Tiny Buddha

Tag: Mindfulness

  • How to Be a Lot Happier: A Simple Solution

    How to Be a Lot Happier: A Simple Solution

    “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” ~Leonardo da Vinci

    There’s a funny thing with us humans.

    We spend our lives trying desperately to find happiness, and yet we don’t even know what it is. We can’t explain, describe, or define it. We just know that we want it because it’ll make everything peachy. Time and time again, though, studies have shown that our never-ending quest for happiness is quite often the very thing that makes us miserable.

    Trying to find happiness is an exercise in futility. This is a truth I did not easily come to realize. It took a succession of major depressive episodes, the sudden death of my father, a cross-country move, a broken heart, and countless hours reading airy-fairy, self-help nonsense for me to understand that instead of trying to find happiness, I should consciously take steps that let happiness find me.

    Suffice it to say, you will no longer find me spinning my wheels, dejectedly searching for answers and chasing the abstract. You will no longer find me on a never-ending quest for happiness.

    But given my endless fascination with the subject, my work as a coach, and my ever-present desire for more street cred, I recently found myself immersed in a year-long Psychology of Happiness certification program created by best-selling author and former Harvard professor Dr. Tal Ben-Shahar.

    During the program, we were asked:

    What was one of the happiest periods of your life?
    What did you do during that period that made it so good?
    How can you generate more happiness in your life?

    I had a profoundly difficult time answering these questions, particularly the first two. But the more I scanned through my mental scrapbook, the more I kept thinking about the months between ninth and tenth grade—my last romp as a camper at the sleepaway camp I’d been going to for six consecutive summers.

    It wasn’t so much what I did—or what we­ did—that made it so good. I think, perhaps, it was what we didn’t do.

    There were no smartphones. So, there were no screens to stare at, no calls to make, no messages to check, no constant dinging notifications.

    There was no social media. There were no Facebook rants, no Twitter trolls, no outlandishly phony Instagram influencers to drum up our insecurities.

    We weren’t constantly comparing ourselves to others while looking at the carefully curated highlight reels from their lives.

    No, we were making our own highlight reels in the middle of nowhere—or, more accurately, in the middle of northern Wisconsin. We hadn’t the slightest idea what anyone else was doing, and we didn’t care.

    There were no dating apps, no heads to swipe on for hours at a time. There was no ghosting, no haunting, no orbiting, no zombieing, no submarining, no breadcrumbing, no roaching. These hyper-specific subtypes of appalling human behavior simply didn’t exist.

    And despite our raging hormones, there was no palpable desperation. You either “hooked up” with someone the night before or you didn’t. Then, you moved on with your life.

    Nobody gave a damn who was president, either. We just knew it was some old, white guy just like it was the year before, and the year before that, and the year before that. He sat in his office, and signed some papers, and maybe spoke to the country every few months and that was it.

    There was nobody on the far left trying to ruin the life of anyone who’s ever made a mildly offensive quip. There was nobody on the far right trying to accelerate conflict and build some kind of white ethnostate. There were no conspiracy theorists trying to convince the world that celebrities run pedophile rings out of pizza parlors or that Jewish folks crisscross the country to start wildfires with space lasers.

    Oh, but Tony, you might be saying to yourself. There were definitely people like that back then! And you get no argument from me.

    But we never heard from them. They didn’t have public platforms. There were no 24/7/365 news channels, there were no online news magazines, and there was no YouTube; so, they just kind of kept their crazy crap to themselves.

    It’s no wonder that one of the happiest periods of my life was the summer of 1997, in the middle of nowhere in northern Wisconsin. We spent all of our time in nature, laughing and singing and bonding and playing frisbee.

    One could theorize that we were happier purely because we were kids, but I’m not so sure. From what I can tell, kids today are lost, distracted, and isolated. They spend most of their time indoors, glued to their devices. They are overstimulated, oversensitive, and overprotected. They are riddled with anxiety and depression as they deal with the psychological trappings of growing up in a technological world.

    Twenty-five years ago, during the summer of 1997, life was just…simpler.

    That’s what made it so good.

    And I don’t think that life in general will ever be that simple again.

    But every time I simplify my own life, even just a little bit, I’m a little bit happier.

    Every time I de-clutter, I’m a little bit happier.

    Every time I delete a dating app, I’m a little bit happier.

    Every time I forgo watching the news or sign off social media, I’m a little bit happier.

    Every time I turn my phone on Do Not Disturb, I’m a little bit happier.

    Every time I have a real conversation in real life with a real person I really care about, I’m a little bit happier.

    Every time I go outside and walk around and do nothing but look at the sky, and the trees, and the architecture, I’m a little bit happier.

    Every time I sit in silence and meditate and let my thoughts pass by like the weather, I’m a little bit happier.

    So, how can you generate more happiness in your life?

    Well, I don’t have a whole lot of street cred. But if I had to take a stab at it: Stop doing the things that cause you unhappiness. Simplify, simplify, simplify. And maybe find a summer camp for adults.

  • How to Wake Up Smiling: 5 Daily Habits That Made Me a More Positive Person

    How to Wake Up Smiling: 5 Daily Habits That Made Me a More Positive Person

    “You create your future based on your energy in the present.” ~Unknown

    I’m usually a pretty happy person, but about a year ago—perhaps due to a lack of social connections and laughter—I experienced a few dark months. During those months, I spent most of my waking hours (and probably nights as well) consumed with negative thoughts.

    I woke up feeling angry in the morning, continued having negative thoughts most of the day, and went to bed in that same state of mind.

    Luckily, I didn’t have many opportunities to spread my negativity to others because we were in confinement.

    On one of those moody mornings, I played a video of a spiritual teacher that a friend had recommended listening to while getting ready for the day.

    Halfway through the video, he said, “Humanity is ascending into more loving and conscious states of being. You are becoming more of who you truly are, which is love.”

    At that moment, I caught my eyes in the mirror and stared at my unhappy face.

    “I’m not ascending. I’m descending further and further into the ‘hell’ in my own mind.”

    My negativity was eating me alive, but, strangely, it was so addictive.

    Since it had been escalating for some time (a few months by then) and had acquired a good bit of momentum, I really didn’t know if I’d be able to shift all that negativity into a more positive state of being. I knew that the longer I waited, though, the harder it would be.

    Still looking at my face in the mirror, I noticed the corners of my mouth pointing slightly downward.

    “If I continue like that, I’m going to get grumpy face wrinkles.”

    I made my bed and then went to the kitchen. As the coffee was brewing, I grabbed my laptop and Googled “how to be a more positive person,” and I scribbled down a few ideas that resonated with me.

    Later that day, after mixing and matching advice from different articles, I created what I called my “emotional hygiene routine.”

    It’s a series of simple habits that I committed to doing most days of the week for an entire month (and still continue to do today on most days) and that, over that month, took me out of my depressive state and made me wake up smiling in the morning again.

    I’d like to share them with you.

    1. Fall asleep in the “vortex.”

    One idea I came across in my research on being more positive came from Abraham Hicks:

    “If you go to sleep in the vortex, you wake up in the vortex. If you go to sleep not in the vortex, you wake up not in the vortex.”

    Being in the “vortex” refers to a state of pure positive energy. The idea in that quote is pretty straightforward: go to bed thinking positive thoughts and feeling happy feelings, and you’re more likely to wake up thinking and feeling positive in the morning.

    I knew this had to be true. I knew it because when I went to bed thinking angry thoughts, I usually dreamed that I was unhappy and then woke up grumpy (and exhausted) in the morning.

    So, I decided to try something. As I closed my eyes to sleep at night, I scanned the day from the moment I woke up until the present moment when I was lying in bed, and I tried to recall all the positive things (even tiny things) that had happened that day.

    I could have thought about the delicious mocha latte that I drank that morning, the fact there wasn’t snow on the ground and that I was able to run outside in the afternoon, or a nice comment someone left on one of my videos.

    I spent a few seconds remembering a happy moment before moving on to the next one. After scanning the entire day, I would do it again, trying to find even more subtle positive things, and I did this until I fell asleep.

    This exercise is probably the number one thing that helped me (and still continues to help me) wake up happier in the morning.

    2. Have something to look forward to on the following day.

    Something else that has helped me wake up happier is having something to look forward to every day, even if I have a busy day ahead and have minimal free time available.

    Still to this day, every evening, I schedule at least one activity that brings me joy for the following day. It can be going for a walk with a friend, baking cookies, or watching the sunset. It can also be as simple as wearing my favorite outfit.

    Scheduling one activity that brings me joy for the following day gives my mind something fun to anticipate and puts me in a good mood in the evening.

    And again, how the day ends is a good indicator of how the following day begins.

    3. Absorb uplifting ideas in the evening.

    We all know that what we feed our minds affects our mood. I don’t have a TV and don’t follow the news, but my Facebook feed is often enough to get me irritated. So, I decided to stop scrolling mindlessly on Facebook (or at least do so less often) and consume positive-only content instead.

    For the past few months, first thing in the morning and before going to bed, I’ve been reading a few pages of an inspiring book—usually something spiritual. I just finished reading the entire Earth Life book series by Sanaya Roman, and right now, I’m reading Wishes Fulfilled by Wayne Dyer.

    Reading those kinds of books brings me peace. I can notice a significant difference in my mood and stress level if I just take even fifteen minutes to consume uplifting content in the morning and evening.

    (If you have any book recommendations, you can share them in the comments.)

    4. Make a gratitude list—with a twist.

    After reading in the morning, I write down three to five things I’m grateful for—and why I appreciate each thing.

    I used to write gratitude lists of fifteen-plus items and do it very quickly—almost mindlessly—just to “get it done.” It made the practice sort of mechanical and not very effective.

    I’ve found that writing fewer items on my list and taking the time to dive into the reasons each thing makes me happy intensifies the feelings of gratitude and makes the exercise more profound. I try to do this daily, although I do forget sometimes. When I forget several days in a row, I can feel the difference in my general mood.

    Gratitude is perhaps the lowest-hanging fruit for cultivating a more positive attitude.

    5. Choose your state of being as you open your eyes.

    The last thing that has helped me is a piece of advice from Dr. Daniel Amen, one of the leading brain health experts. In an interview on The School of Greatness Podcast, he talked about the importance of setting a positive intention from the very start of the day to cultivate what he calls “a positivity bias.”

    An affirmation he uses himself and recommends using is: “Today is going to be a great day.”

    When we tell ourselves this in the morning, our unconscious mind then looks for things that are going right to prove that this is true. This isn’t toxic positivity—ignoring or denying the negative. It’s training our brains to see what’s positive instead of focusing on the negative by default.

    I’ve taken the habit of saying this affirmation (or a similar one) just after waking up and before opening my eyes in the morning. It’s a bit like choosing and declaring from the very start of the day what attitude you’ll adopt that day. It’s easy to do, and it sets the tone for the day.

    In the beginning, I didn’t always remember to declare my intention until later in the morning, but it didn’t take long before it became automatic. Now, just remembering to think about my intention (and then mentally saying it) makes me smile as I wake up.

    . . .

    Our lives don’t need to be perfect to wake up smiling in the morning; they just require a conscious effort to develop a positive attitude, which is what the five habits in this article have helped me accomplish.

    I hope they serve you well, too, if you choose to implement them.

  • How I Healed from Childhood Trauma and Stopped Sabotaging My Happiness

    How I Healed from Childhood Trauma and Stopped Sabotaging My Happiness

    “We can all make powerful choices. We can all take back control by not blaming chance, fate, or anyone else for our outcome. It’s within our ability to cause everything to change. Rather than letting past hurtful experiences sap our energy and sabotage our success, we can use them to fuel positive, constructive change.” ~Darren Hardy

    I parked my car and began to walk toward the mall while covering my puffy eyes with black sunglasses. I was fresh out of a session with my therapist, where I had hit a breaking point. We both came to the conclusion that I use self-punishment as an approach to almost all of life.

    As I was crossing the parking lot, all I could think of was: “How could I not see it? How could I be so oblivious to my inner dialogue and the actions I take to punish myself? Am I a hidden masochist without any sense of awareness? I should do better than this!”

    Considering that I used self-sabotage as one of my survival behaviors, coming down on myself for not doing better wasn’t the healthiest next step I could take. This time, I was able to recognize it and had one of the biggest epiphanies about how my trauma impacts my life. It was scary and liberating at the same time.

    When we grow up believing that we don’t deserve a lot, or at least not a lot of good stuff, we will subconsciously sabotage anything that creates a vision of a brighter future. Since the subconscious is programmed to validate any limiting beliefs we hold about ourselves, without awareness, our self-sabotaging behavior thrives.

    For the longest time, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. The logical part of my brain understood what was best for me. However, I still chose the self-destructive road of drama, self-judgment, complaining, victimization, and never walking my talk. 

    For example, to walk away from a marriage that mentally drained me would be a healthy thing to do. However, I stayed in a toxic partnership for as long as I could bear until I got so numb that I couldn’t feel anything. Since self-love was a concept I wasn’t familiar with, I found my significance in being disrespected, controlled, and emotionally abused.

    My logic told me to pack my stuff up and run as far as I could, but my survival mode kept me in. Although I was highly uncomfortable and most of the time in pain, at least I was familiar with the discomfort. I knew this place of constant self-sabotage and self-hatred.

    To the outside world, it didn’t make sense. To the left hemisphere of my brain, it didn’t make sense either. But to my trauma wiring, it felt like home. It was all that I knew existed and was available to me.

    When we experience domestic violence, whether as a direct victim or as a witness, our subconscious mind adopts self-destructive beliefs about ourselves and the world. Feelings of unworthiness and self-punishment paralyze us, and therefore keep everything the same.

    Although I kept tolerating situations I didn’t like far more than I felt comfortable admitting, I couldn’t let one question go: “Why do so many of us want to change, but no matter what we do, always end up in the same place with the same drama and same people? Why isn’t logic enough, and what defines true transformation?”

    I set out on a mission and began researching everything about domestic violence and its impact on children. I knew that my childhood wasn’t the best foundation for a happy and healthy life, but this time I decided to go deeper and get to the root of the problem.

    I learned that seeing my mum covered in bruises created feelings of fear, that struggling with her alcohol abuse brought feelings of unworthiness, and that the rough side of my father with his overly disciplined attitude, that lacked empathy, made me believe I wasn’t enough to be loved by him.

    As children, we interpret these experiences differently than adults. For the most part, an adult can step back and reevaluate whether this behavior is about them or the other person. Unfortunately, children don’t have this ability since their brains aren’t fully developed to understand it. Instead, they internalize these experiences and begin to believe that they are unlovable, not enough, and never safe, and they start to hustle for love.

    Since I grew up with these beliefs and didn’t address them for most of my life, I subconsciously sabotaged things I wanted because I didn’t believe I deserved them.

    On the outside, I wanted to build my business and position myself as a coach, while on the inside, I procrastinated because I highly doubted that I could ever make it. Or I would seek toxic relationships full of drama and toxicity. Since I didn’t believe that I was good enough for anything healthy and loving, I would stick around to validate my limiting beliefs of unworthiness. Self-sabotage and self-punishment were my way of life.

    After I began to understand the importance of our brain’s wiring in everything we do and how traumatic experiences define our lives if we let them, I knew that only thinking and understanding wouldn’t cut it. I would need to take serious action if I wanted to stop the self-sabotage and significantly transform my life.

    If you grew up in a household with domestic violence, you’ve experienced trauma of some sort that impacts the healthy development of your brain. You may find yourself in a constant battle between knowing what is good for you and doing the complete opposite.

    Although the trauma’s impact on our well-being is inevitable, so is the healing that takes place if we commit to it and work through it. Here’s how I did just that.

    1. Combining meditation and science to rewire my brain

    I was familiar with the work of Dr. Joe Dispenza for a while. After I read one of his first books, You Are The Placebo, I started to understand the power and importance of rewiring my brain.

    I learned that when we meditate, we lower our brain waves and become present. Once our mind is relaxed, almost half asleep, we can use visualization to bring up emotions such as love or compassion, which promotes healing. Or, we can visualize our desired goals while feeling the excitement and confidence that comes from achieving them.

    Since meditation allows us to go deeper and access the mind on a subconscious level, over time we can change or create new neuropathways, form new habits, and transform our belief system.

    Many scientific studies have shown how meditation improves sleep, reduces stress, and allows us to self-regulate, which is especially useful when working through trauma.

    I started practicing Joe Dispenza’s meditations and set a goal: Every day for the next thirty days, I must do a forty-minute meditation. No excuses, no procrastination. The game was on, and I knew that I had to commit fully to this process.

    It’s been eight months since I started, and I haven’t stopped my meditations since. Occasionally, I skip a day or two, but then I remind myself of the mission I am on and how important it is to stay committed to healing. It’s not a secret that self-discipline is the highest form of self-love.

    2. Getting a therapist

    To understand why I use self-sabotage, I decided to get a therapist. I needed to address my past and use self-awareness as a stepping stone to change.

    From the beginning, we focused on addressing the sexual assault I experienced. The biggest highlight of my therapy was understanding that I subconsciously punish myself and live in deep states of guilt and shame. For the first time, I started learning about my self-destructive tendencies and how to stop them.

    My favorite part of therapy was learning self-soothing techniques. One that I use regularly is wrapping myself into a blanket while drinking peppermint tea and breathing deeply.

    Many of us who have experienced domestic violence or other forms of trauma and abuse don’t know what love or compassion is. Since we hustled for survival and discounted ourselves as worthless and not enough, self-soothing is a foreign concept to us. Although you may find it weird and uncomfortable at first, it will gradually change how you see and take care of yourself.

    3. Practicing self-awareness and challenging myself

    A few months ago, I decided to take a three-day intense self-development course that many of my friends were raving about. I didn’t expect any significant transformation until the second day of the workshop, when everything started to shift.

    I became aware of stories I have created about my parents, who I am as a person, how I see myself, and how I live in a deep place of victimization and inauthenticity.

    Although I grew up with domestic violence, so did my mother and father. It was time to break the generational curse and take full ownership of my triggers, insecurities, desperation, and toxic tendencies that resulted from the abuse. I couldn’t play the victim card anymore since the only person I was playing was myself.

    4. Addressing my shadows

    Befriending parts of my personality that I despised was probably the biggest challenge, and frankly, it’s still in the making. However, I found the courage to look at my self-sabotaging behaviors—how I dislike disrespect and abuse but willingly go for more, and how I manipulate people or fear connections. That’s when I began to defeat the monster of self-sabotage and recognized the opportunity of healing.

    We are so eager to find the light that we forget about the dark side of ourselves that often holds us back. We want to look away and forget about everything traumatic that happened to us since our resilience to face the truth may be weakened at first. However, learning to accept those shameful and hurtful experiences and love who we became as a result of a trauma or abuse provides us an opportunity to grow into the warrior we never thought we could become.

    —

    After two years of intense healing and personal growth, I concluded that the only thing that can save us and truly heal us is to learn how to love ourselves, not in spite of what we’ve been through or who we are but because of it.

    Today I understand that the resilience I had as a child who faced horrific or traumatic experiences is the same resilience that’s available to me now to help me heal and thrive in life. I am learning every day what it means to live from the inside out and how the power and strength I often looked for on the outside has been within me all along.

  • How to Get Comfortable Being Alone and Get the Most Out of Solitude

    How to Get Comfortable Being Alone and Get the Most Out of Solitude

    “The act of sitting down is an act of revolution. By sitting down, you stop that state of being: losing yourself, not being yourself. And when you sit down, you connect to yourself. And you don’t need an iPhone or a computer to do that. You just need to sit down mindfully and breathe in mindfully.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    The day my ex-wife moved out was also the day when our dog moved out and when I was laid off from my bankrupt ex-company. It felt like everything around me had suddenly died. Many of our common friends and loved ones distanced themselves from me, and I felt abandoned.

    As I took my first few steps through the rubble, I felt the full force of this new solitude that was now forced upon me. And it wasn’t going anywhere soon.

    I immediately lost my appetite and my desire to cook. I started taking irresponsibly long hot showers and baths till my skin burned. I decluttered. I threw away pictures and memorabilia, love notes and cutlery, teabags and cushion covers. I stopped vacuuming.

    But I continued running. I started reading. I read anything that looked like it held a secret to end my suffering.

    I lost interest in my job. I’d wake up every morning with dread, sometimes not sleeping entire nights.

    I kept running. I got faster and stronger. I also got injured and had to stop. The darkness stayed even as the days started to get longer. While I lived abroad, the second wave of covid had just hit back home. One of my best friends from childhood died. Also a cousin. A friend lost his father and never saw the body. My dad got very sick and almost died. I sank further.

    But I kept meditating in solitude. Every time the void of existence hit me with boredom, anxiety, and restlessness, something deep within forced me to continue sitting through it. It started feeling familiar. And I slowly started to come back to life. My sense of taste returned. I started cooking again. I started having friends over.

    Still, some days I would collapse on the floor and cry till I got thirsty. Then I’d hydrate and go back to my laptop to run the next zoom meeting, smiling through it.

    I realized what a shell of a person I was now that my ex-wife had left me. At the same time, I continued to befriend the solitude and get comfortable with my aching heart—to sit with it, have a conversation with it, and see what it had to say and what it had learned.

    I was starting to get to know myself from a brand new perspective. It was almost like getting to know this new person who had been living in the basement all these years and I had no idea! And this person sure was interesting!

    The solitude soaked in all my tears so I could laugh again with people. It became my duvet in the winters, my picnic blanket in the summer. The solitude and I would often do karaoke at 7:00 on a Sunday morning till the neighbors started complaining. We went on bike trips together, dipped in cold lakes, went to eat at buffets, and sat through boring dates.

    It became my best friend when there was no one around. It taught me to write, to read, to think, to philosophize, to know what’s good for me, to love everyone unconditionally, and to be kind.

    It showed me things as they truly are and caught me when I was being judgmental. It took away my anger and my desperation. It carried my dreams and filled me with hope.

    Solitude has the power to teach us about ourselves. It is the gym where we must go to train.

    A century ago, people would look forward to solitary periods of relaxation on their porch after a long day of work. But today, we devote most of our conscious time to the pursuit of feeling connected with other people, either offline or online. A simple notification instantly pulls us away from the present moment. We are constantly everywhere but here and now. But our true self lives in the here and now, though we seem to spend less and less time with it.

    In the raw moments of loneliness that succeed a breakup or a bereavement, when we have nowhere to run, we encounter our true self. Like I did. And it was scary. It felt like sitting in the corner of a dungeon with a chain locked around my ankle as a stranger towered over me. I wanted to run away, but there was nowhere good enough to run to. I went scuba diving in the tropics, but my broken, ghost-of-a-self found me under water too.

    The key to cultivating fearlessness in these moments is getting to know yourself through solitude. It means deliberately taking time out to sit alone so you feel comfortable with yourself, connected to yourself, and at peace with yourself.

    To practice solitude, try this.

    1. Think of your favorite meditative activity.

    Ideally, it should involve interaction with physical objects, not digital ones. And definitely not a phone or something with a screen. It should be mundane and not involve rational thinking. This provides the ideal setting for your true self to emerge. An example is doing the dishes, focusing on your breath, or just sitting out in the garden, hearing and seeing what’s around you.

    2. Set aside a fixed time during the day.

    This is especially important if you are just starting out, because a strict regime is helpful to cultivate a habit. A good time is early in the morning. A recent study showed that early morning is the ideal time for alpha wave activity in the brain, which is associated with restful attentiveness. But depending on your schedule or your routine, any other time of the day is good enough to start with. Start with ten minutes and slowly make your way up to an hour. There’s no right or wrong duration, but the more the better.

    3. Start with an intention.

    Make a decision to consciously choose solitude. Embrace it like it’s your best friend. Know that it is good for you, that it is the right thing for you. That there is nothing better you’d rather do right now, and no one more important to talk to than yourself.

    Most importantly, don’t get too serious. Develop a sense of joy, a sense of humor about the whole thing.

    Sometimes it all may seem impossible, especially when painful memories and a sense of loss come back with profound pain. It may feel hopeless as the thoughts and feelings overwhelm you. But believe that those thoughts and feelings are like a movie playing in your head. They do not define your reality in the present moment. Do not let them consume you.

    Believe you are the mountain in the storm. And when the thoughts and feelings eventually pass, which they will, come back to your practice. Develop almost a blind devotion to it in the beginning, because it may take many sittings to feel the first signs of solidity and bliss coming back.

    If you are finding it tough to start by yourself, go to a local yoga or meditation class and work on your basic form. Then come back and try it again.

    4. Start enjoying your company whenever the opportunity arises.

    As you start building a regiment for solitude, you will start to appreciate moments to yourself. While you wait for your friend at the subway before you head to that party together. While you wait for your favorite burger to arrive after deciding to eat out by yourself.

    Think of those fleeting minutes as a gift, as an opportunity to see if you can appreciate the world around you. Wait before you flip out your phone or put on your music. Can you see how solid and calm you feel now, compared to before? How rich the world around you is? Give yourself a high-five for putting in all those hours of solitude practice.

    And if by chance that solitude is forced upon you by a tragedy or unforeseen event, even better! Because when your heart is broken it’s the most open, and ripe for new wisdom and the richness of the world to take root. Acclaimed author and Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön says, “To stay with that shakiness—to stay with a broken heart, with a rumbling stomach, with the feeling of hopelessness and wanting to get revenge—that is the path of true awakening,”

    Be deliberate. Be disciplined. And you will soon get to know the most interesting person you have ever met! One who will always be with you, no matter what else you lose.

  • Practical Pathways to Inner Peace: A Free Video Series for Inner Calm

    Practical Pathways to Inner Peace: A Free Video Series for Inner Calm

    As a mom who works from home while caring for two young kids, I know all too well how easy is to get overwhelmed and stressed out. I also know the deep sense of regret and sometimes shame that bubble up when I lash out from a place of agitation (usually at my boyfriend, who’s equally frazzled).

    I sometimes beat myself up when this happens because this isn’t the kind of person I want to be. But this only makes things worse because now I feel bad about my actions, my impact, and myself. So instead, I try to catch myself and focus on doing the next right thing—which requires me to act from a place of presence and calm. Not always easy when you’re sleep-deprived and flooded with emotion.

    That’s why I appreciate simple mindfulness practices that I can implement anytime, anywhere, to help me relax and get out of my head. And that’s what drew me to the work of Meg Coyle, this month’s site sponsor.

    Meg Coyle’s simple awareness tools will help you restore inner peace and reclaim the wisdom within you.

    For more than thirty years, Meg has been a teacher and mentor to women searching for practical ways to deal with chronic stress and overwhelm—without a complicated, time-consuming process.

    In this FREE video series Meg will show you that emotional calm and mental clarity really aren’t as elusive as they seem. All you need is a reliable way to access them.

    Meg will explain how to restore inner peace and maintain it, no matter what’s going on in your life or in the world. In just three short videos (less than fifteen minutes total) you’ll discover…

    • One simple practice that will help you transform every situation into an opportunity for peace.
    • What it really takes to stay in the present moment (and connected to your inner wisdom).
    • How to consistently respond instead of reacting to your stressors for an improved quality of life.

    PLUS, you’ll get instant access to the 1Body Members Resource Library filled with practical resources, including downloadable guides, worksheets, e-books, transcripts of Meg’s podcasts, and more. As an added bonus, you’ll receive Meg’s tips, tools, and guidance directly in your inbox from time to time.

    No matter what’s happening around you, you can find a sense of peace and calm—and bring that into your interactions with the people you care about most.

    Sign up for Practical Pathways to Inner Peace, and let Meg show you the way.

    **While Meg speaks to women in her videos and writing, her tips and tools could work for anyone!

  • The Power of Reframing: 3 Ways to Feel Better About Life

    The Power of Reframing: 3 Ways to Feel Better About Life

    “Some people could be given an entire field of roses and only see the thorns in it. Others could be given a single weed and only see the wildflower in it. Perception is a key component to gratitude. And gratitude a key component to joy.” ~Amy Weatherly

    I grew up in a deeply negative environment. My parents separated acrimoniously when I was seven, and they were a grim example of how not to do divorce.

    They brought out the worst in each other, and sadly, over time, they also brought out the worst in me. I was depressed as a teen, and had been conditioned to believe that my problems were an unfortunate family trait—one that I had simply to accept and live with.

    And I did, for many years. But of course, I was not happy. And yet I didn’t know enough about the world to understand that my environment and upbringing were very largely to blame.

    I now know that while genetics can account for up to around 40% of the happiness we experience, the rest is within our control.

    I’m aware of this because studies have shown it to be the case. But I know it because I’ve also lived it.

    Deciding to Change My Life

    Over the last ten years, I’ve dramatically changed my life, and I’m the most at peace I’ve ever been.

    When my eldest daughter was a baby, I finally had an important enough reason to want better. I was determined that she would grow up in a fun and positive home. And if I was going to make that a reality, I had to put in the work to make it happen.

    Plus, it had become especially vital at that time since my daughter’s difficult delivery had been traumatic and left me with extreme postnatal anxiety. I was in a very bad place, and I needed to get out of it; I needed, in fact, to get out of my own head. And I didn’t want to rely on medication for that.

    While my husband had already saved me in many ways, the rest was my responsibility—my state of mind, my outlook.

    Desperate but determined, I began an activity that, over time, changed my life.

    While I appreciate that sounds like an exaggeration, it’s really not. Because my life truly has changed. Although it also hasn’t. Allow me to explain…

    The Power of Reframing

    I inadvertently learned how to reframe, and it’s possibly the most profound skill there is for increasing happiness.

    It’s so incredibly powerful because it can change your experience of life—without changing your actual circumstances.

    Here are a few examples of how reframing helped me to feel more positive about my own life…

    A few weeks ago my dad moved, and I planned to visit with my girls during half term to take him a plant.

    We live in the UK, and while the weather is changeable, it’s usually fairly mild. But on the day it so happened to be spectacularly windy. I told my dad we’d make our way and I’d let him know if we couldn’t get there.

    We made it! And after dropping off my dad’s plant, we drove a short way to a restaurant.

    Before we’d even ordered drinks, the winds brought down a pylon and there was a power cut. The kitchen closed, and my young daughters ate crisps for lunch, and I still had to get us safely home.

    But, instead of being mad that the entire day turned into a farce (we encountered fallen trees on the way home!), I was glad I’d made the effort. Most importantly, we were safe, but also it reinforced to my dad that we cared enough to get there despite the challenges.

    Another example is that since Christmas we’ve had one illness after another in our home. First was COVID, and since then we’ve had viruses and two bouts of chicken pox.

    When my eldest succumbed to COVID, I was worried about her, but also on a practical level how I’d get my youngest daughter to school (until my husband also tested positive, at which point I was able to leave the house). The fear that had been silently there for two years had finally caught up with us, and it had the potential to be an enormous source of stress.

    But during the COVID episode—and later with chicken pox too—school mums stepped up without me even asking. I’d never really felt like I’d integrated with the school mum crowd, but as it turned out, I was wrong:

    They totally had my back.

    I felt and continue to feel so incredibly grateful not only for them, but also knowing that I have a support network I did not even realize was there.

    These are just a couple of recent examples which spring to mind, of situations that previously I probably would have experienced negatively and complained about—but I’m now able to reframe to find the silver living.

    So you see, my life is different in terms of how I experience the world, and yet it’s really the very same as it always was. But I feel vastly different.

    I feel at peace.

    And now I want to share my process so others can also learn how to do this for themselves, because it’s basically free therapy, available to everyone, that we can implement alone, and without guidance.

    But how did I do it, without professional help—and without medication?

    How to Tap Into the Benefits of Reframing

    For me, there were really three steps to my journey, which happen to work together in perfect harmony.

    1. Practicing gratitude

    First, I began writing gratitude lists.

    With no comprehension of their value—but with a deep desire to start appreciating the good things in my life, and a desperate hope it was a good starting point. Good enough to help me do better for my daughter.

    I started writing a list of the positive things that had happened each week. Not realizing that this is actually an effective therapeutic exercise, I wasn’t expecting very much to happen.

    But I knew that the fundamental change I wanted to see in my life was more positivity. So I figured the “fake it till you make it” approach might just be beneficial.

    Incredibly, it didn’t just help—it was the turning point of my life to such a degree that it now feels like before and after.

    Writing gratitude lists isn’t difficult. It can be as simple as jotting down three, or five, or ten things you’re thankful for. This can be done when you wake up, to start the day on a positive note, or at the end of each day if you prefer.

    If you have a hectic schedule and can’t find time to do this daily, just be sure to do it regularly.

    And if writing it down seems like too much effort at the end of the day, you could try saying your list of things for the day quietly and privately in your own mind.

    It doesn’t need to a formal practice; it just needs to something you do practice. Because over time, something magical happens…

    2. Positivity

    As time goes by and you continue to acknowledge the good in your life, your default mindset will begin to switch over to a more positive one.

    For me, it was like a spiritual awakening, and I like to use an analogy to describe my experience.

    The idea of rose-tinted glasses is a familiar one for most people. But sometimes they’re actually a blessing. After spending several months practicing gratitude regularly, I felt like I’d removed the only pair of glasses I’d ever known, and the world suddenly looked brighter.

    I also began to appreciate that positivity is often a self-fulfilling prophecy: the harder you look for it, the more you will find.

    And your mood tends to be reflected back to you by others, too. Just as negativity is draining, positive people energize those around them!

    I was recently waxing lyrical to somebody about the positive impacts of gratitude and reframing, but they insisted that offloading onto friends or family is necessary sometimes. I didn’t completely disagree, but I had something important to add:

    By default, increased positivity leads to a decrease in negative experiences, which in turn leads to less often feeling a need to offload. And that’s the magic of this whole concept.

    There’s one final step in my toolkit…

    3. Journaling

    Unfortunately, when you’ve grown up in a negative environment, it can be all too easy to slide back into ingrained behaviors—old habits die hard.

    For that reason, even though I feel very mentally robust these days, I know that if I stop practicing these new skills, it’s almost inevitable that I’ll return to the mindset I developed as a child. (I’ve learned this the hard way.)

    Journaling is my favorite way to stay on track and accountable, because it can easily incorporate each of the above ideas, plus so many more.

    Depending on my mood, I love journaling for its mindfulness, or state of flow, or as a creative outlet. Or all of the above!

    Essentially, these skills each feed into and reinforce one another. And together, they really are life-changing.

     

     

  • How Mindfulness Made Me an Empowered Introvert (and How It Can Help You)

    How Mindfulness Made Me an Empowered Introvert (and How It Can Help You)

    “Introverts live in two worlds: We visit the world of people, but solitude and the inner world will always be our home.” ~Jenn Granneman, The Secret Lives of Introverts: Inside Our Hidden World

    Never at any point in my life did I think I was an introvert. I always thought I was just a regular kid flowing with life’s experiences just like everyone else, and there was nothing strange about me.

    That was until I started being told I was too quiet, serious-faced, shy, and a nerd. I liked, and still do like, my own space and doing things by myself or with a very close friend. Spending time at home surfing the web, learning new things, and obsessing over the latest technology has always been my thing.

    I never liked the idea of being around groups of people, attending parties, and socializing for long periods of time because I felt weighed down and lacked energy for such activities.

    I would always feel anxious and self-conscious walking outside, and whenever someone approached and started talking to me, things would end up being awkward no matter how hard I tried to keep a steady conversation going.

    Such was my life. As I kept growing, it became so much of a bother that it started affecting how I perceived myself.

    I became more anxious—stressed about socializing and being outside, making friends, and even expressing myself in serious situations like job interviews.

    I also had a bad temper back then, and whenever I got angry, I turned into this ugly and angry bear that could not be calmed down by anyone. After my moments of anger, regret would slowly creep in, and I would chew myself up for all the mean things I’d said and done to others.

    “This is not the kind of life I want to live to my old age,” I thought to myself. Being the introverted nerd I was, I decided to do deep research and look for permanent solutions to change the situation for the better.

    In the research phase I stumbled upon the practice of mindfulness. The idea of training your mind to remain in the present moment and being aware of your thoughts, feelings, and sensations was kind of interesting to me, and I felt it could work for me.

    So, I took up the responsibility of learning about mindfulness and how I could get started and use it to improve upon myself.

    A few years down the line, after immersing myself in the practice and doing it daily, I have seen much improvement in my life and how I do things, and I couldn’t be prouder of myself.

    I have become more empowered and equipped to handle the aspects of my life that I had problems with before, and I’ve seen good results with them.

    5 Ways Mindfulness Empowered Me as an Introvert

    Here are the five ways mindfulness changed and improved my life for the better.

    1. Mindfulness made me feel comfortable in my introvert skin.

    Initially, I thought the only way my life was going to improve was by training myself to be extroverted.

    I had even created a strategy of how I would slowly become more talkative and vulnerable—how I would force myself to attend more social events, talk to as many people as I could, and tell them everything about my life. Then they would feel I’m being open with them and in turn open up to me, and life would become amazing.

    Looking back, that strategy was designed to help me live a lie. It was supposed to teach me to be everything besides myself, and I’m glad I didn’t get to execute the plan because I discovered mindfulness shortly after considering it.

    After practicing mindfulness for a while, I became aware of my nature as an introvert and how I did things in my life. I noticed that while there were many drawbacks to introversion, there were also many advantages.

    And extroverts face problems that spring from their extroversion just as introverts get criticized for their introversion.

    As an introvert, I often appeared to be boring and quiet, so many people disliked me, but a friend told me that because he was an extrovert, he had many fake friends who hurt him.

    That’s when I discovered no side is better than the other. Introversion and extroversion both had advantages and disadvantages.

    With that realization, I became comfortable being the introvert I was, and I thought to myself, “I’m going to hold onto my nature as an introvert. It may not be perfect, but at least I won’t be living a lie by pretending to be someone I’m not.”

    2. Mindfulness made me more confident.

    Self-acceptance is perhaps the best thing I got from mindfulness because it helped me feel comfortable with who I was, and as a result, my confidence increased.

    I no longer believed that it was bad to be an introvert and instead, focused more on the positive side of it. I also came to learn that extroverts envied me just as I envied them.

    While I thought being an extrovert was cool, I remembered that extroverted friends had once told me they wished they were like me. They thought my quietness gave me a mysterious personality, and being comfortable staying alone for long periods also made me powerful and independent. Remembering this added to my overall confidence and self-acceptance.

    I went from “Man, I wish I was more social and talkative!” to “Man, I love how I’m quiet and comfortable being alone!”

    Also, being aware of the anxious and stressful thoughts and feelings I had when I was among people helped me realize that they were baseless, and they were just that—thoughts and feelings. Things that would keep coming and going.

    They were neither the reality nor the truth.

    I had created exaggerated scenarios in my mind, which made me feel anxious and awkward around people. By simply being aware of them, without doing anything, they became powerless and the social anxiety slowly disappeared from my life.

    3. Mindfulness gave me mental clarity and focus.

    By learning to be aware of my thoughts, sensations, and feelings in the present moment, I had fewer thoughts and was also able to have more control over my feelings. Fewer thoughts, especially the anxiety-inducing thoughts, translated to more mental clarity and focus.

    Instead of having negative thoughts about how other people perceived me when I was interacting with them, or about how awkward I felt talking to them, I became more open and aware of the experience of speaking with people, and began going out more without overthinking it.

    That slight change of approach made it possible for me to look people in the eye when talking to them and keep a normal and steady conversation without someone realizing I was once a “socially disabled” introvert.

    On top of that, the reduction of distracting thoughts and the emotional control I got from the practice helped me improve my level of productivity in my education and work.

    It turns out when you have fewer thoughts to explore, your mind can maintain focus for a long period and your attention span increases.

    4. Mindfulness increased my self-awareness.

    By being constantly mindful throughout the day, I was able to understand myself better. I discovered the specific areas in my life I was good at as well as those I needed to work on.

    For instance, I noticed that when speaking to people, I would think before I spoke. This helped me avoid the embarrassment of saying thoughtless words that would make me look like a fool or hurt the person I was conversing with.

    I also realized that while I was strong with my communication, I lacked when it came to taking action. I took many thoughtless actions, which got me into trouble.

    With the tiny observations I made, and through the reflection of better approaches combined with determined and disciplined effort, I was able to improve and became a better person.

    5. Mindfulness brought me peace and inner harmony.

    Within a couple of years, I went from a socially awkward, constantly anxious, self-loathing person to a self-loving, more confident, mentally and emotionally stable person, which helped me feel more peaceful and in sync with myself.

    I didn’t have to pretend or think and do things from an extrovert’s point of view so that I would be accepted. I accepted myself as I was and discovered how other people love my introverted traits, and this brought me a feeling of satisfaction with myself.

    Moreover, I was free to think and act according to my nature, and that has made everything in my life work in harmony.

    How I Made Mindfulness Work in My Life (And How You Can Too)

    After researching and reading articles, watching videos, and listening to podcasts and teachings on mindfulness, I decided to take action.

    I began with mindfulness meditation because it is the easiest and most rewarding first step to mindfulness. It not only helps you learn how mindfulness feels and how to cultivate it but also trains you to be mindful without much effort.

    It is even more rewarding when you use guided meditations for mindfulness meditation. I worked with guided meditations for a couple of months before I could begin meditating on my own, and I saw good results.

    A guided mindfulness meditation will walk you through your whole experience, with the help of an expert who’ll explain how to relax your mind and body so you can have a fulfilling session.

    It’s simply the best place to start building mindfulness in your life.

    I began meditating for one or two minutes and increased the duration to five minutes, then ten, and then twenty as I felt more at ease with the practice.

    After I got comfortable with meditating, I started incorporating mindfulness into my daily life, practicing while eating, listening and speaking, showering, walking, and working.

    These techniques really improved my level of mindfulness and helped me be more aware of myself. The best approach is to begin incorporating these techniques into your life one by one. Begin with the one you feel is easiest to work with and stick to it for a few weeks. Then take up another technique and do the same until you find it natural to do all of them throughout the day.

    The goal is to do the regular activities more mindfully, and as a result, increase your moments of mindfulness through the day.

    I have seen mindfulness turn my life around as an introvert, and if I was able to become that empowered through it, I believe you can too. I invite you to work closely with mindfulness and see how it can spice up your life.

  • The Joy of Unexpected Kindness and 3 Reasons It’s Hard to Be Kind

    The Joy of Unexpected Kindness and 3 Reasons It’s Hard to Be Kind

    “Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world.” ~Howard Zinn 

    Have you ever experienced an unexpected act of kindness that completely changed your day?

    I have, and I sincerely hope you have too.

    Please pause for a moment and try to remember the last time that happened. How were you feeling before? What happened? And how did the act of kindness impact you?

    If I look back on my own life, I can find countless moments where the suddenness, the unexpectedness of an act of kindness, shook me awake.

    It might sound strange, but this seems to have been especially so when it came from a stranger.

    That’s not to say that the kindness of those close to us isn’t important, because it is. The kindness of our friends, family, and colleagues can keep us going when life throws challenges in our way, and their joy in our happiness makes the good moments radiate even stronger.

    But there is something about an act of kindness from an unexpected source that causes its healing ripples to be especially powerful.

    And most of the time this isn’t some great or inspiring act but just a very small gesture: a smile, a friendly greeting, a sincere question, a few words from someone who genuinely seems to wish you a good day.

    I remember the first time I went backpacking, feeling lost in a city, staring at my map, when a random stranger offered me his help in pointing out the way.

    I remember feeling tired and lost in thought after a long drive, stopping for gas and a quick bite, and the man working behind the counter at the restaurant clearing my mind with the pleasure he took in his work, smiling with a disarming friendliness.

    I remember sitting in a train in Thailand for fourteen hours, anxiously moving toward my first month-long meditation retreat, and suddenly getting a few genuine words of encouragement and advice from a pair sitting across the aisle.

    I remember a woman sitting in her car, rolling down her window to share her joy in seeing my son race down a hill on his bike.

    I remember yesterday, when the cook at our canteen advised me on what to choose, doing her best to prepare my dish with full attention and then sincerely wishing me a good day.

    In all these situations I was not only left with a feeling of joy, but also a sense of connection.

    Kindness can bring a short moment of relaxation in an otherwise busy day, or a complete change from feeling stressed and chagrined to feeling elated, open, and interconnected with the world.

    Kindness is just that powerful.

    And the beautiful thing is that we all have the chance, every single day, to contribute to this kindness in the world.

    So, again, pause for a moment and this time think about the last time when you were the kind stranger. When was that? How did it make you feel?

    To start with the second question, my guess would be that it made you feel good. The first question might be more difficult to answer. Looking at myself, although I would love to say “today,” that just isn’t true.

    Interesting, isn’t it.

    So, kindness is very powerful and important, it helps us and others, it doesn’t cost us anything, yet it still is difficult to give every day.

    I can think of many reasons why it is difficult, but to keep it simple I’ll list three:

    1. You can only give what you have.

    If you want to give somebody money, you must first have money in your bank account. If you want to give kindness, you must first practice being kind to yourself.

    That is why, for example, Buddhist meditation on loving-kindness (mettā) begins by giving loving-kindness to yourself, and only then to others.

    But don’t worry, you don’t have to spend hours each day meditating; just start with a few minutes every morning (or any other time that fits your schedule) by wishing yourself and those close to you happiness and health. Then try to act on this throughout the day by honoring your needs and prioritizing things that bring you peace and joy.

    It’s okay to wish yourself happiness; it’s not selfish. If you are happy you will be able to radiate that happiness outward, making spontaneous acts of kindness easier to do.

    As your ability to do so strengthens, you can always add a few minutes to wish the same to people you know but about whom you do not have a specific feeling, or a neutral feeling. If that gets easier and easier you can even start adding people you dislike, strengthening the power of your kindness further and further.

    2. You have to see the other person.

    If you are anything like me, then you probably live most of your life in a form of zombie state. Moving from place to place, working, talking, acting on what’s happening, checking your smartphone way too often, all without any form of true consciousness or mindfulness.

    You can do the following test to check this for yourself.

    At the end of the day, look into the mirror and ask yourself how often that day you truly noticed how and what you were doing. That’s all.

    Chances are the honest conclusion will be that you just rushed through the day (again).

    If you don’t notice how you are during the day, if you are not mindful of your own state of mind, if you do not see yourself, then how can you truly see another person?

    It all comes down to how much conscious space we have—how open our mind is toward ourselves and those around us.

    Consciousness tends to expand when we harbor wholesome qualities such as patience, energy, calm, and so on, and it tends to narrow when we harbor unwholesome qualities such as anger, desire, envy, and so on.

    Fundamentally, these mental qualities depend strongly on mindfulness, on our ability to see our mind for what it is.

    If you let a goat loose in a field of grass it will just do whatever it pleases and eat wherever it pleases. If you tie the goat to a pole, the goat will only eat the grass within the circumference of the rope and pole.

    Mindfulness is like the rope that binds our mind to ourselves, keeping it within. Keeping the mind within prevents it from creating all kinds of illusions and personal realities that cause the unwholesome aspects of your mind to arise.

    Keeping the mind within helps bring calm and contentment.

    To strengthen your mindfulness, you do not necessarily have to sit down on a meditation cushion as is often suggested. Mindfulness is something you can practice every day, whatever you are doing.

    Just pick a few routines you do every day and cultivate the intention to do them as mindfully as possible. Do only what you are doing, with all your attention, and if you find your mind drifting off bring it back to your task.

    The more you practice this, the more it will become an ingrained aspect of your mind, bringing with it the experience of calm and openness—and the better you’ll be able to really see other people and recognize opportunities for kindness,

    3. You have to practice regularly and be patient with yourself.

    In the end, kindness isn’t different from other skills. Every human possesses the potential to be kind, but you have to practice it in order to bring that potential to fruition.

    Research by the University of Wisconsin showed that compassion can be learned. Just like a muscle can be trained by weightlifting, people can build up their compassion.

    The most direct route I know of is training through meditation—by practicing loving-kindness meditation and the practice of being mindful, as mentioned about, even if it is only for a few minutes every day.

    But don’t go at it with the businessman’s approach most of us grew up with. A businessman’s approach means expecting results relative to the time you invest. Developing the mind, developing kindness, doesn’t work that way.

    We all have our own personal qualities and hindrances, and just as with other skills, to some it comes natural, while others need more time and effort.

    Don’t worry too much about the results; getting on the path to becoming a kinder person is the most important thing. If you keep practicing patiently you will develop the power of kindness within yourself sooner or later. And it will become second nature to offer those small gestures of support, appreciation, and encouragement that can completely change someone’s day.

  • How Embracing a Good Enough Life Gave Me the Life of My Dreams

    How Embracing a Good Enough Life Gave Me the Life of My Dreams

    “Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.” ~Eckart Tolle

    It was perfect. Well, almost.

    I was doing the work I love, with someone I love, my two boys were thriving, and we seemed to finally be on the road to retirement. What could possibly be wrong with this picture?

    A lot, apparently.

    I was waking up worried and unsatisfied. Always feeling like life was missing something, like I was missing something, not doing enough, asking: How can my business be better? What will my kids do next year? Is my partner gaining weight? Did I run yesterday?

    Anxiety crept into my mind and contracted my body before I had a chance to get ahead of it. It was an unease that something just wasn’t quite right. And if it was, then it wouldn’t be for long.

    I knew enough about neuroscience and anxiety to know what was happening.

    Negative thoughts are a protective pattern that come from scanning our environment for potential threats.

    Our ancestors were wired this way to survive, thankfully, and we are probably in the first generation that can even talk about the word “abundance,” at least in this part of the world. The intergenerational trauma of feeling unsafe is in the recent past and runs deep in our DNA, especially for women.

    But even armed with all the knowledge of trauma and all the best practices of breathing, meditation, and yoga, there was still a missing link.

    My worries seemed trivial given the war that was raging in the world. It seemed self-indulgent to want more, to even consider that this was not enough. Even when it felt enough, it was because all the factors were lining up in that moment, but it felt precarious, like a house of cards—even though I knew it wasn’t.

    All the self-help books promised I could “reach for my dreams” and “have my best life ever” if I only changed my habits and my mindset and lived like I thought all the people around me were.

    In fact, I was so busy working on my life that I felt exhausted and still felt like I wasn’t doing or giving enough. Even when deciding what charity to donate to, to help those in need, I felt like I had to choose the “right” one!

    It was through my work with people in chronic pain that one day something shifted. I was teaching about the difference between acceptance and giving up in the search for a cure, and I said something like “It’s not so much what you are doing but how you are doing it.”

    Doing something from a place of pressure and intensity, with a worry about making a mistake or not getting it right, creates fear. Fear creates more fear in the end, and it creates pain.

    My inner perfectionist gasped and took a step back. She was outed.

    Not only did I see how my inner perfectionist had been running the show, I knew that if I wanted to negotiate with her, I was going to have to come from a different energy other than “getting this right.”

    She had helped me; she had worked so hard to stay on top of everything and got me through some tough times.

    She had guilted me when I felt like a bad mother, a bad friend, a less-than therapist, or a mediocre spouse and showed me all the ways I could be better. She even lent her expertise to my family, telling them how they should behave, what they should eat and not eat, and how they should conduct their lives.

    This was sometimes done directly, but she also worked coercively behind the scenes through people-pleasing, manipulation, and other passive-aggressive behaviors.

    She was based in fear and shame as a trauma response, learned early on in my childhood years, that told me my authentic self was clearly not good enough. So I employed her services to keep me safe, help me fit in at school, get good marks, and be an all around “good girl” on the outside. But the inner pressure of a perfectionist is unbearable and soon morphed into an eating disorder when life felt out of control.

    Many of us live in a nasty triangle that can be difficult to see and even more difficult to disrupt. It goes: shame-inner critic-perfection, and it balances itself precariously inside our mind and body leaving its imprint of “not good enough” to guide our lives.

    This is compounded by a culture that primes us to feel like we’re not okay and there is always something to buy, change, or fix, because it is not normal to just be okay.

    Even though my trauma happened decades ago, the vestiges remained. I could not quite relax into my life without something or someone, mostly myself, feeling “not quite good enough.” I also found this same core belief to be at the root of many if not all of my clients’ struggles with anxiety, depression, and chronic pain.

    It was the constant feeling of being here but wanting to be… somewhere or someone else. A knee-jerk resistance to life or an inability to truly sink into all life has to offer without finding fault or a hiccup somewhere. Or worse, thinking that I had to earn my worth by doing more and being more, and all without effort!

    Not. Good. Enough.

    Not good enough for what? For whom? This is an unanswerable question because it is a lie. But it is one thing to know that and another to let my inner perfectionist know I was safe now and she could take a backseat because, well, I’m good enough.

    I thought about the times I felt free and at peace.

    I thought about the people I knew whose lives had the biggest impact on me.

    I had a chat with my future self twenty years from now about the qualities she had, how she moved, and what she valued.

    And it came down to a word: simplicity.

    Here is where I had to tread carefully. My inner perfectionist would make finding simplicity very, very complicated and approach it with an all-in attitude, as she did everything: live in a tiny house, two chairs, two sets of cutlery, and a bed.

    No, there had to be another way, an easier way.

    It turns out, it was the easiest way possible: Embrace what is here now.

    What if everything was good enough, just as it is, in this moment? What if I was good enough, just as I am, in this moment? What if my body, my health, my relationships, all the ways I tried, were just good enough?

    It felt radical, revolutionary. It felt like I was disrupting all my programming about what it means to live a good life. It was not the energy of giving up or rationalizing that I didn’t deserve more and I should settle for less. It wasn’t even the energy of gratitude or appreciating what I have and how privileged I am.

    It was the opposite.

    Embracing my life as good enough busted the myth of inferiority and superiority that tells us some people are more or less worthy than others. It let me relax into the fact that we are all doing the best we can with what we know at that moment. If I was good enough, then others were too.

    It busted the myth of needing more and being more, because I didn’t have anything to prove to anyone. It also busted the myth that if I truly accepted my life as it is, I would just lie down on the couch and never get up. Again, the opposite happened.

    Energy was freed up for more of what I love, not what I should do. Worry and struggle were replaced with self-forgiveness.

    Embracing my life as good enough gave me the doorway I needed to a quality of life I couldn’t imagine.

    I realized I was good enough to show up just as I am.

    I realized I was good enough to set boundaries around what and who aligned with me.

    I realized I could write, speak, and create in a messy, fun, good enough way.

    I realized I was good enough to rest.

    I realized I was good enough to embrace my own wants, needs, and desires.

    I realized I was already good enough for pleasure right here and now in a million ways I couldn’t see before.

    I realized my life was not about being better, improved, fixed… it was about being who I am, and that was enough.

    I realized I could work less and make more money.

    I realized my body was a remarkable organism that was to be loved and held, not manipulated.

    I realized that every decision I made was right for me because it was good enough.

    I realized that struggle was never meant to be my life, but giving, loving, and contributing were.

    I realized I was already good enough to live a life of joy, comfort, and ease.

    One of the most beautiful parts of this is looking in my children’s eyes and knowing that they, too, are so perfectly good enough just as they are. They don’t need to prove their worth to anyone.

    Embracing my good enough life has allowed me to enter my life, just as I am, and has turned “good enough” into “how good can it get?” It gave me the safety I needed to “do what I can, with what I have, where I am” (Theodore Roosevelt).

    Can you imagine a world where everyone knew they were just good enough? Where we all lived life from a place of forgiveness, grace, and compassion for ourselves?

    What are you already good enough for that life is just waiting to give you?

  • Why It’s Worth the Temporary Discomfort of Sitting with Intense Emotions

    Why It’s Worth the Temporary Discomfort of Sitting with Intense Emotions

    “Whatever you’re feeling, it will eventually pass.”  ~Lori Deschene

    Can you feel an intense emotion, like anger, without acting on it, reacting to it, or trying to get rid of it?

    Can you feel such an intense emotion without needing to justify or explain it—or needing to find someone or something to blame it on?

    After successfully dodging it for two years, I recently caught Covid-19. The physical symptoms were utter misery. But something much more interesting happened while I was unwell.

    The whole experience brought some intense emotions to the surface. Namely, seething anger about something that had nothing to do with the virus.

    In the handful of days that my symptoms were at their worst, I was absolutely livid. And while on some level it made sense that I was angry that getting this sick was both extremely unpleasant and delaying work on a project I was all fired up about, the anger was manifesting with a deeper-rooted blame.

    I grew up in a religious denomination that had a profound effect on my childhood and adolescence. It taught me through debilitating fear, division, and confusion. It ingrained black-and-white rights and wrongs for living, thinking, and being that had never made sufficient sense to me, no one could adequately explain, and were damaging for me on a number of levels.

    In the past couple of years, I worked through its various effects with shadow work, inner child healing, forgiveness, and even quantum energetic healing. Each of these modalities supported me immensely with healing different layers.

    But the emotion of deep anger I harbored clearly hadn’t gone away, and it simply needed to be felt.

    The more we learn to observe and witness our emotions, the more acutely aware we become of where they’re stemming from, and the more we’re able to notice and catch ourselves when we’re associating our emotions with narratives and situations that are not in fact to blame for how we’re feeling.

    Although I’d initially managed to fashion some connection between being unwell and the church I still harbored so much anger toward, I became increasingly aware that there was none. My inclination to blame the church was part of an ongoing pattern. And it was time to break this pattern.

    At the same time, I’d recently become very aware that whenever I’d hear mention of the church or any of its associated beliefs, a brief surge of anger would leap up in me. I was still feeling triggered.

    I was very ready to move beyond these patterns of blame and anger. And getting to that inner peace I so wanted to feel meant addressing this on an emotional level. I realized that what I needed was to actually sit with these feelings so they could be fully acknowledged and allowed to move through me.

    The only person who is ever responsible for your emotions is you. And your emotions are simply powerful feedback. They show up for one of two dominant reasons.

    Either they’re unresolved past emotions that are surfacing because they’re ready to be acknowledged and felt now, or they’re feelings that demonstrate how a situation is resonating for you—in other words, they’re your own inner compass.

    Sadly, although traditions like Buddhism have been teaching us how to develop emotional awareness for thousands of years, we’ve somehow landed on two dominant, ineffective responses.

    Acting on our emotions or trying to brush them under the rug.

    Brushing an emotion under the rug will only keep it trapped inside of you. Meaning it will resurface to bother you as many times as it needs to in the future until you deal with it.

    And the practices of toxic positivity fall under this category. Write a gratitude list and look for the best-feeling thought you can find, they say. In other words, avoid the “negative” emotion for now and let it fester under the surface a little while longer.

    Newsflash: No emotion is negative unless it’s fueling a negative action or reaction. It’s simply feedback pointing you toward growth or clarity.

    Which brings me to the next dominant response we resort to. Acting on the emotion (by yelling at someone, for example) will at least give it an opportunity to release but will most likely create consequences that won’t serve you. We’ve all been there and done that, so no judgment here.

    As I emphasized earlier, the only person who’s ever responsible for your emotions is you. And we tend to act on our emotions by deflecting this responsibility. So we learn, understand, and gain nothing from them.

    So, I sat with the anger. I was fully present with it—by itself, separate from any experience or event that I could possibly associate it with.

    I acknowledged it, felt its full intensity, and breathed through it. I sat with the parts of me that felt this emotion with compassion. I surrendered to letting it move through me.

    Despite having felt the intensity of this anger for a few days, it released fairly quickly when I leaned into it. And when it released, I was able to see pretty clearly why being ill had triggered this anger.

    I’ve also noticed that since this whole experience, the little surges of anger I’d previously felt have gone away. So far I haven’t felt those triggers since, which is a relief.

    Before I go any further, I want to acknowledge that many of us are carrying deep trauma that’s often too painful to even fathom triggering. So have compassion for yourself in whatever you feel, and don’t put off seeking the right support to work through your emotions if you feel you need this.

    Now, this might sound counterintuitive, and it’s incredibly uncomfortable to do at first. But real emotional awareness—and maturity—means sitting with the emotion and feeling its fullness.

    It’s identifying what this emotion is and how it feels. Including where you can feel it physically.

    It’s giving yourself some time and space to focus on really leaning into the emotion and separating it from any narrative or incident it may be associated with. Focusing on the emotion by itself in isolation allows us to process it. Without blame, justification, or self-pity.

    When you can truly feel, acknowledge, and breathe through it, it releases. And when it’s released, you’re able to understand what it represented for you. You grow through it.

    This may take time, but a feeling is only ever there to be felt. And until it is, it will be increasingly vociferous in how it tries to get your attention.

    This can require a lot of courage, especially because too many of us have been conditioned to fear feeling our emotions and believe that we can’t handle them.

    But if you need to cry, cry. If it feels intense, this is where deeply buried stuff is surfacing for release.

    And when you let an emotion move through you, you let it move out of you.

    This doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel another “negative” emotion ever again.

    But it does mean that you’ll understand how to respond to these emotions and allow them to be felt and understood with a lot more compassion.

    And that’s more than worth the temporary discomfort.

  • Why I Broke Down Mentally While Striving for Work/Life Balance

    Why I Broke Down Mentally While Striving for Work/Life Balance

    “Maybe it’s time for the fighter to be fought for, the holder to be held, and the lover to be loved.” ~Unknown

    I was breastfeeding my infant son when he bit me. That bite set the stage for a deeper unraveling then I could have ever imagined.

    I unlatched him, handed him to my husband, and got in my car. As I was driving I began to lose the feeling in my hands and feet. My vision started to blur, and my breathing was fast and shallow. I was terrified I was not going to make it back home. I pleaded with the powers that be to allow me to safely pull over to the side of the road.

    I was about a mile away from our house, but that mile felt like eternity. My vision continued to blur and my whole body was starting to tingle.

    When I got home, a miracle not lost on me, I couldn’t shake this fear. I couldn’t be left alone. I was afraid if I was alone, I would take my life.

    I couldn’t reconcile this. How could I so badly want to live and be afraid I’d end my life at the same time? What an interesting, terrifying place to be in: a place where you can no longer trust yourself to keep you safe and alive.

    Turns out what I had in the car was a panic attack, and what I was feeling at home was suicidal ideation.

    My sister and brother-in-law drove down to Southern California in the middle of the night to be with me and insisted I seek help that next morning. I was incredibly reluctant because I had a huge project due at work and didn’t want to let my team down. They didn’t care.

    I went to see a doctor the next day, and that landed me in a treatment center for mental illness. I reluctantly admitted myself into an inpatient program.

    I had to go on medical leave, just three weeks after returning to work from maternity leave. I was so afraid of how that would impact my career. What would people think? Would my boss resent me?  Would I ever be able to get promoted? Even though this was truly a choice of life or death, it was still one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. I was terrified of the outcome.

    What I received in treatment, albeit begrudgingly, was more than just mental health support. I also gained a healthy dose of perspective and clarity. This wasn’t just postpartum anxiety. This was trying to balance work and life and leaving myself out of the mix. Not only that, but I didn’t feel worthy of taking time for myself.

    I realized I no longer knew who I was. I had become everything to everyone and there was no space for me. I felt empty and defeated. I had exchanged every last piece of me to fulfill the roles that were prescribed to a woman of my age. 

    This was a shocking realization, as I’m a self-proclaimed feminist. I spent most of my life keenly aware of the loss of identity that mothers often face once they have children. I didn’t want kids for that exact reason. When I met my partner, that piece changed, but I was dead set on making sure I didn’t lose myself in the process.

    It’s funny how that works. You can be acutely aware of what you don’t want in life and still end up smack dab in the middle of the exact situation you swore would never happen to you.

    When I thought of work/life balance I always thought of it as making sure I was showing up as a career woman and mother in the most balanced way possible. But where was the room for me in that?  Where did my needs and desires come into play?

    After treatment, I began working with a life coach in addition to continuing to take care of my mental health (it’s important to note that life coaches are not medical professionals). In working with my coach, I was able to integrate more of myself into my day and reconnect with my needs and desires.

    I was held, supported, and cared for, and that empowered me to care for myself and feel worthy of taking up more space in my life.

    I took the time to reconnect with who I was before I became a parent, and I brought that version of me into the fold.

    I created a list of non-negotiables that I would implement in my daily life. For instance, I go for a walk daily. No matter what. Movement is a literal life saver for my mental wellness. It doesn’t matter what is going on at home. It’s happening. And, I do it guilt-free!

    I also keep a journal by my bedside. Every night, before I lay my head down on the pillow, I write out what I got “right” that day. It’s so easy to focus on all the ways I came up short that day. For me, my mind defaults on the negative, so having to come up with a list of at least three ways I showed up for myself is a powerful way to end my night thinking of the positive.

    Do I think that we can do all of the things all of the time? Absolutely not. I feel work/life balance is a bit misleading. I don’t think we can evenly split work, life, and self-care. One will constantly outweigh the other, even if just by a small margin.

    But what we can do is try our best to fulfill our needs and desires so that we can show up for each aspect of our life as grounded in our authenticity as possible. If we can remain grounded, we can remain fully present. And for me, being fully present is balance.

  • Free Thich Nhat Hanh Audio Series: Living Without Stress or Fear

    Free Thich Nhat Hanh Audio Series: Living Without Stress or Fear

    When you think of the teachers who’ve had the greatest impact on your life, who comes to mind?

    For me, it’s the calm, the humble, the patient—the people who not only imparted useful life lessons but also embodied their message with their grace and equanimity. People I was fortunate enough to know personally, like my grandmother, and others I never met that brought me clarity and peace from afar, like the inimitable Thich Nhat Hanh.

    Thay, as his students called him, was a Vietnamese Zen monk, author, poet, peacemaker, and founder of the “engaged Buddhism” movement—the act of leveraging our personal healing to help transform the world.

    Known as the “father of mindfulness,” Thay had a gift for helping others liberate themselves from their afflictions and find joy in the present.

    His message was simple: that mindfulness, practiced in both the ordinary moments and the extraordinarily hard ones, can help us understand the roots of our suffering and transform our pain. And that this is the key to serving others—because we can only help the people around us if we first help ourselves.

    Whether you’re already familiar with Thay’s teachings or you’re looking for new tools to help free your mind, I have a feeling you’ll appreciate this free gift from Sounds True: Living Without Stress or Fear, an audio series of Thich Nhat Hanh dharma talks.

    May his words soothe you, support you, and help you find peace so you can help bring peace to the world.

    I leave you with ten of my favorite Thich Nhat Hanh quotes:

    “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or possession—we cannot be free.”

    “I come here empty-handed, and I go empty-handed. My actions are my only true belongings.”

    “Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.”

    “To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.”

    “We have more possibilities available in each moment than we realize.”

    “Our notions about happiness entrap us. We forget that they are just ideas. Our idea of happiness can prevent us from actually being happy. We fail to see the opportunity for joy that is right in front of us when we are caught in a belief that happiness should take a particular form.”

    “Even though things are not as we would like, we can still be content, knowing we are trying our best and will continue to do so.”

    “Hope is important because it can make the present moment less difficult to bear. If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today.”

    “There is the mud, and there is the lotus that grows out of the mud. We need the mud in order to make the lotus.”

    “If you take a handful of salt and pour it into a small bowl of water, the water in the bowl will be too salty to drink. But if you pour the same amount of salt into a large river, people will still be able to drink the river’s water. If your heart is small, one unjust word or act will make you suffer. But if your heart is large, if you have understanding and compassion, that word or deed will not have the power to make you suffer.”

  • How Befriending My Anxiety and Depression Helped Ease My Pain

    How Befriending My Anxiety and Depression Helped Ease My Pain

    “‘What should I do?’ I asked myself. ‘Spend another two miserable years like this? Or should I truly welcome my panic?’ I decided to really let go of wanting to block, get rid of, or fight it. I would finally learn how to live with it, and to use it as support for my meditation and awareness. I welcomed it for real. What began to happen was that the panic was suspended in awareness. On the surface level was panic, but beneath it was awareness, holding it. This is because the vital first step to breaking the cycle of the anxious mind is to connect to awareness.” ~Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche

    I have suffered with anxiety and depression for at least fifteen years. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t. They both almost killed me, but I have learned that living with them, rather than fighting them, is far more fortuitous in bringing relief.

    Fortunately, at no stage did I act on suicidal thoughts, but I would be a liar if I said I never had them. Not in terms of making plans, but the general idea did creep up on me, and for a while it was all-consuming. I also reached a stage where I didn’t care if I died.

    Alcohol became a crutch and, in a strange way, beer actually may have been responsible for saving my life. The one day I ever seriously had intentions of ending everything, I walked past a pub after leaving work, went in, and proceeded to get exceedingly drunk. I reached a stage where I was incapable of doing anything worse to myself, and my inebriated state led to my wife telling me I needed to get urgent help.

    Trying to put my finger on precisely why I started feeling anxious and depressed would be like trying to pick up mercury with a fork. It would be equally impossible to pinpoint at what age I began to suffer. I think I was always a worrier, even from early childhood.

    In many ways I had a blessed upbringing. I had loving parents; we weren’t a wealthy family, but we didn’t struggle either. There was always enough food, and I was warm, clothed, and felt cherished.

    That said, things weren’t perfect, as my dad worked away from home a lot. He did it to provide for his family, us; I am proud of him and in no way resentful. It did leave a hole in the home, though, and put a lot of extra responsibility on my mum, and maybe I have separation issues as a result.

    My parents had high standards when it came to behavior. I recognize this now as having made me the person I am today. They gave me strong principles, for which I am grateful.

    It wasn’t always easy to live up to my mum and dad’s expectations, though. I remember being stressed quite often about this and having a fear of being shouted at. In comparison with what some children sadly have to tolerate, I feel a little silly saying that, but I’m trying to give an explanation for my anxiety in later life.

    Bullying was also an unwelcome companion throughout my childhood. Ridiculing, name-calling, and physical abuse all left their indelible mark. I can clearly remember the indignity of being drowned in another, older, bigger, stronger child’s spit.

    The main focus of my tormentors was that I was “ugly”, “nobody would ever fancy me,” and that I would “never find a girlfriend.” I managed to disprove all three as an adult. Well, maybe I am “ugly,” but, frankly, as a happily married man, as long as my wife doesn’t think I am, I’m not sure it matters all that much.

    What does matter, though, are the scars this taunting left. I’ve never really regained my confidence after them. I’m not sure I can, and they cause me to be hard with myself, leading to anxious and depressed thinking.

    Maybe it was the bullying that really fed my depression and anxiety. I’ve been the victim of domineering, abusive behavior as an adult too, and there is a fragility inside me when faced with such onslaughts. I also have a very keen idea of justice and don’t enjoy seeing it being compromised.

    Notwithstanding, I have never felt able to definitely put my finger on bullying as the cause of my, at times, poor mental health. Without the ability to do that, I believe I’m destined for anxiety and depression to be lifelong companions. That may sound defeatist, but my reality isn’t as gloomy as that last sentence might suggest, and the reason for this is something I can definitely point to.

    GPs treated me for years for depression and made no mention of anxiety. The day following my escapism from suicidal thoughts through inebriation, my wife made me go to the A&E Department at our local hospital. There, finally, a doctor listened attentively, made a first, tentative diagnosis of anxiety leading into depression, and suggested things I could do alongside taking medication to aid real recovery.

    Of all the advice that medic gave me, the suggestion that has been most instrumental in regaining my health was to meditate. I’d dismissed meditation in the past as “hocus pocus,” laughing at and pouring scorn on it. Something in me reacted positively to the suggestion that day, and I am eternally grateful for that.

    The hospital, among other things, gave me a list of places where I could find helpful tools for meditating. Apps, recordings, videos. I decided I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I started following their guidance.

    I burned through the resources the doctor gave me within a few days. That was enough to convince me that this could really help. I still felt anxious and depressed, but for the period of time while I meditated I got, for the first time in years, a real sense of relief that wasn’t alcohol-fueled.

    Unsure of where else I could find guided meditations, something triggered in my brain and a thought emerged: “I am sure Buddhism has something to do with meditating.” I went onto YouTube and typed in “Buddhist meditation” and got a huge number of results. So began my real journey with mindfulness practice.

    Meditation didn’t miraculously cure my anxiety and depression. As I said, I still live with them. But it offered a glimmer of light through which I felt certain I could better learn to cope and give a quality to my life that had been missing for years.

    I can’t say specifically how meditation has changed things for me. I just know it has. I have read that the brain is plastic. That it can develop and change over time. The idea that activities like meditation help develop new, healthier, neural pathways makes sense to me. It’s almost as if the change has happened subconsciously. What I do know is that, as a result of meditating regularly, I’m calmer and better able to deal with crises than I had previously been.

    As I made meditating a daily practice, I began looking more into Buddhist philosophies. They are what worked for me and it is eminently possible to get the same benefits from other philosophical teachings, both religious and not. One idea I hit on was the concept of not fighting negative emotions but rather befriending them.

    This sounds counter-intuitive. When we get a feeling we don’t like, whether it be anxiety, depression, or anything else uncomfortable, we naturally want to run from it. This only strengthens the emotion, though, and does nothing to relieve it.

    Perhaps that’s why people get locked in cycles of negativity. They fight the uncomfortable feeling, thereby strengthening it, so they fight it all the more. Round and round goes the vicious circle.

    Instead, by accepting the emotion, letting it be, and recognizing that the feeling isn’t inherently wrong, that it’s just a sensation, it somehow softens it.

    The first person I ever heard talking about this process was Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche whose quote I have cited above. He often speaks about how revelatory it was for his panic attacks, and so it has proven to be for me with my anxiety and depression.

    It was this charming, charismatic Nepalese Buddhist who got me hooked on meditation. I specifically remember the moment I found his video “A Guided Meditation on the Body, Space, and Awareness with Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche,” on YouTube. With his gentle and humorous approach, I could almost feel his arms holding me as he guided me through the process. Despite meditating daily for the last four years, I still return to this video when I feel I need to get back to basics.

    The belief that somehow anxiety and depression will up sticks and leave me is not something I possess. However, they don’t frighten me anymore, and I have learned to cope with them. I would wish them “good riddance” if they did pack their bags and go, but they don’t dominate me anymore. I live with them and they aren’t going to prevent me from enjoying a positive existence.

    There is a wealth of resources available online that both talk through this novel concept and provide guided meditations on it. Some are religious or spiritual, though plenty of others are purely secular. It is an idea that can be used by anyone in whatever format they wish.

    My life has changed because of these few, simple practices. I’m more content than I can ever remember being and like to think of this transformation as proof that anyone who suffers similarly can regain happiness. I would be lying if I said it isn’t hard work, or that there aren’t periods that are more difficult than others, but it is so worth it.

    As a result of these improvements, I was able to kick my alcohol habit over three years ago, something that has also benefitted my mental health. Again, I found I felt better from not drinking, but this is not to say that being teetotal is an elixir for wellness. Plenty of people find a beer or a glass of wine actually helps how they feel, and if this is you, go for it.

    This article is not prescriptive. I don’t believe anyone can offer a recipe for wellness, as it is dependent on the individual, and I strongly doubt that two people would ever find that what works for one, works exactly the same for the other. If the above text offers hope and nothing else, the writing of it will have been worthwhile.

  • How I’m Honoring My Values Even Though I Have Conflicting Priorities

    How I’m Honoring My Values Even Though I Have Conflicting Priorities

    “No matter what kind of stuff you tell the world, or tell yourself, your actions reveal your real values. Your actions show you what you actually want.” ~Derek Sivers

    I need to be a productivity rockstar if I stand a chance of accomplishing everything important to me.

    There’s a book I want to write, a course I want to create, and a chance to work with an award-winning author that has given me endless projects I want to pursue.

    These are exciting, but they’re creating a ton of anxiety in my life.

    Why?

    Because they’re at odds with being the kind of dad I want to be.

    Time is your most valuable resource as an entrepreneur.

    Time is also your most valuable resource as a present, attentive, and loving parent.

    When I look at the progress I’m making on my work projects, I can’t help but feel like a failure at the end of the week.

    It feels like I’m slacking.

    It feels like I’m being lazy.

    I’ve worked my ass off to get to this point, and now I’m letting it slip through my fingers.

    But what’s most important to me?

    My daughter, Willow.

    It’s a harsh realization to wrestle with because I find my work meaningful. My work gives me purpose. I don’t have some bullshit job I don’t care about anymore. I wake up feeling like I have something to offer the world. That feels light years away from the guy who didn’t care if he lived or died in his twenties.

    I’m not failing to get things done because I’m lazy. I say this, but holy hell, is it ever hard for me to internalize. I feel like a failure for not making progress on opportunities I would have killed for a few years ago.

    Except I’m not experiencing failure, am I?

    I’m experiencing what it means to battle with the beast that is priorities.

    I might not be crushing it as an entrepreneur, but I’m damn proud of the dad I am.

    And even though I feel like I “should” be doing more with my business, it’s not predictive of what I’ll be able to do in the future.

    Willow won’t be a kid forever.

    Whenever I read a particular Cherokee proverb, it stings with the bite of a rattlesnake because it serves as a reminder of what steals my happiness: “Don’t let yesterday eat up too much of today.” It speaks to where I find myself when I drift back into feeling like I’ll never be productive again.

    Whenever I start thinking about what I was able to accomplish in the past and how little it feels like I’ve done since becoming a father, it reminds me that my priorities are different now. But it’s also bringing about a shift in what I think it means to accomplish something with my day.

    Every day we go in and out of emotions based on the thoughts consuming us. Focusing on what we can’t do creates hopelessness; when we focus on what we can do, it creates motivation and a sense that the world is full of possibility. This is why our emotions are such a rollercoaster.

    It wasn’t until I noticed that I was putting entrepreneurship and being a dad at odds that I recognized I was the one creating the painful emotions I was struggling with.

    The better I can learn to manage my fears rather than react to what scares me, the better I can handle these moments when I feel feel like I’m a failure.

    My fear is justified. It makes sense that I’m fearful that I won’t be able to support my family if the business disappears.

    But is the fear based on fact? Not at all.

    All of my clients have expressed that they love working with me. The author I mentioned before said one of the things she admires about me most is my willingness to live true to my values.

    It’s okay to be fearful. It’s a natural part of life that keeps us alive. But if we don’t bring awareness to our fearful thought patterns, they will continue to haunt us.

    If I don’t admit that I have competing priorities, I can’t possibly expect to experience peace of mind in either area of my life. And calmness is the elixir that makes me a creative, innovative entrepreneur and a present and engaged dad. A far cry from the stress case focused on expectations and outcomes, putting me in a position to base my worth on how busy I am.

    We’re all farmers in the business of planting seeds. The more pressure we put on growth, the less we’ll see development because we’ll be too anxious to do anything effectively—and we also won’t enjoy any of it. We’ll be so busy worrying about our wants for the future that it will be impossible to appreciate what we have in the present.

    It’s a life-changing approach for work and an even more powerful way to parent when we remove the pressure of outcomes tied to a timeline. The results you experience in either area are far less important than the commitment to fully showing up, aligned with what you value. Then we’re not racing and stressing but creating a sustainable approach that honors all the things that give us a meaningful life.

  • How to Mindfully Temper Road Rage and Make Driving Less Stressful

    How to Mindfully Temper Road Rage and Make Driving Less Stressful

    “Smile, breathe, and go slowly.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    As a Lyft driver, I once spent significant time out on the road—a setting rife with provocations and stressors.

    Driving can feel like a constant challenge to employ mindfulness instead of giving way to destructive emotions like impatience and frustration. Meditation can be difficult to practice when you’re navigating a vehicle (demanding as both activities are of your full attention)—try channeling all your senses into it, and you’ll likely plow over a pedestrian or end with your car in a ditch.

    Navigating the road mindfully, though, doesn’t have to mean closing your eyes or adopting any of the other classic “meditative” stances. I think it involves something simpler: momentary detachment—both from everything that’s happening around you and from your own internal reactions as you watch from an ever so slight distance while they ebb and flow.

    Here’s some of what I’ve learned about maintaining equanimity when out there on the stress-inducing road.

    The importance of keeping in mind that sometimes there’s something we’re not seeing.

    Driving down Market Street through downtown SF, I once noticed a number of pedestrians stopped inside the crosswalk in the middle of the street. They didn’t have the right of way; the light was red for them and green for us drivers who were trying to get through. Cars were honking.

    For maybe a second my impulse was to add to the honk melee. Then I took a closer look and saw what was actually going on: a lady had dropped her bags, causing their contents to spill to the pavement. The people in the street were passersby who had run to help her pick them up.

    Once they were finished, I noticed how they stood and raised their hands in apologetic gestures [to the perturbed honkers] that seemed to say both “Just wait one minute please” and “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

    Witnessing this got me thinking about how often in this fast-paced world we jump to reactivity before even understanding what’s going on first. We’re especially primed to do this out on the road, I think.

    As Shankar Vedantam said on his podcast Hidden Brain, “This woman didn’t bump into you maliciously; she’s blind. This soldier standing in formation didn’t pass out because he doesn’t have what it takes; he’s diabetic and needs his insulin. This woman isn’t heartless because she didn’t help the elderly person who had fallen; she’s paralyzed from a spinal cord injury.”

    Often in life, crucial pieces of a larger whole are unavailable to us—yet sometimes we act or respond as if under the assumption that we have access to all of them.

    Particularly when a driver in front of me is moving very slowly, or randomly stops, I sometimes feel the impulse to honk. I wonder why they’re being “so inconsiderate.” I ask them, in my head, if they’ve forgotten where the gas pedal is located. My immediate instinct is to cast blame on whoever’s holding me up.

    Yet I have to remind myself that I’m missing information. Maybe the driver in front of me is stopping to let someone cross the street. Maybe there’s a red light in front of us that I can’t see. Maybe… [insert any other number of possibilities here].

    I can’t see any of that though.

    I’ve also been on the receiving end; for instance when I stop to let a baby animal cross the road. Unable to see the road-obstructing animal, the cars behind me get annoyed and honk their disapproval.

    Willingness to admit when I am wrong (similar to the point above).

    Once when driving home across the Richmond Bridge, I thought there were only two lanes, which led me to assume that the guy next to me was cheating by driving along the shoulder.

    In response, my mind wove an entire narrative involving an entitled driver that does whatever he wants—weaves in and out, causing near collisions; uses the shoulder as his own lane, so that he can accelerate past the mass of stopped cars before cheating his way back into the pack once he’s gained a clear edge.

    To the driver he has endangered [through this behavior], who has responded by honking, he says, “Why don’t they just chill out?”

    I pictured the people out there who engage in similar behavior when not in their cars. The ones with blinders on to their own actions, who maybe call out others for “being too sensitive” while refusing to acknowledge their contribution to eliciting this supposedly sensitive response from them.

    Outraged, I honked at the driver—yet he kept driving along the “shoulder.” I shot him a look of disbelief; he didn’t look back. He seemed to not have even registered that my honk was directed toward him.

    That’s when I realized why: the “shoulder” was actually a legitimate lane.

    Remembering I’ve been wrong in the past helps me practice equanimity when I’m tempted to get outraged on the road.

    Practice forgiving mistakes.

    I think about those cars that get stranded in the middle of the intersection during high-traffic hours—usually because the light turned red when they were halfway through it. I think about how the cars around them often unleash an ambush of honks to signal their disapproval.

    I say this to myself when I’m about to become an angry honker: The trapped driver made a mistake. He or she is probably already aware. Your honk won’t teach him something he doesn’t already know.

    I realize that all my honk would have added was more noise to an already overly raucous road, compounding the driver’s shame while maintaining my own stress and self-righteousness.

    On somewhat of a side note, I’ve noticed how at times the most reckless drivers can also be some of the most intolerant of other drivers’ mistakes. One time a man who’d been driving eighty on a commercial street seemed very disgruntled when I changed into his lane (even though my doing this wouldn’t have been a “near miss” to someone who’d been following the speed limit).

    First he slammed the brakes. Then he wove theatrically around me into the lane next to us. From there he proceeded to change lanes three more times in the course of one block, dodging cars like they were opponents in a high-speed chase video game.

    If we can remember we all make mistakes, it will be easier to offer other drivers grace.

    Practice gratitude. When you do have a smooth ride, acknowledge it to yourself. Hold onto that moment and remember how it felt.

    A metaphor comes to mind each time I drive over a trafficless bay bridge (which happens very rarely but when it does, feels magical). Cruising over the smooth pavement without a car in sight conjures a wintery, white Christmas feeling.

    This calming and cleansing sight contrasts starkly with the default state of the freeway: normally a long stretch of cars, constant reminders of overpopulation and limited resources. It feels similar to gliding down a ski slope when the snow is fresh, pristine, newly plowed, and un-scuffed by other skiers.

    I made a note to be grateful for it.

    Even machines like Siri can be recipient to your gratitude. When traffic clogs the freeway, for example, I appreciate how she escorts me onto an alternative route. On one, we drove down bucolic side roads past fields of sunflowers while country music played from my car speakers (and bugs splattered against the windshield). On another, a river gushed a few feet away from us, providing a peaceful backdrop both visually and auditorily.

    Don’t force it, but when a moment that might be worthy of some gratitude does present itself, register it (even if it’s extended toward an inanimate object). Acknowledge it, if only to yourself.

    Humanize the other drivers around you.

    I think part of what exacerbates and heightens road rage is the ease with which we’re able to dehumanize the drivers we’re sharing the road with because we see cars first, people second. Attuning to certain visual cues, though, can reinstate a human component.

    I’ve found that making eye contact with another driver can at times quell any road rage that’s starting to bubble on my end. Other little things, like keeping my corgi stuffed animal visible, also help (when drivers get mad, the sight may calm them).

    One time when driving, I came upon a car stopped in the middle of the road. Just as I was about to get annoyed at the hindrance, a little Latino boy eating an apricot stuck his head out the car window. Juice dribbled down his chin while he waited for his dad to fix their car (which was why they were stopped). The innocent sight instantly calmed me. It was almost Hallmark-card level of sweet and centering.

    Another “tempering” visual cue: when a dog sticks its head out the window to feel the breeze against its face. Irritation was beginning to mount one day when I saw them: those big, brown eyes—opened wide, earnest, and slightly damp—shining above a golden snout in the back window.

    Once again I was calmed, my anxiety diffused by our eye contact—reminded that we’re are all flesh and bone, even when stress pushes us to reduce each other to the metal contraptions we cart ourselves around inside of.

    Take your time, Sir. I’m just going to have a moment with your sweet fur baby in the meantime, if that’s okay…

    In the absence of visual cues, use your imagination.

    Whenever I start to feel impatient with the slow driver in front of me, but I can’t see their face (or no other visual cues are present to temper the impatience), I take a deep breath. Then I gently counsel myself to envision the human inside the car.

    The specifics of whichever person pops into my head don’t really matter. What matters is that I recognize their humanity and extend patience toward whoever does.

    If that doesn’t work, try picturing one of your family members. What if the driver was your uncle, or your kind elderly neighbor, or your mom? Use your imagination to see inside the 2,000 pound metal machine that’s obstructing your path. Draw features onto the faceless foe inside it. De-objectify its operator.

    —

    Driving and traffic can be stressful and draining. During the times when it feels like the surrounding cars and I are basically just crawling to our destination, I feel like I might as well be outside the car, pulling it with a rope—at least that way I’d get some exercise and Vitamin D.

    Sometimes I wish someone would invent a car feature that would allow the driver to switch to “pedal mode.” It’d be a great way to release endorphins through exercise (thereby reducing stress levels) during these inherently stressful situations.

    Until those innovations get brought into existence, though, we can work on controlling our own internal responses to whatever external road frustrations come our way.

  • The Difference Between Easy and Hard Self-Care and Why Both Matter

    The Difference Between Easy and Hard Self-Care and Why Both Matter

    “Sometimes you’ve got to look straight into the tired eyes of the woman staring back at you in the mirror and tell her that she deserves the best kind of love, the best kind of life, and devote yourself to giving it to her all over again.” ~S.C. Lourie

    Self-care. An important concept that has become a buzzword. What does it mean? The answer… that depends on you. Google and you will find lists, articles, and suggestions for self-care tasks. These can be helpful as inspiration, but self-care is something that’s unique to you.

    I work in suicide prevention and mental health promotion. I talk about self-care a lot. I encourage others to engage in self-care regularly. I have them make lists with self-care tasks that are meaningful to them. You’d imagine I’d be an expert in self-care. Am I?  No. But I’m working on it. And I’m way better than I used to be.

    How did I get better? I started doing the hard self-care.

    What’s the difference between easy and hard self-care?

    Easy self-care for me is things like a hot bath or shower. Hiking with my family on the weekends. Texting my sister about daily frustrations. Baking sourdough. Practicing meditation.

    The easy self-care is doing the things that fill your bucket, the things you make time for without excuses and that make you feel better in the moment.

    This is the first type of self-care I focused on when I was feeling burnt out. Most of my twenties consisted of my working several jobs at a time, filling my unpaid time with volunteer work and seeing friends, going out, staying so busy that I didn’t realize I was worn out. I was known to use the mantra “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

    It was when my thirties hit that the mantra started to feel too real.

    I had my first child at thirty and my second child at thirty-four, and the go-go-go lifestyle started catching up to me. Working full-time, volunteering, seeing friends, never saying no, and staying busy hit different with two kids and a partner who worked shifts.

    I was tired—all the time. The kind of tired that sleep doesn’t touch. The kind of tired that had me sobbing at the dinner table because I didn’t know where I’d find the energy to do the bedtime routine. The kind of tired that had me begging my doctor for tests and wishing he would find something wrong so that I could fix whatever was sucking my energy.

    I was getting strep throat every other month. I was having stomach issues. I was burnt out and not well.  I would be so exhausted that I didn’t have energy for my kids at the end of the workday. The kind of exhausted that no number of hot showers or meditation was fixing.

    I had been to my doctor several times in eight years, explaining my symptoms, and was turned away with the rationale that I had young kids; I should expect to be tired.

    At some point, I decided that this was unacceptable. I declared 2019 to be the year of health for myself and booked an appointment with a naturopath. In my first appointment, she asked me to rate my energy levels on average each day from a scale of one to ten.

    I told her that on average, my energy levels were at a two, but sometimes I would be a three on a good day.

    She looked at me in shock and clarified: “You are a two on average, on a daily basis?”

    I said, “Yes.”

    She told me, “Honey, this is not normal.”

    I burst into tears: I felt validated; I felt seen and not ignored. Fast forward to a few rounds of bloodwork, and I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, which explained many of the symptoms I had been struggling with, including the crushing fatigue that left me in tears most days.

    This is where the hard self-care kicked in. Hot baths, meditation, baking sourdough—all things that continue to fill my bucket and that help me to feel better—were important. But the self-care I needed to feel better in the long run, to have energy for my family, to live life instead of getting through life—the hard stuff—this is where I shifted.

    Knowing that I could make changes to how I was taking care of myself was empowering. I finally felt like I had some control over how I was feeling. And shifting my perspective to see this as a part of self-care helped me to prioritize the hard stuff.

    Advocating to my healthcare providers, changing my diet and how I exercise, changing how I rest and recharge my body, setting boundaries, choosing what I use my energy for—these are necessary choices to alter my symptoms and help me to feel better, but they do not come easily for me. Yet, they are all a part of my own self-care. If I wanted to feel well, I needed to start doing these things—and continue to do them if I wanted to continue feeling better.

    And I do feel better. I am now on thyroid medication. I know that dairy makes me feel not great. I can now feel when I’m going into a Hashimoto’s flare, and I know when I need to rest more.

    I know what exercise is helpful for me, and what makes me feel worse.

    I am honest with my partner when I need him to take on more so I can rest.

    I know the difference in my body when I am tired vs. fatigued, and I can take action for both of those feelings.

    Doing the hard self-care over the last three years has been worth the work for how I feel overall.  

    The hard self-care will likely always be something that I’m working on. Some of the hardest things have become much easier as I practice them.

    I’m much more likely to advocate for my health with my doctor than I was three years ago. I am much more confident to set boundaries at work with my hours and my capacity. I am much better at listening to my body and accepting the need for rest.

    I still have internal arguments with myself in terms of pushing myself to be productive (my trick is writing “rest” on my to-do list—it helps me reframe rest as productive instead of lazy!), but where I am now is vastly different from where I was just a few years ago.

    When I talk to others about self-care, I encourage them to think about the self-care that’s easy for them, and to also consider the harder self-care. Both are important and necessary to make sure you are honoring yourself.

    How?

    Start today.

    1. Think of one easy self-care task you can do right now (or today) that fills your bucket, and will help you to feel good, or better, in this moment.

    2. Think of one hard self-care task that you want to take on. It could be something like making an appointment you’ve been putting off or considering how to set a boundary that’s been difficult for you. It could even be something like drinking more water—that can be so difficult for some people, while it sounds easy.

    3. Be kind to yourself. Know that everyone’s journey is different. What’s hard for you might be easy for others, and vice versa. Self-care is individual, and some of us have privilege to prioritize self-care in some ways that others do not.

    It might not be easy, but you will start to see how things can start to change when you put yourself on your to-do list.

  • Alone Doesn’t Have to Mean Lonely: How to Be Happy by Yourself

    Alone Doesn’t Have to Mean Lonely: How to Be Happy by Yourself

    “Sometimes, you need to be alone. Not to be lonely, but to enjoy your free time being yourself.” ~Unknown

    First, let’s be clear, being alone is different than feeling lonely. The feeling of loneliness can arise even if you are not alone, or you can be alone and not feel lonely. It all comes down to the meaning your mind creates at that moment in time.

    In my twenties being alone was something so triggering that I would find any distractions I could come up with to avoid it: partying, unhealthy relationships, constantly being on the go and busy… Being alone meant not being good enough—not good enough to have friends, not good enough to be in a relationship, not good enough to be loved…

    I have learned over the years to truly enjoy my own company and now find being alone rejuvenating—most of the time. However, during the time of isolation and disconnection we have all lived in the past couple years, my old patterns and limiting beliefs around being alone have brought back that old, familiar discomfort with solitude on a couple of occasions.

    Even if you’ve gotten to a point where you enjoy being alone most of the time, solitude can trigger some discomfort. Let’s explore ways to stop the mind from creating unnecessary pain, and learn how to enjoy being alone in those triggering moments.

    1. Honor those feelings.

    First and foremost, listen to what is happening within. As soon as you feel that a situation triggers difficult emotions (sadness, discomfort, anxiety…), take a breath and observe what the trigger was.

    Maybe you came home from work to an empty apartment. Maybe you saw a happy family on the street, and you are going through a divorce. Maybe you spent some time on social media and saw families reunited for holidays, whereas you are away from family.

    2. Do not distract yourself.

    Take a breath and choose not to turn to whatever habits you might have developed to distract yourself from those uncomfortable feelings. Maybe you tend to open the fridge and eat, maybe you tend to turn on your mobile phone and scroll on social media, maybe you numb with alcohol, TV, or anything else.

    Just pause.

    Take a breath. Or two. Or three.

    3. Trust.

    Trust that you can handle the emotions that are there to be felt.

    Observe the emotions’ flow, the movement of energy, with no resistance. Observe with curiosity and kindness the sensations within the body. Where are they located? Do they have a certain texture or color? What type of sensations arise? Tightness? Contraction? Sweating? Your heart beating faster?

    4. Observe the thoughts and beliefs that make the feeling worse.

    Observe where you mind goes.

    Maybe you equate being alone with being miserable.

    Maybe you think being alone means “nobody loves me.”

    Maybe you equate being alone with being a failure or a burden.

    Maybe you think being alone means “I will always be alone.”

    As I mentioned before, I associated being alone with not being good enough.

    All our beliefs come from what we’ve experienced or learned in the past. Maybe your grandmother was alone and perceived as a burden because everyone had to take care of her. Maybe in your family there was a big emphasis on being social, outgoing, and fun, going out and having friends around, and being alone meant being some type of loser.

    Maybe your expectations are coming from the culture of the society you live in, expecting you to be married, having kids; and if this is not the model you are living, you might feel disappointed or you might think others might be.

    Maybe it’s the optics that bother you most. “What would people think if I spend New Year’s Eve alone? What would people think if I am not married by thirty-five?”

    5. Reframe what being alone means to you.

    Once you observe those thoughts and beliefs and the negative impact they have on your state of being, give yourself permission to choose different beliefs.

    Are those beliefs absolute truth? Or are they a construct of your mind and society? Are those constructs serving you well? Do you know someone who is single and happy? Do you know someone who chose to be alone for New Year’s Eve and enjoyed it? Are any of your single friends happy and free? Don’t you long sometimes to be alone, quiet, at peace

    Are you ready to let go of those beliefs? If so, take a breath and make the decision that those beliefs are gone for good. Visualize them dissipating into the air as you breathe out.

    Maybe reframe being alone as being free. Doing anything you would like to do, when you want to do it. Maybe being alone means being strong and independent.

    Maybe being alone means being quiet, being at peace. Maybe being alone is simply giving yourself time to rest and rejuvenate.

    The truth is that being alone only has the meaning you create for it, so choose a better belief. A belief that serves you right here, right now.

    6. Do more of the things that energize you.

    Now that you’re not attaching a meaning to being alone, learn to enjoy your own company by doing things you love to do, on your own.

    • Go for a walk in nature. Nature has a way of bringing you back to your true self, your natural self, to a state of balance and peace. Nature is non-judgmental. Nature is beautiful. And you are nature. So spend time outside. In winter, in summer, on a rainy or sunny day. Breathe, look, observe, feel.
    • Read an inspiring book from one of your favorite authors or spiritual teachers.
    • Listen to the music you love and give yourself permission to dance.
    • find a guided meditation that you truly enjoy and cultivate a peaceful, elevated state of being.
    • Move your body. Yoga is one of my favorites because it is a full mind-body-spirit practice, but anything from rock climbing to dancing could work—or any type of exercise you enjoy. Get the energy flowing.
    • Sign up for something you always wanted to do or learn, online or offline, like painting classes or singing lessons.

    Being alone doesn’t have to mean being lonely if you stop judging yourself and let yourself enjoy your solitude.

  • How Our Self-Talk and Language Can Sabotage or Support Us

    How Our Self-Talk and Language Can Sabotage or Support Us

    “Today I want you to think about all that you are instead of all that you are not.” ~Unknown

    “Love the pinecones!”

    This was a comment from a friend on one of my Facebook photos from a beautiful seaside hike filled with wildflowers and other natural wonders.

    When I responded with “It was a puzzle figuring out how to best photograph them” (not what I originally planned to write), she wrote, “Gregg, that’s such a fun part, isn’t it?” That comment was the brightening of a bulb that had already been going off in my head. It led to deeper self-reflection and awareness around my own self-talk patterns.

    We’ve all heard that how we speak to ourselves has a huge impact on our life. If your self-talk is largely negative, it lowers your self-confidence, drive, creativity, spirit, and enthusiasm for life. In short, it limits your self-expression and access to joy. If your self-talk is compassionate, understanding, and loving, it helps you to move through your life with much greater flow and ease.

    There are the more obvious ways negative language patterns show up, and then there are more hidden, subtle, or unconscious ways. Amongst the more obvious are the habitual ways we berate ourselves or call ourselves names.

    For example, if you are making dinner and just as you finish you knock the whole thing on the floor, how might you respond? It makes total sense to be upset or disappointed, but how does that upset manifest within you?

    Perhaps you think, “Geez, I’m such an idiot!” or “I’m so stupid!” If so, rather than simply expressing your disappointment over the action or result, you are taking one moment in your life and using that to malign yourself at your core.

    Even calling yourself clumsy can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe you feel it’s actually true. Perhaps others have told you that as well. The thing is, whatever we choose to tell ourselves, whether unkind or gracious, our brain looks for ways to prove those thoughts are true.

    You can acknowledge a mistake, express frustration over an experience, or even decide you want to be more careful in the future, all without casting aspersions on yourself. Name-calling or harsh language directed at ourselves is an example of the more readily visible forms of self-talk. But what about those hidden or unconscious patterns?

    That kind of negative self-talk can be far more insidious and more prevalent than you may suspect. I know it was for me. It’s something I’ve been internally exploring lately and why I was struck with my friend’s comment on my post. Discovering the hidden ways I hold myself small has led to developing more empowering language that serves me on a daily basis.

    Though I was affected by ADD (attention deficit disorder) my whole life, it was not until I was in my forties that I was diagnosed. The first book I read on the topic and perhaps my favorite is called You Mean I’m Not Lazy, Stupid, or Crazy?

    I loved the lessons I got from the book and all that I learned about the workings of my brain. For several years, though, I felt at odds with the title. After all, I reasoned, I never spoke of myself in those pejorative terms. At least not that I was consciously aware of anyway.

    Over time, though, I realized there is a part of my brain that has been actively trying to prove I’m not those things. And if part of my brain is trying to prove I’m not that, then another part must in some way be telling me that I am lazy, crazy, or stupid. That’s when I decided it would be helpful to start consciously examining my unconscious patterns for the voice in my head.

    I’ve noticed my persistent stories of “I don’t know how” or “it will be too hard,” which have been a mantra in my head since childhood. I’ve long been mired in those stories, though they can show up in sneaky ways.  For example, if I see a picture of a place I’ve never been, I have a habit of thinking with melancholy “I’ve never been there” or even feeling jealousy or envy for the photographer.

    While it’s not wrong to have such thoughts, and it makes sense for them to come up from time to time, I noticed I was letting a beautiful photograph put me in a state of dissatisfaction, or even feeling sorry for myself. I was perpetuating limiting patterns of victim stories instead of empowering myself. I decided when I recognized that pattern to play with new thoughts.

    That might involve using that beautiful photograph of a place I’ve never been to remind myself of all the amazing places I have been. Or it might be feeling a sense of joy that such places exist or gratitude that others get to enjoy them.

    Or it could be as simple as thinking, “Oh that looks so interesting.” Or even “How do I get there?” That last one could be said with an air of resignation as a way of holding myself small and complaining, or it could be excitement over the possibility, all depending on how I choose to hold that thought.

    It’s not just the specific words we use but what meanings we ascribe to them that give them their energy and power. I’ve found it invaluable to notice my energy as well as the words I choose.

    With the Facebook exchange about my picture and the puzzle of figuring out how to best photograph the pinecones, my first thought was to write, “I was struggling to figure out how to photograph them.”

    But then I thought, “Why am I saying it that way?” I did not feel in struggle. Why would I want to frame it that way to myself or anyone else? So I altered the wording. That change definitely felt more empowered and certainly less stuck in victim mode. But again, it’s not just the words, but noticing the energy as well.

    Because depending on how I choose to hold it, “a puzzle” could be a game or it could be a chore. I was already leaning toward the more positive aspect but with residue from my initial thought of “struggle.”

    So when my friend chimed in with “Gregg, that’s such a fun part, isn’t it?”, I felt light, happy, and energized. And in all honesty, I initially felt a little bit of embarrassment too. Because it really highlighted for me the heavier energy I had been unconsciously creating over an experience I had thoroughly enjoyed.

    That awareness brought excitement for the deepening realization over the ways I can allow my word patterns to create disappointment and sadness or excitement and joy in my nervous system.

    It’s not just about whether we overtly beat ourselves up but what patterns we use. I’ve had a lot of unconscious patterns that have kept me in the mode of victim of the world rather than the creator of my life.

    It’s an awareness that I am continuing to deepen. As I do, I notice I feel more resilient, get stuck in negative emotions for shorter periods of time, and have more access to joy and aliveness. In an instant I can change how I feel just by the way I speak to and about myself.

    You can create that for yourself as well. Here are a few steps to do so. Outside of step one, they are not in chronological order and may even happen simultaneously.

    1. Start simply by slowing down and noticing your patterns.

    Do you berate yourself? Do you use words that feel untrue or create some kind of internal discord or discomfort that would not otherwise exist, as I had when I was going to use the word “struggle”? If so, explore how you can change those patterns and choose more empowering phrasing.

    This is not about denying that sometimes we do struggle or feel sad or have hard things happen. But you might find that your language actually influences your perception and your feelings about your circumstances. You can view the same situation as an obligation or an opportunity; it all depends on how you choose to see it and talk about it.

    2. Revise your word choice.

    On my journey of monitoring my patterns, I noticed that I’d write things like “I can’t figure out xyz” when, for example, I wrote to a company asking for technical support. The word “can’t” has such a disempowering connotation. So I started changing my word choice to things like, “I would like your help to figure out…” or “I would like to understand how to xyz.” This difference can seem subtle, but the impact on my psyche was immense.

    With the word “can’t” I was literally stating I’m incapable of something, whereas in the other two examples, I’m simply acknowledging information that I lack. Which of those feels more empowering to you?

    The language can seem new and uncomfortable or foreign at first. Perhaps you don’t feel sure how to make the shift. Again, the first step is simply to notice. The more awareness you create, the more your brain will automatically start looking for ways to shift toward your desired outcome.

    In the meantime, if you feel comfortable sharing your journey, you can ask a trusted friend, family member, or coach to point out disempowering language when you use it.

    3. Notice how your word choice affects your energy.

    In the example above about asking for technical support, I noticed how my habit of saying “I can’t figure out how to xyz” was subtly chipping away at my self-confidence. It kept me in a state of frustration and my energy small and insecure.

    Making the change to “I would like to understand how to xyz” felt more expansive. I was declaring a desire to make a change rather than declaring what I was not capable of. That feels more empowering in my nervous system, but still not with the aliveness I’d most desire. Now I’d say something more akin to “I’m learning your system” or “I’m gaining clarity around your system. Please explain to me how to xyz.”

    Sharing in that way, I’m speaking to my growth instead of declaring a deficit. In my body, that last one feels powerful and assertive while still asking for the support I need. What feels most powerful for you?

    4. Be kind and compassionate with yourself.

    Don’t expect perfection. Be compassionate with yourself. If you notice you’re reverting to old patterns, rather than berate yourself, use it as an opportunity to be excited. Because it means you are noticing. As in meditation, the idea is to notice your wandering thoughts and come back. Each time you notice you are creating an opportunity for new and more empowering patterns to flow.

    It can be like learning a foreign language. Because in a sense you are. And just like learning any new language can open up whole new avenues of possibility, this one will as well, releasing shame and self-judgment while brightening and uplifting your world.

    For myself, changing my hidden patterns has helped mitigate the impact of historical victim stories that I’ve held. I feel more empowered, with greater energy to achieve my goals. If you give it a try, I’d love to hear what you are noticing.

  • How I Stopped Feeling Sorry for Myself and Shifted from Victim to Survivor

    How I Stopped Feeling Sorry for Myself and Shifted from Victim to Survivor

    “When we deny our stories, they define us. When we own our stories, we get to write a brave new ending.” ~Brené Brown

    There was a time when I felt really sorry for myself. I had good reason to be. My life had been grim. There had been so much tragedy in my life from a young age. I had lost all my grandparents young, lived in a home with alcoholism and domestic abuse, and to top it all off, my dad killed himself.

    I could write you a long list of how life did me wrong. I threw myself a pity party daily in my thirties, with a load of food and wine. The story I was telling myself was that all this bad stuff had happened and I was unlucky in life and love. I told myself my life was doomed.

    I believed if there was a God, he must have hated me because everybody around me had a perfect-looking life compared to me.

    I felt like I was the only person who felt like this and couldn’t see any goodness in my life. I kept telling myself I was destined to be lonely and unfulfilled in my work life because I was just not good enough.

    I took care of others in my family to give myself purpose, but inside I loathed it. It made me bitter and resentful. I didn’t do these things because I wanted to. I did them because I felt like I had to.

    I thought this was who I was meant to be—the side act in everyone else’s story.

    My peers were moving on with their lives, getting married, having babies, and buying houses. I was stuck in my pity party, in the sadness of the past, unable to move on. I felt like I did as a child—powerless, out of control of my life, and sad.

    For as long as I could remember I felt anxiety and sadness. I would distract myself from these uncomfortable feelings with other people, TV, busyness, food, and later in life, alcohol.

    I was a victim in childhood and then I continued to live as a victim into my thirties, blaming everyone else and God for my poor start in life. I blamed myself as well. If only I was enough, then my life would better.

    There came a time when I couldn’t carry on the way I had been and had to take responsibility for my own life. My own story. It was time to get out of my own way. I was hitting rock bottom, and the time had come to either fight for my own happiness or follow the road my dad had taken.

    My life felt pointless, but I finally listened to a voice within me that told me there was a way forward and got out of my own way.

    This was the start of my spiritual and healing journey.

    It all started with a simple internet search on how to feel better—mind, body, and soul.

    Amongst the tips I found was the suggestion to practice daily gratitude. I started by writing down everything I had in that moment.

    For a long time, I focused on all I didn’t have rather than what I did. But I had so much—great friendships, travel, love, a well-paid job, a nice home, and so much more. I ignored all the good stuff and it robbed me of what I did have. The present moment. But now my eyes were opening to all the light in my life.

    I began to see and appreciate sunsets and sunrises. I looked for the good everywhere. Even in the darkness. I was searching for the light in every day. The more I looked the more I found.

    I practiced gratitude when I found new information and practices. Podcasts, books, teachers, healers, therapy, and so much more. The more I said thank you, the more good things I found.

    The story I was telling myself was changing.

    Then I added meditation and mindfulness to my daily routine and began hearing my intuition more.

    Before all I could hear was my fear, but this inner whisper was getting louder. Ideas would pop into my head like “I just don’t love myself,” and then I would see a quote from Louise Hay that resonated on social media. One led me to her book You Can Heal Your Life. I implemented the strategies in her book and then more tiny steps occurred to me in the quiet.

    I said thank you every single time. I felt more supported by myself and the universe and less like a victim in my story.

    The better I felt on the inside, the more opportunities I noticed.  I saw a job I liked advertised and rather than letting fear stop me, I listened to my intuition, which guided me “to just try.”

    In the past I would have ignored it and thought “I wish.” This time I just went for it. Just like that I left a toxic work environment for a job more aligned with my values, offering more money.

    I attracted better relationships and in time found love. After searching for more ways to feel good on the inside and change the way I saw my life and my world, I incorporated daily affirmations and walks in nature.

    My reality kept changing as I changed within.  

    Have you ever noticed how your body feels when you say, “My life is crap”? Your body contracts and you can almost feel the fear rising. But when you tell yourself, “There’s a lot of good in my life,” your body almost expands, and you can breathe.

    Our words have a profound impact on us. Changing that narrative we tell ourselves changes everything.

    The new information that I discovered through my personal quest helped me to understand my past. I found people like Gabor Maté who explained concepts such as intergenerational trauma and addiction. This information helped me change the story I told myself around my childhood. It helped me understand my trauma.

    I remember knowing from my intuition that my relationship with my dad needed my attention. Then I saw an advertisement for a new book, Father Therapy, by Doreen Virtue, which led me to inner child work. This helped me heal my younger self.

    As I continued my quest to heal and feel better, I found new healing modalities like breathwork, EFT (emotional freedom tapping technique), and eye movement techniques.

    I said thank you again and again and again.

    All those years I spent as a victim to my story kept me stuck and unable to move forward. But now I was ready to change and expressing gratitude for the process. More was always finding its way to me. I now had so many tools that I never knew existed in the depths of my pity party.

    It was not easy. I cried. Fear took over some days and I couldn’t access my intuition. But I would just start my quest again the next day, journaling to connect with myself and see what had happened the day before. What my feelings were and what I needed.

    I showed myself love and compassion for my bad days and celebrated the good ones. No longer was I a victim of childhood abuse but a powerful survivor.

    Yes, bad things happened to me. But they are not who I am; they are just part of my story. That story is what led me here, to this place where I’m now writing to you. I hope to inspire you and show you that it is possible to change your story, whatever it is; that there is so much guidance and support available to you when you are ready to find it. You really will see it everywhere when you start paying attention.

    You too will see you also have an inner voice guiding you and access to everything you need to heal. When you start recognizing all the tools available to you, you’ll feel less alone and supported on your journey.

    I no longer feel bitter about my experiences in my childhood, but proud. They made me who I am and have allowed me to help many others on their journey to heal from their past.

    I have found forgiveness, love, and compassion for the people that hurt me, like my dad, which helps me feel happier. I didn’t have to forgive him. He did awful things, but I understand now they came from his trauma. This has given me great inner peace.

    It takes courage and time to transform on the inside and become a trauma cycle breaker in your family. This means that your children will have a different experience. How amazing is that? What a great gift to give them.

    The information, tips, guidance, and light are waiting for you to discover them. You just need to take the first step and decide to become the hero of your story and find your own heart’s happiness.

  • Feeling Burnt Out? How to Slow Down and Reclaim Your Peace

    Feeling Burnt Out? How to Slow Down and Reclaim Your Peace

    “Burnout is a sign that something needs to change.” ~Sarah Forgrave

    Fifteen years ago, my doctor informed me I was in the early stages of adrenal exhaustion. In no uncertain terms, she warned that if I failed to address the stress I was under, my adrenals might not recover. This was hard to hear, but it forced me to face the fact that eating well, exercising religiously, and keeping up with the latest research on wellness was not enough.

    I had to ask myself a defining question that day: Am I ready to go down with the ship?

    At the time, I was teaching an average of fourteen classes a week at my wellness studio. I had been exceeding my threshold for so long that I had pain in every joint and muscle in my body. I was completely exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally, but slowing down or cutting back was just not an option.

    Or so I believed.

    The problem was that every time I would even begin to consider addressing the reality of my situation, my head would instantly fill with all the reasons I couldn’t possibly stop.

    There was the dream for a business I couldn’t imagine giving up. The huge amounts of time and money I had invested in realizing that dream. And most of all, there were the clients I was serving, a community of amazing women I loved working with and didn’t want to let go.

    Meanwhile, my thirty-year marriage to a man struggling with an opioid addiction was falling apart. My kids were distressed. My body was completely breaking down, and my life had become a tangled mess of fears, conflicted feelings, and obligations I just didn’t have the heart for anymore.

    As the growing pressure to do something about my situation increased, my anxiety increased right along with it. Talk about a pressure cooker!

    I couldn’t even imagine the courage I would need to tell my husband I wanted a divorce. And whenever I got anywhere close to that courage, my mind would flood with anxiety over the uncertainty.

    How would he react?

    How would it affect my children?

    Where would I live?

    How would I ever rebuild my life?

    It felt as if I was being buried alive under a growing mountain of complexity with no way out. So, the pain continued to get worse, and I kept trudging forward, blindly hoping against hope that somehow it would all work itself out (without changing anything about the way I was living).

    Growing up, I had learned to take the offensive and power through obstacles. I had always seen myself as someone who could do anything she put her mind to. Now I found myself stuck between the person who thought she was responsible for everyone’s experience but her own and the person I might actually become if I started making self-valuing, authentic choices.

    Then one morning, the dam broke.

    I was walking up to the door of my studio to teach the 6:00 a.m. class, asking myself (like I did every morning) how I was going to get through the day with all the pain I was in.

    As I turned the key in the lock of the business I had dreamed of creating for over a decade—the business I had built out of everything I believed in and everything I knew I wanted to offer to the world—I could see the consequences of my resistance to change about to swallow me whole. I could see that my fear of change was completely blocking my ability to see anything past that.

    And suddenly… everything went quiet. All the reasons for not stopping that typically flooded my mind just fell away.

    The only thought I had in that moment was, The way you stop… is you stop.

    I didn’t just hear these words; I felt an absolute acceptance of them. One minute it was impossible to stop; the next, it felt like the simplest thing in the world.

    In the quiet of this moment, I became so aware of my own breath that I felt it everywhere in my body. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I stopped. And when I did, I found the courage to listen to my aching heart.

    I felt a depth of longing for peace I had never allowed myself to experience before. I stood there breathing and felt an acceptance of the reality of everything that was happening wash over me. The pressure to control it all was gone!

    My mind was clear, and my body felt relaxed even as I faced the same facts of my situation, but without all the usual stories and justifications overwhelming me. It felt like a miracle.

    Suddenly the door to my studio, which I had been walking through for years, felt like the door to an entirely new way. Standing there with my key in my hand, in the profound quiet of that moment, I was flooded with a new sense of possibility.

    As I set up for the 6:00 a.m. class, I stayed focused on my breathing and continued to listen to my body. It became clear to me that when I wasn’t being honest with myself, my body responded by restricting my breath. And I was able to see how all the years of unaddressed tension were expressing themselves as escalating physical pain.

    A New Direction

    That morning, I didn’t just take a first step toward interrupting the old way. I began heading in a new direction.

    But it still took me a year and a half to wind down my commitments and extricate myself from the studio. This was a massive transformation involving every aspect of my life, but it began with just one step—accepting that the old way was broken. Once I accepted this wholeheartedly, I moved to the next step.

    I had a friend who had moved back to town to take care of her aging mother. She was looking for a place to establish her yoga school and had already been teaching a couple of classes a week at my studio while she looked for a more permanent place. On that pivotal morning, after I taught the 6:00 a.m. class, I called my friend and told her that I was stepping down and that she could hold all her classes there.

    I continued to pull back, one step at a time, constantly asking myself, “What can I let go of today?” (One day, the answer to this question was “my hair”!) Eventually my friend bought out my lease and took over completely.

    This is not to say I did not continue to wrestle with self-doubt. But my intention to slow down and to stop ignoring my tension became my guiding compass point.

    In the years that followed, I relied on this compass to dive more deeply into the mind-body connection and what it truly means to take care of myself and be happy. My primary tool was the simple mindfulness practice of paying attention to my posture (whether it was tense or at ease) and my breath (restricted or free). I found strong community for this priority in the study and practice of Qigong, Tai Chi, and Continuum.

    In the process, it became clear to me that to access the wisdom within, the first thing I had to do was slow down and calm down. This priority allowed me to be honest about the pressure I was putting on myself to keep doing things I no longer had the heart for and to recognize the emotional reasons I was hanging onto them.

    We all come to thresholds in our lives, times when we’re faced with tremendous pressure to change (or go down with the ship). When we refuse to change, the only other option is to increase our tolerance for suffering while convincing ourselves that it’s not affecting us as much as it really is. In this fantasy we tell ourselves we’ll make it (somehow) if we just keep powering through.

    I’ve come to realize that it’s not about avoiding stress. It’s about increasing your ability to remain present and functional while stressful events are happening. The calmer you can be in the face of stress, the more resilient you’ll be and the less likely you’ll be to end up teetering on the edge of complete burnout like I was.

    When we practice being present, we’re able to make more accurate moment-to-moment choices. We’re able to slow down and take an honest look at what needs to change. Which isn’t to say that it’s going to change in a minute, or a day, or a week, or even a year. The truth is that lasting change can often be a very gradual process.

    How to Stop

    I was able to stop by establishing new priorities. I made it a point to slow down, calm down, and really be honest about what I could eliminate. My process was essentially as follows:

    1. Stop. (For the moment, anyway.) Acknowledge that before a new way can show itself, you have to find a way to stop the old way.

    2. Acknowledge the pain you are in—emotional and physical.

    3. Ask what you can let go of now and in the near future. (If the answer is “nothing,” then ask again.)

    4. With “something has to give” as your mantra, what can you let go of next?

    • Consider what you are physically and mentally capable of doing right now. (If the answer is “everything, if I push myself,” then ask again.)
    • Consider your life priorities and what you need to make room for.
    • Consider what you no longer have a heart for.
    • Consider that what you are holding on to tightest might be what really needs to go. Letting go of smaller things first often helps to relax your grip on even your strongest (and often unhealthy) attachments.

    5. When the “yes, but…” voice shows up, be aware of it and do your best not to listen or take action based on what this voice says. This is the voice of your attachment to keeping an unsustainable system on life support. It’s fueled by your fear of uncertainty because if you stop what you’re doing, you’re not sure what will happen (and your “yes, but…” voice is certain it will be awful!).

    6. Gather tools to help yourself detach enough from this voice to move toward accepting reality and make the changes needed to live a more authentic and satisfying life. (The Serenity Prayer is a good one.)

    7. Remember that change is a process, not a single event. Start small, then graduate to bigger things that need to go.

    —

    I hope you’ll continue to play with the concept of stopping (the old way) to start (a better way). Every meaningful change hinges on your ability to interrupt the old pattern. You’ll learn to rely on this ability the more you practice using it.

    Also keep in mind that you won’t necessarily know anything about the new way when you stop the old one. Change usually happens very slowly, and patience can be the hardest thing.

    Good luck, and feel free to reach out with questions or comments!