opportunity would present itself.

    In this position I had effectively transitioned from a job that required direct interaction with patients, to a role that was focused on how hospitals and medical groups financially managed themselves.

    While my previous critics during my time as a transportation aide would have deemed this job title more favorable, this consulting position did not leave me feeling any better at the end of the day.   

    Now, I was boots-on-the-ground implementing change within an organization, with one major problem: my boss was one of the most despised people at the hospital.

    This left me putting out fires at every turn, and put me in a position where I felt forced to back certain causes I didn’t truly believe in because I was told to “step up, or step out,” by the management within the consulting company.

    During this time, I was spending ten to twelve hours a day at work, getting nothing more in return than feeling emotionally and mentally drained at the day’s end.

    While I did have a small group of friends in the area, I wasn’t close to any of them, as this group of individuals primarily focused on surface-level relationships and drinking.

    To fill any remaining time I had available to me, I began training for an Olympic distance triathlon.

    More or less, I threw all of the things that I felt I needed to achieve to feel happy in life up in the air, hoping at least one would catch, but none of them did.

    My failure in this approach was that I was running—not just in a “hey, I’m training for an Olympic distance triathlon” kind of way, but in an “oh-my-gosh, I’m terrified to leave any amount of time free because if I truly take a step back and look at my life, I will realize how unhappy I am and how unimportant all of this is” kind of way.

    I was cramming my days so full in an attempt to truly experience the world like my other friends and family members never had the chance to, and in doing this, I wasn’t actually experiencing anything at all.

    I didn’t know who I was, and I most certainly didn’t know what I wanted.

    Fast forward a year and a half and here I am, now located in Boise, Idaho, where I have relinquished “striving for happiness,” because happiness is not something you strive for.

    When I moved to Idaho for another job opportunity, I decided not to fill all my downtime like I had in the past.

    At first, I felt truly and utterly alone. Things were quiet, and it became apparent that in trying to experience everything around me and check items off of my bucket list, I had neglected to cope with several past experiences.

    The loss of loved ones, the ending of relationships, and past decisions that did not suit me all haunted me in my downtime.

    Through counseling and deep self-reflection over the past several months, I have been able to resolve many of these feelings and have learned, among other things, that happiness is something that already lies within us.

    It is a personal choice, however, whether or not we allow ourselves to feel it.

    I believe happiness is choosing to let go of those situations and people who do not suit us personally. It is living in the moment, rather than, in my case, living in fear that the moment is going to be over before I’m ready.

    It is here that I have allowed myself to only invest time in what truly interests and suits me, rather than what I feel obligated to achieve.

    I have made time to enjoy exercising, to cherish my family and friends, to read and write, and to enjoy the simplicity of life rather than stress over all of life’s complexities. In realizing how much I have missed while running from my past and planning far into the future, I have become truly present.

    We all have the ability to enjoy our lives, but it can’t happen if we’re racing toward the future. If we want to be happy, we have to choose to create happiness now.

    Photo by rusticus80

  • Mystical Moments: 10 Ways to Feel More Engaged and Alive

    Mystical Moments: 10 Ways to Feel More Engaged and Alive

    Meditation

    “Your daily life is your temple and your religion. Whenever you enter into it take with you your all.” ~Kahlil Gibran

    I had to learn the hard way that you don’t have to walk across hot coals or move to the desert and eat locusts and honey in order to have a mystical, life-changing experience.

    As a young man I was anxious and driven, always looking ahead to another goal, always hoping to find some ultimate experience. I believed that life was a challenge that needed to be constantly tackled. Often, this meant feeling overworked and pulled-apart, and I failed to enjoy the journey of life.

    I joined the Peace Corps with the naïve goal of saving the world and finding some kind of grand purpose. Instead, the complexity of our world’s problems befuddled me.

    I went abroad to help people and they ended up helping me.

    Growing up surrounded by wealth, I didn’t understand true kindness until my poor neighbors shared their simple meals with me. Raised in a culture where we are encouraged to hoard our wealth, I did not understand generosity until strangers welcomed me into their crumbling homes and offered me gifts right off their shelves.

    As I’ve gotten older, had kids, and experienced successes and failures, I’m still learning that the true measure of our lives is the way we enjoy the simplest experiences.

    Perhaps the gap between rich and poor does not matter as much as the gap between those who can enjoy the moment and those who can’t. And this is what the great mystics have always said.

    After trying to climb mountains, I learned that sometimes the simplest, most down-to-earth things, like how you eat an orange or enjoy the smile of a child, are the moments that make life amazing.

    A mystical experience is any experience where you pause and touch the perfect, wonderful present moment in a tangible and fresh way. Life is full of great opportunities. Be an instant mystic. Here are ten simple ways (nudity and drums optional).

    1. Play with a child. Play like a child.

    Children are the ultimate Zen masters. They come out of the womb fully enlightened, completely living in the moment, taking every experience in without all the extra layers of thought and worry we pile on. Then, sadly, they become adults.

    But you can get some of this back by dropping the rake, the bills, and the dishes in order to push toy cars, throw leaves, and make snow angels. Lose yourself in the moment. Act silly. Make a fool of yourself.

    Mystics often are mistaken for idiots. No kids available? I can loan you three, or I’m sure you have a friend or neighbor who would oblige as well.

    2. Laugh hard.

    Humor is a great way to shake off painful emotions and transcend the everyday.

    After a tough day, my wife and I will hit the internet and watch a few Saturday Night Live skits or some of the Colbert Report just to loosen us up and remind our heads that life should not be taken too seriously. A family tickle fest never hurts either.

    3. Attend a new spiritual service.

    Historically, church functioned as a weekly stopping point for people to reflect and connect. That’s great. But church can become a rut, especially if you go every week to hear the same book read by the same person who usually says the same stuff.

    Try a new service. Unitarian. Wiccan. Buddhist. Catholic. I recently tried out a Quaker service. We sat in complete silence for an hour. At first, I was petrified. I wanted to run out screaming. But then I settled into this beautiful state of relaxed peace.

    4. Read a mystical book by an enlightened person.

    There are so many great spiritual books out there that can help you step out of your frantic, everyday life and get you to look into to the soul. Eckhart Tolle is a current best-selling author with lots of good stuff. Fr. Anthony DeMello’s Awareness is wonderful and challenging. I love reading Allan Watts as a way to stretch my spiritual imagination.

    Pick up a Zen book, like Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, and puzzle over some of the classic riddles (called Koans). Or grab a classic in mystical living by the likes of Brother Lawrence, Meister Eckhart, Rumi, or Lao Tzu.

    5. Walk alone in the woods or by a river.

    No headphones. No talking. Walk slowly. You’re not working out your body; you’re working out your soul. Use a simple mantra or mindful phrase, like “In-Out, Deep-Slow, Calm-Ease, Smile-Release,” to stop your incessant thinking.

    Spiritual master Krishnamurti once summarized the essence of all mystical practices in two words: “don’t think.” When you’re alone in nature, your ego falls away, leaving you with yourself.

    6. Stargaze.

    Head to the country at night and lay out under the sky. Stargazing is a great way to remember the vastness of the universe. Inside us is that same vastness. We are made from atoms that were once part of the cosmos.

    Being mystical is not about floating away on a cloud of euphoria. It’s about fully being in the perfect moment. The stars are there every night. Are we?

    7. Listen to a great symphony or opera.

    A mystical experience can be any experience that forces you to slow down and activate new parts of your brain, triggering insight and expansive thinking. I love indie-rock, but after a long day of work, music without words gives space for my spinning brain to slow down.

    8. Fast.

    Fasting has been used as a mystical practice for centuries by nearly every tradition out there, and that was back when food was hard to come by! It’s a great way to test your self-control, learn to deal with difficult feelings, let go of ingrained habits, and commune with those less fortunate in the world. And it’s free. (Of course, with eating disorders on the rise, please make sure this practice is right for you by consulting with your doctor.)

    9. Volunteer.

    Get outside of your life, literally, and wrap yourselves up in someone else’s. I recommend spending time with the elderly, people who were alive before iPhones and Google (hard to believe). Consider not telling anybody what you’re doing; otherwise, volunteering just becomes another way to strengthen the ego.

    10. Meditate.

    Meditation is the mystical practice used for millennia by countless great spiritual thinkers. It’s been proven by scientists to extend life and increase happiness. Isn’t it worth giving a try?

    Stop your mind for a few moments. Look for the one inside you who knows you know. Count your breathing. Use one of Thich Nhat Hanh’s simple mindful meditations: “Breathing in, I smile; breathing out, I relax.”

    By meditating, you change yourself and the world. You transform your soul with silence and transform the planet by creating a small, but powerful, pocket of peace.

    If you really struggle with sitting still and calming your mind, use some light yoga. There are many great instructors out there who combine meditation techniques with yoga. Try ten or twenty minutes for a few days in a row. Notice the changes. You’ll be surprised.

    A mystical moment is simply any moment when you are fully alive, in the present, embracing what is happening. Doing dishes can be a mystical experience! But if all else fails, there’s always sitting naked in a cave beating a drum.

    Photo by Cornelia Kopp

  • Learning to Enjoy the Process and Stop Worrying About the Outcome

    Learning to Enjoy the Process and Stop Worrying About the Outcome

    Happy

    “Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you” ~John De Paula

    Remember the Tasmanian Devil?

    That crazed Loony Tunes cartoon character spinning out of control, crashing into everything in his path? Arriving in a blur. Leaving chaos in its wake.

    That was pretty much me and my approach to “living my passion.”

    This is hard to write but here goes (deep breath)…

    Not too long ago I was seriously trying to accomplish all of these things at the same time:

    • Play in a rock and roll band of middle aged men living in New York City, rehearse regularly, play live shows, tour, and still play dad to a family of four.
    • Engineer and produce our own albums while simultaneously attempting to produce other artists to help them realize their artistic vision
    • Start my own blog to inspire awesomeness in other creators
    • Guest post for major blogs and write epic content regularly to help their audience and build up my own blog audience
    • Shoot my own videos, create graphics, and edit them (though I have little to no skills in any of these areas) for my blog
    • Write a novel and multiple eBooks
    • Design cool music themed apps
    • Stay gainfully employed (a day job I desperately wanted to quit to make more time for all of the above)
    • Practice meditation and find the deeper meaning to my life

    The idea was that my brilliant plan would eventually pay off and sustain my family completely so that I could:

    • Pay a New York City mortgage
    • Put food on the table
    • Make time for my two young children
    • Spend some quality alone time with my wife and stay married
    • Have the freedom to create more awesome art

    So how did that all work out, you might ask. Total disaster. Here’s a glimpse into my crazy Tazmanian lifestyle:

    I would commute to my day gig and write blog posts while standing up on crowded subway cars. I’d come home and have a quick dinner, hang out with the children, and pretend to listen as they would excitedly recount their day. But I wasn’t really present. Then I would dash off after their bedtime to my studio man cave to work on my music until the wee hours.

    Then I would collapse into bed every night, only to get up a few hours later and do it all over again. At the end of my self-imposed exile of several months, I would finally return home victorious, the proud father of a shiny new CD.

    But there was no applause in my household. Only a very chilly reception from an ever more distant wife who understood my passion but couldn’t accept its all-consuming nature or my many frazzled creative endeavors.

    Then I would spend the next few months trying to stitch back together our relationship. But the chasm between us was growing and heading to the point of no return, having repeated this scenario at least three times before since we had known each other.

    I knew something needed to change, and quickly, if I was going to try and stay married.

    How did I arrive here, you might ask.

    Simply put, I became a casualty of the Digital Revolution. A world where faster is better, multi-tasking is the national anthem, and technology will set you free to be more productive and make you more intelligent.

    Where you don’t need human interaction anymore. You can simply “connect” to your global audience, which was almost as good as being there with them.

    Except that it’s not.

    I was duped into believing that I could accomplish so many more tasks with all this technology and achieve incredible feats by simply sitting in front of a computer screen.

    I was also following several successful bloggers and online marketers and learning everything I could from them. But this only amplified the delusion that I could accomplish all these things at once because they had done it.

    Only all those marketers seemed very focused on just one thing and they were doing it really well. The problem for me was that I had many irons in many different fires and none of them were getting very hot.

    I call this The Flailing Effect.

    But thank God (or Buddha as it were) that somewhere in the midst of all this chaos I began practicing meditation. You could say I finally caught my breath. I quickly began to slow down and see a different perspective.

    It didn’t happen overnight. There were no tectonic shifts in my crazy lifestyle. In fact, I had to get up even earlier to now fit my meditation into my already insane schedule.

    But it was the best thing I ever could have done.

    Slowly, through the practice of quieting my mind, I began to find clarity.

    I clearly saw my attachment to this desperate need to accomplish something important in this life and be recognized by the world for it; and how these external accomplishments would somehow validate me as a person, as though who I was already wasn’t enough.

    It didn’t take long before I recognized the insanity in my ways.

    It became clear that I really needed to define what I wanted my life to stand for. Then I needed to eliminate everything else that didn’t serve that end.

    But the most important discovery was learning to finally let go of all expectations that any of these aspirations needed to come true. Or if they were meant to be, I needed to stop worrying about when they were going to happen, which it turns out was a huge source of frustration.

    Attachment, worry, frustration—these things don’t exist in nature. Things unfold as they are supposed to in nature.

    Sometimes the rains come. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes one storm can change the course of millions of lives in just a few minutes.

    A river runs its course based on the lay of the land. When it meets an obstacle, it doesn’t fight with it. It simply goes around it…eventually.

    How long it takes is of little consequence. After some six million years or so, it might carve something as magnificent as the Grand Canyon. Nobody’s watching the clock in nature.

    A tree is happy wherever it grows. It doesn’t secretly wish to sprout legs and run off to some other more happening part of the forest. (Robert Frost wrote a pretty great poem on this subject.)

    In Buddhism, they call this patient acceptance.

    Life happens in spite of your wishes. This is the nature of all things. When I began to accept this, my frustrations started to melt away.

    When you can see yourself as a part of that nature, not separate from it, and start behaving as nature does, you will become more peaceful.

    I’ve learned to embrace the work now.

    The day to day. Nothing else matters, except my family. When I’m with my kids or my wife now, I try to really be present, to enjoy the now in each moment.

    When I finish a post or a song after many hours of editing and polishing it to a fine shine, I can stand back and smile. Another child is born. Then I put it out into the world.

    I do wish for it a happy, prosperous life as any father would. I just don’t worry so much any more about how it all turns out.

    It all turns out fine.

    Photo by Nguyen ST

  • 7 Benefits of a Surprisingly Simple Meditation Technique

    7 Benefits of a Surprisingly Simple Meditation Technique

    “Our way to practice is one step at a time, one breath at a time.” ~Shunryu Suzuki

    I blinked my eyes, wiggled my toes, and carefully heaved my right foot out from under me. It had gone completely numb after twenty minutes of meditation. I prodded it tentatively.

    “The idea is to be able to meditate wherever you are,” our teacher said, pouring out some green tea as we stretched, “to be really present in whatever it is you are doing—cutting the lawn, doing the dishes, whatever it is. To simply breathe in…and out…and just be.”

    “You don’t have to sit still,” she continued, “you can do ‘moving meditation.’ It can be done through yoga, or any other form of movement. People do it in many different ways—swimming, cycling… Don’t tell me people who go walking aren’t meditating.”

    I was now rubbing my foot, which was tingling with pins and needles, but was distracted by the revelation.

    Moving meditation! Of course!

    I thought back to all the walks I’d done through the British countryside.

    It was true: walking was meditation, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

    As I left the class, I thought about how walking had taught me so many important lessons; and most importantly, lessons I learned in my body and not just my mind.

    So if you can, I’d encourage you to get out of the city and go for a walk.

    Here’s why:

    1. You will learn to cope with the ups and downs.

    There are times when the going is easy, where you run for the sheer exhilaration of it.

    But you’ll discover inner reserves of strength to cope with the pouring rain and the difficult climbs, and appreciate the blue skies even more.

    2. You will learn that small steps quickly add up to a big achievement.

    When I was pregnant, I had muscle pain in my hip, which made walking extremely painful. I ended up on crutches, taking the tiniest step after small step in agony.

    It took me forty-five minutes to walk a route that usually took ten.

    But I knew I would get there in the end if I just kept moving, because, as my dad always says, “Just remember, all you have to do is get one foot in front of the other.”

    And then do it again.

    And again.

    It feels like glacial progress when you’re in the middle of it.

    But when you look back, you will marvel at how far you’ve come.

    3. You will learn that sometimes, the path ahead is unclear.

    This is when you have to really be courageous, trusting your intuition and experience to find the right path, and finally coming to a decision, and moving on.

    4. You will learn flexibility.

    Often when walking, you have to change your route because the weather or other unexpected obstacles can dash the best-laid plans.

    You will learn to shrug your shoulders, go with the flow, and adjust.

    5. You will learn to keep going, no matter what.

    It’s called perseverance.

    When the climb uphill seems endless and painful, you remind yourself that the pain is temporary.

    You know from doing this countless times before that it will be so worth it in the end.

    6. You will learn to appreciate every sparkling, unique second.

    When you’re walking, your senses are alert. You are truly alive.

    You notice curious birds hovering overhead, a blade of grass fluttering in the breeze, the sounds of a trickling stream, the shape of the cloud, and the way the wind ripples the water on the lake.

    You will marvel at how the combination of all these things on this particular day at this particular moment will never again be repeated in the entire history of the universe in quite the same way, and feel so grateful.

    Others may be making the same journey as you, but the paths they chose to the top may be different. They’ll see different things, and experience the day uniquely.

    No one will ever experience this moment in the same way as you.

    7. You will learn the importance of the journey.

    They say when you’re having fun, time flies.

    But I think that’s wrong, because when I walk, time seems to slow down.

    I absorb so much, notice so much, simply be so present in the walk that I feel like I’ve been walking for hours when in reality, only a short time has passed.

    Actually, it is when I’m in my normal routine in London that the days whiz by in a flash, and I wonder what I’ve achieved.

    The familiar surroundings, the concrete of the city, the crowds of rushing, stressed out commuters—meditation is certainly possible in these circumstances, but for a stronger will than mine.

    In the city, we are so focused on achieving our goals that our mind is often totally focused on our plans for the future. When we reach one goal, we think “Right, done, what’s next on my to do list?” We rarely sit back and take time to enjoy the journey.

    As my meditation teacher says, “We are human beings. Simply be.”

    Walking is the best way I know to experience this.

    Why not try it?

  • 3 Obstacles to Living in the Now (and How to Get Blissfully Present Again)

    3 Obstacles to Living in the Now (and How to Get Blissfully Present Again)

    “Never underestimate the desire to bolt.” ~ Pema Chodron

    I have been trying this present moment awareness thing for a while now, about two years, and I have to say, it’s not going quite like I expected.

    Somehow I got it in to my silly little head that after a while I would stop bolting from reality and I would just be present all the time, with complete effortlessness. Wrong.

    And if there was any lingering doubt as to the flaw in my plan, I then read a number of accounts by people who have been practitioners of present moment awareness for something like twenty or thirty years, and they said they still run away from the present moment sometimes. Damn.

    So clearly my unreasonable expectations have got to be changed.

    I also noticed that since I have been doing this for a while now, the why and how I flee the present moment has changed.

    I used to flee in overt and rather extreme ways, and still do sometimes, like binge eating and excessive TV watching.

    But now that the more extreme behaviors have lessened, bolting from reality happens in much more subtle ways, usually obsessive thought. Here are the three most common ways:

    1. Lack of compassion.

    People do things that tick me off. It’s just a part of life. Anger is a naturally occurring emotion; there’s nothing wrong with that. Where it becomes a problem for me is when I get lost in that mental commentary of “what they did and how awful it was.”

    This track of obsessive thoughts can go on for a long, long time. And when I am stuck in that story of “what they did and how awful it was” I am nowhere near the present moment.

    I don’t have to like everything everyone does. I need to be honest about my anger and feel it. But that story about how stupid and pathetic other people are keeps me in my unhappy mind and not in the present moment.

    Solution? When I remember what I struggle with—my flaws that are most embarrassing to me, that I dearly wish would go away—then I can get in touch with the part of me that needs compassion. And I can feel how painful it is for others to stand in judgment of my flaws.

    The secret is that the part of me that needs compassion is the same part that can give it to others. Remembering specifically how I’m not perfect helps me have compassion on others, and that works to break the spell of the “Unhappy story of what they did.”

    2. Lack of gratitude.

    I recently read that the brain, being a problem-solving machine, has a natural negativity bias for the purpose of identifying problems. That’s great. What’s not great is spending all of your time in your head instead of living in your immediate life experience.

    When I am stuck in my head instead of being in my present moment, my whole life becomes a long stream of obsessive thoughts about “my problems.” I focus on what I don’t like about a situation, what I don’t like about my reaction to that situation—and here is the important part—to the exclusion of everything else.

    Solution? Making the conscious choice to find the good stuff—to identify the things that do work out and what I did get right—makes a huge difference in breaking the spell of “everything sucks.” This helps me see my present moment for what it really is: some stuff I don’t like, but mostly lots of good stuff.

    And there is always good stuff, I promise. Here is a tip: if you cannot think of any good stuff, think of how it could be worse. For example, you could have no limbs or live in a far more dangerous part of the world

    3. Panic.

    When I realize I have been absent from myself, coming back home to my present moment experience can be a struggle. And it can take a long time, because there is panic in me over the idea that I have “done something wrong,” which creates a striving and straining to “do it right.”

    Typically, I over think it, try way too hard, and make it some kind of contest, although I have no idea who I think I am competing with or what exactly is the rush when I tell myself things like, “Hurry up and get back in the present moment!”

    Once the competitor in me is activated, I am back on the treadmill of thought about how to “fix this,” and as with all treadmills, no closer to my destination: the present moment.

    Solution? Relax. Breathe. Impress it upon my mind again and again that strain does not actually help me accomplish. Good enough is good enough. Perfectionism ruins all good things. There is no contest to win and no race to finish. All this kind of panic does is help me to further elude the present moment.

    —

    This process can seem tedious, returning again and again and yet again to the present moment, then doing it all again tomorrow. But as with all things, it’s all about perspective. If I can let go of the competitor, the one who is trying to achieve, win, do it right, staying awake gets much closer to effortless.

    Making present moment awareness something that is achievement based only serves to keep us bound to shame, and make us feel like failures when we inevitably can’t stay present 100% of the time.

    In the crucial moment when I realize I have left the present moment again, instead of rejoicing that I am once again awake by virtue of that knowing, I often times plunge back in to unconsciousness with thoughts like “You failed again to stay present.”

    What a game changer it is, upon coming home to my present moment, instead of hearing “Where have you been?” I say to myself “Welcome back.”

  • Today Can Be the Day You Turn Things Around

    Today Can Be the Day You Turn Things Around

    Sad Man

    “In chaos, there is fertility.” ~Anais Nin

    How did I get to this point?

    This question pulsed through my brain repeatedly as I drove to my parents’ house in a state of complete exhaustion. My young daughter was strapped in the back seat, my pregnant belly pushing against the steering wheel, hot tears streaming down my face.

    I was done. I had nothing left to give. How did I get here?

    Gradually, then suddenly.

    With eternal gratitude to Hemingway, three simple words so elegantly summarize how I ended up in a situation I didn’t want or expect.

    “How did you go bankrupt?”

    “Gradually, then suddenly.”

    ~Ernest Hemingway (The Sun Also Rises)

    It happened so gradually, almost imperceptibly. And then suddenly, unequivocally, shockingly, I had suffered an emotional breakdown.

    Looking back, I can see that I had willingly immersed myself in anxiety, perfectionism, comparisons, sleep-deprivation, a lack of mindfulness, poor health, and the idea that I deserved more from life.

    Gradually, these things took their toll. Until suddenly I found myself in a dark and frightening place.

    This gradual, then sudden decline is not reserved for dramatic breakdowns. It’s not reserved for high-achievers, or emotionally sensitive people.

    We each face sudden declines. Moments where we realize what we’ve been neglecting, treating poorly, or taking for granted. It could be our:

    Health – the moment we step on the scales, try to walk three flights of stairs, or look at a recent photo.

    Addictions – the moment we realize we cannot cut ties to a substance, an emotion, or a person.

    Debt – the moment we are brave enough to look at our credit card statement, answer the debt collector’s phone call, or realize we’re living beyond our means.

    Clutter – the moment we realize how materialistic we’ve become, how much money has been spent on stuff, or how entitled our children are.

    Time – the moment we realize we’ve watched more than sixty days worth of television in a year, the months are passing with little to show for it, or the reflection in the mirror is ten years older than we remember.

    Relationships – the moment we realize we haven’t spoken to our best friend in months, seen our grandmother since Christmas, or played CandyLand with our kids.

    Either we’ve stopped paying attention to what’s important, or we’ve decided that not knowing the truth of our situation is preferable to seeing the reality.

    Unfortunately for us, there will come a moment when things snap back into focus. And that moment will build gradually and arrive suddenly, leaving us reeling.

    Turn It Around by Embracing What Matters

    Just like the decline, the ascent will be gradual.

    When my husband picked me up from my parents’ house that evening three years ago, we drove home in silence. Our daughter was sleeping peacefully in the back seat and I felt relief. That night’s rest was the first uninterrupted sleep I’d had in years.

    Over the years, I have turned things around. I am happier, healthier, more engaged, and more content than I have ever been.

    As I realized my life had been one big, precarious balancing act, I began to see what was and was not important.

    Establish Priorities

    I took the time to work out what truly mattered. Once I removed the expectations, the comparisons and the thought that I “deserved more from life” it was quite simple to see what my priorities were.

    My husband and children, love, creativity, health, spirituality, joy and beauty. And importantly, making the time, space, and energy to experience each of these fully.

    Your priorities are likely very different to mine. But ask yourself, “If I took away the expectations, comparisons, and entitlement, what would be most important to me? Where do my priorities lie?”

    Embrace Mindfulness

    Initially, embracing mindfulness and really engaging with my family, friends, and work was terrifying. What if I was lacking? What if I didn’t like what I saw? What if they didn’t like what they saw?

    Over time I discovered there is so much more to experience in life by practicing mindfulness. Taking the time to engage in fierce and real conversations, to notice the exact shade of lavender in a sunset, to be completely in the moment. There is depth and joy right there.

    Care for Your Self

    I long neglected my own health—both physical and mental. But as I started my ascent I began to see huge benefits to time spent on myself.

    Counselling, time spent alone, eating clean foods, drinking less alcohol, sleeping more, exercising regularly, rising early—these changes all assisted my ascent.

    When you are unwell or in poor health, you can’t fully engage with those people and things that matter .Too much of your energy will go towards simply getting through the day. So ask yourself, “What is one thing I can change today that will help improve my health?”

    Find Contentment

    Learning to be content with my circumstance has helped me live a far more meaningful life since my breakdown. Finding contentment has brought peace and gratitude and happiness, where for years there had been none.

    I no longer feel like I deserve more from life. I know I can work towards goals and dreams—and I do, every day—but I no longer feel entitled to them. It’s incredibly liberating.

    If you can find contentment in life where you are right now, the pressure, the anxiety, and the stress of needing to be more simply disappears, leaving you free to actually pursue your goals and dreams from a place of peace and acceptance.

    Is Today the Day?

    Is today the day you turn things around? Or will you wait for the sudden realization that you have arrived at a place you didn’t want or expect to be?

    The beauty of it is, you don’t have to wait—you can choose to turn it around today.

    Photo here

  • A Surefire Way to Improve Your Life: 7 Reasons and 5 Ways to Be Mindful

    A Surefire Way to Improve Your Life: 7 Reasons and 5 Ways to Be Mindful

    “People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—our own two eyes. All is a miracle.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    I remember it clearly, the day it all began to click. People talk about epiphanies that changed their lives in an instant, and mine was no different. Problem was, this change turned into a ten-year journey of slow and sometimes painful self-discovery.

    I was standing outside with my wife and a friend. I don’t recall what we were talking about, but I do recall listening to my friend before he blurted, “I hate when you do that, Josh!”

    I was confused, so I asked, “Do what?”

    He replied, “You stopped listening and now you’re thinking about the next thing you’re going to say.”

    My confusion turned to embarrassment. “No!  I don’t do that—do I?” I looked at my wife—she nodded in agreement.

    That moment changed my life. It was like hearing a starting pistol go off on a project that would eventually take me down a rocky path of self-reflection over the next decade, but it was a feeling I never wanted to experience again.

    I’m not referring to the feeling of shame and embarrassment or being “caught,” but the feeling of knowing that my lack of awareness was the cause of others’ suffering.

    I desired to be a better husband, father, and friend, so I began studying mindfulness, which led me to conduct doctoral research on how mindful presence affects our everyday interactions.

    What I discovered was a set of seven principles we can all expect from becoming fully immersed in the present moment:

    1. Mindful presence creates a heightened awareness of what we do in the moment…

    …including thoughts as they arise, our actions taken as a result of those thoughts, and the impact of those thoughts and actions on others.

    2. Mindful presence is the catalyst for self-reflection.

    Simply put, the more present we are, the more we compare that moment to previous interactions, facilitating greater change for the better.

    3. Mindful presence nurtures unconditional acceptance, particularly in our close relationships.

    As things happen and we maintain presence, we are more likely to accept them without judgment.

    4. Mindful presence evokes interaction.

    As we immerse ourselves into the moment, others notice. As they notice our presence, it creates gravity, drawing us closer together. As we become present, we see others inviting us into interaction, because people want to be around others who are willing to invest time.

    5. The more aware we are of the greatness of others, the more likely we will feel pride for those we care about.

    As we feel that pride, we outwardly express it and others notice.  This encourages others to strive further through the very initiative we nurtured through our presence.

    6. In moments of mindful presence, we are more likely to experience savoring the moment as we marvel in wonder at the simplest beauty.

    Heightened appreciation adds color, depth, and richness to everyday experiences.

    7. The self-reflection referred to in #2 above results in a greater capacity for gratitude.

    As we reflect, we savor, and as we savor, we become thankful.

    Wonderful, right?  If I was reading this list, I know I would feel drawn toward acting more mindfully, but the next question is, how do we get there?

    Here are five ways mindfulness can be practiced and refined. I encourage you to try them all on a regular, rotating basis:

    1. One of the simplest methods is to walk with no destination in mind.

    This could be done at a trip to the store, around your neighborhood, or even at your local mall. Let go of all thought of a schedule or an agenda, and simply allow yourself to go wherever your mood takes you. Surrender yourself to the flow.

    Interestingly enough, driving reduces the angle of your field of vision by up to 75%, depending on speed. Walking allows you to see more of your surroundings, so take it in, but remind yourself as you walk: there is nowhere more important for you to be than right here, right now.

    2. Eat your food and consume your drink as if they were your last. 

    Sure, dinner might have been a cheap frozen dinner, but how would you eat that same meal if you knew it might be your last? Would you slow yourself down and savor it more? What would this do for your appreciation of what you consume.

    Another way of eating involves not taking a single bite or drink until you have silently thanked each and every individual responsible, from the farmer who cultivated the tealeaf, to the trucker who shipped it, to the grocer who placed it on the shelf.

    Once you ponder all the hands that work to provide you that opportunity, you begin to develop more appreciation for even the simplest of things.

    3. Next time you’re stopped at a red light, take the time to breathe deeply, filling your lungs and emptying them completely.

    Count how many of these you can do during a stoplight. As you breathe, look around and notice what is around you. What are others doing? What are their stories?

    You’ll be surprised at how much easier it becomes to accept a green light that just turned red.  No longer will you feel rage at being hindered, but you may even begin to anticipate your next opportunity to stop and reflect.

    4. Next time your phone rings, resist the urge to answer.

    Let it ring a couple of times as you collect your thoughts and prepare to answer. Think about the person calling. What do they look like? What frame of mind are they in? Even if this is an employee in Sri Lanka calling to collect a debt, what is life like for that person? How many irate Americans have they talked to before you? 

    5. Finally, before bed, take fifteen minutes to sit in silent darkness.

    Take note of everything you experience, from the sound of a fan to the sensation of your backside against whatever you are sitting on. Breathe slowly and deeply, allowing yourself to let go and simply be. You’ll be amazed at how well you sleep after this!

    Each of these trainings is designed to cultivate the act of being intentionally focused on the events of the moment as they unfold and to accept them without judgment.

    Becoming mindfully present is a miracle, but an attainable one, and one we can all experience, each and every day, surrounded by the ones we love.

  • 5 Meditation Tips for People Who Don’t (Yet) Like to Meditate

    5 Meditation Tips for People Who Don’t (Yet) Like to Meditate

    “Don’t wait for your feelings to change to take the action. Take the action and your feelings will change.” ~Barbara Baron

    I own a series of CDs called “Classical Music for People Who Hate Classical Music.” We know we should like and listen to classical music—they’re the classics after all! But when I actually find time to listen to music, I reach for Mumford & Sons, not Mozart.

    Some of us have a similar relationship with meditation.

    We know we should meditate—it has so many mental, emotional, and physical benefits, and who couldn’t use a bit of slowing down in their busy life? But when we actually find that bit of time to ourselves that could be used for meditation, we instead turn on the TV, reach for the iPad, or mindlessly page through a magazine.

    When I first became interested in establishing a meditation and mindfulness practice, I approached it intellectually: I read a lot of books, downloaded apps for meditation, and even considered taking a class at a local Zen meditation center.

    The more I learned about it, the more I knew I had to incorporate these practices into my life. So I read even more, and I did so much reading that I didn’t actually meditate!

    Why not? Well, honestly, meditation seemed a bit boring. And I didn’t think I was very good at it. I’d close my eyes, count my breath, and then start making grocery lists in my head and worrying about the un-crossed-off items on my to-do list.

    I found I loved the idea of meditation, but I didn’t want to practice meditation. I consider myself a left-brain, idea-loving gal, and if I have some free time, I want engage my mind, not quiet it!

    Has this happened to you? Is meditation your equivalent of a great classic of literature, which Mark Twain once described as something that everyone wants to have read, but no one wants to actually read?

    Ultimately, I came to develop a meditation practice in conjunction with my therapy for depression and anxiety, and it has changed my life for the better. I’ve learned that with meditation, the process of doing it, is the whole point, not checking the “done” box.

    I would like to share some tips to help those of you who, like I did, want to meditate, but don’t actually want to start meditating! Each tip combats one of the reasons we may give for not starting a meditation practice.

    1. I don’t have time!

    Yes, we are busy with careers, children, homes, and social obligations, but we all have five minutes to stop during our day and breathe.

    If you wanted to train to run a 5K, you probably wouldn’t start your first workout with a thirty-minute hard run. To begin a meditation practice, start slowly. Start with five minutes a day, then work up to eight, then to ten, and so on.

    You can also practice mindfulness meditation while eating (paying attention to the tastes and sensations as you eat), walking, cleaning, or any other task you do in your busy day. Can you find times in your day to bring meditative and mindful attention to what you are already doing?

    Additionally, you may find that regular meditation actually saves you time. By becoming more mindful, you’ll be less likely to make forgetful mistakes that take even more of your precious time to fix!

    2. It’s so boring! If I’m going to take time for myself, I am going to read and think!

    Yes, we love to think, but there is also beauty in quieting the mind. If you really want to get your thinking fix through meditation, however, there are meditative practices that engage your mind.

    For example, you could meditate on a short reading or scripture, or focus on a mantra for your meditation. Meditation and mindfulness are not just “sitting there thinking of nothing.” There are a variety of ways to practice.

    You can also find plenty of guided meditations online that give you something to focus on and help you develop your practice.

    3. I’m not good at it!

    Well, that’s kind of the point! Meditation is not about “emptying the mind,” but about observing the mind.

    If you find in your meditation session that your mind has wandered to the events of the day, or planning for the future, you simply bring your attention back to the breath. And the fact that you have noticed that your mind is wandering is great!

    It means you are good at it. You observed the actions of your mind. You are become more mindful. (And there’s a reason it’s called a practice—it’s something you’ll continually work on improving.)

    4. But when my mind wanders, it’s to planning, and worrying, and that seems far more important than meditation.

    Yes, we have to live in the world. We have to plan and organize—but not all the time. A strategy that has been effective for me (especially in yoga class) is to allow myself about five to ten minutes for the planning, thinking about what I need to do when I get home, or whatever else is occupying my mind.

    By getting it out of the way, I can then focus mindfully on my practice. When you sit down to meditate, write down those concerns or the to-do list items before you begin. Then set them aside—they’ll still be there when you’re done, and you can approach them with a fresh perspective!

    5. I don’t know where to begin!

    Take your cue from Nike and Just Do It! You won’t improve your cardiovascular health by reading about Zumba classes, you won’t start liking classical music if that CD collects dust on your shelf, and you won’t experience the amazing benefits of meditation until you begin your practice.

    Start small and go easy on yourself. In fact, it might be easier if you change Nike’s advice: don’t just do something; sit there!

    And just like with exercising, you may find that after a few weeks of continuous practice, meditation doesn’t feel like effort, but it becomes something you want to do, and something you truly like doing. Maybe even while listening to classical music.

  • Embodied Presence: Find Freedom from Your Thoughts and Emotions

    Embodied Presence: Find Freedom from Your Thoughts and Emotions

    Embodied Presence

    “To be alive is to totally and openly participate in the simplicity and elegance of here and now.” ~Donald Altman

    Embodied presence probably sounds superfluous. How else would we be present but in the body? If we leave our bodies, then we are by definition deceased. No longer present.

    The simplicity of this embodied presence idea belies its depth though. The issue isn’t that I’m ever literally disembodied, but that I’m often unaware of my body-mind connection to the point that I’m not sufficiently mindful of the moment.

    I know I’m not unique for this. We all do this. It’s called being distracted. I can get so lost in my thoughts that I lose touch with what’s actually happening, right now.

    For example, not too long ago, I was sitting at home one evening. I was feeling really peaceful and at ease. Then, my iPhone chimed alerting me to an email. It was a message from my boss. I read the email and my whole emotional state changed.

    My heart pounded, energy surged through my arms, and my chest and face felt hard and tight. Based on my body’s response, it would have seemed my life was in danger.

    I attached meaning to the email I read. My interpretation registered the email as a threat. My body did what it’s supposed to do when I perceive a threat.

    I immediately started typing my reactive email response. It was sharp and curt. Then, I stopped. I paused. I’m not sure what triggered my drop into my body’s senses, but that drop into my body saved me. 

    My awareness dropped from my thoughts to my body’s current sensations. With that drop, I was present in the moment. The investigation of my body’s sensations—the pulsing, tingling, hardness, tightness—was so interesting that my drive to immediately react dissolved.

    After that body investigation, I labeled my emotion. It was anger. I was feeling angry because of a perceived threat. Then, I slowly responded to my boss’ message. I still felt the anger, but I wasn’t blindly driven by it.

    I decided to carefully respond to the content of the message without indicating my reaction to her tone.  She responded later that night. Her message was so gracious.

    She simply misunderstood something and my reply clarified it for her. That was all. There was no problem. My initial reaction was rooted in my own story about her email.

    “It isn’t what happens to us that causes us to suffer; it’s what we say to ourselves about what happens.” ~Pema Chodron

    How do I stay in my body? Each morning and evening, I meditate for 30 minutes. During those meditation sessions, I concentrate on the sensations my breathing creates in my body: my heaving chest, the cool tickles through my nostrils, the expansion of my lower abdomen, even the slight spread of my shoulders each time I inhale.

    This training helps anchor my mind to my body in a way nothing else does. There are so many other ways to get into your body though (e.g. yoga, tai chi, arts and crafts). Finding a way that suits you so that you can support yourself by doing it consistently can help change how you experience the day.

    This is beneficial to you and to those with whom you interact. When I’m feeling a difficult emotion, I often invite myself to feel the emotion in my body—rather than creating a story line in my conscious mind—by asking myself the following question: how do I know I’m angry? 

    This question always helps me drop from my conscious mind down into my body and thus into the present moment. I have made the conscious choice to return to what John O’Donohue calls the temple of my senses.

    “My body knows it belongs, it’s my mind that makes my life so homeless.”

    My conscious train of thought can sometimes get so destructively creative in its interpretation of the moment that I’m attaching meaning to the moment that causes harm to me and others.

    Through my body practices, I’ve learned three important lessons.

    1. The body offers helpful insight.

    Thinking isn’t the only way to relate to my life. My body experiences the moment and collects data that my conscious mind, in all its effort, can’t even see.

    I find that after scanning my body and then returning to my thinking, I operate with greater clarity. When I feel a strong emotion, it’s helpful to me to investigate the sensations in my body before I label the emotion.

    I may have labeled an emotion “anger,” but after scanning my body to get in touch with a deeper wisdom, I might realize it’s fear. I’m not angry, but I’m feeling threatened because of meaning I’ve attached to a situation.

    Sometimes, it’s not nervousness I feel; it’s excitement. Opening into my body along with my mind allows for greater clarity and higher intelligence. I’m free to then respond appropriately to the present moment instead of being blindly driven by unexamined emotions.

    2. Emotional states are universal.

    I find this fact incredibly supportive: emotional states are universal. My anger isn’t my anger. My sadness isn’t my sadness. It’s the anger and the sadness that touches us all. Difficult emotions feel less personal and more universal when I pay attention to them.

    I felt angry about my boss’ email because the adrenaline was still coursing through my blood. My body produced adrenaline because I interpreted the email as a threat. That’s all. It’s just my body doing exactly what it is conditioned to do in response to perceived threats.

    I didn’t, however, have to perceive it as a threat.

    3. Emotions pass more easily when we shine the soft light of awareness on them.

    There’s this dreadful sense of solidity that sets in when I start to believe my emotions and thoughts are the only absolute reality. When I forget that what’s actually happening is separate from what I feel and think about what’s happening, my dread cements and I feel hopeless.

    As soon as something unexpected happens, like someone I barely know smiles at me or a person I thought dislikes me makes sure I get a bottle of water at a meeting, the solidity dissolves.

    That solidity gives way to a sense of openness and possibility that I temporarily lost touch with while believing my ego’s diatribes. I love it when something happens that breaks my ego’s trance. I am so thankful for those mindful moments that rescue me from my sometimes destructive inner monologues.

    Living an embodied life is one of those paradoxical experiences. It’s hard, but it’s easy. 

    It’s easy because it’s a matter of focusing on what is happening now. Staying present. That’s all. It’s hard because our minds often want to create stories about what is happening. Why? Because it can. Our conscious minds are doing what they do: producing thoughts.

    I can choose to see those thoughts as nothing more personal than anything else my body releases (for example, a sneeze or cough).

    Our minds care so much for us and want to help. I sometimes try to calm my busy mind by reminding it that it doesn’t have to solve every problem right now.

    If we open to the moment through our bodies, a whole new level of insight and wisdom can support us in ways our conscious mind cannot. May we all open to a greater level of embodied presence.

    Photo by Sage Ross

  • Lessons from Dogs on Being Present and Healing After Loss

    Lessons from Dogs on Being Present and Healing After Loss

    Dog

    “If you learn from a loss you have not lost.” ~Austin O’Malley

    Every experience, including every loss, has something to teach us even when we are not up for a lesson.

    Losing one of my pets has been a chance for me to reflect on the value of the present, and has strengthened my commitment to engaging in each moment and not letting my worries and anticipation erode the possibilities of the now.

    In December, my fourteen-year-old golden retriever passed away. Ripley was an incredible companion who saw me through several jobs, moved with me five times, and outlasted my longest boyfriend by over ten years.

    If I was sick, she would curl up on next to me and ask for nothing until I felt better. If I was sad, she would push her head into my hand and offer as many dog kisses as I could stand. If I was just being lazy, she would bark at me until I got off the couch for a walk or a fierce game of tug.

    I was fortunate that she was a happy, vibrant dog up until the last few days of her life when she simply slowed down and passed away peacefully.

    The decision to let her go wasn’t easy but it was uncomplicated, and I felt a sense of clarity throughout the process of saying goodbye.

    What I didn’t anticipate was the depth of loss I have experienced since she passed. And I certainly didn’t know that my other dog, Keaton, would help me so much through the loss and guide me back onto my path.

    Ripley died a couple weeks before the holidays, which meant the weeks following were hectic and spent with people closest to me who understood the significance of my loss.

    After the holidays, Ripley’s absence started to sink in at the base level of loss that shows itself in the shift of your daily routines and spotlights the silly, simple ways that someone or something becomes ingrained in your life.

    It’s then I realized that as much as letting her go hurt, it wasn’t her actual passing that was the most difficult. It was going to be the gap created by her absence that would hurt and challenge me the most.

    The pain of saying goodbye was nothing compared to the poignant ache that was created once she was gone.

    Keaton is a tall, goofy, five-year-old golden retriever, and from the day I brought him home as a puppy, he pledged his allegiance to Ripley with the dedication of a novice cult member.

    When she passed, he spent the first week searching the house and whining in what I projected onto him as sadness; so there was some sort of transition happening that he could not have anticipated.

    The week before she died was filled with lasts—the last time they ate together, the last time they wrestled playfully growling fake growls, and the last time they banished the squirrels from the yard like a superhero and her faithful sidekick.

    And all the time he was sharing those experiences with her, Keaton wasn’t wondering when she would leave or what it would be like without her. Whatever he experienced was free, unmitigated by what might happen and unscathed by concerns if it was going to ever happen again.

    He reminded me of one of my favorite poems, The Peace of Wild Things, by Wendell Barry. In particular, one line reads, “I come into the peace of wild things, who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.”

    Keaton and I are going through the loss in our own canine/human ways, but he never wasted time worrying about the possibilities, the future, the maybes and what-ifs that can rob us from a full experience.

    Whether those experiences are good, bad, joyful, funny, challenging, exhilarating, or exhausting—they are the beautiful arenas in which we exist, triumphing and screwing up just the same. Keaton’s moments with Ripley weren’t perfect because the squirrel was caught (they never caught one); they were perfect because they happened.

    How often do we step ahead of the moment and step toward concern, negativity, and anxiety? How easily are we drawn away by our thoughts of what might happen next? How hard is it, once we’ve taken that step away from the moment, to step back into the present?

    We are all on a path toward greater mindfulness (we’re all reading Tiny Buddha, right?) and the universe is always offering simple reminders and lessons that might lead us to profound change.

    I was crushed when Ripley passed, and was in no mood to look for lessons or even accept them. Perhaps thinking about Keaton’s experience with Ripley and then without her gave me the perspective from which I could accept the lesson being offered.

    My dogs have been great teachers, reminding me that disarming the anxiety of what may be, and the pain of what has been lost, frees me up to more fully engage in the present and challenge myself to bask in the joy of each moment. And that each of those experiences is invaluable.

    There will never be another moment just like that, no matter how good or bad, and that makes it precious.

    Every time I would let the dogs out, Ripley would stand at the edge of the deck, bark confidently, and then wait to see which neighborhood dogs would respond. All the while, Keaton never barked. The day after she passed, I let Keaton out and as I turned to go back into the house, I heard a deep, unfamiliar bark.

    I turned to see Keaton standing on the edge of the deck, looking across the yard with his ears up and tail wagging.

    Ripley was gone and Keaton was stepping up and into the moment. In that simple bark, he reminded me the best way to honor what has passed is to step into the present fully with my ears up and tail wagging.

    Photo by thezartorialist.com

  • Let Go and Experience Life: 8 Ways to Stop Living in Crisis Mode

    Let Go and Experience Life: 8 Ways to Stop Living in Crisis Mode

    Sun

    “I vow to let go of all worries and anxiety in order to be light and free.” ~Thich Nhat Han

    My dad had been ill, in and out of the hospital for a couple of weeks, when my mother called with news that he had been airlifted from their local hospital to a larger regional medical center. My dad suffered from Crohn’s Disease for nearly fifty years at that point and was experiencing severe abdominal pain believed to be from a perforation of his bowel.

    We would learn over the next few hours that even surgery to remove a malignant tumor was not guaranteed to save his life.

    Throughout the long night, my mom and brother, along with my partner and I, shared a grim, poorly lit room reserved for families of emergency surgery patients.

    Throughout the trauma of that first night and the days that followed, I made it my mission to normalize, plan, and cope. I called relatives and kept those closest to my dad up to date. I paid for hotel rooms for my mom and brother, neither of whom could afford to stay overnight near the hospital.

    I became a caregiving overachiever, connecting personally with the nursing staff but careful to not be too pushy.

    My visits coincided with physician rounds where I asked questions and kept detailed notes. Once back at work as a librarian, I used online medical databases to get all the journal articles I could find about my dad’s condition.

    I built a fortress of information for reassurance. For the next eighteen months, I accompanied my parents to specialist appointments and tried in every way possible to make life normal. I paid their bills when they could not and funded the expensive health insurance my father now required due to his condition.

    Desperate problem solving became normal, necessary, and my job. What I didn’t realize, though, was the permanent adjustment I was making to a “high alert” status.

    In this fear-based mode of living, I was on constant lookout for any sign of danger so I could switch into containment mode, minimizing discomfort as fast as possible.

    When my father‘s cancer recurred after a period of relatively good health, we were all devastated. He died nine months after the recurrence, withdrawn and sad, while receiving hospice care at home. I felt like I had failed to keep everyone safe.

    As I grieved in the months and years that followed, I transferred the high alert skills to my job as a project manager, priding myself on my ability to see risks well ahead of others. I thought this protected me from uncertainty and, consequently, fear and anxiety.

    In fact, it ratcheted my alert status up to an even higher level—one that ultimately proved unsustainable. After nearly a year of leading a highly visible and high stakes project, I found myself sitting on the couch one morning, paralyzed by a combination of fear, sadness, and rage. 

    I was unable to get ready for work. My big project had stalled, I was terrified of displeasing my boss, and I was angry that I couldn’t see my way clear of these problems. There was no bright line to the future.

    I learned that these crisis moments offer opportunities to practice letting others help us and learn new ways of living. Here are 8 strategies that have helped me: 

    1. Find a neutral advocate.

    Objective outside support is crucial during a crisis period. Friends and family can often recommend a life coach, therapist, or spiritual advisor with whom they have worked. If you are reluctant to talk with friends, you can use social networking tools like LinkedIn to see if someone in your network is connected to an individual who can help.

    2. Practice mindfulness.

    There’s value in focusing on our breath to quiet the turmoil in our minds. Look for a meditation or spiritual center that offers a basic class in meditation, mindfulness, or prayer. Even ten minutes each day in quiet reflection will improve your focus, resiliency, and peace of mind.

    3. Replenish yourself.

    You might be depleted from years of constant vigilance and striving. Commit to leave at the end of your workday, at least a few days a week, even if everything isn’t done. Reconnect with parts of yourself that you haven’t seen for a while by watching a favorite movie or surrounding yourself with your favorite color.

    4. Try another perspective.

    Most people are doing their best but are primarily caught up in the storyline of their own lives. Even thirty seconds of viewing a situation from another’s point of view can diffuse your negative inner dialogue about a person or situation.

    5. Know your limits.

    When you are feeling pressured or negative, check to see if you are tired, hungry, or otherwise not feeling well. Avoid pushing through these feelings and stop your activity. Return to your situation later when you are feeling more refreshed.

    6. Make something.

    Many of us lose touch with our creative self as work and family commitments take more of our energy.  Working with our hands can effectively pull us out of a mental rut and create pride in our own abilities.  Handcrafts like sewing, knitting, embroidery, as well as woodworking, cooking, pottery making, and home improvement projects are all satisfying ways to feel purposeful.

    7. Look for like-minded folks.

    Connect with new friends and old acquaintances that are calm, self-aware, and in touch with their own unique humanity. Finding others to share interests and a good laugh provides a balance to the more stressful aspects of life.

    8. Reconnect with your love.

    Create opportunities to deepen your conversations beyond the rushed and sometimes business-like communication of daily life. Increasing conversational intimacy will strengthen intimacy throughout your relationship.

    After a long day, when you’re tired and have slipped back into old patterns and reactions, remember that these techniques are like muscles that get stronger each time you use them.

    Photo by Sagisen

  • 7 Powerful Spiritual Truths: Turn Challenges into a Reawakening

    7 Powerful Spiritual Truths: Turn Challenges into a Reawakening

    Awakening

    “Everything that happens to you is a reflection of what you believe about yourself. We cannot outperform our level of self-esteem. We cannot draw to ourselves more than we think we are worth.” ~Iyanla Vanzant 

    Have you ever had an experience that took you to emotional rock bottom? One that left you drained, broken, and totally numb? Your life shattered, and you scrambling to pick up the pieces and put them back together?

    It might sound like a cliché, but sometimes it really is darkest just before dawn. Rock bottom can be a great place to start to rebuild yourself. Sometimes, it is the only place, as I once experienced.

    My Spiritual Re-awakening

    He had just broken up with me. We weren’t together for long—a few months at most—but it was still one of the most painful things I ever experienced.

    I knew that my pain wasn’t because the relationship was over; it stemmed from a lack of self-worth.

    I didn’t know how to have a healthy relationship with myself, let alone another person. The pain of trying to have close relationships without having the skills to successfully navigate them had caught up to me with a vengeance—vengeance that had brought me to my knees.

    And so began my spiritual re-awakening and the re-emergence of these hidden truths: (more…)