Tiny Buddha

Tag: Mindfulness

  • How Gratitude and Mindfulness Gave Me My Life Back

    How Gratitude and Mindfulness Gave Me My Life Back

    “Train your mind and heart to see the good in everything. There is always something to be grateful for.” ~Unknown

    I used to rush through life, constantly ticking off to-dos, feeling like I was always chasing something just beyond my reach. My days were a blur of deadlines, errands, and commitments. And yet, in the quiet moments—when I finally lay my head on the pillow at night—there was this heaviness, this emptiness I couldn’t shake.

    I kept telling myself that once I finished the next big project, once I achieved the next goal, I’d feel better. But that “better” feeling never came.

    Then one afternoon, something changed. I was sitting in my car after an exhausting day at work, staring blankly at the traffic in front of me. The world was loud and chaotic, and I felt disconnected from it all. I couldn’t even remember what I’d eaten for lunch or if I’d really been present during the meeting I’d spent hours preparing for. I was just… existing. Going through the motions.

    It wasn’t a big event that shifted things for me. There was no grand revelation or life-altering moment. It was something as simple as the song playing on the radio. It was a song I’d heard countless times before, but in that moment, it hit differently.

    The lyrics spoke about pausing, about breathing in life, about seeing the beauty in the ordinary. For the first time in what felt like forever, I noticed the warmth of the sunlight streaming through my car window. I noticed the steady rhythm of my breath and how it calmed the rising tide of anxiety in my chest.

    It was as though my mind had cleared a little, just enough for me to catch a glimpse of what I’d been missing. That fleeting moment was my “ah ha” moment, the one where I realized I had been living my life on autopilot, never truly appreciating the present. I had been running, running so fast I forgot to feel the ground beneath my feet.

    I didn’t know it then, but that was the start of a deep transformation for me. The next morning, I decided to try something different. Instead of reaching for my phone the second I woke up, I lay there in bed, just breathing, just being. I looked around my room, feeling the softness of the sheets and hearing the gentle hum of the world outside. It was a small shift, but it felt monumental.

    Over time, I started practicing gratitude. I kept a small notebook by my bedside, and each night, I wrote down three things I was grateful for. At first, it felt like a forced exercise, like I was trying to convince myself to be positive. But slowly, the practice became more natural. I found myself appreciating the little things—the crispness of the morning air, the smile of a stranger, the sound of rain tapping against the window. These were moments I had once glossed over, but now they felt like treasures.

    Mindfulness was the next piece of the puzzle. It wasn’t about meditating for hours or trying to reach some enlightened state. It was simply about being present. Whether I was walking, eating, or just sitting quietly, I learned to focus on the now instead of worrying about the past or the future. I started savoring my morning breakfast, not gulping it down as I rushed out the door. I noticed the colors of the sky, the shapes of the clouds, and the sensation of the cool breeze on my skin.

    My relationships began to shift, too. I was more present with the people I loved, truly listening when they spoke instead of planning my response or getting distracted by my thoughts. I laughed more freely, connected more deeply, and most importantly, I started showing up for myself, fully and completely.

    I kept returning to the realization that life was happening right in front of me, and I was missing it. As the weeks passed, my new habits of practicing gratitude and mindfulness began to weave themselves into the fabric of my daily routine. Each day felt a little lighter, a little more grounded, and I found myself noticing things I had taken for granted before.

    I used to think gratitude was reserved for the big things: promotions, holidays, or achieving something significant. But as I began to explore the deeper meaning of it, I realized how wrong I had been.

    Gratitude, I discovered, lives in the tiniest moments, in the details we often overlook. It’s in the way my morning drink warms my hands on a chilly day, in the way my cats greet me with excitement as though we’ve been apart for weeks, even though it’s only been a few hours.

    One morning, after weeks of practicing this new mindset, I stood by my window and watched the sun slowly rise. I’d seen hundreds of sunrises in my lifetime, but that morning, it felt different. The sky was painted with shades of pink and gold, and the air was cool and crisp against my skin. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the moment settle into me. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly alive. Present. Connected.

    That was when I realized something profound: gratitude isn’t just a practice. It’s a way of living. It’s a lens through which I now view the world. And through that lens, everything feels more vibrant, more meaningful. The more I gave thanks for the little things, the more little things there were to be thankful for. It was as though my life, which had once seemed dull and routine, was now sparkling with possibility.

    One of the biggest shifts I noticed was how my perspective on challenges changed.

    Life didn’t suddenly stop throwing difficulties my way. There were still tough days, stressful deadlines, and moments when things didn’t go as planned. But now, instead of getting swept up in frustration or self-pity, I found myself pausing, breathing, and asking, “What can I learn from this?” or “What is this teaching me?” It wasn’t always easy, but each time I reframed a problem, it felt like I was reclaiming a bit of my peace.

    One particularly difficult day stands out. It was one of those mornings where everything seemed to go wrong from the start. My alarm didn’t go off, I spilled my water all over me on the way to work, and by lunchtime, I had already faced a series of minor disasters that left me feeling frazzled and defeated.

    Old me would’ve spiraled into a cycle of frustration and negativity, but something stopped me in my tracks. I took a step back, quite literally. I walked outside, feeling the sun on my face, and I asked myself, “What can I be grateful for right now?”

    At first, it felt forced. My mind resisted the question, but I persisted. I took a deep breath and let the fresh air fill my lungs. I looked around and noticed the vibrant green of the trees, the sound of birds singing, and the simple fact that I had made it through half the day. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. And in that moment, I felt my tension start to ease. I was reminded that no matter how hectic life gets, there’s always something to appreciate if I just take the time to notice.

    This new mindset didn’t just affect my relationship with myself; it transformed the way I interacted with others. I became more patient, more understanding, and more present. I used to be quick to judge or assume the worst in situations, but now I find myself pausing and reflecting. I’ve learned that everyone has their own struggles, their own battles, and sometimes a little bit of kindness and empathy can go a long way. Gratitude has made me softer, more compassionate, and more open-hearted.

    Mindfulness, too, became a constant companion. It’s funny how something as simple as paying attention can completely shift your experience.

    I started noticing how often I was caught up in my thoughts, lost in worries about the future or regrets about the past. Mindfulness brought me back to the present, to the here and now. It helped me realize that the present moment is all we ever truly have, and it’s enough. More than enough, actually.

    I started integrating mindfulness into everything I did. Washing dishes became a meditative act, feeling the warmth of the water and hearing the gentle clink of plates. Walking became an opportunity to notice the world around me, the feel of the ground beneath my feet and the sounds of life buzzing around me. Even mundane tasks, like folding laundry, turned into opportunities to be present, to engage fully with whatever I was doing.

    One of the most beautiful things that came from this journey was a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years. I used to think peace was something external, something I could only find once my circumstances were perfect. But now, I understand that peace is something I can cultivate within myself, no matter what’s going on around me. It’s in the moments when I choose to pause, to breathe, and to connect with the present. It’s in the gratitude I feel for simply being alive, for the opportunity to experience life in all its messiness and beauty.

    Looking back, I can hardly recognize the person I used to be. That version of me was always chasing, always striving, always looking for happiness somewhere out there. But now I know better. Happiness isn’t something to be found. It’s something to be created, moment by moment, through gratitude and mindfulness.

    And that’s the greatest gift I’ve given myself—the ability to be fully alive in my life, to embrace each day, not as something to be conquered or endured, but as a series of moments to be savored. It’s not always easy, and there are days when I fall back into old patterns, but now I have the tools to bring myself back and reconnect with what truly matters.

    It hasn’t been a perfect journey. I still have days when I get swept up in the busyness of life, when I forget to pause, when I feel that familiar sense of overwhelm creeping in. But now, I have the tools to ground myself. I have gratitude. I have mindfulness. And I have the awareness that, no matter what’s going on around me, I can always find a moment of peace within.

    Gratitude and mindfulness didn’t just change my life; they gave me my life back. And for that, I will always be grateful.

  • Why We All Need to Pause More Often and How to Do It

    Why We All Need to Pause More Often and How to Do It

    “Taking time to do nothing often brings everything into perspective.” ~Doe Zantamata

    I have always been that person who just cannot seem to slow down. An overachiever? That’s putting it mildly. In every aspect of my life—work, relationships, personal goals—I have always pushed myself to the absolute limit. It is like I have this internal drive that just won’t quit.

    At work, I am always the first one in and the last to leave. Deadlines? I would meet them days early. Projects? I would volunteer for extra ones, even when my plate was already full. And don’t even get me started on my personal life. Whether it was fitness goals, learning new skills, or maintaining relationships, I approached everything with the same intensity.

    I set these incredibly high standards for myself, and I didn’t ever want to fall short. The thought of not meeting my own expectations was like this constant knot in my stomach, anxiety at its peak. I was relentless, always pushing, always striving, never giving myself a break.

    And as for motives, once I set my mind to something, there was no going back. I would make these strict plans and stick to them religiously. It didn’t matter if I was exhausted or if life threw a curveball my way. I would power through, even during the hardest burnouts I ever had in my life.

    Looking back, I realize I was incredibly hard on myself. It wasn’t just about avoiding certain behaviors or sticking to my goals. It was this rigid, almost punishing approach to everything. I had this idea that if I wasn’t constantly pushing forward, I would somehow fall behind.

    Being strict to the core might sound admirable, but let me tell you, it comes at a cost. There were times when I would lie awake at night, my mind racing with all the things I needed to do and all the goals I hadn’t yet achieved. Relaxation was a foreign concept. Taking a break felt like failure.

    It’s funny, you know. People would often tell me to take it easy, to give myself a break. But in my mind, that was just an excuse for mediocrity. I couldn’t fathom the idea of not giving 110% to everything I did.

    Little did I know, this relentless drive was setting me up for a major wake-up call. But that’s the thing about being an overachiever—you don’t realize you are burning the candle at both ends until, well, there’s no candle left to burn.

    It wasn’t until I forced myself to take a step back that I realized the toll this constant cycle of proving myself was taking on my mental health. I remember a particular moment when I felt completely overwhelmed by the endless to-do lists and expectations that I could not meet, no matter what. Instead of powering through like usual, I decided to pause.

    It is like the saying goes: We need to step back to see the bigger picture. We, as humans, have tunnel vision. The pause from the chaos of daily life hustle made me realize what I had been missing all along.

    I realized that my worth wasn’t defined by perfection but by my ability to be present, to find joy in the journey, and to extend kindness to myself. I had personified myself into these roles. Great friendship and good mentorship made me realize what taking a pause really meant.

    I have always gone above and beyond to prove to everyone around me that I am capable of doing great things too. But that stopped when I paused and thought about living up to their expectations of a great life more than mine.

    So, did I stop doing everything?

    No, definitely not; stopping doing everything in life and taking a pause is different. Pausing is not about grinding to a halt or procrastinating. It’s about creating space—to breathe, to reflect, and to gain perspective. And ironically, it’s in those moments of stillness that we often find the clarity and inspiration to move forward with greater purpose and fulfillment.

    What exactly happened when I took a pause?

    I realized a few things when I started taking pauses in my life:

    Clear picture: Taking a pause made me look at my life and perceive what was really going on with a clear perspective. It made me look at my problems from a different angle.

    Focus: Although I gave importance to all the things around me, the constant grind and cycle of work kept me from focusing on things that really needed to be looked into. Pausing changed my focus from being a people-pleaser to what I want myself to be.

    Health: How many times have we all eaten what we got our hands on whenever we were hungry and regretted our food choices later? A better focus on my life made me want to look at my food choices and exercise routine differently. This change made a good impact on my health.

    Stress: The amount of stress I was relieved from as soon as I started taking breaks was good; nah, it was great! Stress is something everyone has in their lives nowadays. I bet you can’t find anyone who is stress-free in life. (Even the rich are stressed about how to invest their money better.) Taking a little pause from the stress of what’s next is great for everyone in life, not just me.

    Energy levels: It is indeed true that energy levels are boosted after a much-deserved break from any routine. My positive energy was high in dopamine; I had clear goals for what to do. I was motivated to do certain things I would have postponed if I hadn’t realized I deserved the pause.

    Better work: There are two types of people: those who want a break before doing great work, and those who can only take a break after their good work. (This was an Instagram meme, by the way.) Whichever category you fit in, you need a break to perform at your best. I have observed that I work better after a good coffee break; my creativity is then at its peak.

    How did I incorporate pauses into my life?

    You might be thinking, “I don’t have the time to take a pause. My time is valuable.” A motto I have also suffered from, like most people in life. Pauses need not be as big as becoming unemployed, dropping all that you usually do, and starting new things.

    Meditation: It can be as simple as a ten-minute mindfulness meditation session. All you have to do is breathe and release that cortisol out of your body.

    Exercise: If you are someone who doesn’t like to sit still, you can go for a walk or run perhaps. A quick adrenaline pump can make you energized. Research suggests that your energy levels stay the same even an hour after exercise.

    Work break: If you are someone who works a lot, you can take five-minute breaks to maintain your workflow. You can also practice the Pomodoro technique, which a mentor of mine taught. It involves working for twenty-five minutes, followed by a five-minute break.

    How did I recognize the signs that I needed a pause?

    It’s funny how our bodies and minds have ways of telling us when we need to slow down. It’s like they’re waving red flags, trying to get our attention. I started noticing these little signs popping up more and more.

    There were days when I would wake up feeling like I had run a marathon in my sleep: totally exhausted, head pounding, and shoulders so tense. And I could not focus on any of my tasks. It was like my brain had decided to take an unscheduled vacation without bothering to inform me.

    Emotionally? Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly winning any “most cheerful person” awards. I found myself snapping at the smallest things, feeling anxious over stuff that normally wouldn’t faze me. People were constantly walking on eggshells around me. It was like my emotional fuse had shortened.

    And then there were the behavioral changes. Suddenly, I was the queen of procrastination, putting off tasks I usually tackled head-on. My coffee consumption skyrocketed. I mean, how else was I supposed to function?

    It took me a while to realize that these were all signs pointing to one thing: I desperately needed a pause.

    But here’s the thing: Taking a break isn’t just about flopping onto the couch and zoning out (though sometimes that’s exactly what we need). It’s about creating an environment that actually lets you recharge.

    I started by decluttering my space. You’d be amazed by how much mental clarity you can get just by tidying up a bit. I carved out a little corner of my home that became my ‘pause zone’—no work allowed, just pure relaxation.

    Setting boundaries was a game-changer. I had to train my family and friends to understand that when I was in my pause zone, it was like I had an invisible “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging over my head.

    I got a bit fancy with it, too. I started using some lavender essential oil (turns out, it really does help you chill out) and found this great playlist of nature sounds. There is nothing like the sound of gentle waves to make you forget about your overflowing inbox, right?

    The point is, creating a space that encourages you to pause doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s about finding what helps you unwind and making it a regular part of your routine. Because, let’s face it, we all need those moments to step back, take a breath, and remind ourselves that the world won’t fall apart if we take a little break now and then.

    I have also come to realize that taking a break doesn’t always mean jetting off to some exotic location or spending a fortune on a lavish vacation. Sometimes, the most effective pauses are the small ones we take in our daily lives.

    It could be as simple as changing up your morning routine, like maybe taking a different route to work or savoring your coffee on the porch instead of rushing out the door. Perhaps it’s dedicating ten minutes to mindfulness before bed or taking a quick walk around the block during your lunch break.

    These mini pauses, these tiny shifts in our day-to-day patterns, are like little reset buttons for our minds. They give us a chance to step back, even if just for a moment, and see our lives from a slightly different angle.

    And often, it’s these small, consistent breaks that make the biggest difference. They remind us that pausing isn’t about escaping our lives but about being more present in them. So next time you’re feeling overwhelmed, remember: A meaningful break doesn’t have to be big. Sometimes, the smallest pause can offer the greatest perspective.

  • Silent Storms: How Mindfulness Helped Me Reclaim My Self-Worth

    Silent Storms: How Mindfulness Helped Me Reclaim My Self-Worth

    “You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.” ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

    We often hear about storms as powerful forces of nature, but for many of us, the most intense storms are the silent ones—those we battle internally. For me, this storm took the shape of bullying. While I appeared to handle the daily microaggressions and malicious rumors, inside, I was crumbling.

    The bullying didn’t stop in high school; it followed me into adulthood. Every time I thought I had weathered the storm, another wave of hurtful comments would crash over me, leaving me feeling trapped and powerless.

    The constant gossip, whispers, and passive-aggressive remarks from others chipped away at my self-worth. I questioned my value, wondering if I deserved the treatment. Was there something inherently wrong with me? Why was I the target of this relentless negativity? These thoughts haunted me for years, leading to a vicious cycle of self-doubt, anxiety, and fear of being judged.

    At one point, the weight of all these feelings became too much to bear, and I sought counseling. It was in therapy that I first learned about mindfulness, a practice that would transform my life.

    Mindfulness helped me confront the storm I had been carrying inside for years—the shame, hurt, and loss of self-worth brought on by years of bullying and mistreatment. Here’s how this practice helped me heal and reclaim my self-worth, and how you, too, can apply it to your life if you’ve experienced bullying, mistreatment, or any form of emotional harm.

    How Bullying and Mistreatment Lead to Low Self-Worth

    Bullying and mistreatment don’t just hurt in the moment—they can have a lasting effect on how we see ourselves for years.

    Whether it’s gossip, exclusion, or direct harassment, these experiences erode our self-worth. We begin to question our value, internalizing the cruel words and actions of others. Over time, we might start to believe that we deserve the mistreatment, or that there’s something wrong with us.

    This low self-worth can affect every aspect of our lives, from our relationships to our careers. We might shy away from opportunities, convinced that we’re not good enough. We might struggle to form meaningful connections, believing that we’re unlovable. The effects of mistreatment run deep, but they don’t have to define us.

    Mindfulness, self-compassion, and community support can help us rebuild our sense of self. By acknowledging our pain, letting go of what we can’t control, and surrounding ourselves with people who lift us up, we can reclaim our self-worth and begin to see ourselves as deserving of love, respect, and kindness.

    Acknowledge Your Pain and Validate Your Emotions

    For years, I hid behind a mask of indifference. I convinced myself that the bullying didn’t affect me. I didn’t want to give my bullies the satisfaction of knowing they had hurt me. But in reality, each cruel word, each whisper, left a mark on my self-worth. The more I bottled up my emotions, the more they festered, eroding my sense of self.

    The first step in my healing journey was acknowledging the pain and allowing myself to feel it. Through mindfulness, I learned that running from my emotions only gave them more power over me. Instead, I had to sit with them—feel the sadness, frustration, anger, and betrayal. I had to give myself permission to grieve the parts of myself I had lost to bullying. Only then could I begin to heal.

    Tip: If you’re struggling with emotions from past mistreatment, take a moment each day to ask yourself, “What am I feeling right now?” Don’t judge yourself for feeling anger, sadness, or resentment—acknowledge these emotions and sit with them. By allowing yourself to feel, you can begin the process of healing.

    Use Mindful Breathing to Regain Control

    There were countless moments where the weight of gossip and harsh comments felt suffocating. I often felt powerless, lost in a spiral of negative thoughts. Every time I walked into a room, I felt like everyone was judging me, like they had already formed opinions about me based on lies. I didn’t know how to cope with the overwhelming feelings of shame and fear.

    Mindful breathing became my anchor—a simple yet profound technique that helped me center myself in these overwhelming situations. Instead of allowing my mind to spiral, I learned to focus on my breath. It was the one thing I could control, even when I couldn’t control the rumors or the people spreading them. In those moments, mindfulness gave me back a sense of power and control over my emotional state.

    Tip: The next time anxiety or fear begins to take hold, focus on your breath. Inhale deeply, paying attention to the air entering and leaving your body. This simple practice can bring you back to the present moment, offering a sense of calm and control when you need it most.

    Build Self-Compassion to Heal the Hurt

    For a long time, I let the words of others dictate how I saw myself. I internalized the bullying, believing that if so many people thought poorly of me, it must be true. I criticized myself relentlessly, convinced that I was not good enough, smart enough, or likable enough. The words of others had become the lens through which I viewed myself.

    Mindfulness taught me the importance of self-compassion. I realized that I was treating myself far worse than I would treat a friend in need. Through this practice, I learned to be kinder to myself—to approach myself with the same care and empathy I would offer someone else who was struggling. Slowly, I began to rebuild my self-worth, not based on what others thought of me but on how I chose to treat myself.

    Tip: Each day, write down three things you appreciate about yourself. Whether it’s a strength, a skill, or even just how you made it through a tough moment, these small affirmations can help rebuild your confidence. Self-compassion is a powerful defense against negativity, reminding you that you are deserving of kindness—especially from yourself.

    Practice Letting Go of What You Can’t Control

    One of the hardest lessons I had to learn was that I couldn’t control how others perceived me. I spent years trying to defend myself against rumors, trying to correct false assumptions people had about me. The more I tried to control the narrative, the more exhausted and frustrated I became. I realized that no matter what I did, some people would always see me in a negative light—and that wasn’t my responsibility to fix.

    Mindfulness taught me that while I couldn’t control the rumors, I could control my response to them. I learned to let go of the need to be liked or understood by everyone. Instead, I focused on how I saw myself and how I wanted to show up in the world. Letting go of what I couldn’t control was liberating—it allowed me to focus on what truly mattered: my own peace of mind and self-worth.

    Tip: Visualize the hurtful words—or, in my case, the hurtful people—as leaves gently floating down a stream. Observe them as they pass by, acknowledge their presence, but resist the urge to hold onto them. This practice allows you to create emotional space and frees you from being weighed down by things beyond your control.

    Find Strength in Community

    Healing doesn’t happen in isolation. While mindfulness was essential in my recovery, finding support from others played a significant role too. For years, I had isolated myself, afraid that opening up would make me vulnerable to more judgment. But through counseling and support groups, I realized that sharing my experiences with others who understood helped lift the weight I had been carrying.

    Opening up to trusted friends, seeking professional help, and connecting with a community of people who understood what I was going through helped me regain my voice. It allowed me to shift the narrative that had been imposed on me, to reclaim my story, and to see myself not as a victim of bullying but as someone who had the strength to heal.

    Tip: Don’t hesitate to seek help from others, whether through counseling, support groups, or mindfulness communities. Finding a group where people understand what you’re going through can provide both personal growth and emotional support, reminding you that you’re not alone.

    Mindfulness Is a Lifelong Practice

    Healing from mistreatment and reclaiming your self-worth is not an overnight process—it takes time. For me, mindfulness became the foundation of my recovery, and it’s something I continue to practice daily. By integrating mindfulness into my routine, I learned to navigate emotional challenges with grace and resilience.

    Tip: Start small. Whether it’s taking a few moments of mindful breathing or journaling your emotions, every step helps you regain control. Remember, you are stronger than the words that hurt you. With mindfulness, self-compassion, and a supportive community, you can reclaim your self-worth—one step at a time.

  • How to Cultivate Awareness and Presence, Two Powerful Tools for Healing

    How to Cultivate Awareness and Presence, Two Powerful Tools for Healing

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

    In our fast-paced world, juggling multiple responsibilities while managing chronic conditions can make healing seem elusive. However, by harnessing the power of awareness and presence, we can unlock a profound path to recovery that addresses not just the physical symptoms but also the mental and emotional aspects of well-being.

    My Experience with Chronic Pain

    For a long time, I never really thought about my scoliosis. Not that I didn’t feel pain; it was ever-present and intensified by the demands of my busy career, family responsibilities, and a couple of car accidents.

    As I climbed the corporate ladder and juggled family needs, I neglected self-care. Frequent pain flares forced me to take more time off from daily activities, leading me to realize that my struggles were not solely physical.

    What began as occasional aches turned into never-ending pain accompanied by a fear of movement, leaving me bedridden and wondering how I had reached that point.

    Desperate to change, I started researching the role of the brain and nervous system in processing pain. I learned that stress and anxiety can amplify pain signals, making discomfort feel more intense and persistent. Understanding this connection became crucial to my healing journey.

    I soon realized that healing required more than merely managing or controlling symptoms; it involved understanding and changing the patterns contributing to my pain.

    For years, I tried various treatments and therapies, but the relief was often temporary. Recognizing specific patterns—like dealing with stress, pushing through activities, and failing to fuel my body—became key to my recovery.

    Mindfulness and presence emerged as powerful tools in this journey. At first, mindfulness didn’t come easily; my busy mind was adept at conjuring up ideas and plans, leaving me unaware of my ability to quiet those thoughts. However, after years of internal chatter, I found freedom in stillness.

    Over time, I noticed how this practice allowed my body to rest. By embracing mindfulness, I transformed my relationship with pain.

    The Mind-Body Connection in Healing

    To truly understand the importance of awareness and presence in healing, it’s essential to recognize the intricate connection between our minds and bodies. Neuroscience has shown that our thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations are deeply intertwined, forming a complex feedback loop that can either perpetuate illness or promote healing.

    When we’re constantly caught up in the whirlwind of daily life, rushing from one task to another, it’s easy to disconnect from our bodies. This disconnection can lead to a lack of awareness of the subtle signals our bodies send us, potentially exacerbating existing health issues or creating new ones. By cultivating awareness and presence, we can tune into these signals and respond appropriately, setting the stage for healing.

    The Role of Awareness in Healing

    Awareness is the foundation of any healing journey. It involves consciously paying attention to thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations without judgment. This practice has been essential in my own healing process, allowing me to:

    • Identify patterns: By becoming aware of habitual thoughts and behaviors, I’ve been able to recognize patterns that contribute to pain or discomfort.
    • Detect early warning signs: Increased body awareness helps me notice subtle changes in my physical state, allowing for earlier intervention and prevention of flare-ups.
    • Understand triggers: Awareness helps me identify environmental, emotional, or situational triggers that may exacerbate symptoms.
    • Recognize the impact of stress: By tuning into my body’s stress responses, I’ve learned to manage stress more effectively, reducing its negative impact on health.
    • Make informed choices: Increased awareness enables better decisions about diet, activities, and self-care practices.

    Cultivating Presence for Healing

    While awareness is about noticing, presence is about fully engaging with the present moment. Being here now, without getting caught up in worries about the future or regrets about the past, has been crucial in my healing journey because:

    • It reduces stress: When I’m fully present, I’m not ruminating on past pain or anticipating future discomfort, which significantly reduces stress and anxiety.
    • It enhances body-mind communication: Being present allows me to listen more closely to my body’s signals and respond with greater compassion and understanding.
    • It improves pain management: I’ve found that mindfulness and presence can alter pain perception and increase pain tolerance.
    • It boosts the effectiveness of my movement practice: When I’m present during exercises, I’m more likely to stay and feel my body and derive maximum benefit.
    • It fosters a sense of agency over my life: Presence empowers me to take an active role in healing, rather than feeling helpless or overwhelmed by my condition.

    Practical Techniques for Cultivating Awareness and Presence

    Over time, I’ve developed several techniques that help me cultivate awareness and presence. These practices have become essential tools in my healing journey:

    1. Mindful Breathing

    Setting aside five to ten minutes each day to focus on my breath helps me stay connected to the present moment. I notice the sensation of air moving in and out of my nostrils, the rise and fall of my chest or belly, and gently bring my attention back to my breath when my mind wanders.

    2. Body Scan Meditation

    This practice involves systematically focusing attention on different parts of the body, from toes to the top of the head. It’s an excellent way to increase body awareness and identify areas of tension or discomfort.

    3. Pain Reprocessing Techniques

    Chronic pain is often maintained by the brain’s learned neural pathways rather than ongoing tissue damage. By bringing awareness to my pain and reframing my relationship with it, I’ve begun to rewire these pathways. Observing pain with curiosity rather than fear or frustration has helped reduce the emotional charge associated with it.

     4. Mindful Movement

    Incorporating mindfulness into physical activities enhances body awareness and promotes healing. Whether it’s gentle yoga, tai chi, or simply paying close attention to my body during daily activities and walking, mindful movement has become a key part of my routine.

     5. Emotional Awareness Exercises

    Developing emotional awareness has helped me manage stress and anxiety more effectively. Throughout the day, I check in with my emotions, asking myself how I’m feeling and where I feel this emotion in my body.

     6. Mindful Eating

    Applying awareness and presence to my eating habits has improved digestion, helped me make healthier food choices, and fostered a better relationship with food. During meals, I eat without distractions, paying attention to the colors, smells, textures, and tastes of my food.

    7. Daily Gratitude Practice

    Cultivating gratitude shifts my focus from what’s wrong to what’s right, promoting a positive mindset that supports healing. My morning journaling practice includes writing down three to ten things I’m grateful for. This practice helps bring my awareness to the present and the positive aspects of my life.

    Integrating Awareness and Presence into Daily Life

    While dedicated practice times are valuable, I’ve found that the real power of awareness and presence comes from integrating them into daily life.

    One way I’ve done this is by using daily activities as mindfulness anchors, choosing routine activities, like brushing my teeth or daily walking, to practice full presence and awareness.

    I’ve also created transition rituals, using the moments between activities (like getting in and out of the car) as cues to take a few conscious breaths and center myself.

    Lastly, I engage my senses whenever possible. Regularly, I take a moment to notice what I can see, hear, smell, taste, and feel. This simple practice quickly brings me into the present moment.

    Overcoming Challenges

    Cultivating awareness and presence isn’t always easy, especially when dealing with chronic pain or the demands of daily life.

    Whenever I think I don’t have time, I remind myself that even a few mindful breaths can make a difference. Starting small and gradually increasing practice time has helped.

    When my mind won’t stop racing, I remind myself that this is normal. The goal isn’t to stop thoughts but to notice them without getting caught up in them. I gently redirect my attention to my chosen focus (like my breath) whenever I notice my mind has wandered.

    And when it felt too uncomfortable to focus on my body in the beginning due to the pain I was experiencing, I started with brief periods and focused on neutral or pleasant sensations, gradually building up tolerance for being present with discomfort.

    —

    Awareness and presence are powerful tools in the healing journey. By cultivating these practices, I’ve transformed my relationship with pain, fatigue, and anxiety, allowing me to reclaim my life and fully engage in the activities I love. Healing is not just about alleviating symptoms; it’s about reconnecting with the body, understanding its needs, and responding with compassion and wisdom.

  • How I’m Learning to Live with Anxiety, Not Against It

    How I’m Learning to Live with Anxiety, Not Against It

    “Your anger? It’s telling you where you feel powerless. Your anxiety? It’s telling you that something in your life is off balance. Your fear? It’s telling you what you care about. Your apathy? It’s telling you where you’re overextended and burnt out. Your feelings aren’t random, they are messengers. And if you want to get anywhere, you need to be able to let them speak to you and tell you what you really need.” ~Brianna Wiest

    For half of my life, anxiety has been my constant companion. I went from a confident, fiery, and fearless girl to a woman plagued by self-doubt and paralyzed by fear.

    My struggle with anxiety began in college. A sudden shift in my living situation flipped a switch in my brain, leaving me unrecognizable to myself. I found myself living in a toxic environment with roommates who caused so much chaos that I no longer felt safe in my own home.

    This constant state of unease triggered the anxiety that would follow me for years. Instead of acknowledging it, I tried to outrun it. I looked outward for solutions, turning to the law of attraction and other quick-fix spiritual practices, but they only made me feel worse about myself.

    Chronic stress and anxiety wreaked havoc on my body. I experienced severe digestive pain, tingling in my hands and feet, dizziness, nausea, and a myriad of other symptoms. I sought help from doctors, naturopaths, and specialists, but no one could find anything wrong with me.

    Deep down, I couldn’t accept that anxiety might be the cause. I convinced myself that there had to be something seriously wrong with my health. Because I didn’t acknowledge that anxiety was behind it all, the symptoms only intensified.

    I would go months without symptoms, only to be hit by a new wave of terrifying sensations. The anxiety always returned, stronger than before. It felt like a never-ending cycle.

    Then, COVID-19 hit, a perfect storm for my anxiety. Not only was I navigating a global pandemic with a young child, but we were also in the middle of building a new home—a process delayed by the pandemic. We were moving to a completely different city, living out of boxes in a rental house while waiting for our new home to be completed.

    My anxiety surged as I dealt with virtual school for our six-year-old. And then came the most devastating news: My mother was diagnosed with bladder cancer.

    My parents moved into the rental house with us because their house had flooded. Watching my mom deteriorate from cancer only intensified my anxiety. My mother’s diagnosis wasn’t the only encounter I had with cancer; it started to feel like it was everywhere. The constant presence of illness and death heightened my anxiety, making me hyper-aware of every ache and pain.

    Insomnia became my nightly companion, lasting nearly a year. Some nights, I wouldn’t sleep at all.

    Anxiety about not sleeping became as overwhelming as my general anxiety. As bedtime approached, my chest grew heavy with dread. I cried all night, feeling utterly alone. When the world sleeps and you’re wide awake, the loneliness is crushing. It was just me and my millions of thoughts.

    Desperate to shut off my brain, I turned to a nightly glass of wine. I tried various supplements, but they only wreaked havoc on my body, causing my liver enzymes to rise and bringing a host of other health issues.

    Anxiety didn’t just change me; it affected every part of my life, especially my marriage. My husband, who was always calm and patient, started to become stressed and short-tempered because of my constant worry and fear.

    My anxiety created tension between us, and we were no longer the carefree couple we once were. Our conversations often revolved around my fears, and I could see how much it was weighing on him.

    As a mother, my anxiety took away the joy of being with my son. Instead of enjoying time with him, I found myself snapping at him, my patience worn thin by the constant state of unease I was in.

    I spent every day researching, desperate to find a magic cure. I tried cognitive behavioral therapy, tapping, and affirmations. But nothing worked. Though CBT has helped many, it wasn’t right for me.

    Trying to replace my negative thoughts with positive ones felt like plastering over cracks in a crumbling wall. The positive thoughts didn’t feel genuine; they felt like a temporary mask.

    Then I discovered Jon Kabat-Zinn. His books became my lifeline, introducing me to mindfulness and meditation. Slowly, these practices became a part of my daily life. I learned to befriend my emotions instead of running from them or burying them deep inside.

    I invited my anxiety to tea and listened to her worries. I hugged my fear and told her she’s not weak. I asked my anger what she’s holding onto and allowed her to scream and cry. I wrote letters to each of my emotions, and they wrote back.

    We cried together, and for the first time, my emotions felt seen and heard. I was no longer afraid of them; they became a part of me—a part of what makes me human.

    For the past five years, meditation and mindfulness have been my anchors. No, they haven’t cured my anxiety, but they’ve changed my relationship with it. Anxiety no longer controls my life. Instead of spiraling into panic, I ask myself, “What am I feeling? Where in my body do I feel this emotion?”

    These simple questions ground me, bringing me back to the present moment. By labeling the feeling, I strip away much of its power. I tell myself, “I’m feeling anxious, and that’s okay.” I repeat this until I feel calm.

    Sometimes, I even picture my anxiety as a physical presence—a person who needs love, patience, and understanding. I ask this person, “What do you need at this moment?” More often than not, the answer is simple: love.

    My anxiety, like all emotions, wants to be recognized, to be heard without judgment. Sometimes, it just needs a moment to be, to exist without being pushed away.

    Another tool that has been incredibly helpful for me is the STOP method by Jon Kabat-Zinn. Whenever I feel anxiety creeping in, I pause and STOP: Stop what I’m doing, Take a deep breath, Observe what’s happening inside and around me, and then Proceed with awareness. This simple technique helps break the cycle of anxious thoughts, grounding me in the present moment.

    I believe all our emotions seek acknowledgment and understanding. They want to be recognized without judgment. Sometimes they just need a moment to breathe, to exist in a safe space where they can shift from overwhelming to understood. They want to know you won’t abandon them but rather guide them gently toward clarity.

    Looking back, I realize that anxiety has changed me in ways I never expected. It has made me more empathetic toward others who are struggling with their own battles. I’ve learned that everyone is carrying something heavy, even if they don’t show it on the outside.

    My anxiety has also taught me the importance of self-compassion. I used to be my own harshest critic, but now I’m learning to be kinder to myself, to give myself the grace to be imperfect.

    Even though I’ve learned tools to manage my anxiety, it’s still a part of my life. There are days when the anxiety feels overwhelming, and the old fears creep back in. On those days, I remind myself that healing isn’t a straight line—it’s okay to have setbacks.

    When I feel the familiar wave of anxiety, I turn to the practices that I’ve learned. Mindfulness, the STOP method, and self-compassion. I let myself feel what I’m feeling without judgment, and I focus on small, actionable steps to bring myself back to the present moment.

    What keeps me motivated is knowing that I’ve come this far. Every setback is a chance to practice the tools I’ve learned, and each time I do, I’m reminded of my strength and resilience. My journey with anxiety is ongoing, but with each day, I grow more capable of handling whatever comes my way.

    Your emotions don’t define you—they are a part of you. A sign that you are alive and deeply human. Embracing them, rather than battling them, has brought me peace, and I hope it can do the same for you.

  • How I Found my True Self in the Space Between my Thoughts

    How I Found my True Self in the Space Between my Thoughts

    “I am not my thoughts, emotions, sense perceptions, and experiences. I am not the content of my life. I am Life. I am the space in which all things happen. I am consciousness. I am the Now. I Am.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Everything changed the moment I learned I was not my thoughts.

    There I was, reading Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth, when I read this line: “What a liberation to realize that the ‘voice in my head’ is not who I am. Who am I then? The one who sees that.”

    I felt a shift. Wait, what?!? How can I not be my thoughts? Aren’t my thoughts who I am? They are in my head all day, every day. I thought they were what made me… me!

    This mind-blowing moment hit me deeply. Right then and there, I changed. Once my mind was out of the way, my true self emerged.

    For nearly forty years, I lived on autopilot. I did not like a lot of the thoughts in my head, but I had no idea that I had control over them. Instead, I cringed, tried to push them away, distracted myself by staying busy, and worked hard on my image and contributions to the world.

    My deep, shameful secret was that no one would want to know me if they knew the mean thoughts I was ruminating on in my head. I felt like a truly awful person deep down. Whoa. I am so sorry, past self, that you lived like that. I hold you in love. Deep love.

    Separating me and my thoughts has become my daily practice. I remember the first time I was able to dialogue with my thoughts. Weeks after reading that mind-blowing passage, I accidentally spilled the contents of my vacuum cleaner on the kitchen floor.

    “You’re stupid. What a mess. What a waste of time. Look what you did.” These mean words flew through my mind. I sat in the middle of the floor and put my hand on my heart.

    “Who is saying that?” I asked.

    A swirl of dark energy inside and around me got tighter and darker and meaner as it growled, “Me.”

    “What is your purpose?” I asked with a mix of curiosity and fear.

    “To keep you in line,” it sneered.

    “In line with what?” I asked.

    “You’re such a failure. You don’t know how to do anything right,” it continued.

    The swirl tightened, and I kept my hand on my heart to protect myself.

    “What do you want me to know?” I asked.

    “I have to keep you safe,” it said.

    “Who are you keeping safe?” I asked.

    Immediately, an image of myself, age eight, appeared in my mind’s eye. She was sad, sitting on the floor in the front hallway of my childhood home. My parents were at work, and my babysitter refused to do her hair before school. She had decided that at eight I was old enough to do my hair before school. This left me confused, sad, and lonely.

    “Oh, honey,” I felt my heart open to her. “What do you need?”

    She looked at me through tears and said, “Can you do my hair?” In my mind’s eye, we moved in front of the hallway mirror as I combed her hair and put it into pigtails.

    “I see you and I love you,” I told her. She looked relieved and smiled tentatively from the corner of her mouth.

    I felt my love pouring into her, and the dark swirl lifted, hovering nearby before leaving my energy field.

    As I processed this interaction with this fear of failure part that was protecting my sad inner child, I was able to stay in my conscious, healthy adult mind and release that inner voice.

    I know that the critical, egoic part came online to protect my inner child from feeling sadness and loneliness. As children, rather than judge or dismiss our caregivers as wrong, we blame ourselves, and that is what my younger self did until I reparented her. I assumed I was wrong for asking my babysitter to do my hair instead of recognizing that her neglect wasn’t my fault.

    Now, when I make a mistake or spill something, I do not hear that mean voice as strongly. If it comes up, I know how to dialogue with it.

    I have come a long way since I spilled the vacuum cleaner contents. The mean voice that once dominated my thoughts has lost its power.

    The most profound lesson I have learned is this: We are not our thoughts. We are the awareness of them, the consciousness that observes and chooses them. This knowledge allows me to step out of the stream of negative self-talk and into the spaciousness of the present moment.

    I invite you to try this. The next time you make a mistake or face a challenge, pause. Notice the thoughts that arise, but do not latch onto them. Instead, ask yourself, “Who is saying that?” In that space of awareness, you might discover, as I did, old beliefs that are ready to morph and an inner child just waiting to be noticed.

  • How 10 Days of Silence Brought Me Perspective and Peace

    How 10 Days of Silence Brought Me Perspective and Peace

    “Removing old conditionings from the mind and training the mind to be more equanimous with every experience is the first step toward enabling one to experience true happiness.” ~S.N. Goenka

    I just spent ten days sitting in absolute silence with about 100 strangers, time I previously thought I should’ve spent networking and applying for jobs as an unemployed twenty-something with little savings and no assets, living in a completely new country with no network or job prospects.

    There were no conversations, no eye contact, no listening to music, no exercise, no reading or writing—just silence, with twelve hours of meditation each day.

    I applied to the program on a whim, was accepted off the waitlist the day before it began, and bought my plane ticket impulsively the night before. With little time to prepare and even less certainty about what lay ahead, I couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps this was exactly where I was meant to be, even if it wasn’t what I originally had planned.

    This retreat is a course on Vipassana meditation, a practice I discovered through Dhamma.org, taught by the spiritual guru S.N. Goenka. This ancient technique, deeply rooted in the teachings of Buddha, requires intense focus on the physical sensations of the body, observing them without attachment or aversion.

    The aim is to cultivate a deep sense of equanimity and insight, leading to a more balanced and peaceful state of mind. It’s a journey inward, stripping away the layers of noise and distraction to reveal the true nature of our existence.

    Of course, the website paints a serene and enlightening picture. While it truly is all those things, there were moments when I questioned my decision. At times, the retreat felt less like a sanctuary of peace and more like a self-imposed prison.

    This retreat was undoubtedly one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it was also one of the most transformative. It completely rewired my brain and changed my relationship with myself.

    After those ten days, I emerged as the most present and clear-headed I have ever been. Vipassana is often touted as a path to enlightenment, and it proved to be more than just a meditation technique. It is a rigorous self-confrontation, an unfiltered dialogue with the incessant chatter of one’s thoughts. In this space of relentless introspection, I came face to face with the raw, unedited version of myself.

    This experience came at a crucial time in my life, having recently quit my stable and glitzy job in entertainment to pursue a dream of living abroad, devoid of job security, a support network, or friends. The insights and clarity I gained through Vipassana meditation arrived at a moment when they were most needed, clearing a mental fog that seemed to have clouded my vision for years.

    And here I am to share the lessons and revelations from those transformative ten days.

    The Experience 

    The retreat took place in a hostel nestled in a remote village in Austria in late winter. When I arrived for the Vipassana meditation course, the cool and crisp air that was often shrouded in mist buzzed with anticipation.

    It was “day zero,” and we participants chatted lightly as we checked in, handed over our belongings, and met our roommates.

    As our vow of noble silence commenced after the 9 p.m. orientation, the sense of solitude set in. We knew that starting at 4 a.m. the next day, our routine would be drastically different.

    The first three days were dedicated to Anapana meditation, focusing on the sensations of the breath at the nostrils and upper lip. While the concept was straightforward, the challenge for me was substantial, especially due to the physical demands.

    Having just learned to ski the day before, I suffered from severe aches in my shoulders, neck, and back from repeated falls on hard snow, making it difficult to maintain a single sitting position for extended periods. The pain was a constant distraction, and looking around at the quiescent participants in the meditation hall, I felt acutely alone in my discomfort.

    Despite feeling isolated in my struggles, I soon noticed something uplifting. After each meditation session, relieved by the sweet sound of a gong, everyone would rush outside to stretch and shake off their stiffness. Some even sneaked in a few yoga poses or aerobic stretches behind trees (which is usually prohibited). Watching everyone stretch and move, I realized that even in our quiet, solitary struggles, we were all finding our own ways to ease the tension and feel a bit of relief.

    By the fourth day, we transitioned to the core practice of Vipassana meditation, which involved a more intricate mental process of scanning each part of the body with “unwavering equanimity” to feel sensations throughout.

    The early days of this practice felt like a mental battlefield. Repressed emotions and thoughts that I had long distracted myself from now screamed in my mind, creating a cacophony of emotions swirling in my mind.

    I thought I’d only struggle with wanting to leave when I felt negative emotions. However, I found that even positive emotions like inspiration, hope, and motivation were just as unsettling. These uplifting feelings made me want to run home and take action just as much as feelings of shame or sadness did.

    By midway through the fourth day, however, I experienced a significant breakthrough. My mental focus crystallized; the incessant chatter quieted, and for the first time, I managed to sit motionless for a full hour.

    This newfound calmness was soothing, and I was convinced it heralded a smoother path ahead. However, day six proved to have other plans. At 4 a.m., I was jolted awake by a panic attack, my heart racing and a nagging tightness in my chest, plunging my mind into turmoil and shattering the calm I had found. The serenity I had felt was replaced by a torrent of negative thoughts that felt inescapable.

    After this, I considered asking to leave during my next daily consultation with the assistant teacher. However, when the time for my consultation arrived, I reflected on my experiences and noticed a small but meaningful shift in my mental state. This glimmer of progress gave me the strength to persevere and stay committed to the process.

    The teacher, noticing my distress, offered reassurance that my intense emotional experience was a normal part of the process, advising me to face these emotions with equanimity rather than judgment.

    This pivotal conversation reminded me that experiencing a range of emotions is an inherent part of being human.

    The retreat, though intensely challenging, taught me valuable lessons about the transient nature of emotions and the strength found in communal endurance. By the end, I not only gained insights into my own psyche but also developed a deeper compassion for others, recognizing that despite our individual struggles, we share a common journey of growth and discovery.

    Insights and Reflections

    Emotions

    From that pivotal sixth day onward, my approach to my emotions and to meditation itself evolved profoundly. Rather than being overwhelmed by my feelings, I learned to observe them from a distance, recognizing their transient nature and gaining insights that I could apply to my life beyond the meditation cushion.

    Previously, I had a profound misunderstanding that I wasn’t just experiencing feelings—I was enshrining them as immutable truths, anchoring my identity and decisions to their fleeting presence. I had been using my emotions as a barometer for reality, attaching unwarranted significance to each emotional wave without recognizing their transient nature.

    For example, if I felt anxiety about a decision, I might interpret that anxiety as a sign that the decision was wrong rather than as a natural response to uncertainty. This led me to avoid potentially beneficial but challenging opportunities simply because of the discomfort they invoked. Similarly, if I experienced joy in a situation, I might overly commit to it without critical assessment, mistaking transient happiness for long-term fulfillment.

    However, through mindful observation, I began to understand the ephemeral nature of emotions—they come and go, often influenced by myriad external and internal factors that do not necessarily have a direct correlation with the objective reality of the situations that provoke them.

    This insight led me to a more nuanced understanding that while emotions are valid experiences, they are not definitive guides to action. They are, rather, one component of a broader decision-making process that should also involve rational analysis and reflection.

    Self-confidence 

    Moreover, I came to understand that seeking external validation for my decisions was unnecessary. The concept of a “best” decision is elusive; what truly matters is making choices that resonate with my personal beliefs and values.

    This profound period of self-reflection allowed me to become more comfortable with myself and to trust my own judgment. This shift was incredibly liberating, particularly at a pivotal moment in my life where I faced the daunting task of choosing between two vastly different paths, each enveloped in its own uncertainty.

    I realized how much of my past behavior was driven by a need for external validation. It wasn’t always about seeking approval, but rather looking for someone else to affirm my choices, to nod in agreement, or to give me the green light to proceed with my plans. Unbeknownst to me, I had been stifling my own instincts and insights, inadvertently relegating the authority over my life to others.

    Each choice I make, grounded in self-awareness and self-compassion, leads me down a path that contributes to my growth and learning, regardless of the outcome.

    This perspective shifts the focus from fear of making a “mistake” to an understanding that every step taken is part of a larger journey towards personal fulfillment and wisdom. By being present and committed to myself, I can navigate life’s uncertainties with confidence, knowing that all experiences are valuable and that my inner guidance is a reliable compass.

    Love

     Formerly, I saw love as a destination, a goal to be achieved, wrapped in expectations and specific outcomes. This perspective treated love as something to be received passively—a feeling handed down rather than actively cultivated. My approach was centered around control, trying to steer love toward a preconceived notion of what it should look like, often ignoring the dynamic and evolving nature of genuine connections.

    Love as an act, rather than just a feeling, transforms it from a passive state to an active engagement with life and the people in it. It’s about pouring into relationships freely and generously, not intending to receive something in return but to foster a genuine connection and mutual growth.

    This shift in perspective has taught me to appreciate love’s subtle presence in life—how it’s not just found in grand gestures or declarations, but in the quiet, everyday actions that bind lives together. Understanding love as a fluid, evolving force rather than a static goal has freed me from the burdens of expectation and control.

    True love is about being solid and sturdy with someone without needing to define every moment or cling too tightly. It’s about letting love for others—romantic, familial, friendly, even for strangers and animals—flow without possession.

    Contribution

    This evolved understanding of love profoundly influences how I approach my career and contributions to the world. Previously, I saw my career mainly as a way to chase personal fulfillment, driven by the often-cited advice to “follow your passions.” While this was empowering, it also kept me in a bubble of self-focus and entitlement, where I was more concerned with finding the perfect job that would maximize my happiness.

    However, as my concept of love matured, so did my view on my professional life. I began to see my work not just as a means for personal achievement but as a chance to contribute to something bigger than myself. This shift in thinking about love—as something you give without expecting a specific outcome—has mirrored in my career approach.

    Now, my career decisions hinge not only on what brings me joy or utilizes my skills but also on how I can use those skills to positively impact others. It’s about leveraging what I know and can do for the greater good, not just for my own success.

    Embracing this broader perspective has made me more conscious of the interconnectedness of our actions and our collective well-being. Just as love builds bridges in personal relationships, a career grounded in contribution and service can foster connections that lead to community growth and improvement. It’s changed how I set professional goals: instead of just aiming for personal milestones, I focus on creating value that uplifts others.

    Connectedness

    On day ten, we finally broke our vow of noble silence after breakfast. After speaking with the other participants, a profound realization emerged—although our individual narratives and life experiences were markedly different, the emotional outcomes and insights we arrived at were astonishingly similar. This fascinating contrast highlighted that, despite our unique paths, at our core, we feel the same fundamental human emotions.

    This commonality in our emotional responses underscores a deeper, universal truth about the human condition in that we are more interconnected than we might believe. The emotional threads that connect us do not vary greatly from one person to another; joy, sorrow, fear, and hope are universal experiences that transcend individual circumstances.

    Vipassana meditation, focused on observing one’s own mind and body, amplifies this realization by stripping away the superficial differences and revealing the underlying uniformity of our emotional nature.

    This realization served as somewhat of an ego death, where the sense of being profoundly unique or a special case diminished. It brought to light the collective human experience, suggesting that while our life stories add richness and variety to the human experience, the emotional landscape we navigate is shared. We are not isolated in our feelings; rather, we are part of a vast continuum of human emotion that binds us together.

    Embracing this understanding fostered a profound sense of empathy and solidarity. It diminishes the ego’s insistence on our separateness and highlights the shared journey of growth and understanding that we all undergo.

    The Return to the World

    The morning after day ten was another humbling moment. I got my phone back, and turning it on was overwhelming. In just ten days, life had moved on without me—friends got promotions, planned trips, made big career jumps, ended relationships, and began new ones.

    It was sad to miss out yet heartening to return to positive developments in their lives. This contrast served as a poignant reminder of the impermanence and relentless pace of the world around us and the importance of finding grounding in our inner selves.

    Upon returning to the real world, I felt a profound alignment between my mind and body that I hadn’t experienced before. I could see things as they were, not just as reflections of my internal dialogue. I wasn’t stuck in my head anymore; I could slow down, be with myself, and actually enjoy my own company—something that used to terrify me.

    It’s almost as though the experience altered my brain chemistry. For the first time, I felt normal in my own skin, a sensation that was entirely new to me. Growing up in the digital age, I rarely, if ever, had the opportunity—or the need—to sit with my thoughts for more than ten minutes. Allowing myself the space to sit, feel, and think deeply was not just valuable; it was a profound and rare experience that I believe many people deny themselves in our fast-paced, modern world.

    Overall Reflections

    Reflecting on my recent Vipassana retreat, it has become evident how such experiences are profoundly relevant in today’s fast-paced, often superficial world.

    During these ten days of deep introspection, I confronted layers of myself that were cluttered with unresolved emotions and unexamined thoughts.

    In a world where action is prized, stillness can be revolutionary. It’s not just about silencing the chatter of the outside world—including the instant feedback loop of social media that we rely on for our self-esteem and decisions—but more importantly, understanding the internal dialogue that shapes our perception of ourselves and our lives.

    Recalling my initial reservations about spending precious time in silence when I could have been networking or job hunting, I now see how misplaced those concerns were.

    My Vipassana experience did not magically solve all my challenges or answer all my questions. However, it profoundly reshaped how I view my journey through life. It wasn’t about finding a perfect job or even perfect peace, but rather about learning to navigate the inevitable ups and downs with a bit more grace and a lot more self-awareness.

    This deeper understanding has not only helped me appreciate the quiet moments of reflection but has also prepared me to engage more meaningfully with the bustling world around me.

  • 5 Pillars of Mindful Awareness That Transformed My Life

    5 Pillars of Mindful Awareness That Transformed My Life

    “When things change inside of you, things change around you.” ~Unknown

    When I was twenty-three, I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. It was not until two years later, when I stopped taking medication, that I discovered I had a mental health disorder linked to my menstrual cycles.

    Meditating daily has been foundational for my well-being. It helps me manage the physical expressions of anxiety and bad moods. It allows me to be more accepting of myself and grateful for the many positives in my life.

    But it is the awareness journey that mindfulness has paved over these last seven years that has reached so many different corners of my life.

    The awareness I developed from regular practice seeps into my life as a positive multiplier, pushing further progress in emotional regulation and health. It inspired me to start journaling daily. It encouraged me to face myself, my fears, and my choices.

    With awareness comes meaningful change. I completely pivoted my life, walking away from my career in the investment industry to prioritize things that I discovered I valued the most.

    This is just one transformation that has come from developing different types of awareness. Together, these form the pillars of a healthy, fruitful relationship with myself and the world around me.

    Everybody’s awareness journey will be different; you cannot know where yours will lead. But in case it helps with your reflection and journey, I am sharing the questions I faced on mine.

    Awareness of Emotions: Taking Back Control from the Unconscious

    Mindfulness practice revealed how much my emotions had a hold over me. I previously saw no separation between myself and my emotions. I let them convince me of things that weren’t true and lead my decisions.

    But now my relationship with my emotions has transformed from one of “I am this feeling” to “this feeling is happening to me.”

    Awareness of feelings reveals some key things. Firstly, emotions are temporary. Secondly, many emotions come from an instinctive, animalistic part of us, cropping up to protect us. This means they can often impact our perceptions and rationality.

    Emotions are there to serve us, as is our stress reaction. But we must recognize these bodily reactions for what they are—processes that need completing. Stress and negative emotions are often linked to significant health problems, but the power to minimize their impacts is within our reach.

    With awareness, I recognize my changing views, desires to act, and needs to service all the different parts of myself. The latter includes the person I am at my core, the part that houses my rationality and values. Quick, emotional reactions do not tend to represent this part.

    At first, it was difficult to accept all the parts of myself that awareness uncovers. But it paved the way for enhanced emotional regulation and management. I now know how to take the messages my emotions are trying to send me, feel them, settle them, and act in a way that represents all parts.

    When we do this, we change unconscious reactions, led by emotions, to conscious responses. It’s okay if we still have racing thoughts; it’s how we act that matters. We take back ownership of our lives from our emotions by making constructive choices.

    Reflecting on your emotions:

    • Can I name my emotions and the feelings toward the events or people involved?
    • How did the desire to react manifest?
    • Why might I feel this way, and what are my needs?
    • Does this point to any unhealed pain, fears, or insecurities?
    • How did my feelings and perceptions change, and what contributed to this?
    • Which thoughts are supported by evidence, and where do I need more clarity?

    Awareness of Capacity: Getting the Best Out of Myself

    When we are not feeling like our best selves, we naturally blame our circumstances or problems. We often completely overlook how much our inner space influences our feelings, our functioning, and what we get out of the world.

    By paying attention, I discovered how so much inside of me is always changing. My motivation, my energy, and my physiology change across the month. Patterns started to appear—times when my self-doubt and limiting beliefs were louder, or when my cognitive or physical strength were weaker.

    Some things cycle naturally. Some are heavily influenced by “too much of this” or “too little of that.” I see the links between physical factors, mindset, and progress.

    You can consume all the motivational quotes about success and personal growth out there, but if you do not prioritize your health, you are setting out on the wrong foot.

    Intuitively, we function best when we look after ourselves. We are most confident when we can recognize our self-doubt for what it is.

    With awareness, I can identify and meet my needs. Whether that be self-compassion practice when my self-doubt is loud or fueling my brain when it feels slow. I also match activities to when they best suit my capacity, working with myself instead of beating myself up.

    Reflection questions for awareness of capacity:

    • When do I feel most energized, motivated, creative, focused, and confident?
    • What are my motivation and energy killers and boosters?
    • When do I find it easiest to make decisions?
    • Which activities work best for when my brain feels slow, my body feels weak, or my social capacity is low?

    Here are some things to consider: sleep, nutrition, movement, connection with nature, time with loved ones, stress management, and downtime.

    Awareness in Relationships: Finding Peace and Improving Connections

    Reflecting on some past relationships, it often feels like I wasn’t a part of them at all. Driven by unconscious reactions and people-pleasing, they hardly felt authentic, and this really limited their richness.

    We can learn a lot about ourselves from our approach to relationships. Our deepest traumas manifest in our triggers. Our actions are mostly driven by our fears and insecurities, often underpinned by the need for validation and fear of rejection.

    Once we deal with these at the root and take back our life from our emotions, we enter a new space. Challenges with other people stop becoming reasons to walk away or make an enemy, but instead become opportunities to build something stronger. Or at least they give us a chance to act more authentically.

    Awareness of my own changing feelings, needs, and typical behaviors provides a level of empathy that is nothing less than superhuman.

    Known as a main ingredient for successful relationships, empathy is the understanding and patience we need to lovingly consider things from another’s perspective. Most of the time, everybody is trying their best to navigate the world and their relationships, acting in ways they’ve learned from their experiences rather than out of selfishness.

    Boundaries are still key when there is a misalignment of standards and values. But empathizing is useful for finding acceptance where needed. Where alignment exists, empathy is the tool that helps relationships grow and enriches connections.

    Reflecting on relationships:

    • What are my values, wants, needs, and expectations, and do I know where they come from?
    • Do I approach things authentically, or do I have ulterior motives?
    • What challenges do I often face in relationships, and what is my approach usually?
    • What assumptions do I make about how others should behave?
    • Do these answers reveal areas of required self-work?

    Awareness for Connection: Feeling Present in the World

    Becoming aware and being present are one and the same thing. When we practice mindfulness, we pay attention to the present moment. Mindfulness isn’t just about cultivating self-awareness; we also train our brains to be aware of everything around us.

    Before my awareness journey, I lived in my head. Mulling over events, worrying about things that could be, and constructing scenarios, I took attention away from everything around me.

    With mindfulness practice, you transform your relationship with your thoughts, just like you do with your emotions. You realize thoughts are just thoughts, and you don’t have to get so wrapped up in them. They become much easier to let go, and with time, your mind can become quieter.

    When we practice being present, we train ourselves to notice the little things around us. I hear the birds in the morning. I feel the wind against my skin. I see the pattern on the tie of the person sitting opposite me.

    Awareness of the world is connection to the world. And it is connection that ultimately helps us feel mentally well. This kind of awareness gives us the sense of grounding we need to get out of our heads and feel alive in the world.

    Maximizing external awareness:

    • Practice awareness of sounds, sensations, and smells during meditation.
    • Take mindful moments during the day for a few deep breaths.
    • Get out into nature.
    • Make activities mindful by engaging the senses. What can I see, hear, smell, and feel?

    Awareness of Living: Leading an Intentional Life

    Previously, I worked toward other people’s ideas of success and things I thought I “should” have or do. And I know I’m not alone.

    Again, fear underpins a lot of our motives, as we dread being judged or not accepted. We often prioritize conforming over doing things that are meaningful to us personally. We lack self-compassion, compare ourselves to others, and find it hard to say no.

    Intentional living starts with really understanding why we want the things we want and do or don’t do certain things. Then we can take ownership of our life direction and make choices in line with our values, not what we feel is expected of us.

    With awareness, we can trust that any consequences of living authentically are insignificant compared to the benefits.

    It is totally possible to go through life passively, going with whatever is presented to us. It is easy to pick up short-term pleasures and continually get sucked into the moment. But if we do this, we will always be haunted by a sense of unfulfillment.

    Awareness shines a light on passive living and encourages us to enjoy the present while making decisions for the long term.

    Reflecting on your approach to life:

    • Why do I want the things I want?
    • Am I measuring progress by comparing myself to others?
    • What is meaningful to me, and what are my values?
    • Which parts of my life lack alignment to these?
    • What do I think is expected of me, and how can I deal with these pressures?
    • When did I last make active decisions or changes for alignment in my life?

    Your Awareness Journey

    Ultimately, this is a journey that will never end. We are constantly changing, and life around us is forever moving, so there will always be a need for reflection. You might become great at recognizing your feelings and staying present, but it will still be something you should practice to maintain.

    When we accept that, like our mental well-being, awareness is not a destination, we can enjoy continually managing life rather than redundantly wishing for things to be different.

    With awareness, life becomes an art. Regardless of what it throws at you, you have a powerful tool to navigate and make something out of it.

  • The Benefits of Vipassana Meditation and How to Start Your Practice

    The Benefits of Vipassana Meditation and How to Start Your Practice

    “Meditation is not a way of making your mind quiet. It’s a way of entering into the quiet that’s already there.” ~Deepak Chopra

    Have you ever felt overwhelmed by the chaos of daily life, longing for a sense of calm and clarity? That was me a year ago, trapped in a cycle of overwork and unhealthy habits. It wasn’t until I rediscovered meditation, particularly Vipassana, that I began to find true peace and transformation. Here’s my story and how Vipassana changed my life and how it could change yours too.

    My Personal Journey with Meditation

    I’ve always been drawn to self-improvement activities like meditation, exercise, and healthy eating. However, I often ignored my own advice and indulged in moderate-to-heavy drinking and overworking, embodying a “work hard, play hard” mentality. In college, I was introduced to meditation and yoga, but my practice was inconsistent, lacking the structure or commitment needed for lasting change.

    About a year ago, I became determined to transform my life. I was drinking more than I liked, eating poorly, overweight, and overstressed from my highly demanding job as an actuary. I committed to a daily practice of meditation, exercise, and healthy eating.

    After browsing for books on meditation, I discovered 10% Happier: How I Tamed the Voice in My Head, Reduced Stress Without Losing My Edge, and Found Self-Help That Actually Works—A True Story, by Dan Harris.

    The book’s simple approach—eyes closed, focusing on the breath—resonated with me. My OCD tendencies made mantra-based meditation daunting; I worried a mantra might exacerbate my symptoms.

    The Limits of Breath-Based Meditation

    After a few months, the commitments were paying off, but I wasn’t getting the mental calm and peace I’d read so much about with meditation.

    As I started listening to podcasts about meditation and sober living, I noticed a recurring theme: Many people, including myself, found it challenging to stay committed to focusing solely on the breath because it can become monotonous. This led me to question, “Is all I get just 10% happier? Why not aim for 100%?”

    Breath-based meditation has become incredibly popular and is often seen as the beginning and end of meditation practice; however, there’s a common perception that it is the ultimate form of meditation. While it is great for beginner meditators or for those comfortable with a more casual practice, it may be insufficient for those seeking more. Vipassana offers a deeper, more transformative experience.

    Discovering Vipassana Meditation

    During my exploration, I found The Art of Living: Vipassana Meditation as Taught by S. N. Goenka, by William Hart. Vipassana meditation is believed by some to be the actual method of meditation practice used and taught by the Buddha over 2,500 years ago. Vipassana takes meditation to the next level by addressing the deeper layers of the mind.

    According to The Art of Living, breath awareness is the foundation, but true progress comes from observing bodily sensations. It emphasizes maintaining equanimity, or mental calmness, while experiencing these sensations. Practitioners maintain a balanced mind in the face of physical and mental discomfort, heal past traumas, and foster mental resilience.

    The book is organized into ten chapters, in sync with the typical ten days of a Goenka-style meditation retreat, described more below. To put the importance of breath-focused meditation, or Anapana meditation, into perspective, seven chapters are dedicated to Anapana, while only three focus on Vipassana. Breath-based meditation’s importance is fundamental to a successful Vipassana practice.

    Vipassana in Practice

    My own experience with Vipassana has helped me tremendously. As one who has struggled with severe anxiety, panic attacks, and hypochondria, it has helped me break the cycle of interpreting daily aches and pains as life-threatening illnesses and to accept the bodily sensations with more equanimity.

    By observing sensations without reacting, I have trained myself to dissociate minor physical discomforts from anxious thoughts. As a result, the frequency and severity of my anxiety and panic attacks have been significantly reduced.

    Even on the days I do have stronger aches and pains, I focus on the pain itself and notice the physical sensations are constantly changing. They don’t feel as bad as what my brain tells me the pain should feel like.

    I continue meditating on the pain and let the physical sensations come and go. Eventually, the pain becomes more tolerable and often forgettable.

    Another benefit is that I feel more at peace with childhood traumas and that some of the experiences I’ve clung to for all these years aren’t as bad as I’ve made them out to be. When a memory of these bad experiences arises, I observe and feel my bodily sensations with equanimity. I permit the feelings to be with me until they subside.

    It isn’t always easy. Recently, there was a meditation session where I had a more profound realization that brought forth deep-rooted feelings of fear and terror.

    I began to struggle to breathe and started to hyperventilate. I was scared. Goenka teaches during these times to refocus back on the breath until the emotion and sensations subside and equanimity returns.

    I rode that wave and trusted the process, and my breath eventually calmed down. That session was one of the most profound experiences of my life and really helped me on my spiritual journey toward peace and calm.

    Mechanics and Technique of Vipassana Meditation

    For those interested, the technique of Vipassana meditation involves several steps:

    1. Preparation

    Sit comfortably with your back straight and eyes closed. Take a few moments to settle and focus.

    2. Anapana

    Start with Anapana meditation, focusing on your breath. Observe the natural flow of breath as it enters and leaves your nostrils without trying to control it. This helps calm the mind and prepares it for Vipassana.

    3. Body Scan

    After calming the mind, begin the Vipassana practice by systematically scanning your body from head to toe. Observe each part of the body in turn, noticing any sensations—tingling, heat, pressure, etc. Keep your attention moving without lingering too long on any one sensation.

    4. Equanimity

    As you observe sensations, maintain a sense of equanimity. Understand that sensations are transient and try not to react to them with craving or aversion. This helps in developing mental balance and insight.

    5. Focus

    When strong emotions and thoughts come, return the focus to the breath until they subside and equanimity can be regained, then go back to the body scan.

    6. Regular Practice

    Consistent daily practice is essential. Start with short sessions and gradually increase the duration as you become more comfortable with the technique. With repeated practice, some of the strong traumas begin to lessen and fade as you become more at peace with yourself.

    The Ten-Day Vipassana Retreat

    To deepen my practice, I hope to attend a ten-day Vipassana retreat. These retreats provide an immersive experience in Vipassana meditation with a structured schedule of meditation, instruction, and silence.

    The retreat offers a unique opportunity to disconnect from daily distractions and focus entirely on the practice. It is intense but promises profound insights and lasting benefits for those who complete it. It includes a strict schedule of meditation, instructions, and “noble silence,” providing a conducive environment for deep mental purification.

    The retreat is free of charge, funded by donations from previous participants. More information can be found on the dhamma.org website.

    My Progress to Date

    Since committing to meditation last year and strengthening my practice with Vipassana, I’ve seen significant improvements in my physical and mental health. I have weaned off all my prescription medications, lost twelve pounds, and gained a newfound energy I haven’t felt in years. I even went for a run the other day just for fun and to let off some extra energy, something I haven’t done in a long time.

    Even more dramatic, I realized my actuary job wasn’t worth the stress and long hours, and I quit. I bought an RV and have been traveling with my dog, exploring the country and having adventures. I’ve also started a blog dedicated to my passions in health and travel.

    Final Thoughts

    For me, maintaining a balanced sense of work and play where I can enjoy life’s rich pageant is what truly matters. Vipassana meditation is quickly establishing itself in my life as the doorway through which I am free to drop my past baggage at the door, step through, and live in the present moment like it was meant to be lived.

    I’m excited to see what the next year brings for me. If you’re curious about Vipassana, I encourage you to give it a try.

  • Healing from Chronic Fatigue: The Amazing Impact of Self-Compassion

    Healing from Chronic Fatigue: The Amazing Impact of Self-Compassion

    “If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.” ~Dalai Lama

    In my mid-thirties, my active and adventuresome life as a broadcast journalist collapsed. It began with a trauma, followed by flu-like symptoms that stuck around for thirteen years. Almost overnight, I lost the pep to walk around the block, much less file reports for the evening news.

    A battery of doctors diagnosed me with chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS), among other diagnoses. They said I’d have to live this way since there was no reliable cure. I became one of the medical mysteries I used to cover.

    Needless to say, I was terrified and grief-stricken. To add insult to illness, I beat myself up for ‘failing’ to get well. I should be able to master my new vocation of healing, reasoned my Type A personality.

    I used every ounce of energy I had to research my own health story. Intravenous vitamins, antiviral medications, sage-burning healers—I tried them all. I eliminated the foods I enjoyed and washed my elimination diet down with mounds of herbs.

    Sadly, I was also feeding myself bitter pills: self-pressure and self-criticism. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t make my body well, save a career I loved, or actualize the family I dearly wanted.

    There were enormous reasons for grief. But I didn’t have the support in and around me to feel this maelstrom of emotions. My mind swooped in to distract me.

    I blamed myself mercilessly, even though my symptoms started after I was sexually assaulted by a man who walked away free. There’s something unhealthy about a society that rarely punishes rape, even though an American is sexually assaulted every sixty-eight seconds, according to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network.

    We also know that people who experienced adverse childhood experiences have higher rates of chronic illness as adults. There’s mounting evidence that adult stressors and trauma can also topple our health. This is what happened to me, although it took years to make this connection.

    No matter whether we’ve experienced big ‘T’ trauma, little ‘t’ trauma, or the unavoidable insults of being human, we need self-compassion. This quality was once illusive to me. But after years of illness, I started softening.

    It was too painful to endure the pressure of trying to be a perfect patient. The hard-driving approach I adopted in my journalism career didn’t work when I could barely cook a meal.

    Exasperated by the medical maze, my yoga mat and meditation cushion became my medicine. I’d stretch like a cat in my backyard patch of grass. Trees, birds, and poetry became my companions.

    Eckhart Tolle’s voice was a melody to my nervous system. I steeped myself in his words each day. Instead of lamenting all the things I couldn’t do, I began to actually enjoy the imperfect present moment.

    You could say I accidentally fell into self-compassion. It’s not that I gave up on healing, but I began treating myself kindly for my very real suffering. I resonated with Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem Kindness, in which she writes:

    “Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore.”

    I awakened with sorrow and spent many insomniac nights mired in it. Much as I wish joy had become my teacher, suffering got the job.

    Soon, I started noticing kindness in and around me. My parents would drop by for a movie. We’d curl up on the couch, ditch my anti-candida diet with a bowl of popcorn, and sink into the relief of other people’s stories.

    Meanwhile, my state disability ended, and I was petrified about how I’d support myself as a single woman without a job. One day, a flier came in the mail saying, “Kindness is like a boomerang that comes back to you. We’re dedicated to financially supporting members of the media in a life crisis.”

    That was me! I’d never heard of this non-profit and don’t know how I got on their mailing list. I applied, got financial aid, and managed to save my house from the clutches of foreclosure!

    In the face of crisis, life’s generosities abounded. A friend listened to my heartbreak. My mom brought homemade chicken soup. One yoga teacher came by with superfood treats.

    Since I paused my pursuit of a cure, I decided to use my spoon-sized energy for an online writing class. Here, I found a community of kindred spirits. A fellow writer told me she recovered from chronic fatigue syndrome through a type of mind-body healing.

    This approach was brought forward by John Sarno, Howard Schubiner, and other physicians who realized the role of unresolved emotions in perpetuating chronic symptoms. Miraculously, her story gave me a sudden boost of energy and catapulted my recovery!

    I stepped into a new paradigm and realized I could overcome my seemingly endless flu-like symptoms. Rather than attacking viruses, I learned to soothe my brain and nervous system.

    No wonder I was hypervigilant. I’d first experienced a massive trauma, then suffered the stress of living with chronic symptoms I felt powerless to overcome. I’d subsequently lost my ability to support myself financially and function in the world during the prime of my life.

    My dear father also passed away during these years, as did three other close family members. My brain was on overload and became stuck in a hypervigilant state—exacerbated by fears that I was ill for life.

    In a training I took a year later, Dr. Schubiner described fibromyalgia as PTSD for the body. I finally felt seen and understood. This was the polar opposite of how I felt with most of the fifty practitioners I saw over my CFS saga.

    While allopathic medicine is miraculous in fighting infections and saving lives, it often neglects the role of emotional stress and trauma on our physical health. Physician and author Gabor Maté writes, “All of the diagnoses that you deal with—depression, anxiety, ADHD, bipolar illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, even psychosis, are significantly rooted in trauma. They are manifestations of trauma.”

    I needed to explore my storehouse of trauma, which I did through meditation, writing, and somatic therapy. I also shifted my beliefs about my condition and moved slowly back into activities. It took months of dedicated practice to retrain my brain so that I could safely inch out of my bubble.

    I brought mindfulness to personality traits like people-pleasing, pressure, and perfectionism since they can fuel chronic symptoms. I once heard a physician named John Stracks say, “When I think of why people develop pain, self-criticism is at the top of the list.”

    I wanted tools to soften my harsh inner dialogue, so I dove into Kristin Neff’s work. The research psychologist says self-compassion fills us with good-feeling hormones like oxytocin, while self-criticism fuels stress hormones like cortisol. This alone causes a cascade of physical symptoms.

    When our subconscious brain senses danger—even if it’s an internal, psychological one such as “There’s something wrong with me”—it activates our nervous system. In flight or fight, we might feel anxious or aggressive. In freeze, we can feel immobile or dead.

    Neff describes three elements of self-compassion: mindfulness, common humanity, and self-kindness. Here’s the gist of each one as I understand them.

    Mindfulness: We acknowledge and witness our physical or emotional pain as a felt experience in our body. We might say something like, “It’s hard to feel so sad and exhausted.”

    Humanity: We remember that suffering is part of being human. Although our circumstances are unique, we’re not alone in this universal experience.

    Self-Kindness: We treat ourselves as we would with a dear friend, offering ourselves the supportive words we yearn to hear. When we’re struggling, we ask with sincerity: What do I need right now?

    With self-compassion as my companion, I started speaking to myself tenderly. An indescribable relief would wash over me. Instead of feeling abandoned by life, I felt seen and witnessed by the only one who knew what I needed: myself.

    This dovetails beautifully with mind-body healing. A big part of my recovery was tracking sensations in my body with open curiosity. Fatigue felt heavy. Pain was burny. Brain fog felt spacey.

    To the extent I could, I stopped fighting or fleeing from my feelings and started holding them with curiosity. Often, restlessness and rumination reared up. When I stuck with it, sometimes my system settled and my symptoms shifted into emotions.

    Other times, my body spoke to me. Please don’t push so hard. Don’t say yes when you mean no. Tell me I’m okay just how I am. I need to do something fun.

    As I tended to my hurts in this new way, the physical symptoms began subsiding. This took patience and persistence. Many months later, I was back in the land of the living. Not only that, I was experiencing life in a more authentic and embodied way than I had before the CFS.

    This isn’t woo-woo mumbo-jumbo. Neuroscience shows that our brain creates pain, fatigue, anxiety, and other stress-related symptoms. It does so based on a perception of danger, whether that’s a wayward car, an angry spouse, or harsh inner dialogue.

    “Certain behaviors can bring us to a state of high alert without our even realizing it,” writes Alan Gordon in The Way Out. “There are three habits I see again and again in my patients that trigger fear and aggravate neuroplastic pain: worrying, putting pressure on yourself, and self-criticism.”

    When our nervous system shifts into a threat state, it communicates through symptoms. Sensations from dizziness to dullness are encouraging rest and inactivity. With ongoing stress, our brain can become sensitized, firing memos to our body in rapid succession.

    Kristin Neff’s research on self-compassion corroborates this. “Pain is often caused by tension and resistance, so when we soften a little bit as opposed to a harsh reactive stance, it tends to reduce the amount of pain we physically experience,” Neff says in The Healthy.

    Recently, I felt tension flare when speaking with a curt customer service agent who couldn’t help with a large payment I was supposed to receive. It was, apparently, stuck in limbo. My stress level rose, and I felt a knot in my throat—surely full of all the things I wanted to say to her!

    After two hours, my money was still missing in action. My frustration soared as I’d frittered away precious time I’d set aside to write my blog, conveniently on self-compassion. (The irony is not lost on this writer.)

    Instead of trying to fix it further or rush back to work, as I would have done before, I acknowledged that I was angry and scared. I reiterated how impossible the modern age is sometimes. And I said to the trembling part of me, “I am sorry you’re dealing with this stress. What do you want and need right now?”

    It turns out that I needed to growl (literally!). I needed to walk (briskly). And I needed to practice somatic meditation. I did all three and felt a wave of calm energy. The oxytocin potion, perhaps?

    I was ready to return to work with vigor and fresh material for my blog, conveniently enough. That jives with studies showing that self-compassionate people are less anxious and depressed than self-critical people.

    If self-compassion feels like a foreign concept to you, you’re simply a modern Homo sapien. For a long while, it was like a distant planet to me. With intention, we can cast our gaze towards self-kindness and move steadily into its orbit.

    The next time you feel hurt, scared, or symptomatic, you might pause and ask yourself: How am I feeling right now? What words or deeds would feel supportive to me? You may be surprised by what you find in the medicine chest of your very own heart.

  • The Beautiful Gift of Finding Presence in The Ordinary

    The Beautiful Gift of Finding Presence in The Ordinary

     

    “For a long time, it had seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last, it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.”~Alfred D. Souza

    I recently came across an old photo album from when I was in my twenties. All these snippets of my life back then—going out clubbing, those harsh Canadian winters, walking in the back field with my dog, hanging out at my uni campus, watching live music at my favorite outdoor festival. I remember it all so well.

    It felt like that time of my life would never end. It just went on forever. I remember how I was always craving something bigger and better than little old Ottawa. Wasn’t life meant to be cooler and more exciting?

    Everyone told me my twenties would be the best years of my life. I felt so much pressure to live up to these expectations. And now here I am, staring at these photos with years of perspective.

    I’ve lived in two different countries since then and traveled to countless more. I’ve married and had two kids. Now it’s all just a memory, contained neatly inside a heavy photo album. It reminds me of this quote above and how, in those days, I was always waiting for something. That one thing to make life exciting. But that was it—life was happening, even in the waiting.

    It reminds me of where I am now. Deep in the trenches of motherhood and so incredibly sleep-deprived. I feel waves of guilt that I’m not enjoying every minute of it. Everyone tells me I must; it ends all too soon. Social media blares: Enjoy every minute! You only have X more summers left before your kids move out!

    I can already see myself many years from now, looking at photos from this moment. These days right now that pass like thick mud. When my baby learns to clap her hands, and sit up without support, and crawl around to locate every last crumb on the floor.

    The days when my toddler is piecing together the words to express how she feels more and more. Every day, something new.

    The days when a shower is a luxury. When I wake up feeling jet-lagged, like I’m on a perpetual flight, without ever arriving anywhere.

    The days when I’ve gone beyond my limit again. And again. These days when I find myself falling into this trap of wishing things were a bit easier, and then I could really enjoy myself.

    Then I remember that this is normal. It’s normal to yearn for things to be different when they feel hard. It’s normal to compare. It’s normal to feel so much in this highly saturated digital and addictive world.

    Not every day is amazing. Not for any human on this earth. Despite what social media shows us. Perhaps instead of being told we need to enjoy every minute of motherhood or our youth or whatever it is, maybe we should instead tell each other to be present as often as we can. To be a full participant in our lives. Whether it’s good or bad, or annoying or underwhelming, or not quite reaching our expectations in some way.

    Perhaps it’s better to make it a practice to show up and be fully engrossed in that moment. To practice accepting that this is your life right now. Even if just for a moment.

    I say practice because I don’t think it’s possible to be completely present all the time. Naturally, there will be times when we search for our phones in need of mindless distraction. Naturally, on tough days, we will long for weekends, or vacations, or some escape from the mundanity. In these moments, it’s just as important to practice forgiveness for not always enjoying everything. For being human.

    It’s important to remind ourselves from time to time of the blatant obviousness that there is no destination. That the only destination we’re heading toward is our death. Or old age, if we’re so lucky.

    For most of us, life is a series of ordinary moments strung together. The more time we spend chasing the extraordinary, the more we miss what’s in front of us.

    So, here’s your reminder to stop waiting for something to happen for you to enjoy your life. Wherever you may be on your journey, may you show up wholeheartedly.

  • The Most Useful Mindfulness Technique I Know

    The Most Useful Mindfulness Technique I Know

    “This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival.” ~Rumi

    When people start out with mindfulness, they want to feel better. They want all the worried, angry, or regretful thoughts to pipe down a little and stop making them feel so bad.

    That’s great, as far as it goes, and mindfulness can deliver it if you practice consistently. But there’s something even better on offer, and it both is and isn’t about feeling better.

    I learned this on an intensive meditation retreat.

    There I was, excited to be there and ready to attain states of bliss, clarity, and insight. I’d been waiting a long time for this and was determined to make it count.

    But my mind just wouldn’t play ball. Instead of delivering the desired bliss, clarity, and insight, all it had for me were bad memories. One after another, in a seemingly endless stream.

    Every embarrassing, disappointing, or otherwise upsetting moment from my life. Things I didn’t even know I remembered, let alone was still upset about. But here they were, both vivid and upsetting.

    This wasn’t what I had come here for at all. I started to feel miserable. I wanted the thoughts to stop.

    On the third day, I had the chance to talk to the teacher who was leading the retreat. We got about fifteen minutes every other day and otherwise had to stay silent.

    I told him about my problem a little despondently, not expecting much from the conversation.

    He didn’t miss a beat. His instructions were clear and specific: “Let the memories come, feel the emotion in your body, and send kindness to it.”

    Huh?

    This wasn’t entirely new to me. At the meditation classes I had been going to, we had been learning to feel our emotions in our bodies. At first, this was impossible for me and seemed, frankly, silly.

    “My emotions aren’t in my body,” I thought, “they’re in my mind.” Feeling them in my body sounded like fanciful hippy stuff.

    But over the months that I’d been meditating, to my surprise, I had started to feel my emotions in my body. First the familiar ones, like anger, fear, or sadness, but also stranger, nameless ones—emotional sensations that I couldn’t pin down.

    So I wasn’t completely non-plussed by what the teacher on the retreat suggested. I had even once listened to a guided meditation that was similar to what he was suggesting. But it hadn’t done anything for me, so I didn’t expect it to now.

    But there I was, stuck on a ten-day retreat with all my bad memories, and the teacher was the only possible source of help and guidance. So I started to do what he said.

    Here came a memory. I noticed it and quickly focused on my body. And there it was—a distinct pang of shame.

    I stayed with that for a few moments, until I realized that the memory had gone.

    Here came another one, and I did the same, this time trying to be kind to the feelings in my body.

    Then another memory, and another. It was a little while before I realized that I was actually wanting them to keep coming. I was so engrossed with my new technique that I couldn’t get enough of the memories.

    Great, I thought. Maybe this is what the teacher intended. I’m almost having fun here.

    But there was more.

    As I continued to focus on the feelings in my body, I realized that they weren’t that bad.

    In fact, they weren’t bad at all. They weren’t painful; they were just sensations of warmth or coolness, lightness or heaviness, sinking or rising, and so on. They weren’t a problem once I was focused on them and not the thoughts that came with them.

    So here, after all, was the insight that I was looking for.

    Emotions aren’t such a problem when we see what they’re made of! When we pull them apart into their component parts—thoughts and feelings—they turn out to be paper tigers.

    This was a revelation, and it kept me well occupied, observing the sensations in my body and trying to catch all the details: the size and shape of the sensations; the ways they changed moment-by-moment. The whole experience had turned into an intriguing rather than upsetting one.

    I kept on going like that for a couple of days, until the memories stopped coming of their own accord. I wasn’t even relieved when they stopped. If anything, I felt a bit bored.

    What I learned was the single most useful thing I have ever learned about mindfulness. But, unfortunately, a lot of people don’t seem to know it.

    I learned that mindfulness isn’t about getting rid of anything or trying to feel better. Really, it’s about learning to feel more fully and directly, to turn toward and explore whatever feelings happen to be arising. Doing so leads to less suffering.

    And, ironically enough, feelings often leave more quickly when you stop trying to make them leave. As I heard another meditation teacher say, “Feelings just want to be heard.”

    Feelings are messengers that are trying to tell us something, and if we could just give them a proper hearing by really feeling them, they’d soon be on their way.

    If you want to try this technique for yourself, here’s a bit more detail on how to do it:

    Sit or lie still, with your eyes closed or your gaze lowered.

    Tune into your breath for a few moments, or some other body sensation if you prefer.

    Then start to think of something that upsets you a bit. Only a bit—not the most upsetting thing in your life.

    Let yourself get caught up in the thoughts; let them really get their teeth into you.

    Once you are feeling a bit upset, let go of those thoughts and focus your attention on your body. See if you can notice how that upset feeling shows up in your body.

    If you can’t feel emotions in your body, you may need to work on sitting or lying in meditation and just trying to notice them there. They’ll start to show up with some practice.

    If you can notice any upset feelings in your body, focus your attention on them. Try to do it with a curious attitude, or even one of kindness.

    Explore the sensations in as much detail as you can, trying to really get to know them rather than get rid of them.

    And if you feel overwhelmed at any point, of course you can just stop.

    Keep going for as long as you feel it’s useful, and then see how you feel after. The feeling may or may not have gone, but the hope is that, even if it’s still there, you’ll be less bothered by it being there.

    Once you have gotten the hang of this technique, you can use it whenever unpleasant emotions show up, whether in meditation or in the rest of your life.

    So, there you go. Now you know the most useful mindfulness technique that I know!

  • The Simple Lifestyle Changes That Healed My Mind and Body

    The Simple Lifestyle Changes That Healed My Mind and Body

    “If you don’t give your mind and body a break, you’ll break. Stop pushing yourself through pain and exhaustion and take care of your needs.” ~Lori Deschene 

    When I collapsed that evening while fishing, I was fortunate not to land head-first into the water.

    It was April 2018, a few weeks before my fiftieth birthday, and after work, I decided to walk to the local pond and spend the remaining hours of light fishing.

    After a short time, though, I started to feel hot, a little lightheaded, and dizzy, and then the lights went out. I only blacked out for a second, but it was long enough to fall to the ground, and it scared the living you-know-what out of me.

    The next several months involved working with doctors who ran a number of tests to see what might have caused the event. With no one issue found that would explain the collapse, my primary doctor started asking about my lifestyle habits.

    She asked me to describe a typical week.

    I told her I got up early Monday through Friday, got to work by 8 a.m., and got home around 7 p.m. Except on nights when I went to visit my mom at the nursing home; then I got home around 9 p.m. unless she was in the hospital again, and then it was later. I’m her healthcare power of attorney, so when she goes to the hospital, I’m always there, too.

    On Saturdays, I’d wake up early, do the weekly chores, and run as many errands as possible by dinner time. Then, I’d eat, watch a few hours of TV, and go to bed.

    On Sundays, I’d get up early to finish any chores and errands, then spend the afternoon visiting my mom at the nursing home again, have dinner with her, and I would usually get back around 7 p.m., followed by a few hours of TV while doing some last-minute laundry, and then go to bed.

    She asked me how often I took vacations.

    My answer surprised me because I had never considered it before, but over the past five (or so) years, I have taken no vacations. All of my vacation and personal time accrued at work was either used up for doctor and hospital visits with my mom or because I was sick myself.

    She asked me about my hobbies and what I do for fun.

    I said I liked to go fishing for an hour or so when time permitted, but other than that, I really didn’t have anything else in my life. To be honest, this was a pretty humbling and embarrassing admission.

    She asked about my eating and exercise habits.

    My answer again surprised me: I did literally zero exercise, and I mainly ate based on cravings and convenience, which generally included high amounts of sugar and fat. Not to mention, I drink coffee all day at work and at home.

    She was polite in her delivery, but her message was stern as she explained the problem and resolution.

    Her assessment of the collapse I experienced had less to do with that one incident and more to do with a lifestyle that was more than my current mental and physical capacities could handle.

    Through years of neglect, she continued, my overall mental and physical health had declined. Those faculties needed to be built back up, which would require willpower on my part and time so nature could run its course to heal what was broken.

    She started listing all my problems, which included being overweight, having high blood pressure and terrible blood work, and feeling stressed out and tired all the time.

    I needed to start a daily regimen that included eating nutritiously and doing daily exercise. That did not surprise me.

    What surprised me was when she said I needed to fit more personal time for hobbies and activities into my week and more quiet time and rest into my days because both help our minds and bodies heal in different but essential ways.

    I nodded in agreement, and for the first few days, I did precisely that, but then the train flew off the tracks.

    Life happened, as it has a tendency to do, and I regressed back to my prior unhealthy ways. Instead of following my doctor’s advice, my routine started to center again around work, my mom, and doing chores.

    I felt tired, drained, and unhealthy all the time, but I stubbornly pushed myself through each day, somehow thinking (or maybe just wishing) that tomorrow would be better.

    Fast-forward about a year and a half, and COVID hit, and like everyone else, it added stress to my already overstressed life.

    My mind and body didn’t respond well.

    That’s when I started to have anxiety issues, and the associated panic attacks were so severe they landed me in the hospital several times over the next few months. These attacks became so repetitive that I started to have trouble leaving my home to go to work. Eventually, I even had difficulties going to the grocery store.

    I couldn’t believe I was so scared of the attacks that I couldn’t even leave home to get groceries.

    This was a low point for me. In fact, the lowest.

    During this time, my doctor told me point-blank that I needed to either get a handle on my lifestyle or start taking some medications for all this.

    As a related backstory, she knew I didn’t want to take medication. I’ve had depression most of my adult life (which, of course, added to all this) and, at one point, took medication to get it under control. I worked for a few years on managing that and was so happy when I was able to stop taking medication for it that I vowed I’d never take meds again (or at least it was going to be as a last resort).

    She stressed to me again how this was probably all fixable with some time and drastic lifestyle changes. I needed to stop doing so much each day, get more downtime, learn to be mindful of what my mind and body needed, and then be sure to provide those things so I could start to recover and get my health back.

    So I started to prioritize my health and wellness.

    First, I slowed down and started working fewer hours while focusing on maintaining productivity. I mostly accomplished this by not micromanaging people as much as I used to and spending less time on distractions like socializing by the water cooler.

    I started to prioritize my health by eating clean foods and exercising daily.

    I became a student of mindfulness, listening to what my body and mind needed and providing it daily. I tried my best to become a positive thinker, focusing on my own path, and stopped paying attention to others.

    My life became more about me, and I was stingy with my time.

    I pursued what made me happy, cutting out what didn’t. I reduced the time I spent using social media, reading, and watching the news and instead used that space for quiet time. I learned to use breathing exercises and simple stretching techniques to nurture a positive mindset.

    Instead of rushing around multitasking and trying to see how much I could get done, I focused on what needed to be done, ignored the rest, and only did one thing at a time.

    I now took breaks in between tasks.

    Most importantly, I started with small, realistic lifestyle changes and made only one or two new changes each day moving forward. This approach helped me maintain consistency while also improving and progressing in the following days, weeks, months, and years.

    In October 2020, I was more than seventy pounds overweight, I had high blood pressure and poor blood work, and I had trouble leaving my home to get groceries for fear of anxiety-induced panic attacks.

    In February 2022, I had lost seventy-five pounds, my blood work was perfect, my blood pressure and anxiety were gone, and leaving home was no longer a problem.

    I healed (and then some).

    At that time, I sold everything that didn’t fit into my (really nice) backpack. Now, I am slowly traveling Asia full-time as a digital nomad, starting a new career as a freelance writer.

    I share this journey with you for three reasons.

    First, as the quote at the beginning of the article suggests, if you don’t take care of your mind and body, the collective ‘you’ will eventually break. We are all wonderfully different, so how that plays out will vary, but minor issues left unchecked now can turn into more significant problems that are more difficult to fix later on.

    Second, if that does happen, don’t freak out. Just visit your doctor to get the professional help you need. Chances are, you just need to make lifestyle changes to turn things around. Our mind and body have amazing healing capabilities; we just need to get in tune with what they need and provide that daily.

    Third, there was a surprising life lesson in all this for me: When you learn to be mindful of providing your mind and body with what they need, you nurture an amazingly rewarding lifestyle.

    That’s because the process involves prioritizing what you need and what is important to you and choosing not to be concerned with everything else because they are distractions. This provides ample room for rest, quiet time, and everything else that replenishes and nourishes essential elements in your life instead of depleting and depriving you of them.

    What remains is a life filled with only the things you value and need, which, I must say, is pretty awesome.

    So don’t wait until things build up and hit you like a ton of bricks at once.

    Be mindful and pay attention to the signs that you are not feeling well along your way, mentally or physically, and then slow down to address those issues before moving on.

  • How I Found the Good Within the Difficult

    How I Found the Good Within the Difficult

    “Inner strengths are the supplies you’ve got in your pack as you make your way down the twisting and often hard road of life.” ~Rick Hanson

    “I had a rough day. Can we talk?” I asked my husband in 2015 after coming home from work. He nodded, and we sat down on the couch.

    I continued: “I got really challenging performance feedback from my manager today. It was hard to hear because I know it’s true.”

    It was the most significant critical feedback I had received at once. All afternoon, I’d ruminated on the conversation. I had sat in the meeting speechless, with my heart pounding, as my manager, kind as he could, gave examples of ineffective ways I had been showing up.

    While we discussed what I was doing well too, I couldn’t stop thinking about the opportunities to improve. All I remember being able to say at the end is: “I need time to process what you’ve shared.”

    I hadn’t realized until that conversation how much what I was feeling on the inside translated to how I behaved.

    Inside, I constantly felt frustrated, stressed out, and overwhelmed. And that was the basis for how I interacted with others. I often reacted poorly when things didn’t go smoothly. I repeatedly interrupted others, not fully listening in the first place. I complained a lot in and outside of work. It felt so far from what I knew I was capable of.

    Underneath, I was in pain, and I had just become aware that I was taking it out on myself and others.

    I had recently been diagnosed with “unexplained infertility” and was preparing to start fertility treatment.

    I was having a difficult time coping: I blamed everyone and everything, including myself; I was so self-critical and beat myself up; I felt deeply ashamed; I tried to resist my painful feelings.

    When I look back, I have a lot of self-compassion for my past self throughout this experience. I didn’t yet know how I could cope better, and it was incredibly hard.

    I shared the feedback I received with him and went onto say, “What happened to me? I used to show up better: calmer, kinder, more approachable. I know I’m capable of showing up like that again. I want to try to improve. I want to learn how to meditate. I think it will help.”

    This was my moment of noticing.

    In the noticing, I had a choice. I could choose to take responsibility for my behavior. I could choose to try to improve.

    I had tried meditating previously and thought I was a “bad meditator.” My husband, on the other hand, meditated daily and taught meditation workshops. He had exposed it to me for years. I had seen how he had benefited from it. However, I had thought meditation wasn’t for me. Until now. I was at a point where I knew I couldn’t keep operating the same way. So I figured, why not try again?

    In the few months prior, we had started listening to podcasts and Dharma talks focused on mindfulness that resonated with me. It helped me realize mediation could benefit me.

    Taking in the Good

    One of the first things I did was to look at psychologist and best-selling author Rick Hanson’s book Hardwiring Happiness. I learned about what Hanson calls the brain’s red and green zones.

    The red zone, Hanson explains, is the brain’s reactive mode, where you go into fight, flight, or freeze. It’s when your mind focuses on fear, frustration, and heartache. It serves an important function when there is a threat, but it’s supposed to come in brief spurts.

    Unfortunately, Hanson shares, in modern life, the reactive mode has become a new normal for many people. I suddenly realized: it had become too common for me. I felt like my brain was in the red zone much of the day.

    The green zone, in contrast, is the home base of the brain, according to Hanson. The brain’s responsive mode. Your mind in this mode experiences peace, contentment, and love. When you are in this state, you can respond to life’s challenges without getting overwhelmed by the stress of them.

    Through Hanson, I discovered there is a lot we can do to strengthen our responsive mode by taking in the good, no matter what is going on in our lives.

    And that’s what I wanted to start doing. I would need to be intentional to take in the good, I learned, since the brain has a negativity bias.

    I wanted to take in more contentment—the antidote to frustration. I started with committing to thirty-day daily lovingkindness and gratitude practices.

    In the morning, I did a ten-minute lovingkindness meditation. In the evening, my husband and I would say three things we were grateful for, really soaking them in.

    At the end of the thirty days, I did feel more contentment toward myself and others. I felt less frustrated. I became more aware of when I was getting triggered. And sometimes, I would remember to pause and give myself space before responding. Other times, I would catch myself after reacting negatively and apologize. It was a start.

    I was surprised that there was so much I could do to change internally without changing my circumstances. Did I suddenly become monk-like, where nothing fazed me? No. And that was not my aim nor is it realistic.

    Dan Harris, a former ABC News anchor and prior meditation skeptic turned advocate, asserts in his book 10% Happier that practicing mindfulness and meditation will make you at least 10% happier. That was something I could attain.

    Perhaps I was 20% less frustrated after a month. Perhaps I had 10% more awareness of my triggers and reacted that much less.

    Whatever the exact amount, the changes made a noticeable difference to me. And, over time, I heard positive feedback at work that I was “showing up better.”

    The thing with practices is once you start them, to maintain the benefits, you need to keep them a part of your life. In my case, I kept taking action to build upon what I was learning.

    Next, I began a daily mindfulness meditation practice, which I continue today. Jon Kabat-Zinn, the founder of Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction, defines mindfulness as: “awareness that arises through paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment, non-judgmentally… in the service of self-understanding and wisdom.”

    Three months later, I attended the “Search Inside Yourself” mindfulness and emotional intelligence two-day program. As the name suggests, I learned tools and did exercises to grow inner resources for accessing my own self-awareness, empathy, wisdom, and resilience—the me in the green zone. It was the spark that catalyzed more deeply nurturing my well-being.

    That was the start of me taking ownership of my experience to improve my well-being. What began as wanting to show up better became so much more than that.

    Reflections on the Noticing

    Those examples of actions, along with many others over time, transformed my relationship with myself and my life.

    They were the first steps for me to develop a more nourishing relationship to myself—one that was more self-compassionate, kind, and loving; one where I could be present enough to take in and enjoy the good; one where I allowed myself to experience the difficult emotions I was facing without judgment.

    It was from this place that I could then show up more whole, responsive, and kind.

    Within a year period, I grew more than I had in the previous five years combined. This experience of profound growth gave me something positive and exciting to focus on. Something I did have agency over, during an incredibly challenging time in my life. Where much felt out of my control. And it gave me greater skills to get through the hardships that I would continue to face, including burnout and fertility challenges.

    I’ve reflected on this time as one that woke me up. It was when I stopped acting like a victim to my circumstances, became more aware, and started doing inner work to grow. Choosing this path was a gift I gave myself.

    While my experience with career burnout was complicated and would continue to have ups and downs, it became more manageable after the noticing. It was another two years before I became pregnant naturally, after choosing to stop fertility treatments when it no longer felt right following failed IUIs.

    I don’t want to know what those years would have looked like without my focus on inner work. It taught me how to cope. It enabled me to focus on what I could control, which made it all the more endurable. It showed me how to experience goodness—peace, contentment, and love—daily, no matter what was going on. Most of all, it gave me something meaningful to focus on.

    I did not wait until I had a child for the next phase of my life to begin, my original mindset when we started trying to get pregnant. I lived more fully than before the noticing. I learned how to experience the beauty along with the brokenness.

    It was the moment of noticing that started me on a path that would significantly transform my life. And it would set me up for creating a life and career more on my terms, with well-being at the center, in the next phase of my life.

  • Are You Paying Attention to the Beauty of this World?

    Are You Paying Attention to the Beauty of this World?

    “’I got saved by the beauty of the world,’ she said to me. And the beauty of the world was honored in the devotion of her attention. Nothing less than the beauty of the world has become more present, more redemptive, for more of us in the encounter with her poetry.” ~Krista Tippett, on interviewing poet Mary Oliver

    The act of paying attention seems rather simple. Simply being aware of life happening all around us. And yet most of us are what we might call asleep at the wheel. We perform daily tasks and engage ourselves in human interactions without a moment given to the here and now taking place in the present.

    Instead of enjoying the scenery while on a drive to finish the day’s errands or the conversation with a person directly in front of us, our bodies perform rote tasks while our minds ruminate over discussions that already took place or those that we feel we must mentally rehearse for future preparation.

    I can think of nothing worse than choosing to plan a future conversation that may or may not take place instead of deciding to be present for whatever the moment brings. Yet we are all guilty of this and other forms of past and future thinking, and we do them quite frequently.

    I really need to get more bottled water/pasta sauce/rolls of toilet paper from the basement.

    I wish she would call me back.

    How long before I need to start worrying about this? Can I do something to change it?

    What should I make for dinner tonight?

    This is just a sampling of the daily thoughts taking up precious space in my head. Our habit is to be lost in a trance. Thinking. Planning. Striving. Worrying. We forget why we’re here, and in the forgetting, there is suffering. Each day requires a gentle nudge back to our true nature. The nature that exists only in the here and now.

    “Before going to bed, I glance back over the day and ask myself: Did I stop and allow myself to be surprised? Or did I trudge on in a daze?” ~Br. David Steindl-Rast

    Our attention to the present moment is what helps us enjoy a life of meaning and purpose. It can keep us from feeling as if life is devoid of any significance. This is why remembering is so important.

    Caught in that state of nonstop thinking, believing we are alone and separate with our egos and internal chatter, we may wonder: Is this all there is? Am I anything more than a hamster running on a wheel of thoughts in some crude experiment?

    Because it doesn’t really appear all that special when our life seems to exist as a series of repeating thoughts between the ears (many of which seem punishing and unkind), rather than a kaleidoscope of sensations and experiences—along with moments of pure wonder, heartbreak, beauty, pain, and awe.

    So how can we find meaning in our lives when we are repeatedly lost in our own thinking? A beautiful place to start is with intention. Intentions help us to remember our true nature and keep us aligned with our higher selves.

    Tara Brach, renowned psychologist and teacher of Buddhist meditation, once gave a beautiful lecture on intention. She says that the more you focus on your intention, the more you pay attention. These two work together, back and forth, in a circular manner.

    The caring and compassion that comes from an increased attention to this world deepens your desire of intention, and the two feed each other in a beautiful reciprocation. What results is a habit of being more awake and alive in this world. We begin to think less, and to become more present in the here and now.

    Tara reminds us that having an intention alone is not enough. We must pay attention in order to manifest our intentions. We cannot just meander along and fail to pay attention to what is in front of us.

    “When you start setting your intention and pay attention, they actually allow your Heart and Spirit to manifest.”  ~Tara Brach

    The power of intention has helped me train my brain to be aware of my surroundings in a new and profound way. Since I know that my brain is hardwired for thought, I recognize that I must be intentional about paying attention to the world around me.

    And my intention should be to see the whole of my environment and the person or people around me, in all their messy and magnificent layers. Therefore, my intention is this: see people and my surroundings, in all their beautiful joy and struggle, and send my love and compassion to all.

    This increased awareness certainly didn’t happen overnight; it takes repeated training and subsequent brain rewiring. I still get lost in thought from time to time, but fortunately now I can catch myself falling into the trance of thought and return my attention to the here and now. This attention allows me to live from my intention, and the two dance together in a beautiful waltz, just as Tara suggested.

    When I was first getting started, I learned of a simple idea from Eckhart Tolle that resonated with me immediately. He said that when you get into your car to leave your home, take just thirty seconds to become aware of your immediate surroundings. No thinking, just observing.

    What do you see? Items in your garage, or on your driveway? Things inside your car? Or nature just outside your car window?

    Unless you are on your way to the hospital with an emergency, Eckhart says that each of us have thirty seconds to stop and take notice. I was glad he mentioned that, because most often we feel like we have no time to spare when all we are talking about is just half a minute of our day. This simple practice serves as a gentle reminder to be more present and aware as you leave your home and embark on your day. It also helps me set my intention. It was a great beginner lesson for me and one I still use today.

    Meditation and other mindfulness practices have also helped me increase my attention to this world. Study after study shows how meditation practice can not only increase focus and reduce distractions but allow us to bounce back from those inevitable distractions as well. Since the aim of many meditative practices is to help us sustain attention while letting thoughts pass through awareness, it seems logical that meditators would have an increased level of focus and attention.

    Meditation also teaches us to slow down. The tendency in our culture is to do everything at a rapid pace–whether that is driving, grocery shopping, cooking dinner, or any number of activities both inside and outside the home. When we slow down, however, we notice much more of the world that we failed to see while we were in overdrive.

    Slowing down our bodies slows down our brains. Once the brain is moving at a gentler, less frenetic pace, it removes the heavy charge of thinking and makes room for the present moment.

    “When I move half as fast, I take in twice as much.” ~Tara Brach

    Our brains are made for thinking. Lots of it. This fact makes mindfulness practices and setting intentions difficult. However, each of the practices above help us to rewire our neurons by doing a series of actions on purpose.

    Every second spent being mindful and living out our intentions helps our brains to internalize these actions by creating pathways in the brain. What begin as thin and barely recognizable trails you may see in an overgrown forest become deeply grooved track beds after repeated and daily rewiring. The key to maintaining mindful attention then, like most things, is practice.

    I desire a life of meaning. In order to have that, I know that I need to keep myself awake for all of life’s moments. There are some moments that I may not want to see. However, I must not shy away or tune out from anything I may be averse to. It is in the paying attention that I get to understand all of life in its richness and complexity. Its heartbreak and beauty.

    Some of us experience pain in the present moment that is just too great, and because of this we fall below consciousness in an attempt to ignore the deep and profound heartache that exists in the here and now.

    Anesthetics used to numb the pain, such as alcohol, drugs, food, or compulsive shopping, alleviate the feelings associated with grief, bullying, physical or emotional abuse, divorce, and many other forms of distress. However, though these feelings may temporarily subside, they return once again when we awaken from our unconscious state. And the negative feeling or emotion is often more intense each time it resurfaces. It’s begging for our undivided attention and care.

    Previously, I had no awareness of the fact that falling below consciousness was my go-to move. Perhaps because society has somewhat normalized this tendency, or because I did not want to sit with my act of ignoring what felt too difficult to face.

    Years of spiritual and mindfulness teachings slowly worked their way into my psyche, and I learned that beneath the illusions of daily life, both good and bad, there is an unshakeable inner peace that always endures.

    I didn’t need to develop this peace by hours of sitting meditation or any number of courses, retreats, or books on spiritualty; I only needed to uncover what had been there all along, waiting patiently to be discovered.

    Difficulties, both great and small, continue to present themselves. This, of course, is life. Though I have been tempted at times to return to a comforting salve, my awareness of these feelings and the nature of them (transitory and not part of my true being) allow me to sit and be with the experience, even when that experience is unpleasant.

    Author Parker Palmer once said: “My heart is stretched every time I’m able to take in life’s little deaths without an anesthetic.”

    Personal growth occurs not when we are warm and cozy and everything seems to be going all right, but when we are able to be present with the painful moments of our lives.

    We can take refuge in the fact that, no matter our situation or circumstance, our infinite beings of light cannot be harmed. They can only grow in the comforting surroundings of the great and eternal love that never leaves, lessens, or places conditions upon us. Let the storm rail on as we watch its cloud formations swirl and feel its thundering presence, patiently waiting for it to pass like all the others that came before..

    Like Mary Oliver, I want to honor the smiles, the kind gestures, the sweet surprises, the expressions of nature outside my window. I want to equally honor the catastrophes, the grief-stricken tears, and the everyday struggles in our lives—whether that is the loss of a loved one or a broken refrigerator.

    It has taken me a while to get there, but I now know there is beauty in the latter too. By remaining attentive to what is happening right in front of me, without needing to change it, I open myself up to a peace that is timeless and enduring.

    The year 2021 presented me with the most difficult experiences of my life to date. Personal injury, family hospitalizations, the loss of grandparents, crippling stress, and unimaginable anxiety filled most days of the calendar.In the final weeks of that year, I lost my mother-in-law to COVID, and the very next day I was scheduled to appear at my sibling’s court sentencing.

    Nearly two and a half years later, I only need to exercise some mental time travel to recall the still vivid scenes from that brief period—the toughest part of an already difficult year—and the corresponding emotions that came from this double whammy heartbreak.

    An anguished cry, muffled under someone’s fist. The cold and blinding snow squalls that froze my feet and stiffened my body in place; finding myself somehow unable to turn around and return inside to wade in further waves of grief. Anger being expressed as misplaced love with nowhere to go. The chains and handcuffs clinking with each step taken in the courtroom. The wad of tissues, wet and crumpled, in my free hand.

    And this. A long overdue embrace between estranged brothers. The offering of one’s home as a place of respite after burial. The gesture of love that presented itself in homemade casseroles and desserts. The joining of warm hands on a cold courtroom bench. The final look at my brother through the window of the courtroom door, our eyes meeting one another. The beautiful and bittersweet reminder that my love for both of them was greater than I’d ever imagined.

    The beauty of the world, as Mary Oliver describes it, includes everything. There are no exceptions or exclusions. When we remain aware, we are witnessing life as it unfolds and changes from one heartbreaking moment to the next jubilant occasion.

    It all belongs. And, though it may seem counterintuitive, it all needs to be celebrated. This is life, and we can experience joy and divine love in each moment of attention. Though some moments may appear too difficult to bear, we must always remember that beneath each tragedy is an inner spaciousness that gently carries the weight of it all.

    I don’t want to miss a thing. The beauty or the heartbreak—both of which make me feel alive and actively participating in life’s unfolding. For that reason, I’m striving to be awake for as much of it as I can.

  • 3 Simple Words to Help You Feel Present, Grounded, and Nourished

    3 Simple Words to Help You Feel Present, Grounded, and Nourished

    “The little things? They’re not little.” ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

    Remember Halloween, 2018? No? We wouldn’t, either, except that it happens to be the day our mindfulness journey—and our lives—changed forever.

    First, some background. We (Deborah and Willow) met when our boys played on the same fifth-grade soccer team. We connected quickly through our shared love of books, writing, dogs, hiking, and strong coffee.

    Something else we had in common: We were both failed meditators. To be honest, we were a bit embarrassed that we couldn’t make a mindfulness practice stick.

    Thank Goodness We WEREN’T Paying Attention 

    Now, back to the story. In 2018, October 31st landed on a Wednesday (an important detail, as you’ll soon discover). That morning, we drove to San Francisco to see a new exhibit at an art gallery.

    Parking spot secured, coffee in hand, we were first in line as we waited for the museum doors to open.

    We waited. And waited. And then it dawned on us.

    Was the museum closed on Wednesdays? Yep.

    Had we paid attention to the schedule beforehand? Nope.

    As usual, we’d been too distracted and busy—and now our plans were ruined.

    Before heading home, we decided to walk around and explore downtown San Francisco. As we set off, we decided to try an experiment: We would slow down and tune in to, well, anything and everything.

    We’d notice what was happening around us. We’d notice what was happening inside us. And we’d notice what happened when we intentionally paid attention.

    Oh, the things we noticed! Little pink flowers poking out through a crack in the sidewalk. A tiny dog in a pale blue sequined jacket. A sweet older couple holding hands as they shuffled across the street together, which instantly warmed our hearts.

    Two hours later, we realized that intentional noticing was making us feel present and grounded. Nourished and aware. We were totally engaged with our lives—and we loved it.

    A Three-Word Invitation to Slow Down and Be Present

    We decided—on the spot—to each start a daily journal based on the prompt “Today I noticed.” We’d write a sentence and draw something (anything!) about an observation. Nothing would be too small or mundane to be worth noticing.

    A few weeks later, we shared what we’d been recording. As we paged through our journals, we found ourselves saying things like, “I noticed that!” and “I feel the same way!” As we laughed and talked, we realized how much of everyday life we’d been missing out on because we were too distracted to notice.

    Here are just a few precious moments we might have missed if it wasn’t for our “Today I Noticed” mindfulness practice:

    Today I noticed that just two stalks of freesias make the whole room smell divine.

    Today I noticed how easy it is to practice “lovingkindness” on my dog.

    Today I noticed how happy it makes me to hear my husband unloading the dishes.  

    Today I noticed I love coffee so much that I imagine my second cup while still drinking my first cup.

    Our day-to-day lives were becoming richer and brighter simply because we were paying more attention.

    2000+ Days of Mindfulness—and Still Counting 

    Now, five-and-a-half years later, we’re still observing, writing, and drawing about some of the funny, surprising, sweet, and ordinary moments that we all see but rarely take the time to notice. This daily practice leaves us feeling tuned in, present, and connected—just like any other mindfulness practice.

    Unlike meditation, for us, this approach to mindfulness has stuck. Noticing and recording has become a way of life—and we don’t plan on ever stopping.

    Here are five reasons why we’re convinced that “Today I noticed” is the secret to lasting mindfulness.

    1. It’s 100% natural.

    We’re all noticing things, all the time. The key is noticing yourself noticing. Paying attention doesn’t require a meditation pillow, a yoga mat, or a mantra. It just takes a simple prompt—”Today I noticed”—to shift your mindset.

    2. It makes us feel present.

    As Jon Kabat-Zinn so wisely stated in the quote above, the little moments aren’t little because they’re what make up our lives. When we move too fast or feel too overwhelmed to notice them, we miss out on an essential part of daily life. Intentional noticing is a way to instantly feel grounded in the here and now.

    3. It sparks gratitude.

    When we slow down and pay attention, even for an instant, we stop taking things for granted. Today I Noticed reminds us how easy it is to find things to appreciate if we just slow down and look for them.

    4. It boosts compassion.

    As we discovered during our very first session of showing each other our observations, the little moments are evidence of our shared humanity. Whether we’re seeing a new bud blossom into a beautiful flower, hearing a beloved dog snoring, or appreciating a smile from a stranger, such “ordinary” experiences feel downright extraordinary when we realize they’re part of a bigger collective experience.

    5. It’s a creative outlet.

    If you’d like to have a creative practice but can’t find the time, “Today I Noticed” mindfulness is for you. You can spend as much or as little time as you’d like writing and drawing about an observation. This bite-sized break is an easy way to tap into a delicious right-brain experience and feel both completely focused and completely relaxed. And wonderfully creative!

    Here are some tips and ideas to keep in mind.

    6 Tips to Start a Noticing Practice Today 

    1. Start paying attention to little things—thoughts, feelings, observations—as you go through your day. Nothing is too “small” to notice and appreciate.

    2. On a piece of paper, starting with the words “Today I noticed,” write about your observation with a sentence or two.

    3. Create a sketch or some kind of visual to accompany or illustrate what you wrote. Remember, everyone is an artist in their own unique way.

    4. Find a buddy to share your observations with. Start a “Today I Noticed” club and host monthly sharing sessions. Or hold a weekly noticing session with your team at work.

    5. Instead of asking your kids, “How was school today?” (“BORING.”), ask them what they’ve noticed. It’s a guaranteed conversation starter!

    6. As you notice more and more things (and you will, we promise), keep track of your observations in your phone or a notebook. Then, when you’re ready for a creative break, you can dive right in and start writing and drawing.

    Go Forth and Notice!

    Have we convinced you to try noticing your way to mindfulness? We hope so!

    When you simply let three words, “Today I noticed,” inspire you to pay attention to the little things that usually slip away unnoticed, you feel present, grounded, and nourished. Small things become more interesting and memorable when we simply take the time to notice them.

    We’ll end with what may be the most powerful discovery of all: The more you notice, the more you notice. And that, friends, is where the real mindfulness magic happens.

  • 5 Simple Ways to Make JOY Your Job This Year

    5 Simple Ways to Make JOY Your Job This Year

    “Don’t wait for joy to find you, because you might end up waiting forever.” ~Unknown

    Eight years ago, my husband and I made a pact to make joy our job.

    We were in the middle of chasing little kids and careers, had a whole lot of stress (on the edge of burnout), and realized that something needed to change.

    The idea started small, with the premise that if we waited for joy to find us, we might wait forever. We figured that life was going to require us to do something different to see a different result. It took us a bit of time to experiment with what brought us joy and what didn’t (because it had been years since we prioritized joy at all), but the juice was worth the squeeze!

    There were some small but key things that helped us shift toward a more joyful life, and I’d like to share them with you now in hopes that you can make this your year of JOY!

    Here they are.

    1. Give yourself permission.

    As a good midwestern gal, I have always had the belief that if I work harder, faster, and stronger than others, I will see success. I’m here to tell you that’s true! However, while working toward specific goals (promotions, planning a wedding, buying a house, you insert the thing), joy can fall to the bottom of the heap.

    I get it. I always thought that I needed to be one step ahead before I gave myself freedom for fun, but that’s the wrong mindset to take on because life’s a moving target. You will never reach the finish line because life happens in the living of it (cliché but true).

    Give yourself permission to prioritize joy! Maybe it’s a date night or an hour to yourself, but whatever it is, you should give yourself permission to enJOY. A burnt-out version of you is no good to anyone else.

    2. Make a joy ideas list.

    Have you ever planned a night out and looked at your spouse or friend and said, “What are you in the mood for?” Their response: “I don’t care. What are you in the mood for?” Sometimes it takes just as long to decide what to do for fun as actually going out and doing it.

    For this reason, we started with a whiteboard in our bedroom (doesn’t everyone have a whiteboard hung up in their bedroom?), and jotted down things we used to do, things we wanted to do, and things we heard others talking about. It took us a few days to get a good joy ideas list going, but little by little we had inspiration for date night and beyond.

    Our thought was, with a whiteboard at the ready, we could dream up joyful ideas before we fell asleep and add more right after waking up, when our brains were rested and fresh. It worked!

    Some of our ideas included:

    • Go back to the restaurant we got engaged at.
    • Carve out a date night for yummy food.
    • Join a volleyball league to stay active.
    • Play “college”—eat the foods, do the activities, and go to the places we used to visit in college.

    Start making a list and checking off your joy items. You’ll be surprised how completing one joy item will spur more ideas and more joy. Here are some ideas to consider:

    • Be a tourist in your town. If you have a free afternoon, go out and do the things your town is known for! Try all the “bests”—ice cream, coffee, park, scenic views, you name it.
    • Create joy during meals. Spice up your meals with different types of cuisine and different meal locations (picnic in the living room). Also, a fun or fancy glass can bring joy to any table.
    • If you are short on time, exchange some screen time for a bit of joy and be sure to involve the kids! A few of the things we love to do are go on walks, play games, go on scavenger hunts, and play flashlight hide-and-seek.

    3. Carve out time on your calendar.

    This sounds easy, but it’s where people fall off the joy wagon.

    We’re going to Mexico in February! That’s what I often hear when I ask about joy. People give me the itineraries for their upcoming vacations (never mind that they might be six months away).

    If I asked you, “Where can you add joy tomorrow?” would you be able to do it? Or would you say something like, “After my next project at work, I’ll have more joy.” Or “Once my kids sleep through the night, I can have more joy.” Or “I don’t have time for joy tomorrow, I have too much going on.”

    Our minds are programmed to solve, achieve, and contribute, and that is a great thing…most of the time.

    Make sure you put the joy ideas and activities on the calendar—even if it’s just “take a walk” or “read a book.” Or at least save a block of time specifically for joy. Otherwise, time will slip by, and you will not have anything to show for it.

    4. Pick a theme.

    Sometimes it can be hard to think of something that is new and exciting yet takes little brain space and energy to put into action. My advice is to pick a theme. We have themed meals, parties, weeks of celebration in our house—you name it, we can theme it!

    We once celebrated a travel birthday for our friend’s daughter who took her first plane flight. We blew out candles on a cupcake to celebrate. We’ve had pretend holidays, tailgates for random sporting events, craft days, and even themed parties with friends.

    A theme is an easy way to give purpose to an afternoon, an event, or a week. If you are struggling to think of a theme, the internet has some great ideas.

    5. Invite other people to join.

    Our original joy list moved from bulleted ideas to a joy calendar, and the rest is history! We now create a monthly joy calendar, and our kids contribute ideas. One night a month my husband and I sit back and look at the calendar, almost like consultants to our own lives, and decide if we have enough joy. If we don’t think we have enough joy planned, we add some.

    It was a few months after we started to make joy our job when we started sharing the joy with friends and family. They started attending parties and joy activities, and I would get text messages saying, “Started our own joy calendar today! Thanks again.”

    Making joy your job will change your life! There will never be a perfect day or a perfect reason for more joy. Today is that day! Just start with permission, make a list, and go!

    Be sure to reach out when you create joy. I’d love to celebrate with you!

    Bonus tip:

    Joy is messy. Just do some small experiments. You will plan joy and it may not turn out the way you thought (kids will act out, sporting events may be cancelled, themes may turn out to be a bust), but be sure to keep going! Some of our funniest joy moments have come from our experiments (think failed cooking experiments and funny date night memories).

    Joy is your job!

  • Stay in the Moment

    Stay in the Moment

  • How to Tend to the Garden Within and Help Create a More Peaceful World

    How to Tend to the Garden Within and Help Create a More Peaceful World

    “Until we transform ourselves, we are like mobs of angry people screaming for peace. In order to move the world, we must be able to stand still in it.” ~Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche

    It only happens about every ten years or so. The primal scream. It gets unleashed when things feel like too much.

    But it happened recently, to the dismay of my husband who was enjoying a rare moment of quiet in the house. I had just dropped our son off to basketball practice. The soup I’d picked up for dinner spilled in the car, and the lid to the boiling emotional pot that I had been diligently managing for months burst off.

    It had been a hell of a semester with unrelenting stress from a job that required more than I was willing to give. I exploded from the strain of responding lovingly to the confusion of a moody teenager managing peer pressures and media overload. And from the pain of caring deeply for our hurting, warring, grieving, angry, divisive, stubborn world.

    The impotence I felt was crushing. The complicated layers wound me into knots. Until I came undone.

    I sat for a while with the echoes of the scream in my ears, relieved to finally acknowledge that not all was well. And in the days to follow, as I meditated and re-centered and cared myself back into balance, I recognized that not all was lost either.

    My mindfulness practice has held me steady over the years, allowing me regular contact with my heart. I have learned to look inward, getting to know the pain, the uncertainty, the non-answers. I have become comfortable with letting the breath unknot the blockages of unprocessed emotions.

    I never know when they will break free or come out sideways. But as I have returned to the breath an infinite number of times, I have learned to trust that I can let whatever needs to arise speak.

    Sometimes it’s sadness. Sometimes it’s hopefulness. But other times, I have to let despair and grief step into the light.

    They say that what we resist persists. Our emotions have wisdom. Denying them now feels unkind.

    I’ve noticed over time that even while the pain inside can be confusing and disorienting, something continues to grow stronger, steadier within me. Something grows lighter. If I let it.

    I don’t limit my practice to one thing. Mindfulness meditation is my root teacher, my guide in this inward journey. But these times call for reinforcements, spirit allies, friends, prayers, and kindness.

    I lean on the wisdom of shamans, mystics, and sages who instruct us to dream the world into being. I know well that the power of our minds can both create the world we want to live in and destroy it. I recently added courageous dreaming to my list of reinforcements.

    The implications for my choices are not small as I watch my son navigate the shaky world he lives in. Checking the news. Asking hard questions.

    I tell him with confidence that there is beauty and good and joy. Even on dark days. In our world. And I believe that deeply because I see it. In my heart and in the heart of so many others. The ones who have learned how to sit still in the midst of it all.

    I navigate these times by tending to my inner garden. I know that when I nurture my inner world, I can be of wiser service to the world around me. I try to model this to my son who is too much in the throes of growing up to understand much of this directly, but I trust that the seeds are being planted.

    I am dreaming the world into being in my small but mighty sphere of influence. And I am accompanied by countless others—friends, teachers, fellow wisdom seekers—who are similarly invested in caring for the garden within so that they can be the caregivers, healers, and magic makers that our world needs. This, I believe, is the way of change.

    The pathway is simple but not easy. Mindfulness takes diligence and practice. But it can be the foundation for the steadiness, calm, and compassion required of us in these times.

    This is how we can get started.

    Develop a foundation for steadiness.

    To begin, allocate ten minutes a day where you won’t be interrupted. Start with an awareness of breath practice. Sit comfortably and notice the in and out breath without trying to make anything happen.

    When your mind wanders (which it will) bring it back to the breath, again and again. Be gentle with yourself and don’t expect radical change. Stick with the practice, gradually lengthening the time that you sit to develop concentration, trust, and stability.

    Strengthen your heart connection.

    Building on your awareness of breath practice, you can place your attention on your heart space. Breathe in and out of your heart noticing what arises when you pay attention. Is there aching, longing, tension, or joy?

    You may put your hand on your heart as you listen, staying open without judging. Whatever you notice, consider sending kindness to your heart. Continue breathing through your heart space, thanking your heart for protecting you and supporting you.

    Get curious about your emotions.

    It feels counterintuitive to lean into what makes us uncomfortable. Yet leaning into our emotions can be our gateway to freedom. This practice is called tending and befriending.

    Sitting quietly in meditation, you can notice what arises with kind curiosity. The emotion might arise from within the body; the belly, chest, and heart are the most common places where emotions are felt. Or you might just sense something in the background—anxiety, fear, anticipation.

    Give the emotion a neutral name, see if you can let it expand or contract as it needs to, and send it loving-kindness. We don’t need to sit long with the emotion. Just long enough to get to know it, open up space for it, and send it compassion.

    Instill gratitude.  

    My son noticed a butterfly the other day. We were taking a walk and he just stopped in his tracks. He wanted to capture its beauty in a picture.

    We talked about the transformation that butterflies go through in their lifetimes, and it reminded me of the profound and often overlooked beauty of nature. When we pay attention, these simple moments can be intensely healing. The more we touch into gratitude, the more we find ease.

    Gratitude is an antidote to anxiety, worry, and negativity. We can formally instill gratitude by committing to a daily practice of remembering or writing down three good things from the day. Then we soak those things into our body, savoring them, and holding them with loving intention.

    Envision the world you want to live in. 

    When we are deliberate about connecting with our breath, body, emotions, and heart, and receiving gratitude, we can more easily sense being part of a loving, compassionate world. We don’t only envision this world, but we live out all that we hope it entails. As Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh said: “If we want peace, we have to be peace. Peace is a practice and not a hope.”

    We are at an inflection point in our world. A time of great change. We can decide first how we want to be. The rest will follow.

    May you practice with an open mind, heart, and spirit.

  • How to Process Intense Feelings with Mindfulness: 4 Powerful Steps

    How to Process Intense Feelings with Mindfulness: 4 Powerful Steps

    “Feelings come and go, like clouds in the sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    In today’s fast-paced world, it’s easy to find ourselves caught in a whirlwind of intense emotions.

    Whether it’s the stress of looming deadlines, the anxiety of an uncertain future, or the frustration of unexpected setbacks, intense feelings often hijack our mental well-being, leaving us feeling drained and powerless in their wake.

    In such moments, our instinctual response is often to either suppress these emotions or allow them to dictate our actions, leading to a cycle of reactivity and emotional turbulence.

    Growing up, I learned to fear emotions. In my tumultuous home, it often felt like there was no room for feelings—they were either ignored, mocked, or punished. I adapted by suppressing my emotions and disconnecting from my heart.

    I became a quiet, shy, and sensitive child who didn’t make waves, the proverbial good girl, always pleasing and performing, never complaining, saying no, or acting out. Disconnected from myself, I had trouble connecting with others.

    I began disappearing into my own world. Convinced there was something wrong with me, I lived in a perpetual state of internal angst and shame, wanting and fearing connection all at once. For years I was plagued with codependency, negativity, c-PTSD symptoms, one-sided relationships, anxiety, and anger buried so deep I didn’t even see it. I lived on autopilot—successful by external standards but internally in emotional turmoil.

    It was only after becoming a parent that all that I buried within began to surface, catching me off guard. Parenting, more challenging than I ever anticipated, forced me to confront the pain, trauma, and difficult truths that I had been repressing all my life. I began to unravel.

    When we live on autopilot, we become slaves to our reactions, blindly following the same patterns of behavior without pausing to consider their consequences. I know I was—feeling lost in a whirlwind of suppressed emotions and disconnected from my true self.

    But amidst the chaos of my internal turmoil, I discovered a transformative path forward: mindfulness. This ancient practice became my beacon of clarity in the midst of emotional storms, inviting me to step off the treadmill of reactivity and into the present moment.

    By embracing mindfulness, I learned to approach my intense emotions with curiosity and compassion, gradually unraveling the layers of pain and trauma buried deep within. In the process, I unearthed a reservoir of resilience, wisdom, and love buried deep within me.

    How to Process Intense Feelings with Mindfulness

    Emotions are an integral part of the human experience, and they often manifest as sensations in our bodies. They arise in response to challenging situations or perceived threats, and our immediate response is often automatic and primal. However, by fostering greater self-awareness and empathy toward our own emotional experiences, we can begin to navigate the landscape of intense feelings with greater clarity and resilience.

    Step 1: Name It in the body.

    Think about a recent situation that stirred up strong emotions within you. It could be a disagreement with a loved one, a work-related challenge, or even a personal setback. Pause and ask yourself: What did you feel in your body during that moment? Did your chest tighten, your heart race, or your eyes well up?

    When my kids were younger, I was plagued by anxiety. Between a lack of sleep, having to be “on” 24/7 as a parent, the stress of trying to make a living, and feeling all alone (we moved across the country), I was constantly on edge. And so, I would react to small things with big emotions. It always started with my body tensing up and my heart suddenly racing while thoughts like, “I can’t handle this!” ran through my head.

    Emotions first show up as sensations in the body. We have no control over these natural responses—they’re programmed into our DNA. The good news is that these bodily sensations are like emotional signposts. If we pay attention, we can recognize what they are trying to tell us. And by naming what comes up, we can gain clarity and understand what is unfolding within us. It’s an empowering first step to mindful emotional processing.

    Step 2: Breathe into it.

    Mindfulness teaches us to pay attention. It allows us to recognize what is happening in our body, with compassion and without judgment. That awareness is power—the power to respond from our authentic selves instead of reacting from our habitual selves.

    Think back to a time when you had a heated argument with a loved one. Your immediate reaction was likely intense, with emotions running high. But what if, in that moment, you had taken a deep breath and allowed yourself to pause?

    When we are triggered, the primal part of our brain gets activated first, well before our intellectual brain gets the signal. The amygdala (our reptilian brain) controls our automatic reactions, which depend on our upbringing, defenses, and coping mechanisms we developed over the years. Taking a few deep breaths allows us to halt this reaction just long enough for our pre-frontal cortex and intellect to kick in.

    Over time, this simple act of focusing on breathing while being flooded with waves of intense emotions helped me stay calm in stressful situations and tampered down my reactions. It was often just enough for me to regain perspective and respond as an adult, not an overwhelmed child still trying to be seen or heard. Now if I feel triggered or ungrounded, I remember to stay focused on the breath. It always carries me to the other side.

    Step 3: Remember that emotions are energy in motion.

    Emotions are energy, and they’re always in motion. We get stuck on feelings because we disconnect from them, repress them, and pretend they’re not there. Or we hold onto them. We let them fester. They don’t get processed and then released, so we can’t move on.

    Working through emotions starts with simply allowing them to be. We’re no longer fighting them, getting stuck on them, or running from what comes up. Instead, we let the feelings come and go, without attaching a story. It’s good to practice this when you’re calm, so that you know what to do in the heat of the moment.

    Learn to just notice and allow what happens to you internally. As you observe the sensations in your body and feel what comes up, bring a sense of compassion for yourself, especially if intense feelings show up. This is difficult work, so take baby steps and make sure you take care of yourself daily—body and mind.

    Mindfulness teaches us to accept all emotions and increases our window of tolerance to stressors. We get more resilient and authentic. We begin to listen to our feelings with openness, non-judgment, and compassion—and that’s transformative.

    Feelings are messengers. They inform us about what we value and what we don’t want. For me, the anxiety was screaming at me to start taking care of myself. I was neck-deep in raising children and working and running a house, and I neglected to show up for myself. The truth is, I was deeply unhappy, and once I accepted that, I was able to draw some boundaries and change what wasn’t working.

    Think of the last time you experienced disappointment or frustration. Instead of pushing these feelings away, allow your emotions to just be there without judgment. Focus on your body. Where is that feeling located? What does it look like? What does it need from you? Whatever comes up, give it attention.

    As you observe these sensations, you can journal about them, or take them for a walk. Maybe your body needs to shake it off or dance it out. Do whatever feels right to move that energy through and out of your body. By engaging with your emotions, you enable them to flow through you, rather than stagnate and fester.

    Step 4: Respond from your wise self.

    Awareness is half of the equation; the other half is action—and how you respond depends on your state of mind. With mindfulness, you don’t get swept up in the turmoil of emotional reactions; you’re no longer allowing autopilot to take you for a spin. Instead, you notice, breathe through what is, and tap into a higher perspective. And then you choose your response based on what makes sense for you.

    Ask yourself, “What’s the best way to handle this situation?” Do you need to take action, advocate for yourself, set a boundary, reach out for support, step back and regroup, or take care of yourself to restore and rebalance your energy?

    For me, overcoming anxiety was a journey of learning to recognize when anxiety arose, to breathe through the discomfort with compassion, and to choose a response that aligned with my values and well-being.

    Whether it was removing myself from triggering spaces and situations, taking more time for myself, seeking support, or letting go of perfection, I started prioritizing my health and well-being. It wasn’t always easy, and I had to let some things go, but slowly I shifted toward inner peace and authenticity.

    I also learned to not take things personally, recognizing that everyone experiences challenging emotions and that responding gracefully is a sign of strength.

    —

    If emotional regulation was not modeled for you growing up, it can feel like navigating through a minefield. For years, I struggled with understanding and managing my feelings, which, in turn, impacted my relationships, my well-being, and my overall happiness.

    With mindfulness and consistent practice, however, I was able to break free from old patterns, heal from past wounds, and cultivate emotional resilience and well-being. Intense emotions started to lose their grip on me, and I became more peaceful and less reactive. I discovered the grace of self-compassion and learned to ride the waves of big feelings, knowing that they would eventually subside.

    Emotions are an intricate part of our lives, and using mindfulness can help us navigate them more effectively. We don’t have to fear them. It’s possible to regulate our emotions and cultivate a more mindful and graceful approach to life’s challenges.

    By actively engaging with our emotions, rather than reacting on instinct, we can unlock a newfound sense of control and wisdom, creating a more harmonious relationship with our emotions and the world around us.