Tiny Buddha

Tag: Mindfulness

  • How I Stopped Worrying About Running Out of Time to Achieve My Goals

    How I Stopped Worrying About Running Out of Time to Achieve My Goals

    “The only thing that is ultimately real about your journey is the step that you are taking at this moment. That’s all there ever is.” ~Alan Watts

    One thing that is promised to each one of us in life is death. No one will avoid dying or feeling the pain of losing others. From a young age I remember being aware of this fact, and it scared me.

    As I got older, I began to feel a sense of pressure that I was running out of time and loss was imminent. The thought of losing my loved ones and the uncertainty of what may happen worried me. I wanted to avoid the feelings of loss and limitation, so I unconsciously began to move faster.

    There was a deep fear that if things didn’t happen fast, they would not happen at all and that I wouldn’t have enough time.

    Faster became better, and I started the hamster race of working hard to achieve my dreams. Whether that was finishing school, starting a career, being in a healthy relationship, starting a family, being fit… even my spiritual journey became a race to happiness that only existed in the future!

    I realized later in life that this mindset was born out of fear—the fear of loss, the fear of the unknown—and protection from these fears was a quick accomplishment. It created an immense amount of stress and suffering because all goals and dreams take time to build.

    I believed sooner was better, and if it wasn’t fast then it wasn’t happening at all. I began to find reasons for why it wasn’t happening—that I was not good enough, life was unfair and hard, and it was not possible for me. Each time I repeated these limiting beliefs, I took one step away from my dreams and developed more anxiety.

    This led to a cycle of starting, quitting, and then searching for something different. I would garner the courage to start something new only to fall flat on my face when it didn’t happen. The cycle of shame would repeat, impacting my mental health and my ability to move forward.

    I wanted to see proof that I was achieving my goals and searched for tangible evidence to feel good while simultaneously ignoring all the wonderful things that were right before my eyes. Like living near the ocean, spending time with my loved ones, talking walks along the coast, having meaningful conversations with friends, and enjoying moments of quiet with my favorite cup of coffee. These mean so much to me now.

    I wanted the degree, the paycheck, the happy photo of me surrounded by friends, rather than the silence of uncertainty and the impatience I felt in the present. My fear of time took away the only real time that existed, the now.

    When I slowed down and paused, I realized that I had experienced so much growth and expansion in all the years I’d thought I was wasting time. Every roadblock had challenged me to change. In fact, my anxiety, fear, and disappointment around my slow progress led me inward to heal my relationship with time.

    Though many of my dreams did come true, I was only able to recognize them when I slowed down and let go of the “when.”

    I was able to achieve this by practicing meditation, breathwork, and awareness. With time and consistency, the present moment became filled with color, and its beauty swept me away from the ticking time bomb of the future. I began to enjoy each step of my journey, whether it was the beginning or end.

    With the gift of hindsight, I can see that it is not about the “when” but about the “what.” What I’m doing right now in the present. The number of negative and limiting beliefs I placed upon myself and the shame I felt were due to an emphasis on always “thinking forward,” and a lack of being with myself in the present.

    The truth is when we let go of our misconceptions of time and follow our dreams patiently, we see that time is not against us; the process is a necessary part of our journey.

    The time it takes to reach our goals is not empty; it is filled with learning and unlearning so that we find ourselves. In the end it is not the achievement that leads to freedom, but the wisdom that comes from living life.

    If we make the present moment our friend rather than our foe, we can experience and appreciate our present journey rather than focusing on our arrival.

  • 7 False Beliefs That Will Keep You Trapped in Your Head Forever

    7 False Beliefs That Will Keep You Trapped in Your Head Forever

    “There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them.” ~Anthony de Mello

    When people come to me suffering from anxiety, fear, anger, self-judgment etc., there are five things they invariably believe to be true.

    Let’s take anxiety as an example. Most (if not all) people with anxiety believe that:

    1. It’s bad or wrong to feel anxious.
    2. It shouldn’t be there.
    3. There’s something wrong with me (for being anxious).
    4. My mind should be peaceful.
    5. I can’t experience peace until my anxiety is gone.

    Pretty much everyone nods in agreement as I take them through this list.

    Few people, if any, would question the truth of these statements.

    They are, as the spiritual teacher Anthony de Mello says:

    “Beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them.”

    And I’d say that these beliefs alone produce 98% (if not more) of the unnecessary suffering that most people experience.

    Maybe you’ve heard the expression “pain is inevitable, suffering is a choice”?

    Experiencing anxiety is unpleasant. There’s no denying it’s a painful experience.

    But it’s our beliefs and mental commentary about anxiety that cause most of the suffering.

    “Anxiety is awful. I hate it. I can’t go on like this. What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I’m so screwed up. I’ll never be happy again.”

    The mind’s commentary about the anxiety adds fuel to the fire and turns a painful experience into full-blown suffering.

    Lasting peace can never be found on the level of thinking. The mind is restless by nature. It’s not wrong. It’s simply how the mind is.

    To end suffering, we need to change the way we relate to the mind.

    And to do this, we need to see through the false beliefs that hold us captive.

    As long as you believe that certain thoughts are bad or wrong, that they shouldn’t be there, and that there’s something wrong with you for having them, you will continue to suffer… not so much from the thoughts themselves but because of your beliefs about them.

    The solution is so simple that most people overlook it completely.

    Getting to Know the Mind Better

    There’s a quote from Abraham Lincoln I like to use:

     “I don’t like that man. I must get to know him better.”

    Exactly the same logic applies to your anxiety, depression, fear, or critical inner voice.

    If you don’t like your anxious thoughts, resisting them won’t help.

    The answer is to get to know them better.

    The Two Approaches to Becoming Free of the Mind

    There are two approaches we can take to find more inner peace.

    The first is to try to fix or change our thoughts through “working on ourselves.”

    I tried this approach for years and discovered that change comes painfully slowly… if at all.

    After years of effort, I had very little to show for it.

    Then I had a breakthrough.

    On a six-month meditation retreat, I stumbled upon a completely different approach to dealing with the mind—a way that was much easier, much more effective, and far quicker, immediate in fact.

    Through getting to know my thoughts (and feelings and emotions) better, I came to a completely different understanding about myself, my mind… and the path to peace.

    I saw that:

    It’s not your thoughts, feelings, or emotions that cause you to suffer. Suffering is self-created through the way you relate to them.

    See through the false beliefs that hold you captive, and your troublesome thoughts will no longer have the same power to affect your peace.

    Since then, I’ve outlined 7 false beliefs that keep most people trapped in their heads for life.

    The 7 False Beliefs That Will Keep You Trapped in Your Head Forever

    “Demand is born out of duality: ‘I am unhappy and I must be happy.’ In the very demand that I must be happy is unhappiness.”  ~Jiddu Krishnamurti

    The beautiful thing about beliefs is that the moment you see through them, they lose their grip on you. You become liberated in the seeing alone. It requires no time.

    False Belief #1: The mind should be quiet and peaceful; otherwise, there’s something wrong.

    I love the following quote from the Indian spiritual teacher Nisargadatta:

    “There is no such thing as peace of mind. Mind means disturbance; restlessness itself is mind.”

    Restlessness is the nature of the mind. Expecting it to be quiet and peaceful is like expecting water to be dry or expecting the grass to be pink.

    It’s not the restless nature of the mind that disturbs your peace. It’s the belief that there’s something wrong and that it should be different.

    You don’t suffer because the mind is restless. You suffer because you believe it shouldn’t be.

    Expect the mind to be messed up, crazy, confused, and anxious. Don’t be surprised. There’s nothing ‘wrong.’ It’s called being human.

    False Belief #2: Suffering is caused by negative thoughts, feelings, and emotions.

    What if it were possible to feel down, sad, concerned, anxious even—and to remain perfectly at peace throughout?

    Negative thoughts, feelings, and emotions, although unpleasant, are not the primary cause of suffering. We suffer because we reject them, think there’s something wrong, and believe they shouldn’t be there.

    If you don’t mind feeling sad, don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, and don’t think the feeling needs to go for you to be okay, you can be sad and peaceful at the same time.

    Most people confuse peace with feeling good. It’s not the same.

    Our thoughts and emotions are like clouds passing across the sky. It’s inevitable that there will be dark ones as well as light ones.

    The key to ongoing peace is to embrace them all. Even if they don’t feel good.

    And anyway, what makes a thought negative? Another thought that says so.

    False Belief #3: It’s bad/wrong to be anxious, down, and depressed, or feel unworthy.

    This belief definitely falls under the category of “beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that nobody thinks to question them.”

    Most of us enjoy warm sunny days more than dark cloudy ones.

    But it doesn’t make cloudy days bad or wrong—less pleasant perhaps, but not wrong.

    In the same way, the challenging thoughts and emotions that cloud our inner sky are not inherently good or bad, right or wrong. Like the weather, they are neutral events—part of the human condition.

    The real problem (or only problem, in fact) is the notion that unpleasant = wrong.

    And this belief, in turn, triggers the mental commentary: “It shouldn’t be there, there’s something wrong with me that needs fixing, I’m unacceptable as I am, I can’t be happy until it’s gone,” etc.—in other words, suffering.

    False Belief #4: I can’t experience peace until this/that pattern is resolved.

    I talk to many people who have been waiting for twenty years for their anxiety to be healed so they can start living again.

    And I’ve seen lifelong anxiety sufferers experience deep peace within a minute or two through seeing through certain beliefs.

    I call it the path of understanding, as opposed to the path of self-improvement.

    Peace is your nature. And it’s ever-present, no matter what is going on in the mind.

    People wait, often for years, for the dark clouds of anxiety, sadness, or self-doubt to move on, before they can get back to living life to the full.

    There’s a powerful meditation called the “Noticing Exercise” that I like to share with people who believe they can’t experience peace just as they are.

    Without going into too much detail here, I ask people to bring a difficulty to mind, and then, through directing their attention to what’s happening right here, right now, I guide them to become fully present in the moment.

    When I ask them afterwards how their experience was, they usually use words like “peaceful,” “still,” or “expansive.”

    And when I then ask what happened to their difficulty during the exercise, people invariably say, “Oh, I totally forgot about it.” More evidence that you don’t have to wait for your issues to be healed before you can live fully.

    Peace is available right here, right now—no matter what is going on in your mind or in your life.

    False Belief #5: Engaging with the mind is mandatory.

    If you had told me years ago, when I was a chronic overthinker struggling to find any peace at all, that engaging with the mind is not mandatory, I would have said you were nuts.

    When thinking is unconscious and running on autopilot, as is the case with most people, it feels like it’s something that’s happening to you—as if you are an innocent victim being bombarded by an unrelenting torrent of thoughts, and that you have no choice but to listen.

    You’re not so much thinking as being thunk!

    But here’s the truth. You are the one in charge, and the mind only has as much power as you give it. It may not seem this way, but it’s true.

    As we saw previously in the “Noticing Exercise,” you are free to withdraw your attention from the mind in any moment. Thinking is a choice. It’s not mandatory.

    Mooji, a teacher I like a lot, says that we suffer because we are open for business. If you choose to close up shop, the mind becomes powerless to affect your peace.

    When you learn to step back and watch the mind objectively, you can choose whether to get involved or not. Overthinking is an unconscious habit you can learn to let go of.

    False Belief #6: I’m responsible for the thoughts in my head.

    Try closing your eyes for a moment and, like a cat intently watching a mouse hole, watch to see what your next thought will be.

    You’ll discover that you have no idea what’s going to appear.

    Thoughts are self-arising. You play no part in their appearance.

    Thinking is a different matter.

    For years, I used to judge myself harshly for the thoughts that appeared in my head. I used to think there was something wrong with me for having angry thoughts, jealous thoughts, sad thoughts, etc.

    The mind is a lot like a computer. It spits out thoughts in accordance with your programming—the cultural impressions you picked up as a child and through your unique life experiences.

    Your thoughts are not who you are.

    Which brings us to the final false belief:

    False Belief #7: I am my thoughts.

    For much of my life, I was compulsively preoccupied with the content of my mind. My thoughts were like a tight ski mask glued to my face, and they pretty much filled up my entire inner space.

    Through meditation, I was gradually able to create more and more space between myself and the thoughts and learn to observe them objectively and non-judgmentally—to see the thoughts, not be the thoughts.

    I discovered that there was another dimension of my being that was untouched and unaffected by the passing traffic of thoughts.

    The analogy of the sky and the clouds is often used in meditation practice.

    All types of cloud pass across the sky—dark ones, light ones, big ones, small ones, fast moving clouds, slow moving clouds—but the sky has no preference and always remains the same.

    I discovered that thoughts are not “me” and that, through learning to remain as the witnessing presence, they lost their power to affect my peace.

    When you leave the mind in peace to do its thing, it will leave you in peace to do yours.

    Peace is your nature; not the peace that comes and goes as passing clouds, interspersed with restless thoughts, but the unchanging peace of your true nature.

    You are not your thoughts. And knowing this is real peace.

  • I Worry I’ll Never Change – Here’s Why I Still Accept Myself

    I Worry I’ll Never Change – Here’s Why I Still Accept Myself

    “Our journey is not about changing into the person we want to become. It’s about letting go of all we are not.” ~Nikki van Schyndel, Becoming Wild

    I recently went on personal retreat to once again try to heal my wounds, see my patterns, and find my purpose. I loaded my car with journals from the last two decades and a book of poetry dating back to 1980. I packed my cooler full of nourishing food, but then added a six pack of beer and an expensive bottle of wine—completely unaware that I was about to sabotage my personal growth by continuing to numb my pain.

    I had decided to use my retreat time to review my journal writings, pull out any wisdom I wanted to keep, and release the rest in a burning ceremony. On my first day, I labeled each journal with the year it was written and organized them all chronologically. This task felt arduous yet satisfying when I sat back and looked at the twenty-five volumes all laid out neatly in order.

    I spent the next three days re-reading each and every one. Re-living the emotional angst of problems in this relationship, then the next … and the next. Teasing out the patterns of insecurity, sabotage, and grieving. Re-visiting the same themes and my same desire and commitment, after the ending of each relationship, to be this person who stopped drinking in excess, meditated daily, ate healthy foods, and took good care of her body.

    Over and over, I had glimpses of this centered, calm, wise woman who I’d like to think is the real me. Yet over and over, I’d jumped into another relationship, lost myself, and repeated the pattern. Pages and pages full of the same story, only with different characters and at different times. As I read each journal, I tore out pages to burn, cut out sections to keep, and drank to numb the pain.

    On the fourth day I finished organizing the scraps of paper I wanted to keep and sat back with immense satisfaction. By early afternoon I had my fire going and drank my first beer of the day as I burned … and burned … and burned. Words turning into ashes. I stayed emotionally distant, cut off from my feelings, not making much of a ceremony of it after all.

    Feeling restless, I downed the last of my beer and pulled on my hiking boots. The trail outside my cabin began with a steep decline, winding along the side of the mountain and deep into the woods. As I walked, I kept thinking, “I haven’t changed. I’m still the same. What will it take to change? Why can’t I be that person I say I want to be? My life is one big loop.”

    I thought maybe the answer was that I just needed to be more self-disciplined. However, I immediately noticed the word “discipline” repelled me. If there is one thing I know about myself, I am not one to obey rules or codes of behavior—and I already punish myself enough. So, no, self-discipline wasn’t the answer. It was clear that I had spent a lifetime trying that approach and beating myself up for not succeeding. I kept on walking.

    At some point I questioned if maybe this was what life was really all about: the striving to be someone we are not. By that time, I was walking back uphill and had to stop frequently to catch my breath.

    Standing alone in the woods with my heart beating hard, staring blankly at the trees, I wondered if maybe the answer was just to embrace who I am. It’s pretty clear, after reading over my life for twenty years, I haven’t been able to change.

    My mind continued to whirl: But I’m not able to accept those parts of myself that drink too much or can’t stay focused. I don’t want to be that person who is overweight. I really do want to meditate. I stopped again, looking down the mountainside from which I had come. Apparently embracing myself wasn’t quite the answer either.

    By the time I had returned to my cabin, I no longer wanted to drink. I reflected again on the common thread throughout the years and suddenly saw the essence of myself that is timeless.

    It was there in my poetry from over forty years ago, in the heartbreak when I sabotaged yet another relationship, and in the yearning to be different.

    In a flash of insight, I recognized—contrary to the self-criticism that had been running through my head—the unchanged me was not a bad self. She is someone who wants to do better, who wants to be better, who recognizes the impermanence of time and seeks to grow.

    As I saw her, I knew this was the me I could totally embrace. I briefly thought about starting a new journal with this great insight, then laughed because I knew, if I did, I’d be reading it in twenty years, shaking my head, and saying “nothing has changed.” Then I would beat myself up for not being who I thought I wanted to be, and the cycle would just continue.

    In this recognition, I knew that those parts of me I so strongly criticized weren’t going to go away. And while I couldn’t embrace them, I could accept them with greater compassion and love.

    I saw the truth that even if I don’t meditate daily, exercise, eat healthy all the time, and have a full and balanced life, the part of me that strives to do those things is always there. She was in every page where I said I wanted to make those choices, and she’s been with me all along. She is the one I need to accept and embrace; it’s not who I want to be, it’s who I am.

    The review of my life helped me understand it’s a process. That timeless part of me may come and go, just like I have my moments of awakening to my wisdom and then forgetting it all. Sometimes the me who struggles to make healthy choices is going to hijack my life. I can accept that is a part of being human. It’s not self-discipline I need, it’s self-acceptance of my duality. Both my wise woman and my saboteur.

    I am a wise and powerful woman. I am a kind, sensitive, and caring soul. I love deeply. I care deeply. I feel deeply. I don’t need to escape from who I am; I simply need to remember. Ultimately, what really needs to change is that I need to nurture self-compassion and self-acceptance at the deepest level.

    My last day at the cabin, I awoke to sunshine and blue skies. I felt good and strong. I spent part of the day shopping in the craft stores of the nearby village, and before I knew it, I was halfway to the liquor store. I kept trying to convince myself it was okay, but recognizing I wanted to make a different choice, I managed to turn around before it was too late.

    I chose a waterfall hike and scrambled past the tourists, up to the top of the falls. The rocks were a slippery slope, but the irony of that and the potential of me drinking didn’t quite register until later. When I reached the top, I sat a moment to meditate. As I closed my eyes, I embraced this timeless essence and felt so much peace and gratitude for her presence.

    My inner saboteur tried to take over again when I got back to my car. Sitting in the parking lot, I asked myself, “What do you hope to accomplish by getting a drink?” Then, I laughed at the quick and witty answer, “A hangover.” I drove back to my cabin, made myself a healthy meal, and drank a glass of water.

    I understand now this journey is a day-by-day, moment-by-moment reclaiming of who I am. I also understand the part of me that has been in control when I’ve forgotten my essence isn’t going to disappear overnight.

    However, I no longer fool myself into thinking anything is wrong with me. I recognize and embrace my commitment to growing in wisdom, strength, and joy. And I embrace all of who I am, while having compassion for the parts of me that struggle.

  • A Powerful Practice for Self-Awareness: How to Avoid Doing Things You’ll Regret

    A Powerful Practice for Self-Awareness: How to Avoid Doing Things You’ll Regret

    Self-awareness is arguably the holy grail of inner peace, especially when you’re under pressure. But what is it? How do you achieve it?

    As a teacher of self-awareness, I’ll be the first to admit that it does not always come easy. Given our human instinct to resist whatever challenges us to grow and change, the journey to self-awareness often involves a struggle. I know mine sometimes does.

    To be more self-aware, I’ve had to cultivate a willingness to admit I don’t have it all figured out and that I might not always be right, especially when I feel really strongly that I am. I’ve had to make a point to look at my reality more objectively and admit when the way I’m doing something is just not working for me anymore.

    These admissions never come easily. But I will say that addressing my emotional reactivity has been essential to getting me to a place of greater self-awareness.

    When I was a young mother, I spent years trying to protect my kids from the impact of the dysfunction around them. Outwardly, we looked like the perfect family who had it all. My husband and I were pretty skilled at managing the family’s image, but the real story unfolding inside the four walls of our home was a marriage buckling under the weight of inauthentic emotional reactions like shame, blame, and guilt.

    We lived like this for decades. If you could call it living.

    For the longest time, I let my emotions run the show, relying on what felt like a satisfying reaction rather than reflecting on what was or wasn’t actually working.

    Firing off a sarcastic remark felt like I was being heard.

    Pushing the blame on others felt like a solution.

    Launching impulsively into action felt like the surest and fastest way to get the problem behind me!

    In the heat of the moment, a full-blown emotional reaction felt like it was protecting me. Ironically, all it actually protected me from was self-awareness and the change and personal growth that depend on it!

    Unaware that I was making the choice to act out my reactions, I couldn’t see the lack of wisdom in it. After the dust settled and the smoke cleared, the end result was nearly always the same: a truckload of pain, confusion, and an even bigger mess.

    By the time I mustered the courage to seek a divorce, my children were adults. I knew it was time for a massive change, and I thought my newfound courage would empower me to close the door on the powerful and damaging reactive emotions I had been running on for so long.

    But it wasn’t easy.

    As I gained more and more clarity, it became obvious to me: the reactivity I had acted out during my marriage was still surfacing even after my divorce. As Jon Kabat-Zinn said, “Wherever you go, there you are!” Needless to say, this was a hard fact to face.

    By separating myself from an untenable situation, I thought my shame and guilt would disappear with it. Boy, was I wrong!

    I still had a debilitating fear of uncertainty and faced enormous self-doubt about moving into the world on my own. I struggled with guilt and shame about my past life choices.

    I had been acting out some very specific patterns for decades, and over that long stretch those patterns had become habitual. So, whenever I faced a stressful situation, I fell right back into those same old patterns.

    The hard truth was that, like the deep and gnarled roots of an old tree, these emotional patterns of reactivity weren’t coming out without real effort and determination.

    A New Approach: The Practice

    Eventually, it became clear to me that if I wanted real change in my life, I needed a new approach. And that new approach became the fundamental practice of my program, the Inner Peace Blueprint, backed by a key Harvard study on the benefits of mindfulness.

    Researchers found that when practitioners of mindfulness focused awareness on their physiological state, it led to improved emotional regulation, which led to an empowered sense of self.

    So here is what I did:

    Every time I felt myself getting hijacked by shame, guilt, self-pity, insecurity, or fear, I interrupted those reactions by relaxing my physical tension and focusing on my breathing. This is the most basic technique I used—the practice of posture and breath.

    When I felt I couldn’t trust myself (or others), I would do the practice.

    When insecurity hit me as I imagined being on my own after thirty-six years of marriage, I would do the practice.

    When fear and guilt washed over me as I listened to my children talk about their own reactions to the divorce, I would do the practice.

    Remembering to do the practice took a lot of discipline, which was really not that surprising given the fact I had been reacting emotionally for my entire life, getting stuck in my head and going nowhere fast. My reactions were so familiar to me that they felt like who I was. They had become a deeply ingrained habit and were really hard to break.

    Not challenging this habit, however, was simply no longer an option. And the practice was the best way I could see to get the job done, so I stuck with it. Every time I paused to relax my body and breathe, I experienced myself calming down, even if just a little. Over time, I started to see how all the little bits of calm were adding up to a lot more calm.

    What I Learned About Self-Awareness

    With greater calm, greater self-awareness (which I define as “being able to see what I’m really up to”) came pretty naturally.

    I paid close attention to what I said when I was under pressure and asked myself: “Was it constructive or not?”

    Whenever I did something to get the pressure behind me and “make it stop!” I stopped to evaluate if what I did actually helped. Or did it just dig the hole I was in that much deeper?

    The practice afforded me the self-awareness to stop and consider my emotional state before I opened my mouth. It also gave me the self-awareness to make sure I waited until I was calm and clear about what to do (or not do) before proceeding.

    Today, the practice is still my primary self-awareness tool because it always brings me back to the now-moment. When I can focus my attention on my physical tension and release it through breath, I become more aware of my emotional state and can better regulate what I do and say as a result. This, to me, is the definition of self-empowerment.

    Even when I lose sight of how my reaction is impacting and distorting my perception, behavior, and choices, I can be pretty sure that it is and that staying focused on calming down before I respond is always my best bet.

    This new way of responding to my reactions with the practice helped me break the habit of acting out my reactivity and making things worse as a result. And this is what keeps me on a trajectory toward sustainable, lasting transformation.

  • The 3 Ms That Help Me Cope with Seasonal Depression

    The 3 Ms That Help Me Cope with Seasonal Depression

    “The word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” ~Carl Jung

    My two-year-old son looked up at me with his big, blue, beautiful eyes.

    He wanted me to play. I took a toy car in my hand and rolled it along the wooden living room floor we were both sitting on, making an enthusiastic VROOM as I did it. He smiled. He appreciated my effort at sound effects.

    The streetlights standing on the road outside our living room window were already glowing warmly, even though it was barely 4:30 p.m. and the sky was black.

    I miss the summer evenings, I sighed to myself.

    I stared up and out at the darkness briefly before Henry demanded my attention and I found myself looking down, playing cars again. I smiled up at him, doing my best to appear happy. To make him feel like I was enjoying playing cars with him.

    The truth is, I didn’t feel enjoyment playing with him.

    For a few weeks at this point I hadn’t felt much enjoyment from anything.

    I was going through the motions. Attending to my familial and professional responsibilities as best I could. All the while, longing to be back in bed so I could sleep. Except, upon waking up, I never felt fully rested. I was instantly greeted by the same familiar feelings of fogginess, emptiness, and numbness.

    Every morning as I got dressed, it felt like I was dressing myself in armor. Like the knights would wear in the movies I watched as a boy. A heavy metal armor that made the simplest of movements, like getting out of bed in the morning and playing cars with my son, feel like a battle that required all the strength I could muster.

    I’ve suffered from seasonal affective disorder, a type of depression, for all of my adult life, but the winter of 2021 was the worst episode to date.

    I put it down to a combination of sleep deprivation from being a parent to a toddler (I now understand why sleep deprivation is used as a torture technique), ongoing physical and mental challenges with long COVID, and uncertainty around whether I’d see family over the Christmas period due to lockdown restrictions.

    As the darker days descend, I’m preparing myself for another potential battle.

    I know I don’t need to fight this battle alone, so I’ll be calling on my friends and family to support me, as well as working with a therapist who formerly helped me process my experience.

    There were three focuses that helped me get through the depressive episode last year. Here they are, the 3 Ms.

    1. Mindfulness

    Writer Rolf Dobelli suggests that we are two selves—the remembering self and the experiencing self.

    Our remembering self is our story—who we think we are based on our past. My remembering self tells me I’m English, I love a double espresso, and have a history of anxiety and depression.

    My experiencing self is different. My experiencing self is the me who is here, right now.

    Experiencing myself writing.

    Aware of the tapping sound my fingers make as they dance along the keyboard as I type.

    Aware that my heart is beating slightly faster than usual, probably due to the chocolate I scarfed down a few minutes ago.

    Aware of feeling vulnerable as I write about seasonal affective disorder.

    Our experiencing self exists moment to moment, whereas the remembering self only exists in the past, through thought.

    This idea was helpful to me during my 2021 depressive episode because it reminded me that I’m more than a depressed person (which would be a story from my remembering self); I’m a person who feels a lot of sadness, as well as many other feelings and emotions, some that feel comfortable, some that feel uncomfortable.

    Back then, I’d take time each day to practice a mindfulness meditation. Sitting for five minutes, simply observing how I was feeling, importantly, without judgment.

    Noticing what my mind was focusing on, as well as bringing awareness to my emotional state and breath.

    I’d cultivate an attitude of compassion toward myself, avoiding firing the second arrow that’s taught in Buddhism, and not feeling bad for feeling bad.

    I’d simply accept how I felt in the moment and allow myself to feel sad, helpless, and hopeless, without judgment, knowing that my feelings are always fleeting.

    2. Meaning

    The second M that helped me was meaning.

    We’re told the meaning of life is to be happy. But there are going to be periods when we’re simply not going to feel happy. This doesn’t have to mean our life becomes meaningless; instead, it’s in our moments of unhappiness that it’s best to focus on what brings our life meaning.

    Even though I don’t always enjoy playing cars with my son, raising him and spending time with him and his mum gives my life tremendous meaning.

    Some mornings last winter I didn’t feel like getting up, and if I lived alone, I probably would have stayed in bed. But knowing my son and wife were depending on me, I felt a sense of duty to show up and be the best dad and husband I could be given my struggles.

    I showed compassion toward myself by not believing any thoughts saying I needed to be perfect. Instead of choosing to feel ashamed for how I felt, which would make me feel like withdrawing, choosing self-compassion helped me to tackle my various responsibilities but also be realistic and not over-commit.

    It meant honest communication and being okay with doing less than I normally would. I made a Top Ten Actions List by asking myself, what are the most important actions to take today to look after myself and address my responsibilities?

    I also made a list of all the people, places, and activities that give my life meaning and breathe life into my soul and aimed to dedicate time toward them each day. Having a clear and achievable focus was helpful, and as the depression slowly lifted, I was able to return to my normal level of action.

    3. Moments of Joy

    Like the streetlamp I watched glowing warmly from my living window, there were moments during the depressive episode that pierced through the surrounding darkness.

    The sound of my son’s laughter as he chuckled hysterically.

    Feeling the peace and stillness of the forest on my walk.

    Being reunited with friends after lockdown and catching up over a coffee.

    The wisest words I’ve ever heard were these: Look for the good in your life, and you’ll see the good in your life.

    This isn’t a matter of positive thinking—it’s a matter of acknowledgement.

    Even on the days when my mood was at its lowest, there were a handful of joyous moments shaking me temporarily from my depressed state and waking me up to the truth that even on the darkest of nights, there are lights shining for us.

    These lights, the people and events bringing joy to our life, are little beacons of hope, reasons to be appreciative. And basking in their warmth momentarily can keep us trudging along in the darkness until, hopefully, a day arrives when it lifts and the sun rises again.

    At the end of each day last winter, I’d take a minute to write down any joyous moments and bask in their warmth again as I revisited them in my mind.

    —

    The most challenging aspect of depression is how it tries to convince us that not only is everything bad, but everything will stay bad permanently.

    Through focusing on mindfulness, meaning, and moments of joy, fortunately, I was able to see again that this isn’t true.

  • Mindful Forgiveness: 4 Steps to Unlock the Healing Power of Your Mind

    Mindful Forgiveness: 4 Steps to Unlock the Healing Power of Your Mind

    “The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.” ~Steve Maraboli

    The key to healing is learning to let go of negative thoughts and feelings. Mindfulness will allow you to be aware of your thoughts and feelings; forgiveness will help in letting them go.

    Simple as it is in theory, putting it into practice may be harder.

    Mindfulness, being aware of your thoughts and feelings in the present moment, is not that difficult. But the trick is to do it amidst the chaos of our modern way of living.

    Forgiveness is even harder. Our mind sees the events of the past as lessons that are beneficial for our survival and wants to hold on to painful and irritating memories.

    But in the modern world, we rarely need this primal safety mechanism, and the grudges we hold hurt us more than they do good.

    What’s worse, the things we have done, or others have done to us, often make us angry. Anger can be a severely damaging mental condition; not only damaging to our minds but also to our bodies.

    However, taking the time to consciously combine mindfulness with forgiveness will open the way to profound emotional and physical healing, and will eventually lead to a joyful and healthy life.

    Being mindful of your thoughts and feelings will allow you to confront them instead of repressing them. Once confronted, the events that cause those thoughts and feelings can be examined and forgiven.

    I learned this the hard way, but now I want to share what I know so that you can skip the painful part.

    Pain is Often a Prompt to Grow

    Just a few years ago, I thought I had life figured out. I had done everything ‘right,’ succeeded in achieving my goals, and therefore, I expected to be happy.

    After years of rigorous studying, I landed a job at a corporate bank. It was everything I had ever dreamed of. I could finally afford a fancy car. I was surrounded by amazing people. I went to parties, traveled, and had fun. Life was (supposed to be) pretty sweet.

    As fun as it was, it was not healthy in any way. My health started to deteriorate quickly. I gained over thirty pounds, started to have pains in my back and legs, and was always tired.

    What’s worse is that no matter what I did, I could not be happy. I was constantly irritated or anxious and had no idea what was causing these feelings.

    Then one day a realization hit me: I was completely miserable.

    Why was I not feeling any joy in life? I could not understand what the matter was. There was no reason for me to feel how I did. I was doing everything that I had learned was supposed to bring me happiness, yet I still wasn’t happy.

    So there I was: a young man in my mid-thirties, gaining weight, feeling miserable, and losing my mental and physical health in the process.

    I had no idea how to deal with any of this. How was I supposed to deal with my anxious and angry mind when I had never learned to deal with my emotions, let alone express them in a healthy way? The only solution for me was to not confront my feelings at all.

    Before long, I developed a heart arrhythmia, which felt really uncomfortable, especially when trying to sleep. My pulse rate went up to 120 bpm and did not come down no matter how I tried to relax. Sometimes it felt like my heart would stop beating for brief periods of time.

    So I went to a hospital, but the doctor who examined me told me that he couldn’t determine the cause. Physically I was fine, and my EKG was perfect. Like taken from the pages of an anatomy textbook.

    This was, of course, very puzzling. How could my heart seem to be healthy when I was clearly suffering from arrhythmias?

    Lying there in the hospital bed, I had time to think deeply about life. And after some pondering, the answer became obvious.

    Illness Is Created First in the Mind

    My condition was psychosomatic. I understood that my inability to deal with my emotions was piling up negative thoughts and beliefs in my mind, which caused my body to react in a negative way. I had refused to be mindful of my thoughts and feelings, thus being unable to let go of them.

    Only when I was forced to stop and listen to how I truly felt could I find this answer. It was a hard and mandatory lesson in mindfulness, one that still sticks with me today.

    So I decided to confront my negative thoughts and emotions. The process was simple: Stop and take a deep breath. Be still and focus on breathing in and out slowly. Then tune in to how I feel. What are these feelings? Why am I feeling them? What are they trying to tell me?

    I noticed that under the surface, my most dominant feeling was anger.

    I was angry with myself. Why was I not able to deal with my emotions? Why hadn’t I listened to how I felt and tried to repress my emotions instead? Why did I let the situation get so bad?

    I was angry with my parents and teachers. Why didn’t they show me how to express emotions in a healthy way? All I was ever told was “crying is weakness,” and “being angry is not okay; go to your room until you calm down.” Sometimes it was not even okay to show love or affection. So I learned to repress my emotions.

    I was also angry with society. I felt that the only thing I had ever heard about how to be happy was wrong. I did not find happiness by achieving goals or getting material wealth, as is so often taught by society (and everyone else around us for that matter). I had the education, the career, the money, the car, and so on. Yet I was miserable.

    But I knew that it was not necessary to be angry with myself or others. I was only doing what I had learned was right. Likewise, what others had taught me about life, feelings, and happiness was what they had learned themselves. They did not know any better, and their intentions were good.

    So I decided to start forgiving. I used mindfulness meditation to connect to my thoughts and feelings.

    And when I was deeply immersed in my mindfulness meditation and focused on a feeling, often a memory popped into my mind. It was something that someone had said or done that had made me feel angry or afraid.

    I then “healed the memory” through an exercise where I forgave the people involved.

    And wouldn’t you know it, when I started to forgive the things that I or others had done in the past, I healed almost instantly.

    I got rid of all the pain in my mind and body, and there was no sign of arrhythmia anymore. I almost couldn’t believe it. With this simple combination of mindfully identifying thoughts and feelings, then forgiving the people that caused them, I healed my body in two days.

    Two days. That’s all it took to heal over ten years of neglect.

    I also found my mental well-being improving by leaps and bounds. I felt peaceful and happy. I started to see the joy in everyday moments, which I hadn’t for years. I realized that the opportunity to feel joyful was always there, but I’d been so occupied with the past and the future that I was unable to see it.

    The 4 Levels of Forgiveness

    This is what I did, and you can try this too.

    1. Forgive yourself for what you did to yourself.
    2. Forgive yourself for what you did to someone else.
    3. Forgive others for what they did to you.
    4. Forgive others for everything they have done.

    Start with level one and work your way through the levels. With this exercise, you will start to feel better in a matter of days.

    For levels one and two, forgiving yourself, try this simple exercise:

    Think about something you regret. Stand in front of a mirror, look yourself in the eyes, and say, “I forgive you. You did the best you could at the moment. You didn’t know any better.” Repeat this in your mind, or even better, say it out loud. Do it at least five times. After you are done, close your eyes and take a deep breath. Relax.

    This might be the hardest one of the exercises. For some reason, we tend to hold a grudge against our past selves. But it doesn’t do any good to be unforgiving. For a long time, I was guilty of thinking, “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did!” But as I started to do this exercise just once a day, I quickly started to feel like a weight was being lifted off my shoulders.

    For levels three and four, forgiving others, try this quick meditation:

    Close your eyes and relax. Breathe in and out slowly three times. Think about a memory that’s bothering you. Imagine the situation as vividly as possible and pay close attention to the person that’s the cause of your negative feeling.

    Then, imagine the scene you are in starts to fill with bright, warm light. Like the midday sun on a beautiful summer day. Imagine yourself approaching the person that’s causing the suffering and saying to them, “I forgive you. You did the best you could at the moment. You didn’t know any better.” Then imagine giving them a warm, loving, forgiving hug.

    If you feel like you need help with this, you can imagine anyone you want, even multiple people, there with you to give their support. If you so choose, you may even bring to the scene a higher power to help you.

    Done! Open your eyes and take a deep breath. Relax. You may already feel a little lighter, but don’t worry if this takes several tries. It may not be instantaneous or easy, but it’s definitely worth it.

    Everyone Is Doing Their Best (Including You)

    Forgive yourself for not knowing any better at the time. Forgive others for acting the only way they knew how. You acted the way you had learned, and so did everyone else. Please don’t blame yourself and try to forgive others for their behavior. By holding on to fear, anger, or hate, you will ultimately hurt yourself.

    Forgiveness will give you peace of mind. It will allow you to live mindfully and enjoy the moment, which you now understand as a perfect opportunity to express who you are. You will be able to let go of the past and stop worrying about the future, and your life will start to fill with peace and joy.

  • Stay in the Right Lane: Let Yourself Slow Down and Enjoy Life

    Stay in the Right Lane: Let Yourself Slow Down and Enjoy Life

    “I don’t want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.” ~Diane Ackerman

    Wow! My last weeks of my career. Though many days and weeks over the last thirty-four years have seemed to last forever, it truly is astonishing how fast time goes. And don’t we often try to make it go even faster?

    Our jobs are stressful. We are often under tight time constraints and deadlines. We have clients and associates who want and need things yesterday.

    We work in jobs we have very little control over. Add that to our daily responsibilities as parents, spouses, partners, friends, children to aging parents and—not to be forgotten—ourselves. It’s a lot.

    Maybe you are like me. When I was younger, I too often:

    • wanted to fast-forward to a new day, a new week, or a new season of life
    • wished time away
    • focused on that vacation that was months away
    • couldn’t wait until my kids were older
    • had my eye on that next job
    • sought to get through tough circumstances I was facing, or
    • desired to be where someone else was in life

    What did it cost me? Memories and opportunities. I don’t remember many details of when my kids were growing up because I was always thinking ahead. I was not in the moment.

    I missed opportunities to learn and grow because I was always focused on that next thing instead of learning what could help me in that next thing.

    I missed all the beauty this earth has to offer because I was driving too fast.

    It cost me time. I wished away something I can never get back. It cost me the fun of simply living life, my life.

    It has taken me sixty-five years on earth to figure out how to make every moment count. And, if I’m honest, it’s something I must work at every day.

    “Don’t focus on making each moment perfect, focus on the perfection each moment provides, be it a good one, or not so good one.” ~Jenna Kutcher

    Notice that I didn’t say “make every moment happy, productive, or memorable.” Just make it count. Be in it. Live it.

    There are many moments that aren’t happy. In fact, they can be downright sorrowful or exhausting. But, at the same time, they help shape you and enable you to grow.

    I missed many good moments in my life because I was too focused on making the ending happy or perfect to enjoy what was happening right before my eyes.

    A few years ago, my son and I met up with a good friend of mine. We started talking about our kids and what fun it was to go to all of their events when they were younger. I was pounding my chest by bragging about being at all of their events.

    My son, to his credit, challenged me. He said I was there physically, but I wasn’t really there. He told my friend I was always on my phone, or otherwise preoccupied. He was right. I was there but I can’t tell you about the goals they scored, the amazing moves they made, or the songs they sang. It was like a dagger went through my heart. But it was true.

    My dear friend Doug told me a great way he is trying to live right now. He said, “stay in the right lane.” I love that. We often want to get somewhere fast, so we pull into the left lane and zoom past everything to get to the destination. 

    I did that most of my life, in all areas of my life. As I start to live in the right lane, I am having an easier time being more in the moment. I am being intentional.

    I start my day with a routine of praying, journaling, exercising, and setting my focus to not be on one or two things, but to be awed by the wonder of what I might encounter. I intentionally set aside days where I do not have a set schedule.

    As I am more in the moment, I am experiencing all sorts of beauty, joy, amazement, clarity, purposefulness, happiness, and opportunity.

    When you look at my photo library, you will see mostly pictures of bugs, birds, flowers, and trees from my walks. My mind has space to be creative and I am finding clarity on the things I want to do in this season of life, for me. My relationships are flourishing because I am actually there, truly experiencing another person.

    Being present has also allowed me to see myself for more of who I am. I have often said I never felt I was good enough. I felt I had to do more in order to be enough. Now that I have more clarity on who I am, I want to do more, because I am enough. I realize that no matter what I do from here on out, I am good enough. Because of who I am, not what I do.

    Many have asked what I will do in retirement. Like, retirement is the end, so how will you live to the end? I am looking at it more as a transition into the next leg of my journey.

    I am going to continue to live in the right lane, enjoy every moment, create and experience new moments, and focus on the journey itself, not the destination. I plan to live as Laurie Santos puts it, “be happy in my life, and with my life.”

    “The most dangerous risk of all…is the risk of spending your life not doing what you want, on the bet you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.” ~Randy Komisar

    So how do you do that? It isn’t always easy.

    Have good self-awareness (know yourself and trust yourself). Be intentional. Make time for the people and things that matter. Make the time to think about what you really want in life.

    And slow yourself down.

  • 10 Ways to Calm Anxious Thoughts and Soothe Your Nervous System

    10 Ways to Calm Anxious Thoughts and Soothe Your Nervous System

    “Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” ~Jack Canfield

    Freezing in fear is something I have done since I was a child.

    My first home was an unsafe one, living with my alcoholic granddad. Once upon a time, I didn’t know life without fear.

    I learned young to scan for danger. How were everyone’s moods? Were the adults okay today? I would freeze and be still and quiet in an attempt to keep myself safe and control an eruption.

    Unknown to me, between the ages of conception and seven years old, my nervous system was being programmed. The house I grew up in was shaping how safe I felt in my body.

    Living in a house with domestic abuse and alcoholism and losing my beautiful grandmother, who cared for me at five, was enough to make that foundation within me shaky.

    I learned to be on high alert, scanning for danger always, and became incredibly hypervigilant and super sensitive to the moods of others.

    Sometimes this superpower of mine kept me safe as a child. My dad wouldn’t always lose his temper if I was quiet enough. My mum would be available to me if I sensed her mood and provided her with comfort.

    As I grew, this superpower of mine caused me issues.

    I would worry all of the time about the thousand different ways something could go wrong.

    I couldn’t enjoy the moment and what I had right now, as my brain would be scanning for the next problem.

    I couldn’t sleep.

    My anxiety was like this monster in my mind, consumed by all the what-if scenarios, and as a result, I just couldn’t move forward.

    Life didn’t feel safe. Even though I no longer lived in an unsafe environment, my body and my brain were still there.

    This anxiety stopped me from applying for new jobs, challenging myself, dating, healing from the past, changing, and growing.

    I would be frozen by the fear of all that could go wrong. I felt stuck, frustrated with myself, and full of self-hate for living a life that made me miserable.

    The penny dropped one day. I finally realized that this fear was all in my head—99% of the things I worried about didn’t manifest into reality. My anxious thoughts didn’t make anything any better, but they were ruining what I had right now.

    Here are the ten steps that have helped reduce anxiety, fear, and overwhelm and help foster a life of happiness.

    1. Give that anxious, worrying voice in your head a name.

    This creates separation between you and the voice. You are not your thoughts. This is a voice from your ego concerned with survival, and you have the choice to listen or choose a more empowering thought. However, this voice could be sensing real danger, so listen to see if it is a risk to you right now or a potential risk that could happen.

    If real, then of course take action after some deep breaths. Otherwise, continue with the steps.

    2. The minute you hear the voice, recognize it is a sign that your nervous system is dysregulated and moving into fight-or-flight mode.

    Then choose to pause and take a few deep breaths. Coherent breathing can help calm down this response. This means take deep breaths in through your nose, inflating your belly for five seconds, and exhale while deflating your belly for five.

    3. Create a list of tools you can use when your mind and body are about to go down the what-if train.

    This might mean lying on the grass, dancing to your favorite song, EFT (emotional freedom technique) tapping, doing a yoga pose, or journaling to discharge fear. The minute you notice the voice, do something off the list.

    4. Repeat a mantra to calm your nervous system.

    Find a statement that helps calm you down and repeat it when the anxiety voice is back. My favorite is “If X happens, then I will deal with it.”

    5. Get in the present moment.

    What can you hear? What can you see? What can you smell? What can you feel? I like to get outside when I do this. Feel my feet on the grass and take in the moment.

    6. Place your hand on your heart and remind yourself you are safe.

    It probably doesn’t feel that way. But feelings aren’t facts, and your thoughts can only hurt you if you let them.

    7. Notice if you have moved into a freeze state.

    When we first start to worry, our nervous systems go into fight-or-flight mode, and adrenaline and stress hormones pump into our bodies. Then when it all feels too much, we freeze. We’re literally not able to do anything and go into despair.

    You can find the tools that work for you to move from freeze and slowly back up to fight or flight and then up to your calm state. It is a ladder with freeze at the bottom and calm at the top. (It’s called the polyvagal ladder.)

    You can split the list in point three into what helps you through freeze and what helps you out of fight/flight. A great way out of freezing is movement. Even five minutes of jumping jacks will get those stress hormones pumping. Then do something to calm you down, like deep breathing.

    8. Choose to trash the thought.

    Is this something that is a worry for another day? Imagine putting it in a trash bin. Or you can even write it down and put it in the bin physically.

    9. Start to notice your mental state throughout the day.

    Are you calm or triggered by worry? Are you frozen? Or is your heart pumping so your stress response is turned on and you are in fight-or-flight mode? What tool can bring you back to calm or move you up the ladder?

    10. Write what you are grateful for in this moment.

    Noticing what’s going well right now can disarm fear.

    Slowly, these steps can help you to regulate, discharge fear, and allow your nervous system to heal. You may not have been safe as a child, but you have the power to feel safe now.

    You have the power to change your circumstances and remove triggers that are recreating that feeling of unsafety.

    Your fear in your body could be very real and giving you information that maybe a particular relationship, job, or environment is not safe for you. Take notice and make baby steps to create a life that makes you feel safe, as this is the foundation for happiness. Give yourself what you longed for as a child.

    Yes, hypervigilance may be something that got programmed into your nervous system young to help you survive, but you don’t have to let it hold you back now.

    Changing, growing, and healing can feel scary and unsafe, but as you take those baby steps to create a healthier you, your confidence and self-esteem will grow. Your brain will get new evidence that you are safe, and those worrying thoughts will slowly disappear. A new worry may come, but then you can just repeat the process.

    These steps helped me stop living life small and in fear and allowed me to go after my big dreams—finding love, progressing in my career, and even buying a house.

    Anxious thoughts no longer hold me back. I just watch them with curiosity and know the steps I need to take to move through them. I took back the power I lost as a child, and I know you can too!

  • 5 Life Lessons from a Brain Tumor That Could Have Killed Me

    5 Life Lessons from a Brain Tumor That Could Have Killed Me

    “Life is a balance between what we can control and what we cannot. I am learning to live between effort and surrender.” ~Danielle Orner

    I was slumped against a wall at Oxford Circus Station early one Sunday evening when an irritated male voice suddenly barked, “MOVE!”

    Moments beforehand, I had lost my vision.

    Without conscious thought, I muttered, “RUDE!” and staggered off without clearly seeing where I was going.

    It was only months later, on retracing my steps at Oxford Circus, that I realized I’d been blocking his view of some street art.

    I’d allowed a guy to bully me out of the way while in a vulnerable state so that he could take a picture for social media.

    Lesson 1: Not all disabilities are visible.

    We can never fully know what someone else is experiencing. Mental health, chronic pain, and disabilities are not always apparent. So, when we come from a place of not knowing and are patient with others by default, we open up a window of possibility that exists outside of our judgment.

    Minutes prior, I’d stepped off an underground train and onto an upward escalator. A pain hit my right temple like a bullet. It took my breath away, everything went black, and I felt I might faint.

    Desperately, I clung to the railing. And as the top of the escalator approached, my right foot went floppy, and my vision disappeared. I could see light and color, but the world was blurry, lacking definition.

    I used what little vision I had to follow the distinctive white curve of Regent Street down to a spot where I’d arranged to meet a friend

    Panic finally set in when I realized that my friend was walking toward me, and I could recognize his voice but I could not see his face at all.

    We sat down in a restaurant, and a concerned waitress brought a sugary drink.

    My mind went into overdrive: “Had I cycled too much? Was my blood sugar low? Had I eaten/drank enough? Given myself a stroke? Was I just stressed?”

    Twenty minutes later, my vision slowly returned.

    Relieved but freaked out, I asked my friend if he thought I should go to A&E (ER). He said, “Only if you think you need to.” I felt silly. Scared to take up space. Afraid of being a drama queen. I didn’t trust myself or my experience.

    LESSON 2: Don’t seek external validation.

    The opinions of others are helpful, but only you see and experience life from your own unique perspective. Learning to trust and validate our own experience first and foremost is how we step in our power.

    Later I went back home but couldn’t shake it off.

    The next morning, I visited my doctor, who sent me straight to A&E (ER). The hospital admitted me overnight, concerned it was a mini stroke or aneurysm. But the following morning they discharged me, citing dehydration as the cause.

    One week later, I was back in A&E. More dizziness, more foot numbness, more blurred vision. A doctor described it as “classic Migraine Aura.”

    My gut leapt; that didn’t feel right. “I don’t get headaches,” I protested. “I rarely take painkillers. Why so many all of a sudden?”

    They seemed confident it wasn’t serious, but booked an MRI scan, just to be certain.

    Twenty-five minutes of buzzing, clanking, and humming later, I glided out of an MRI scanner.

    I thanked the technician. “All good?” I asked.

    “It’s very clear,” she replied.

    LESSON 3: Listen to your gut.

    If your gut says that something is off, listen to it. A gut feeling is typically a lurch from your stomach rather than chatter from the mind.

    My gut knew it wasn’t migraines; it told me so, and if I hadn’t strongly advocated for myself, then I may not have got that MRI scan.

    A week later, I was back with my local doctor, experiencing vertigo and earache.

    Did I have an ear infection? Was that the issue all along, some sort of horrible virus affecting my sight and balance?

    The GP opened my records up on his computer and his face immediately dropped.

    “Do you mind if I take a moment to read this?”

    “Of course,” I said.

    He composed himself but his face was ashen.

    “Has anyone spoken to you about your MRI result?” he ventured at last.

    I found myself detaching from reality, like I was watching a movie.

    He told me that they’d found a lesion on my brain and there was a possibility of brain cancer. “I’m so sorry,” he offered finally.

    I left and immediately burst into tears.

    Six days I lived with the idea of having brain cancer.

    Had it spread? How would they treat it? Could they treat it?

    More dizziness, more vertigo ensued, and a wise friend firmly told me to go back to the emergency room and refuse to leave until I got answers.

    Reluctantly, I entered A&E (ER) for the third time.

    After a long wait, a neurologist sprang from nowhere, took me to a room, and showed me my MRI scan. I was shocked by the large white circle in the middle of it.

    “How big is that?” I gasped.

    “About the size of a pea,” the doctor said casually. “I believe it’s a colloid cyst, a rare, benign, non-cancerous tumor. It can be removed by operation, using a minimally invasive, endoscopic camera.”

    Relief flowed through me. “It’s not cancer?”

    After reassuring me it was not, the doctor sent me away, telling me to await further news.

    Outside the hospital I hung around updating loved ones by phone. Suddenly a withheld number rang.

    It was the neurologist: “I’ve spoken with neurosurgeons, and they think you should be admitted to the hospital for emergency surgery. If the cyst bursts you have one to two hours max, or that’s it.”

    “Okay,” I stammered. “I’m actually still at the hospital.”

    “Not this hospital,” he said. “A different one.”

    A taxi ride later, it was 5 p.m., and I was in an emergency room for the second time that day and fourth time that month. Despite the chaos around me, I eventually curled up and got a little sleep.

    Suddenly it was 3.30 a.m. and I was still in A&E. Staff rushed in, grabbed my bed, and hurtled me through corridors. Bright lights from London’s skyscrapers flashed past windows, everything surreal and movie-like again

    The next day, surgeons explained that they wouldn’t be sure that they could reach the tumor until they operated, and there were four different options for surgery, ranging from a minimal endoscopic camera through to opening my skull up with major surgery.

    I hoped and prayed for endoscopy but wouldn’t know the outcome until I woke up.

    The operation was planned for 8 a.m. the following morning. I said an emotional goodnight to my sister. Suddenly a lady interrupted us and said, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I saw you earlier and you don’t look sick enough to be on this ward.”

    And there it was—the trigger again, the gift, the insight, the lightbulb moment:

    “Despite how bad I feel on the inside, I don’t look ill enough to have a brain tumor.”

    I didn’t look ill enough to the guy at Oxford Circus taking a selfie.

    I didn’t look ill enough to my friend.

    I didn’t look ill enough to the doctors who turned me away initially.

    And now I didn’t look ill enough for this lady’s expectations of who should be in a head trauma ward.

    I breathed into that pain. Into the feeling of not being seen. Of not being heard.  Of not being validated. Of feeling like a fraud, an imposter. Of not deserving to take up space. Of not trusting my experience.

    And when I found my center, I quietly replied, “Actually, I’m having surgery to remove a brain tumor tomorrow morning.”

    Her face fell, then she wished me luck and moved on.

    LESSON 4: Our triggers are our gifts.

    When we are triggered, it shows us what needs to heal.

    It was me who felt unworthy of taking up space. It was me who felt like a fraud. She was simply my mirror. It’s up to me to heal those aspects within myself and to believe that I’m worthy of taking up space—and to then take it.

    The next morning, my operation got pushed back. It was a major trauma hospital, and bigger emergencies took precedent. I engaged in mindfulness to stay centered.

    I did an hour of breathwork to calm my nervous system. I listened to uplifting music to raise my vibration. I watched emotionally safe movies to collect warm, fuzzy vibes. I drew on my iPad and alchemized my head tumor into a cute pea cartoon character—benign, polite, and cute, not threatening at all.

    A porter arrived at 5.30 p.m. and whisked me away for surgery. After weeks of surrendering to the unknown, it was now time for the ultimate surrender of any illusion of control. I took a deep breath as anesthetic filled my veins.

    LESSON 5: Surrender.

    We can’t always control what happens to us or the outcome. We can only control what happens inside of us and how we choose to show up. We take our power back when we lean into the unknown and surrender. When we resist our current reality, we suffer more.

    I woke up two hours later and got sick.

    My brain was rebalancing after months of increased head pressure. Clutching a blue plastic bag, I looked up to see one of London’s best neurosurgeons waving cheerfully at me. “Your operation is over. We used an endoscope. Minimal invasion. We think we got it all, and it’s not likely to come back.”

    Relief, nausea, and gratitude flowed in abundance.

    I dozed a little while morphine played tricks on my mind. Delicious little dreams filled my head, and I saw the world as one big, animated garden with flowers as cartoon characters.

    I giggled at the thought of plants acting as humans do and imagined an aggressive rose bush declaring war on all of the other plants and throwing bombs. It seemed ridiculous. Humans should be more like flowers, I thought—less ego, just growing, flourishing, blooming.

    I enjoyed this magical trip a little longer, a welcome respite from the hell of the last month, and eventually they wheeled me back to the ward.

    I arrived in time to see the sun setting across London from the twelfth floor.

    It was magnificent. Its beauty, color, and intensity moved my weary body to tears.

    A nurse came to check that I was okay, and I assured her that I was crying happy tears.

    I silently watched the sun as it made its final slip over the horizon, safe in the knowledge that I’d survived another day.

  • Freedom Is the Space Between Each Judgmental or Righteous Thought

    Freedom Is the Space Between Each Judgmental or Righteous Thought

    “It is inner stillness that will save and transform the world.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Life is hard. Impenetrable at times. How can we use our spirituality to navigate through the density of life?

    That question inspired this piece of writing. And my navigation tool is almost effortless; I feel compelled to share it.

    When my mind is churning and burning with thoughts and fears and worries, I take myself off to a quiet place, get still, and watch my mind. I wait for the tiny gap between each thought. Bingo.

    That space, that little gap, is freedom in its truest, purest form. It is the birthplace of peace. And every time I enter that space, I am no longer at war with anything. Despite what madness may surround me, that place always remains untouched. It is like an infinite reservoir of strength and love—one that feels like, well, freedom.

    How I came to find that reservoir is a long and nuanced story (that’s why I wrote a whole book about it), but I’ll try and give you the nutshell version.

    Essentially, to even find it, I had to first get to the point where I was so disillusioned—with my cancer, with people, with the system, with the greed, with the house chores, with the destruction of the planet, with war, and with life full stop.

    Little did I know it then, but that disillusionment was freedom’s gateway.

    For so long, I looked to ‘the other’ as the source of my disillusionment.

    Sometimes ‘the other’ was a person, sometimes it was a situation—my cancer, the pandemic, the person who I believed had wronged me, the political party; anything or anyone that caused a disturbance to my happiness fell into this bucket.

    Of course, it felt good to blame cancer, that person, or the pandemic for my woes, at least on the surface. Yet the blaming was also the root of my suffering. The biggest wars I’ve had in my own life were when I was trying to get ‘the other’ to yield / change / admit they have it wrong so I could live in peace.

    But the true source of my disillusionment was never with them. When I stopped waiting for the situation to change and shifted my attention to my mind, I observed something that floored me at first: my own righteousness.

    Staring back in the mirror were my tendencies to be correct, envy, judge, complain, and win. That mirror revealed one simple truth: I was adding to the war I desperately wanted to end. I had arrived at the place where I was simply fed up—no longer fed up with life but rather fed up with the suffering caused by my very own mind.

    The challenges and hindrances of life may have taken you to a similar point—the point where you’ve had enough. Before freedom is even possible, this stage is necessary, essential even.

    The world is unsatisfying. So, now what? This is freedom’s front door. It is the opening to the very core of your being. When we have had enough of looking outside for contentment, only then do we look inward. This is where the rubber meets the road.

    But we have to go deeper—beyond the mind, beyond our thoughts about what is right vs. wrong, left vs. right—to our essential oneness.

    And, as a collective, I think we get there by asking ourselves one simple question: Do I want peace or war?

    If it is peace, we must start with the peace in our minds. In all the frenzy, it is possible to simply stop and enter into the space between every thought. Rest there for a few scared moments. Feel the ease wash over every cell of our being. Come home to that again and again. Life doesn’t need to be any different to enter that space.

    That space is freedom. And true freedom is not bound in any person or situation. Freedom is what sits underneath the war. It is found in the tiny gap between every righteous and non-righteous thought; it occurs through stillness.

    From this stillness, I’ve learned (yes, the hard way) that we can speak our truth, but now we speak it without the need to control any outcome.

    For example, rather than trying to force my husband to read a spiritual book instead of opting for Netflix—as if I know what’s right and best for him—I can respect him for where he is at in his inner journey. I still act. I still suggest books. But my happiness is not dependent on his choice.

    Instead of being angry at a friend who hurt me, I can step out of my righteousness and cultivate empathy for where she is at in her life. I still reach out. I still attempt resolution. But my peace is not dependent on her response.

    I throw my seeds of truth, dug up from the depths of my heart, out into my family and the world. Sometimes they land in the fertile soil of ‘the other,’ and sometimes they don’t. So be it. It is action without criticism, judgment, blame or control—without the war. I had found a place within where I could look at ‘the other’ and feel compassion and even love instead of anger and annoyance.

    Eckhart Tolle says, “It is inner stillness that will save and transform the world.”

    I couldn’t agree more. Because from that place, from the silent stillness within, war is not escalated but instead averted.

    So, to anyone feeling disenchanted, I want to honor you and say one thing: The freedom your soul is aching for is within arm’s reach. It is as close as your breath, as close as the space between each of your thoughts.

  • What Carrots Are You Chasing, and Are They Worth the Sacrifice?

    What Carrots Are You Chasing, and Are They Worth the Sacrifice?

    “Not to arrive at a clear understanding of one’s own values is a tragic waste. You have missed the whole point of what life is for.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt

    I promise this essay isn’t an attempt to convince you that you’re living inside The Matrix. (Okay, maybe it is a bit.)

    But do you ever find that days, weeks, or even months have passed that you didn’t feel present for? I describe this odd sensation as feeling like you’re going through the motions like Bill Murray trapped in Groundhog Day.

    Every day bleeds into the next because you’re future-focused, and what you’re doing right now only feels valuable insofar as it’s laying the groundwork for something else; the next stage of your career, the renovation that means the house is “done,” a number in the bank account that means you’ll never have to worry about money again.

    I think it’s fair to say we both know this is total BS. We’ve climbed enough mountains in our lifetime to know that as soon as we get what we want, we’re already planning what’s next.

    The problem is not with the aim or the goal but with the belief that we can cross a finish line that will magically make these uncomfortable feelings disappear. In psychology, they call this the hedonic treadmill.

    You know that promotion that would change your life?

    You know that new kitchen you obsess over because it would make life much better?

    You know that extra cash that would mean all of life’s money troubles would disappear?

    Will they provide everlasting happiness?

    Doubtful.

    We can blame this on the hedonic treadmill.

    It’s in our human nature to quickly return to a relatively stable level of happiness despite major positive or negative events or life changes.

    Put another way: No matter what we do, buy, or hope will change our life permanently, it’s a short-lived shot of happiness injected into our life.

    I understand why people don’t want to believe this. Because it forces us to question why we’re working so damn hard to change things and to be present with what is right now.

    When I realized this, I began to reflect on what it meant for my life in a way I couldn’t when I was lost in the chase. Accepting that we have a baseline is liberating. Most of what we’re chasing is nothing more than stupid carnival prizes in a game we didn’t know we were playing.

    If the $40,000 kitchen renovation will give you a flash-in-the-pan taste of happiness, is it worth the years of your life you need to sacrifice to pay that off?

    Is it worth more hours in the office?

    Is it worth less time with your family?

    Is it worth the crippling stress?

    You have no control over the hedonic treadmill. Still, you can control how much of your life you’re willing to trade for a future that won’t make you any happier in the present.

    It’s a hard habit to break because, as philosopher Alan Watts explains:

    “Take education. What a hoax. As a child, you are sent to nursery school. In nursery school, they say you are getting ready to go on to kindergarten. And then first grade is coming up and second grade and third grade… In high school, they tell you you’re getting ready for college. And in college you’re getting ready to go out into the business world… [People are] like donkeys running after carrots that are hanging in front of their faces from sticks attached to their own collars. They are never here. They never get there. They are never alive.”

    It’s drilled into us from the day we’re born to always think of what’s next.

    You end up chasing carrots to eat when you’re not even hungry. Hell, you probably don’t even like the taste of carrots.

    This lack of presence is toxic for our children. They end up repeating the same cycle we do when we role model the idea that we need to prioritize a future self (that may never come) over time spent with them.

    Life only feels short because we burn much of our alive time on shit that doesn’t matter.

    Do you want to experience a deep, rich, and fulfilling life?

    Start by asking, what carrots are you chasing? Are they worth the sacrifice? And what values would you honor in the present if you stopped living for the future?

    I can say family means everything to me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to support and provide for them. But if I’m consumed by my phone when I’m with my ten-month-old daughter, what value am I reinforcing? To make more money in my business so I have the freedom to do exactly what I’m too busy to enjoy right now?

    To honor my values means putting the phone down, looking into her eyes, and giving her literally the only thing she wants and needs from me. My presence. And that right there—being present enough to enjoy our lives—is what will give us the happiness we crave.

  • 5 Meditation Retreat Practices to Try at Home for a More Mindful Life

    5 Meditation Retreat Practices to Try at Home for a More Mindful Life

    “Meditation is the ultimate mobile device; you can use it anywhere, anytime, unobtrusively.” ~Sharon Salzberg

    It was the fifth night of my first silent retreat, and 100 of us spilled out of the meditation hall into darkness, flashlights swinging as we made our way along the path to our dorms and sleep.

    Suddenly the wind picked up and quiet excitement rippled through the group as we looked up to see a bank of clouds move and reveal a full moon, beaming a bright white light from the night sky. We stopped and stood, some of us for hours, gazing upwards.

    This is a painfully obvious metaphor, I wanted to say to someone.

    Despite my natural cynicism, despite the sleepiness and agitated thinking that had haunted my meditation for days, as I looked up at the moon I thought: In a world this beautiful, how can I not pay attention?

    Days later, when my weeklong retreat ended and I came home, I was reminded that being on a retreat is a lot different from regular life.

    I can’t see the sky let alone the moon from my house, and my time is punctuated by the sound of email notifications instead of gongs. But is it possible to recapture some of the mindfulness you can cultivate on a meditation retreat? Here are five strategies I am trying, and you can try too.

    1. Enjoy a daily meditative meal (or snack).

    On the first day of our retreat one of the teachers gave an inspiring talk just before lunch. Every mealtime is an opportunity to practice, he said. Try smelling each spoonful of food before you put it in your mouth. Put your silverware down between each bite.

    Lunch that day was the longest meal I have ever experienced. We considered each bite of salad, noting the whiff of vinegar in the dressing and the crunch of the greens. I grew to know the subtle flavor of plain brown rice, and the multisensory experience of holding a mug of hot tea to my lips and inhaling the lightly scented steam before sipping.

    It was reinforcing to be in such a large group enjoying meals together so slowly and quietly, but everyday life presents multiple mindful eating opportunities as well.

    Post-retreat, I try for at least one meditative meal. Where I would once wolf down lunch while scrolling through Twitter, I create space to experience the flavor of the food and note the texture. It works for snacks too—you can really taste the salt on your lips from the first bite of a chip. An added bonus: All that chewing is great for digestion.

    2. Ground yourself by walking.

    Much of the retreat schedule can be summed up as “seated meditation followed by walking meditation.” The sitting-walking pattern helps break up the day and ideally prevents us from dozing off on the meditation cushion.

    Slow meditative walking, with its noting of the “lift, move, step” motions of our feet, felt like a close cousin of seated meditation. Normally paced walking in the hills of the retreat center was still more inspiring, as I tried to tune into each step connecting me to the earth.

    At home, where sitting at a desk dominates my awake time, I am incorporating periods of mindful walking—even if it is just down the hall. Between meetings or projects, I get up and feel the floor under my feet with each step, noting the swinging of my arms, and the way the fabric of my pants moves across my legs.

    Longer walks, taking in the sights of the neighborhood without a distracting podcast, is also part of my new routine. With or without the mental noting of “lift, move, step,” walking can effectively bring our minds back into our bodies.

    3. Befriend a tree.

    One retreat teacher encouraged us to select a tree from the surrounding forests and forge a connection with it. We each considered our tree’s solidity, the sap running through it, the wind in its branches bringing constant change, and the co-arising circumstances that led to its growth. It was common to round a path in the woods and come across someone standing looking up at a tree, seated at its roots, or even swaying in rhythm to its movements.

    Back in the city, I can simply sit on my front steps and contemplate the river birch in the yard without alarming my neighbors. I pay attention to the subtle grays and whites of its bark, the way its leaves almost shimmer in the breeze. I have lived with it for years, but this tree is now a brilliant object of meditation in my daily life. Cheesy as it sounds, the tree has become a friend I greet with a smile every morning.

    4. Embrace mindful chores.

    Just like the summer camp I attended as a kid, my retreat required us all to sign up for a job. My work meditation was to chop vegetables in the afternoon. It became a highlight of my day to carefully peel parsnips or work my way through a box of eggplants, guiding the knife into the flesh to create slices then cubes I would eventually see in the evening meal.

    In everyday life, chopping vegetables can feel like a boring imposition, something to rush through between more exciting activities. But when you have been meditating all day the subtle pleasures of chores become clearer.

    I try to invoke some of that mindfulness at home, feeling the weight of the knife in my hand as I chop, and taking the time to focus all my attention on removing the peel from a carrot. Using vegetables as my gateway I am now experimenting with mindful dishwashing. Soap bubbles can be a revelation if you really pay attention.

    5. Take a break from needing to “be” someone.

    When you are on silent retreat, you’re not just quiet, you’re existing anonymously within a large group of people. It was enormously relaxing not needing to “be” someone for a week—and eye-opening to recognize how much effort goes into conjuring up the ideal “me” to present in social situations.

    In not speaking to one another, or even looking each other in the eye, my fellow retreatants and I could co-exist, focusing on our experiences in the moment instead of mentally rehearsing what we would say at dinner.

    I admit to secretly pondering the backstories of my fellow retreatants, and I was certain that people were judging me whenever I forgot to take off my shoes inside or made other newbie mistakes. But overall, our shared silence created much more space to do what we were doing without extra mental labor.

    The relaxation of silent co-existence can be harder to achieve in the regular world, where our work and family lives can hinge on being visible and vocal.

    Taking “non-being” home for me has meant noticing the relaxing qualities of being alone, rather than looking for distractions, and recognizing the temptation to needlessly make an impression in passing interactions as I go about my day. That jokey comment to the barista might be less about being friendly and more about being noticed.

    I’ve also brought a new kind of attention to gathering places like the grocery store or library, asking myself: Can I navigate among people without comparing, judging, fixing, or asserting an ego that demands attention?”

    As Sharon Salzberg so wisely says, we can use meditation anywhere. I had the privilege of dropping out of the daily grind for a weeklong retreat, and literally saw the clouds part for a moment of insight. In the time since returning, however, I see that many of the retreat’s greatest gifts were the less flashy moments—the practices that provide tools for the other fifty-one weeks of the year.

  • Emotionally Imbalanced? How Qigong Can Help You Heal Your Mind and Body

    Emotionally Imbalanced? How Qigong Can Help You Heal Your Mind and Body

    “In order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did and why you no longer need to feel it.” ~Mitch Albom

    The marble tile felt cold and hard against the side of my body as I lay sobbing and shaking on the floor. Some part of my mind nudged me to get to the couch, but I couldn’t. What did it matter?

    Tears kept flowing as my moans of “Why? Why? Why?” echoed through the room. Despite the discomfort, I curled into a tighter fetal position on the floor, continuing to sob and whimper. Every once in a while, I would cough and gag, a familiar side effect of crying so hard.

    After ten minutes, I had the clarity and energy to get up. I wiped my tears, blew my nose, and took several deep breaths, each one shaky and ragged.

    This moment mirrored dozens of other similar moments over the past two years. The severity had lessened, perhaps due to therapy or simply the passing of time. However, I never knew the deep sorrow would hit again and bring me down, literally.

    Most people experience this type of loss at some point. Mine resulted from a dearly loved and close family member telling me they never wanted to talk to me again and wanted me out of their life, in words much harsher and more hurtful.

    Deeply rooted feelings of insecurity from a childhood filled with physical and emotional abuse rose to the surface (that’s a story for another time), compounding my feelings of wretchedness, unworthiness, and loss.

    As I mentioned above, time and an incredible estrangement therapist had begun to heal some of the pain. I gravitated to therapy because I have my master’s and part of my PhD in Psychology. My clients found relief and recovery with me through cognitive behavioral, narrative, and art therapy methods. I did feel better talking with my skilled and experienced therapist.

    However, I continually felt unstable. Imagine having to walk on a balance beam all the time. You get used to it and feel more competent, but you never have the same stability as walking on solid ground. I knew I had to get my emotions on firm footing.

    I had used Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) as my primary healthcare model for eight years. I know the acupuncture and herbs eased some of the extreme sadness. However, after this bout of waterworks and wailing, I realized I needed to learn more about what TCM says about the emotions. So I began to research, and my life changed forever.

    According to TCM, imbalanced emotions cause disease and mental health problems. Each organ relates to a pair of emotions, and when they are healthy you let go of the imbalanced emotions and retain a balanced state.

    • Lungs: Imbalanced = loss, grief, and sorrow; Balanced = dignity, integrity, and courage
    • Kidneys: Imbalanced = fear, loneliness; Balanced = self-confidence and inner strength
    • Liver: Imbalanced = anger, frustration, impatience; Balanced = kindness and compassion
    • Heart: Imbalanced = nervousness, excessive joy, and anxiety; Balanced = joy, contentment, and tranquility
    • Spleen: Imbalanced = overthinking, obsessiveness, and worry; Balanced = trust and openness

    I felt a significant shift in how I viewed emotions. Clarity arose about how my state of mind harmed or healed my body and vice versa.

    The good news from my research was that people can skillfully balance their feelings.

    One of the most powerful tools to do so is qigong.

    Two Chinese characters comprise qigong: qi 气and gong 功. You can roughly translate qi to mean energy or life force. It’s more complicated than that, but that imagery works for this discussion. Gong means work or skill. Therefore, qigong means developing skill in working with energy.

    Qigong originated from primitive people’s efforts to nurture their health. In fact, in 1957, when archaeologists excavated graves from over 5,000 years ago, they found a colored ceramic basin painted with a figure doing various qigong movements.

    Qigong in ancient China was also called tuna (adjustment of breathing), daoyin (moving the body and breathing), zuochan (sitting in meditation), or neigong (internal exercise). These translations emphasize the importance of breathing and using the mind when doing qigong exercises.

    A nice description of qigong for today is the skill of physical and mental training that weaves together the functions of the body, breathing, and the mind. When you integrate these three elements, you adjust the yin and yang balance in your body to prevent and reverse physical and mental disease.

    The key to remember is that, just as with any other skill, you need to practice.

    Living in Shanghai, China at the time of my exploration, I joined qigong classes at the parks near my home. At the time I wasn’t immersed in the theory, just the movements. This level of practice brought a sense of relief. I didn’t feel on the verge of falling off the balance beam at any given moment.

    Nevertheless, the shaky foundation persisted. So, I dove deeper into medical qigong theory and completed my qigong teacher certification to broaden my insights. During these studies, the healing power of sounds, colors, finger mudras, and walking patterns emerged as tools for balancing the emotions.

    For example, as you read above, my sorrow and sadness related to my lungs. The lungs tie to the metal element, the season of fall, the color white, and the emotional healing sound “ssss.” The annual respiratory illnesses each autumn, the anniversary of the estrangement, finally made sense.

    Another medical qigong concept I found affirmed that the initial willingness to cry served a purpose.

    To illustrate, my study of qigong taught me that feeling and expressing emotions helps clear stagnant energy so the body can rebalance. For instance, there is an expression of long-term physical ailments being caused by “unshed tears.” Puffiness under the eyes is one symptom of this sub-health condition. Crying as needed serves as an important role in healing, and I had definitely done plenty of crying.

    Having said that, lingering in this state slows recovery. Qigong exercises help focus the mind and release the imbalanced aspects of emotions from the body. Through qigong, the stagnant energy returns to the earth for recycling, and you live in a balanced state.

    Perhaps the most efficacious tool for qigong practice is nature.

    Qigong practitioners learn how to gather qi from plants, water, soil, sand, canyons, mountains, oceans, rivers, etc., as well as how to use this qi for regeneration and repair. You might have seen the plethora of new “forest bathing” books in bookstores. This healing modality stems from the same ancient roots as qigong and demonstrates the effectiveness of nature to heal.

    You focus on the present moment, fully immersed in the sensations surrounding you and your breath.

    As I’ve practiced and applied the curative tools of qigong, my literal and figurate feet are planted on the ground. Instead of balancing precariously on a thin beam of wood, I experience the ebbs and flows of life like a tree. My roots run deep into the earth creating a solid foundation, and my trunk serves as a stable core. From this position of solidity, my branches and leaves blow with the wind, experiencing the world. The tree remains stable and strong yet lives and enjoys life.

    Whether extreme happiness (the birth of my grandson) or broken heartedness (my continued estrangement) come my way, I use the tools and mindset of qigong to rebalance. I learn the lessons each emotion teaches me and come back to center, rooted in nature and the present moment.

    I no longer crumple to the floor. Now, when the subtle energy shifts that occur when thinking of my estrangement surface, they nudge me instead of assailing me.

    The greatest gift from this experience is the opportunity to teach others about qigong for emotional healing.

    Your body wants to partner with you to heal and balance your emotions. Whether with me or other skilled qigong practitioners, you now have another tool to add to your toolbox of emotional well-being.

  • What Happiness Means and How I’m Boosting My Day-to-Day Joy

    What Happiness Means and How I’m Boosting My Day-to-Day Joy

    “Don’t let this silly world trick you into starving your soul for material things. Cause someday you’re gonna be sitting out under the sun and realize how little you actually need to be truly happy.” ~Brooke Hampton

    Three years ago, at the height of pandemic, I made many pitchers of lemonade from scratch. This newfound ritual was one of the better things about being on lockdown.

    I’d hand squeeze a big bag of lemons for about one-third cup of juice, and experiment by adding vanilla extract, mint, and tablespoons of honey. I’d bring my drink outside, where I sat for as long as I dared in a lawn chair, sipping the elixir and daydreaming. It made me oddly happy, and even after a return to normal, I still like to indulge myself this way.

    My family wanders outside to check on me when I burn up a Saturday—and sometimes dinner—doing this. I’m just as annoyed as they are by the intrusion, little decorated paper straw sticking out of my glass, open book from Target on my lap.

    Isn’t that kind of expensive, my mother asked me once, and I had to laugh because the answer to that question is both yes and no.

    Does self-care cost the same as going out to a really nice meal, a vacation, clothes shopping? No. Then again, sitting for long periods, with a cold drink in your hand and doing absolutely ‘f-ck all’ as my teenaged son would say, isn’t how you’re going to afford a full and active lifestyle.

    I began to wonder if having fun and happiness are the same thing.

    I interviewed about a half dozen people on the subject, from therapists to friends—most were of the opinion that having fun and being happy are not mutually exclusive.

    “We don’t talk about our happiness. When we’re happy we’re busy being happy, and the unimportant things fade away. I never could keep a journal outside of the bad periods, because I forgot to write it down when the good was happening,” wrote a friend on Twitter.

    Dr. Sigmund Freud boiled happiness down to instant gratification:

    “What we call happiness, in the strictest sense, comes from the (preferably sudden) satisfaction of needs which have been dammed up to a high degree.”

    I think when I was a kid, I embodied Freud’s words. At age ten, I was the proverbial lab rat, pressing again and again on the same bar, hoping instant gratification would come out.

    Benny’s Oyster Bar in 1983 was that pellet. My family didn’t have much money at the time, so it was a real treat when we ate out.

    A hole in the wall, Benny’s was about two blocks from my Dad’s office, yet I can’t remember if we walked there or drove. In my unsophisticated mind, that restaurant—now a bike repair shop—was the best place on earth for hotdogs and crinkle cut fries drenched in ketchup that you squeezed from a bottle, while listening to a jukebox that competed (and lost) to noisy air-conditioning.

    We always chose to go there on a whim, and it only happened about four out of every ten times we were dragged to my dad’s place of business.

    He sold insurance, relying on my mom for clerical help. If we went to Benny’s, it usually meant my dad was having a good day.

    Thinking back on Benny’s makes me see that one of the main components to happiness is feeling safe and loved in equal measure.

    It didn’t have to be a trip to Benny’s Oyster Bar to make me practically swoon with happiness as a kid. Sometimes it was pretending to be mermaids in my friend’s pool, binge watching The Smurfs, or spending time with my cat.

    As an adult, my happiest moments remain just as uncomplicated.

    I’m a good guinea pig for this happiness experiment since I’ve never actually been depressed. That being said, I’ve only been “truly happy” a handful of times—my it doesn’t get any better than this moments slipping through my fingers before I’m aware they ever happened.

    I asked a psychologist, who works for a Florida county school board, how he’d define happiness.

    “Happiness can be one of the four core emotions. It involves dopamine hits to your hypothalamus. Easy. Then you have the cerebral cortex interpreting that which makes humans more of a pain in the ass to understand,” he said.

    What I took from this is that human happiness can be as unique as our thumbprints. It’s difficult to define, no matter who you are or where you come from.

    An artist I know put it this way:

    “Personally, I believe happiness is fleeting. I’m trying on using the idea of contentment instead. Am I content? Are there ways I can work on aspects to be more content in my life?”

    She may be on to something.

    I’m sure we’ve all heard expectation is the root of suffering, so maybe instead of expecting anything to make us happy all the time, we just need to prioritize the things that bring us joy—even if they look like “wasting time” to everyone else. Then we could visit our happy places more often and stay as long as we like when we get there.

  • 4 Anxiety-Calming Techniques I Wish I Used When I Freaked Out on a Plane

    4 Anxiety-Calming Techniques I Wish I Used When I Freaked Out on a Plane

    “When thinking about life, remember this: No amount of guilt can solve the past, and no amount of anxiety can change the future.” ~Unknown

    I was buckled in on a small, twenty-person airplane, and we were heading toward the runway, when I looked out the window and saw the airplane wheel was wobbling.

    I gathered my courage, unbuckled my seatbelt, and approached the flight attendant, who told me to sit back down.

    “I think there’s something wrong with the wheel,” I said.

    He looked out the window and said, “It’s fine.” But then he radioed the pilot, who turned the plane around.

    They checked it out, and it turns out the wheel was fine.

    In retrospect, I recognize I wasn’t responsible for the pilot turning the plane around. That was his decision, based on the information I’d provided. But the wheel wasn’t, in fact, wobbling. My anxious mind was just playing tricks on me.

    I felt guilty that one passenger, a surgeon, had to miss his scheduled surgery and that others were delayed. And the ironic thing was that I was on the flight to attend the somatic psychotherapy program where I was learning to reduce my anxiety and how to help others.

    I learned a lot from this experience and wanted to share the techniques that have helped me calm my anxiety since then.

    1. Move your body.

    Anxiety is part of the fight-or-flight response, which is designed to keep your body safe. The trigger for the anxiety is external, but you must complete the stress cycle on the nervous system level.

    In her New York Times bestselling book Burnout, Dr. Emily Nagoski shares that the stress cycle has a beginning, a middle, and an end. If you get stuck in the middle, you need to help your body complete the stress cycle.

    In the past, you would be chased by a lion, and then hopefully a neighbor would open the door and you’d run in, slamming the door behind you.

    It may seem like you’d feel better because the lion was gone, but on a scientific level, we now know you’d feel better because you ran and the endorphins helped you complete the stress cycle.

    If you’re feeling anxious, go for a walk around the block or put on your favorite song and dance. Even on the plane I could have pushed my feet into the floor and squeezed the arm rests to process some of my anxiety physically, but I didn’t.

    2. Feel your anxiety

    As best you can, detach from the thoughts and welcome the physical sensations of anxiety into your body. Notice where your anxiety is located in your body and what it feels like. Describe it: “I feel a buzzing in my chest.” “I feel a tightness in my throat.” And as best you can, welcome this vibration into your body. All humans get anxious; nothing has gone wrong, and you can handle this.

    When you believe that anxiety shouldn’t be happening, you actually create more anxiety about your anxiety. Welcoming it in reduces that.

    On the plane, I wasn’t at all aware of what was happening in my body. I was stuck in my mind, worrying about whether or not to say something. And thinking that I’d really regret if I didn’t say something and the plane crashed. I was completely detached from my body and fully overwhelmed by the feeling of panic.

    If I’d noticed where the anxiety was in my body, perhaps I’d have made a different decision. Or maybe I wouldn’t have; it’s hard to know…

    But what I know for sure now is, when I welcome the sensations in physically, I feel better afterward. So try this out.

    3. Voice your anxiety.

    Simply saying “I’m feeling anxious” can help you feel calmer. A recent study showed that putting your feelings into words reduces activity in the amygdala, the part of the brain that regulates emotions and stress.

    On the plane, a classmate had been sitting right behind me but moved so she could have her own row. After the plane landed, she wondered, if I had been able to tell her that I was feeling anxious about the wheels, would that have been enough for me to regulate my nervous system? Again, we can’t know for sure, but according to the research, that’s probably true.

    So if you’re feeling anxious, say out loud to yourself or someone else, “I’m feeling anxious.” This will help you observe and detach from the emotion just a little bit so it’ll feel less overwhelming.

    4. Make physical contact.

    If a child was scared or anxious, you’d instinctively hold their hand or pick them up to soothe the fear. And there’s research that hugging and self-soothing touch, like putting a hand on your heart, can lead to lower cortisol levels after a stressful situation.

    If I’d had a loved one to hold my hand or give me a hug, this would have soothed my anxiety to a degree.

    So hug your friend or your dog. And if you’re alone, put a hand on your heart to assure your nervous system that you’re safe.

    —

    After this incident, I had to process the shame around making this mistake. At first I felt completely terrible, like a total nutcase and an out-of-control loser.

    But now I see it differently. I see myself as someone who experienced trauma in her childhood, who was on her healing journey and genuinely doing her best at that time. I’m proud that I stood up and used my voice and did what I thought was right in the moment.

    And also, I regret the negative impact it had on some of the passengers and crew. The surgeon was understandably upset. And others were probably too, even though they didn’t say anything.

    The pilot was super friendly and talked to me after checking out the wheel to reassure me that everything was fine. And one passenger came up to me at the end of the flight and thanked me for keeping an eye out and being brave, even though in this case everything was fine. His stance was that it’s better to be safe than sorry.

    Life is complex. I now fully forgive myself this even though I do see it as a mistake. I know I was doing my best at the time and I’ve learned from it.

    I still get anxious sometimes, but it’s reduced significantly. The more I get to know my body and the different techniques that help complete the stress cycle, the less my anxiety controls my life.

    I’m happy to report I haven’t turned around any airplanes or cruise ships since applying these techniques, so I wholeheartedly recommend you use them to reduce your anxiety too!!

  • 5 Simple Yet Essential Self-Care Tips That Can Change Your Life

    5 Simple Yet Essential Self-Care Tips That Can Change Your Life

    “Never be ashamed to say, ‘I’m worn out. I’ve had enough. I need some time for myself.’ That isn’t being selfish. That isn’t being weak. That’s being human.” ~Topher Kearby

    Years ago, my extended family, who I am very close with, migrated from Vietnam to America as permanent residents. Four separate families had a couple of kids in each family. They are nice, kind, and loving people, and their kids were super cute and respectful.

    My relationship with my extended family has taught me a lot of lessons throughout my life so far, but this was one of the most impactful ones to date.

    Throughout the first few years of their residency here in the USA, they struggled with the language barrier and navigating an unfamiliar setting. As with most people who choose to migrate to another country, it was challenging for them to learn how to adapt to their new normal here in the United States.

    I couldn’t bear seeing them struggle, so I decided to step in to help them through this huge transition they were facing. I took them to most of their doctor’s appointments, brought them to work on time, helped them out with school conferences for their kids, and supported them in the completion of other tasks that they weren’t able to do on their own.

    I didn’t see this as a burden at all. In fact, I was having fun helping them because I love them so much.

    If you’re like me, you will understand this. When I am helping people that I care about, I tend to forget about taking care of myself. Slowly, this began to be the case.      

    The love I have for my family fueled my energy, which made me overlook the importance of caring for myself. Sure enough, after a while of supporting and caring for my family through their transition, I started to feel emotionally depressed and physically drained.

    I couldn’t find an explanation for why I was feeling this way, so I decided to check in with my doctor. My doctor explained that I had nothing to worry about regarding my physical health.

    After determining that I was healthy, I realized that there must have been a deeper explanation for why I was feeling that way. That’s when I knew my exhaustion was coming from overly helping and caring for my family. After all, I was taking on responsibility for everything in their lives from the little things to the important things.

    At this point, there was a little voice inside my head saying that it was time to sit down with myself and re-evaluate how I was spending my time and energy. Deep down I knew that this would be the only way for me to feel healthier and happier.

    For the sake of my well-being, I decided to implement positive change in my life, Once I did, I was amazed at how my physical and emotional well-being began to improve.

    I didn’t want to leave my family hanging, so I made sure that I took the time to show their kids what they needed to know so that they could help their parents and themselves. I knew that they had other family members that were willing to step in when they needed assistance with tasks.

    It took me a while to make this decision because I didn’t want to leave them without ensuring that they would be cared for. Thankfully, their children were confident taking over some of the tasks and helping their parents and their own families with the transitions that they were making.

    Sometimes, setting healthy boundaries with the people you care about also comes with setting a boundary with yourself.

    You cannot control how other people will react to your choices, no matter how badly you would like to be able to. With that said, it will bring you comfort knowing that you are doing what is best for you.

    In my case, I knew I needed to take better care of myself. I also took comfort in knowing that the choices I made for myself wouldn’t bring harm to anyone else. In time, I hope that my family will come to understand; but if they don’t, that’s okay too.

    I will always be wishing the best for them and sending them the brightest blessings in their life, regardless of if it is from a distance or up close.

    It was through this experience that I learned that the best way to care for others is to begin with caring for yourself. This may seem selfish or unnatural at first. However, with time, you will find that you are more capable of adequately caring for others when you are well cared for yourself.

    Once you master the art of self-care, you will find that you have more time and positive energy to put toward caring for those around you. Here are a few tips on where to begin on your journey toward self-care.

    1. Stay in touch with your feelings.

    If you’re honest with yourself about how you feel, you’ll be better able to meet your needs. It can be a challenge to be truthful with yourself and others about your feelings, but if you don’t, you’ll end up burnt out and resentful. This was my first step toward taking care of myself: telling my family I was feeling depleted.

    Ask yourself: How do I feel about how I currently spend my time? Am I honoring my needs and priorities? How do I feel about how much I give in my relationships? Am I overextending myself or giving more than I receive?

    2. Spend time with others.

    You can’t spend all of your time alone and remain emotionally healthy. Part of self-care is surrounding yourself with people who uplift, encourage, and support you.

    The ideal amount of human contact varies greatly from one person to another. No matter how much of a loner you might be, though, spending time with others matters because human connection brings happiness, joy, and belonging.

    When I realized I needed more time for reciprocal relationships, I set out a schedule to hang out with some of my closest friends.

    Call some of your friend or relatives to catch up, and ask them to get together. You’ll feel more connected, and if you open up about what’s going on in your life, you’ll be able to receive support instead of always being the one who gives it.

    3. Spend quality time alone.

    When you spend time alone, you’re able to get in touch with yourself on a deeper level. You get to reflect, introspect, and make a plan for anything that needs to change in your life. This will help you accomplish your goals, and you’ll feel more grounded as a person.

    Again, how much time you need to spend alone is an individual preference. It can be hard to refuse requests or say no to gatherings, but if you find the right balance for you, you can stay connected to other people while keeping up with your personal goals.

    4. Exercise regularly.

    When I decided to prioritize myself, I committed to keeping myself active and in shape. I personally enjoy weight training, pilates, dancing, and taking long walks by the lake. Not only do I feel physically stronger, I have more energy and get a boost of feel-good chemicals every time I exercise.

    Any physical activity is better than nothing, but you’ll feel a lot better if you can devote thirty minutes each day to movement, whether you play a sport, dance, or participate in a group exercise class. Your body is designed to move, so when it’s not using its potential, it creates stagnation.

    5. Manage stress.

    Take frequent breaks throughout the day to relieve tension and restore your energy before tackling your next task. Check in with yourself regularly to look for signs of stress, including physical exhaustion, getting irritated easily, having a lack of focus, and mindlessly eating junk food.

    When you notice your stress level rising, practice deep breathing or utilize any other relaxation methods that work for you.

    I generally like to get a massage, go for a walk, meditate, and journal. I like to write out all the stress on paper and burn it away.

    Another stress relief practice that I often do is chanting. It’s a healing method to help you clear any worries, stress, fears. When I chant for a period of time, my energy always shifts, bringing me back to a more grounded state.

    If you take on other people’s energy, you may want to practice energy cord cutting. This can be as simple as visualizing yourself detaching a cord connecting you to someone who drains you.

    Practicing forgiveness for yourself and others is also a powerful stress-release method. I highly recommend the Ho’opononopo practice; if you’re not familiar with it, you can go on YouTube and look it up.

    —

    The quality of your self-care is a great barometer of your overall well-being, and it can keep you firing on all cylinders. If you’re feeling down and out, give extra attention to your self-care. You deserve the time and attention. A regular self-care practice also demonstrates that you truly recognize your own worth.

  • 5 Ways to Start Valuing Your Time and Making the Most of It

    5 Ways to Start Valuing Your Time and Making the Most of It

    “It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

    Oh, how I loved sleeping when I was a teenager. I would sleep for twelve hours, just as babies do.

    And guess what else?

    Another favorite activity of mine was taking selfies until I finally had a perfect one, editing it, posting it on social media, and waiting for likes. And scrolling through the feed.

    Wow. So unusual nowadays.

    I didn’t care what I was doing with my life. I chose a university degree just for fun and finished it just because I started it. I don’t even like what I chose. I had no goals, no ambitions. I was just drifting through life.

    But then adult life got in the way. Suddenly, I was married and had a child.

    What a turn.

    Now I don’t even have Instagram.

    Do you know why? Because I started valuing my time.

    And I am here to tell you that you need to do it too if you want to live a fulfilling life.

    Why should you value every second of your life?

    When I became a mom, I barely had time to brush my teeth. I didn’t have time to do anything that wasn’t related to my son.

    I started regretting all the time I’d wasted before.

    But let’s be clear: It’s not about productivity. It’s about living your life to the fullest.

    You see, when you value your time, you start valuing your life. You set your priorities straight and start doing things that matter to you. And that’s when life gets really good.

    Although my situation might be different from yours, time is one thing we have in common. And you’ve heard it a million times, but time is our most precious commodity.

    It is non-negotiable. You can’t buy more time, no matter how rich you are. And you can’t save time either. You can only spend it.

    Time waits for no one. So the sooner you start valuing your time, the better.

    Here are a few things that have helped me start valuing my time and life more that might help you too.

    1. Set your priorities straight.

    Oh, priorities. They are so important, yet we often forget about them.

    If you want to start valuing your time, you need to set your priorities straight. Ask yourself what is really important to you and start making time for those things.

    Ask yourself:

    • What do I want to do, achieve, and experience in life?
    • Who and what matter most to me?
    • What makes me happy?
    • Where do I see myself in five years?

    For me, the answer to these questions was simple: I want to value time with my son more. And I want to find a way to balance work and life.

    What I don’t want is to be glued to my phone while my son is next to me, or to watch movies instead of making small steps toward having my own business.

    Self-care is on my list of priorities too. I make sure to have enough time for myself. Even if it’s just ten minutes a day (to have a cup of coffee in silence), it makes all the difference.

    Self-care keeps me sane and happy. And when I am happy, I can give my best to my family.

    2. Realize the importance of limited time.

    We all have limited time on this earth, and we need to make the most of it.

    The idea of limited time gives so much magic to this life. It makes things more precious. And when you start realizing life is precious, time becomes more valuable to you.

    On top of that, it makes you more aware of your mortality. It might sound depressing, but it’s not. It’s actually very liberating. Just think about it: If you knew you’re going to die soon, what would you do differently?

    Do it now so you don’t end up with regrets about how you spent your time.

    I think about death every day. I accept it. And I thank the universe for being mortal.

    We never know when we are going to die, so the best thing we can do is to live each day as if it’s our last.

    3. Notice what your distractions are and eliminate (or at least minimize) them.

    We all have our own distractions. It can be social media, Netflix, video games, or anything else.

    Here is how I deal with my distractions.

    • My main distraction was Instagram. I deleted it.
    • Then, movies. I decided to watch only one movie per week. No TV series (all they did was make me escape my reality).
    • Internet surfing is another one. I decided to use the internet only for work and research. No more browsing without a purpose.
    • I open the app only if I want to relax for twenty minutes and watch something. Otherwise, it’s a huge time waster (I used to open the app and scroll through it for five minutes with no purpose).

    Once I did that, I noticed that sometimes I even got bored. And I love that feeling of not picking up my phone every time I have a free minute. I just enjoy it.

    4. Consciously choose to do one thing despite countless other activities you could be doing.

    You know those moments when you’re about to do something, but then you wonder, “Should I really be doing this? I could be doing something else.”

    This is a common feeling. We often have so many options that it’s hard to choose just one. But simply do that. Choose one activity and stick to it.

    It doesn’t matter if it’s the “right” choice or not. There’s no such thing as “right” when it comes to how you spend your time.

    I recently listened to a podcast by Oliver Burkeman. He said that we don’t want to make choices. We don’t want to decide. We want to let all the options remain available to us. This is also why we love dreaming about the future. Because all the options are open.

    But we need to make a choice. It is so liberating to make a choice. It gives you a sense of control over your life and your time and it keeps you moving forward instead of standing still.

    So, choose one thing and do it. You will feel so much more in focus because you know where you are going.

    For instance, I am writing this article. I could be doing a million other things, but I choose to do this. And it feels great. I am all in. And I am focused because I am not thinking about other things that I could do.

    5. Know that failure is a sign you’re using your time well.

    When we start a project or an activity, we want to do it perfectly. We need to be the best. Otherwise, we think it’s a waste of time.

    In reality, it is life itself. You can’t prevent failure. You will fail. A lot.

    And that’s a good thing. Failure is a sign that you’re trying something new; that you’re pushing your limits, learning, and growing.

    How can we make the most of our failures?

    • First, accept them. Don’t try to bury your failures or pretend they never happened. Acknowledge them and learn from them.
    • Second, put things in perspective. This one opportunity didn’t work out, but it’s not the last you’ll get.
    • Finally, focus on the successes in your failure. Odds are something good came from it, even if you can’t see it just yet.

    Oh, I failed so many times. I lost years of my life in failure. But I am grateful for every single one of them because they made me grow and become better, maybe even wiser.

    My biggest failure is probably my university degree. It’s three years of my life. I was so naive thinking that I can succeed no matter what bachelor’s I choose. And I chose the easiest one.

    Turns out, there is nothing I can do with my bachelor’s degree. It’s useless.

    I could have spent those three years better, but I am not regretting it. Because if I didn’t fail, I wouldn’t be so motivated today to start my own business and to create something that has meaning.

    —

    As I said in the introduction, I was once horrible at valuing my time. But I am glad to say that I have changed. It certainly wasn’t easy. And I am not an expert at this. I still must remind myself to value my time. To cherish every moment.

    But my alarm doesn’t annoy me when it wakes me up in the morning anymore. It’s a reminder that I get to wake up and enjoy my time on this earth.

    I am grateful to still be alive.

    The time that you took reading this article is valuable. I hope it will make you value your time even more.

    Remember that time waits for no one.

    Remember that it’s non-negotiable.

    Remember that you can’t save it.

    You can only spend it wisely.

  • Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    “Allow yourself to grow and change. Your future self is waiting.” -Unknown

    Not to be dramatic, but I really mean it when I say that solitude changed my life. I am an extrovert who loves humans, socializing, and learning from people and experiences. I’ve always enjoyed being around others, and don’t get me wrong, I still thrive this way. But when I got Covid in 2021, life completely changed, and it’s not the only way I thrive now.

    Before Covid, I’d been living my life in a way that wasn’t serving me. I was partying a lot, not eating well, and living in chaos, with very little rest. I constantly had my schedule booked, leaving no time for self-care. I felt like I was living life for others, ignoring what I needed.

    I made mistakes, like blowing off my priorities because I was in a terrible headspace, and I continued living an unhealthy lifestyle until I finally had a talk with myself and realized this wasn’t right for me (then Covid came along, and sh*t got serious).

    I didn’t immediately enjoy quarantining and being stuck at home, away from friends and family, but before I got sick, I knew change was coming. And though I felt a lot of resistance, I also felt that a new version of myself was on the way.

    While I’m usually not one to fight change, there was so much going on at once, and it was a lot. I also learned that I was one of the people who suffered from panic attacks and anxiety as a side effect of Covid. The aftermath was worse than having the virus itself.

    This lasted almost a year. I felt so bad for myself; I couldn’t believe that this is what life had come to for me. I was even losing my hair. Some days I’d wonder if this dark tunnel would ever come to an end and show me light. Things felt very heavy, but I also had some of the most beautiful things going on at the same time, like living in the city with my now fiancé, so it was all very confusing.

    I began to lose sleep, which was unusual for me. My inner world felt like chaos. There were lots of tears and weekly therapy sessions (which also changed my life). Therapy and journaling became my safe spaces to release and understand myself.

    Throughout the year of that inner chaos, what did I learn? Surrender. I was trying to maintain full control of my life and keeping busy while actively avoiding working through suppressed emotions from times when younger Naila would over-extend for others, and completely forget to take care of herself. I didn’t want to listen because I was afraid. And that’s human nature, to fear the unknown.

    So, here’s a reminder that the Universe forces you to slow down and redirect when you’re not listening. This also means it may hurt more since we didn’t consciously welcome the change.

    Over time, I have gone through so many phases and such inner growth. I began working with my wonderful therapist and quit a job that was not working out for me as expected (which hurt). I’ve lost people and my relationships changed, thankfully most of them for the better.

    As soon as I let go of control and put in the hard work, things got better, and I saw results—even if they were just small victories. I was starting to see that light I’d been waiting for. My body felt lighter as I began to release dead weight from my body and I began to feel like myself again, but this time, better than ever.

    I chose watering myself over destructive behaviors. Instead of focusing on the anxiety attacks and trying to force myself back to sleep at night, I meditated. I chose solitude over socializing. This was the peak of my growth. 

    Sometimes, we get lost in the chaos of this busy world. We get sucked into conversations and company we don’t actually enjoy. Society tells us to be productive 24/7. Our worth is based off money, accomplishments, and what social media sees. Conversations are about what we are instead of who we are.

    Long before this journey, I was used to overbooking my schedule, always very busy. I would work two jobs, scheduling anything I could in between and going to school at the same time. I enjoyed it then.

    Solitude and self-reflection taught me what I truly care about: genuine connections, giving and receiving love, nurturing myself just as I do others, and living, not just surviving.

    My higher self told me that the world’s expectations are not my own, and that it’s okay to choose a different path than I once wanted (or society told me I wanted). As I’ve learned in therapy, I am my own worst critic, so my new path is all about letting life unfold naturally, without constantly criticizing myself for where I thought I’d be in life, especially in my career.

    I began to reflect on my life, my inner child, and current self. Most importantly, I began to heal from things I’d stored away from childhood pains and days long ago during an abusive relationship. I let go of self-sabotaging behaviors and decided to finally listen and release, then the inner turmoil started to calm.

    Because I was spending much more time alone, I learned a lot about myself. Solitude helps us build trust with ourselves and teaches us about our true desires. We begin to tolerate less and prioritize differently. I value very different things now than I once did. I’m getting to know my true self, and that’s something no one can teach you or prepare you for. 

    I also want to emphasize that solitude is possible while you’re in a healthy relationship.

    Throughout my dark days, I had my now-fiancé supporting me through it all while letting me heal and grow. Him supporting my solitude made me that much more successful on my journey. When someone around you offers love, respect, and support, it makes it easier. Their company becomes a bonus and not a burden. Previous Naila didn’t think this was possible, and I’m grateful things panned out differently.

    Overall, I have learned that the “dark” times were actually just lessons and periods that catapulted my growth and healing. The tough times are temporary, and there is strength and clarity in solitude. As of today, I cherish my solitude; it’s a vital part of my being. I also learned that there is light at the end of the dark tunnel. Yes, even when it’s long and scary.

    In this new chapter of my life, rest is high on my priority list, not overworking and overbooking. I am much pickier about who/what I surround myself with, much more productive, and still growing and ever-changing.

    My life is much more peaceful and calm, and my boundary-setting skills are much stronger. These are lessons I couldn’t learn as an unbalanced extrovert. I’m a better version of myself now.

    So, if you’re an extrovert who forgets to prioritize yourself, someone who’s going through a dark tunnel, or someone who avoids change, this post is for you. Instead of being afraid of solitude and change, learn to accept them and watch how they transform your life for the better.

    As my dad once told me, change is the only constant in life, so get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

    I believe in you. ♥

  • When Positive Messages Feel Bad: Why I’m Changing How I Use Social Media

    When Positive Messages Feel Bad: Why I’m Changing How I Use Social Media

    “How wonderful that we have met with a paradox. Now we have some hope of making progress.” ~Niels Bohr

    Social media is indeed a paradox in that it has the power to be both good and evil simultaneously. Ironically, one of the most harmful things about social media is the abundance of “positive” messages.

    You’re probably wondering how something that creates so much comparison, self-doubt, and anxiety can be “too positive.” What I mean is that social media messaging is starting to put a lot of pressure on us to be grateful and optimistic about our life no matter what we’re going through—also known as “toxic positivity.” This seems to especially be applied to mothers.

    Optimism and happiness are of course wonderful when they’re authentic for you. However, if you try to pass over your uncomfortable emotions or ignore what you’re going through, it’s similar to spiritual bypassing, where you try to skip over being a human and struggling through life’s challenging times.

    What feels like toxic positivity to one person can feel completely empowering to another. It depends on where you’re at in this moment and how a specific message lands with you.

    There does seem to be an overall trend, however, of emphasizing how grateful and fulfilled we should be without the counter-messaging that sometimes life just sucks.

    One of the hardest things about social media is staying in tune with ourselves. We go to our phone for comfort, distraction, and entertainment. Once we arrive, our brain gets hijacked by the content, and we have to buckle up for whatever ride the algorithm sends us on. Even with the best intentions going in, we can get turned around by one video or post and find ourselves feeling like we aren’t measuring up.

    When I first became I mother I was obsessed with the idea of gentle parenting. I consumed everything I could find on this parenting style. I gave it my best go, but every day I felt like a complete and worthless failure.

    I was bombarding myself with an idealized version of this parenting style that social media made look so easy. After reading any social post, I felt like I was an idiot for sucking at it.

    How hard is it to just speak in a calm voice and not lose your patience with your one-year-old? He’s literally an innocent baby! One that hits the dog, bites you while breastfeeding, or turns and runs into the street with a mischievous smirk on his face.

    In my frustration I would go straight to social media to flagellate myself with messaging that had a toxic effect on me. I pivoted against my husband who had a more relaxed attitude toward parenting and put more pressure on myself to be a “perfect” mom. This created tension in my marriage and physical and emotional burnout for me.

    Don’t get me wrong here’; I don’t think there is anything inherently wrong with social media. The way it connects us with each other is truly wonderful. The current messaging to parents and mothers sounds so beautiful at first glance.

    “Your babies grow up fast, so you should savor each moment.”

    “Motherhood is the most challenging job, but so worthwhile.”

    “Your house is a disaster, but you shouldn’t care about that when you have young children.”

    My issue is that we are using social media as a weapon to inflict self-harm. Instead of taking these messages in the way they are intended—to inspire us—we criticize and judge ourselves against them. 

    We can start to feel bad that we actually care if our house is a giant mess or that we don’t enjoy every moment.

    Or we might feel guilty for not feeling grateful. Or bad about feeling sad. Or frustrated because we can’t just “choose to be happy” when we’re feeling down.

    My solution is not to delete all your social media apps (but go for it if that sounds amazing to you). What I recommend is to start actually noticing how each reel, TikTok, or post feels in your body. It doesn’t matter that it has beautiful music, photos, or a positive message.

    If your brain is twisting that message to be used against you, it is not yours to absorb.

    It is easier to spot the types of messages that we instantly don’t agree with. Any time I see a perfectly put-together mom with three kids in matching, neutral-toned outfits, I mentally reject it. It doesn’t matter what the content is; this is always a pass for me. What messaging bothers you or feels toxic is completely personal.

    Our brain gets conflicted when something seems really positive, but doesn’t feel good to us. Since our brain doesn’t like being confused, we unknowingly spend mental energy trying to make sense of the discordance that we feel. Becoming aware of your emotional reactions helps you quickly accept or reject the messaging coming at you, so you aren’t as negatively affected by it.

    We don’t need to villainize the content creators here either. I don’t think anyone (hopefully) is going out there intentionally using pretty messaging to turn us against ourselves. So much of the messaging we see is meant to be inspiring and helpful.

    A lot of times I feel connected and motivated by the positivity I encounter on social media.  Especially content that is less perfected and less filtered.

    When you come across a “positive” message that makes you feel critical of yourself, I suggest you mentally “pass” on it and move on. 

    I like to compare social media messaging to a food sensitivity. Tomatoes are not inherently bad, but if your body doesn’t react well to them, then they aren’t for you right now. You may heal or grow out of some particular food sensitivities and be fine with them in the future.

    Giving yourself the power to pass on or to accept every message that comes your way gives you complete control over your experience on social media, regardless of what you scroll through.

    You get to decide what “positive” things feel good to absorb and what “positive” things aren’t for you right now. My wish for each of you reading this is that you update your relationship with social media to be one that fully empowers and supports you.

  • How I Lighten My Mood by Making a Bargain with the Universe

    How I Lighten My Mood by Making a Bargain with the Universe

    “Pain is what the world does to you; suffering is what you do yourself.” ~Gautama Buddha

    I don’t expect things to be a steady state of bliss.

    In fact, I agree with the Buddha that suffering is pretty much part of the human condition. Our expectations just get in the way of our experiences. I’m talking about your garden-variety suffering here, not the kind that comes with traumatic events that take you out at the knees or devastating clinical depression.

    I see the now-and-then emergence of lethargy or melancholy as part of the whole emotional spectrum. And, like stepping in water in your stocking feet, bound to happen from time to time for most of us. Plus, for me anyway, I think recognizing the difficult days enables me to better savor the wonderful and even the tremendously ordinary ones.

    Still, knowing that the spinning wheel is going to land on grey sometimes does not mean those days aren’t tough. For me, that greyness means my mood, my gait, even my ability to recognize the full bounty that is mine just feels heavier and more arduous. Sort of like moving through muck that slows your pace and clings to your boots.

    Just as I think those emotions are due to sometimes arrive, I also know they will leave—I just want to accelerate that departure. And I’ve found a way that works for me. I make a deal with the Universe.

    I speak this pact out loud—“I’ll try if you try.”

    I commit to trying to pull my boot out the mud by first focusing on my senses.

    Under the header of controlling what I can control, I might actively focus on taking in the smell of fresh coffee—holding the cup in my hands, without expectation, and just experiencing it. The rich smell, the playful bubbles, the warm solace held in a favorite mug. I try to let that singular moment envelope me, seeking nothing specific in return.

    Or I might stand at a window until I can feel the sun’s warmth on my face. I will then imagine my breath carrying that warmth down my neck to my collar bones, down to my fingers and into my belly. I’m not looking to be instantly “fixed,” just to prime the pump to receive and interpret information differently by bringing my senses and my nervous system into the equation.

    The Yoga Sutras, a text from perhaps as early as 500 BCE that codified yogic theory and practice (yoga with  “big Y,” way more than just the poses) reinforce the role of the nervous system in expanded consciousness. We take what we experience to be the truth, but as the theory goes, if you change what you feel/believe you experience, your conception of the truth changes.

    It’s like the ancient parable of the blind men and the elephant—you build your definitions of what is based on what you experience. My rationale proceeds then that if I alter my perceived inputs, the narrative that my nervous system spits out can also be altered.

    So that’s my part of the bargain—to widen the sense aperture and find a better experience. For the Universe’s part, I imagine it sending little gifts in return for my efforts—a great parking spot, the wave and smile of a colleague down the hall, a new local tour date for a favorite band.

    I don’t actually think the Universe is moving cars or colleagues or tour schedules to accommodate me. It’s simply me noticing. That doesn’t keep me from imagining a sort of an equal and opposite reaction in play that generates goodness in response to my attempts to notice goodness.

    I think of this noticing as a reframing of the “Toyota principle.” Long ago when my husband and I got a real car, we got a Toyota. Once we had the Toyota, we suddenly noticed all the other Toyotas on the road and wondered where they’d come from. They hadn’t suddenly flooded the market. It was more about moving the metaphorical antenna to recalibrate the signal—ah, I see things now.

    Actively being open to the light and marveling at its forms still doesn’t serve up a twenty-minute fix. It does remind me of all the good standing in wait for me and reinforces that “this too shall pass.” In fact, someone wise once told me “If you want to change something, you’ve got to change something.” These are my somethings.

    And so I commit to engaging my senses and being open to the beauty and love in my cup (even if my experience meter feels set to “low”). I believe that if I can do my part, I’ll again come into alignment faster with a Universe that offers no promises, but provides plenty of opportunity and wonder.